Stories From My Scrapbook - The Falklands by Kay Foster

I was posted to the Falkland Islands in 1987-88 on a six-month tour as Matron at the newly built King Edward V11 Hospital. The previous Military Hospital had burned down with a number of civilian casualties. The Military worked jointly with civilian medical and administration staff as the hospital looked after both the civilian and military population of the islands.  The majority of military personnel were stationed at RAF Mount Pleasant, whereas the military medical staff lived in Port Stanley. At the time of my posting, we were accommodated in portacabins in Port Stanley and had a comfortable Mess, with a church and a pub on the island. 

At that time many foreign fishing vessels from the Far East, Russia and Europe obtained fishing licenses to fish in the fertile fish stocks in waters around the Falklands. The hospital was kept quite busy with a number of trauma injuries suffered by the fishermen.  

The Islands were a perfect wildlife sanctuary, whale's, sea lions, dolphins' various breeds of penguins, also an array of birds including the elegant huge albatross. I even had a wild cat that took up residence with me in my cabin and I would often find a mouse or a bird waiting to greet me. On my days off I would walk the area around Port Stanly and visit the site where the fierce fighting took place, against the Argentine military. There were occasions when I found human bones, e.g. bones from a finger left from the debris of war. We also got the opportunity to get a lift on a working helicopter and visit different areas and islands. 

I visited Fitzroy where the Sir Galahad was bombed with loss of life to the British Troops.  A dear friend L/Cpl Andy Mortimer, REME, was on board at the time and survived the horrific attack by the Argentina airforce. Some years before while serving in Hong Kong I had a return trip on the Sir Galahad to Brunei. I often wonder what happened to the crew of the Sir Galahad, as many foreign staff made the ship their permanent place of work. I had a memorable tour in the Falklands Islands, one of many wonderful postings and experience's I had while serving with the QA’s. 

We featured in Soldier Magazine, as can be seen below.

Major Kay Foster QARANC (Retd) Served from 1977 to 1996

WET FEET - Rae Gunn

1984 a year to be remembered for so many different reasons, but a year for adventures and surprises and taking on the world. 

I’m going to go back a few months to the beginning of Autumn of 1983 - the year I turned 21 and the year I qualified as a State Enrolled Nurse (SEN). Today there is no such thing, but back then just over 2 years into becoming a QA I qualified along with the rest of the girls in our intake. I was on my first ward as a trained nurse at RAF Wroughton and many of us were starting to go our own way on separate postings for the first time leaving our friends behind ... at this point I was set to stay in my posting at Wroughton for the foreseeable future and I was happy ... Fast Forward to the end of October of this year and a close friend was heading down the road of getting married and had just received her first posting as a qualified nurse .... The Falkland Islands (new husband was heading to Ireland - not unusual in those days for husbands and wives to go in very different directions). To say she was distraught is an understatement.

So Fast Forward to April 1984 , and there I was stationed in the Falkland Islands, and had been there four full months, having volunteered to take her place, a decision I definitely do not regret.

With little time off while we were there, we found that there was never a dull day off to be had, and with very few girls amongst the troops at that time we were always invited to something on our days off and nights off, heading out for a party somewhere meant nice clothes and generally wellies, mine were yellow and had probably belonged to a few other QAs before myself.

So on this particular day we were invited to a Magical Mystery tour - just turn up they said - so turn up we did , our transport would be awaiting for us they said , and it was in the form of a helicopter - now it was a long time ago so I don’t recall the type I just remember getting on with the other girls very excited - fearless in those days to try something new, we flew over the islands loving the ride not a clue where we were to land - landing it turned out was not an option - they flew us out to sea , and then pointed out where were going , there in front and just breaking the surface was a nuclear submarine - what probably didn’t enter my mind at that point was how we were to get on board

Sometime later following what involved a harness a winch and a lot of encouragement to step out of a flying helicopter , I found myself inside the conning tower of the submarine - climbing down the ladder and eventually coming out inside the main body of the sub - now if I was to say that the inside of the conning tower is dark and the ladder does not go straight down and there were hands of guidance on the way down I am sure you will use your imagination - the days of men only at sea.

The sub was amazing, never could I have imagined how small it was inside and at what close quarters they lived .. our tour was fascinating, we listened to whale sonic wave sounds and were able to see where the nuclear war heads were stored in readiness. At this point knowing we were deep beneath the South Atlantic never crossed my mind - as we were technically still in a war zone we were not to stay on the surface for very long - whilst we were below the weather had turned and the surface was not a good place to be, as a submarine has very little stability when surfaced - but a small group of QA officers and junior ranks being accommodated overnight on board was not an option , not because of where we could be bunked for the night , but because we were woman - the thought for the crew was unthinkable ...

It was decided to bring the helicopter in even though the flying conditions weren’t great .....So here I was again heading this time up the conning tower , it was dark and I think they were very keen for us to leave as there felt like many, many hands pushing me from the rear end, shall we say, to ensure I kept moving upwards ... the sub was very, very unstable on the surface and the helicopter was hovering above , from somewhere in the dark as it was now late in the evening a winch and harness appeared and I was strapped in for the ride of my life - just as they started to winch the South Atlantic sea surged, the submarine rocked to the side and the helicopter dipped, not the best combination when its cold dark very windy and you are suspended somewhere in the middle dangling about in mid-air, or so I thought, with one big wave I found myself paddling far out to sea , boots and trousers now wet and freezing cold, bright lights shining from above, but thankfully still very much attached to the winch ...heading up I think I would be forgiven for thinking I was heading towards the ‘ Other’ light on this occasion ...but thankfully no .... once safely in the helicopter and all other members of our party were aboard the submarine went back below and we headed back to Stanley, on a total high from the day we had had , very tired and some of us rather wet ...

Rae Gunn

Former QARANC

A letter from a soldier in the Falkland’s War - 23rd June Port Stanley 1982 (submitted by Kay Foster)

This week we have a real treat on the blog. A glimpse into the life of a soldier in the Falklands War. This letter was written to Kay Foster from her friend Andy Mortimer. 

Dear Kay,

Many thanks for the postcard, yes I am looking forward to seeing Exmouth again. Got to Port Stanley yesterday after being on the Canberra doing the POW run to Argy land. When they came on board first they smelt just like the school house at Cusichaca! Two weeks ago, as I’am sure you know already, we were hit as we waited to go ashore from the Sir Galahad. But being where I should be I escaped with a single hair and a large burn hole in my waterproof. Had I been where I should have been I wouldn’t be writing this. Thanks to your first aid lessons at least one soldier got away alive who wouldn’t have had I not known what I was doing - only two medics got out. The whole thing was a mess - a mess that got 25 of my mates killed. We were left in daylight for eight hours without air cover! There was hardly any warning just someone screaming Air Raid Warning Red! Air Raid - he never finished. A 500lb bomb came through the wall about 15ft away from me and carried on through two more walls and floors where it exploded. The guy stood behind me was killed. I didn’t have time to panic or be scared. Even after I got out I had to go back again to bring some others out the smoke was so thick you could walk on it.

Lucky every other man was carrying a 1 litre Hartmans Drip - these faded a lot of the guys with burns. later on today we’re going back to “Bluff Cove” by “chopper’ for a memorial service. Then the wreck of the ship will be towed out to sea and sunk as an official war grave.

I lost nearly all my kit - I got away in what I was wearing. The lads from 2 PARA who put us up for the night in their sleeping shed were fantastic. some of them stayed up all night making us tea. Next day we were “choppered” out to HMS Intrepid where we rested and issued with new kit.

Don’t know how long before we get home but in the meantime we are doing a northern Ireland type job in Stanley- patrolling- chatting up the locals - checking possible booby traps etc. Mines are still a big problem - they won’t let us use the Argies to find them! Looking after the POW’s was a bit like giving treatment to the people in Cusichaca who had stolen from us - crazy!

Still that’s life - that’s war, and I’ve had enough of this one for the moment. Not sure when I’ll be home - about six weeks they say - we’ll see. Hope to see you then.

Give my love to Exmouth.

Love and best wishes,

Andy

Footnote: L/Cpl Andy Mortimore REME and I were on an archaeological expedition in the Andes Peru 1981 thus his referral to Cusichaca, also one of the Argentina POW worked on the camp with us and Andy recognised him when he escorting the POW back. I had the pleasure of travelling on a return trip on the Sir Galahad in 1979 from Hong Kong to Brunei.

Please note, this letter has been in two books, so is already in the public domain and we have the permission of all parties to reproduce it here.