Falklands War: 40th Anniversary

Luke Pollard Excerpts

Monday 13th June 2022 Commons Chamber

[Dan Jarvis]

The hon. Gentleman has made some incredibly important points, and done so very eloquently. Of course I agree with everything that he has just said.

There are many chapters of the Falklands story that need to be told. There is the bravery of the Royal Marines on the ground, and that of the pilots and aircrew in the skies above them. There is also the determination of the sailors, without whom no operation, let alone victory, would have been possible.

[Luke Pollard (Plymouth, Sutton and Devonport) (Lab/Co-op)]

The success of our Royal Navy and Royal Marines would not have been possible if not for the work of the civilians supporting the fleet, including the dockyard workers at Devonport, in the constituency I represent. They do not always get their story told in the commemorations, so will my hon. Friend join me in paying tribute not only to the Devonport dockyard workers but to all the civilians in dockyards throughout the United Kingdom who supported the fleet in preparation and on the way back?

[Dan Jarvis]

I am grateful to my hon. Friend. The great ocean city of Plymouth has an important story to tell in the context of the Falkland Islands conflict, and he makes an important point about the huge contribution made by civilians. Those who step forward to serve in the armed forces do so knowing that they are backed by the outstanding efforts of the hundreds of thousands of good men and women who serve as civilians. My hon. Friend is a doughty champion for them and makes an important point, and I am grateful to him for doing so.

We should also reflect on the terrible suffering endured by the Welsh Guards on the Royal Fleet Auxilliary Sir Galahad, and on the hard-won victory of the Scots Guards on Mount Tumbledown. I am always enthralled by what the Gurkhas, recruited from south Asia, made of their deployment to the south Atlantic. The Special Air Service and the Special Boat Service played a crucial role, but much of their heroism remains untold. As the hon. Member for Bracknell (James Sunderland) rightly said a moment ago, we should also remember and commemorate the hardship experienced by Argentine forces, who lost 649 personnel.

I hope the House will understand why I now wish to speak primarily about the legacy left by the forefathers in my own regiment—a legacy that my generation and those that followed attempted to live up to. The Paras who went down south occupy a legendary place in the annals of airborne history—none more so than the platoon sergeant of 4 platoon, B company, 3 Para, Sergeant Ian McKay.

Sergeant McKay was born in Wortley, Barnsley, and his story is still recounted and learned by every single fledging paratrooper to this day. Marica McKay, Ian’s widow, remembers that it began when her late husband sat down for dinner one evening in their home and the phone rang:

“I put his dinner in a Tupperware container and he went straight away. He just said, ‘I’ve got to go.’”

With that, Ian and his comrades prepared to set sail. Intensive training was conducted on the voyage: signals, weapons, fitness, medical and fieldcraft over and over again until the battalion arrived six weeks later at Port San Carlos.

After assuming defensive positions, 3 Para were ordered to move to Teal Inlet— the first leg of a 60-mile gruelling march under brutal conditions. They would then advance to set up a headquarters for the assault on Mount Longdon—part of a three-phase plan to capture Port Stanley and end the war.

The battle for Mount Longdon was ferocious, chaotic and bloody. The accounts of close-quarter combat are among the most violent ever recorded. The ground had been occupied for weeks by Argentine forces. They were dug-in and well-defended by machine guns, mortars and artillery. All approaches had been mined. Despite the threat, it was an era when body armour was not issued. The only protection provided was parachute helmets—great when a soldier smacked their head after a heavy landing, practically useless in a gun fight or mortar strike. If they did get hit, wounded soldiers might have to wait 10 hours for evacuation. One Army surgeon from the campaign later compared the casualty evacuation procedure of the Falklands to the first world war and even to the Boer war.

It was not just the enemy with which 3 Para had to contend. The June South Atlantic weather is an unforgiving, unrelenting beast, as Mr Speaker will no doubt recently have observed. The second-hand winter clothing that was issued belonged in the bargain bin of an Army surplus stores, not on the backs of some of our most elite troops. Icy rain and biting wind swept across the barren landscape, quickly forcing temperatures well below zero. Some of the most robust collapsed with exposure and exhaustion. As times go, they were tremendously hard. None the less, overcoming such adversity is what is demanded of those who wear the coveted maroon beret.

It is impossible to put into words the courage, selflessness and valour displayed by Sergeant McKay in the dark, cold early hours of the morning of 12 June 1982 on Mount Longdon. His citation is as close as we will get, so I would like to take the opportunity to share part of it with the House:

“The enemy fire was still both heavy and accurate, and the position of the platoons was becoming increasingly hazardous. Taking Sergeant McKay, a corporal and a few others, and covered by supporting machine gun fire, the platoon commander moved forward to reconnoitre the enemy positions, but was hit by a bullet in the leg, and command devolved upon Sergeant McKay.

It was clear that instant action was needed if the advance was not to falter and increasing casualties to ensue. Sergeant McKay decided to convert this reconnaissance into an attack in order to eliminate the enemy positions. He was in no doubt of the strength and deployment of the enemy as he undertook this attack. He issued orders, and, taking three men with him, broke cover and charged the enemy position.

The assault was met by a hail of fire. The corporal was seriously wounded, a private killed and another wounded. Despite these losses, Sergeant McKay, with complete disregard for his own safety, continued to charge the enemy position alone. On reaching it, he despatched the enemy with grenades, thereby relieving the position of the beleaguered 4 and 5 platoons, who were now able to redeploy with relative safety. Sergeant McKay, however, was killed at the moment of victory, his body falling on the bunker.

Without doubt, Sergeant McKay’s action retrieved a most dangerous situation and was instrumental in ensuring the success of the attack. His was a coolly calculated act, the dangers of which must have been all too apparent to him beforehand. Undeterred, he performed with outstanding selflessness, perseverance and courage. With a complete disregard for his own safety, he displayed courage and leadership of the highest order, and was an inspiration to all those around him.”

Sergeant McKay was an inspiration not just to all those around him, but to every paratrooper who came after him, myself included. The war was over two days later. He was subsequently awarded a Victoria Cross, one of only two recipients in the campaign. The other award, also posthumous, went to Lieutenant Colonel “H” Jones, commanding officer of 2 Para, for his valour at Goose Green days earlier. There were, of course, countless acts of extraordinary bravery that were not formally recognised, not least the actions of Corporal Stewart McLaughlin, also killed in action on Mount Longdon. My hon. Friend the Member for Wallasey (Dame Angela Eagle), who is not able to be with us this evening, has long championed ending that oversight.

Yesterday marked 40 years since Sergeant McKay relinquished his chance to go home so that others could. On the memorial erected at the spot at which he fell are inscribed the immortal words from the Gospel of John:

“Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.”

Never were those words more fitting. While at sea, Sergeant McKay wrote a letter to a friend to say:

“I have no intention of taking any risks and getting killed. If I do, then it will be to protect my men, to save lives.”

To write such a thing is one matter; to act when the moment arrives is quite another, but that is exactly what Sergeant McKay did.

Today, 40 years on, we recognise Sergeant McKay’s sacrifice and the sacrifice of everyone who fell during the Falklands conflict. We pay tribute to all those who went down south, and we stand with the many who still bear the scars of the conflict. It is a debt we can never repay, but one that we must always remember.