Steve Carter - 100 Days

100 Days

Steve Carter

A Bright Pen Book

Copyright Steve Carter 2013

Cover design by Steve Carter

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording or otherwise, without prior written permission of the copyright owner. Nor can it be circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without similar condition including this condition being imposed on a subsequent purchaser.

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19 The Cinques

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This book is also available in paperback

ISBN 978 0 7552 1599 7

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Contents

Preface

I originally intended to write an account of the Falklands War from my perspective as a young sailor aboard H.M.S. Fearless. However as I began the process of ordering my thoughts, I realised that it would be a very short, and probably quite boring account. So, in order to tell my story in a way that hopefully interests the reader, I decided to create an additional fictional ship and some fictional characters to enable me to write what is in fact a novel.

I have tried to be as historically accurate as possible, and apologise in advance to any scholars of military history for those errors I have inevitably made. Most of my research was from previously published documentary style works and one or two similar autobiographical accounts. My knowledge of the fictional H.M.S. Peterborough is derived from two periods of my career spent serving aboard type 42 Destroyers, H.M.S. Sheffield 1979-1981, and H.M.S Nottingham in 1989, but again I rely on my own memory for the ships layout and other details and apologise to the purists if my memory has let me down.

All the principal characters in the book are based on people I knew in the service or have known since, but I have moved them around in both space and time. I have not used any actual names. In the same way, the characters and names for crew members on H.M.S Fearless have been changed to preserve the idea that the book is a novel. I hope my ship mates will forgive me for not mentioning them by name. Hopefully if any of them read this book they will recognise themselves somewhere within it.

The character most closely associated with me is Chris Carpenter. Everything that happens to Chris on the Fearless is derived from my own memories. Stories and anecdotes that are mentioned elsewhere in the book are also taken from my memories of the 12 years I spent in the Royal Navy.

This then is a story about the young men who fought in 1982, intertwined with my own actual experience of that time.

Steve (Raich) Carter, LWEM(R) H.M.S. Fearless 1981-1984

Chapter 1.

Invasion of the Malvinas

For exercise, for exercise, for exercise, hands to action stations, hands to action stations. This tannoy announcement or Pipe, preceded by the raucous tones of the ships main broadcast alarm, had awoken Sharky Ward from his slumber in 3P mess along with the other sleeping members of the ships company at just before 02:50.

Fuck me! he said to anyone who would listen as he tumbled out of his bunk, only an arsehole like Pennington would still be doing this shit two days from home!

Sharky Ward was a single man of stocky build, average height, and in possession of a scar running in a diagonal line across his left eye, the result of a collision with a number 7 iron that his younger brother had been attempting to master one afternoon in the garden. This left him not only with the scar, which the ladies seemed to like, but also a lazy eye. A few people called him Slack-eye, but only a select few.

O.K., stow it and shift your arris, the man who slept directly above Sharky, in the coveted top bunk of the three tiered bunking arrangement now had his feet dangling either side of Sharkys head waiting for him to move before depositing himself on the deck. Leading Weapon Engineering Mechanic (Radio) Mike Barratt (Polly), aged 25, was married and had two small sons. His handling of the men for whom he was killick of the mess (in charge of the living accommodation) was acknowledged as exemplary by Senior Rates and Officers alike. He was slightly shorter than Sharky, of similar build, but had a shock of blonde hair where Sharkys was jet black.

Come on you bunch of wasters! he cajoled loudly, shift yourselves, give him the time hes looking for and we can all have a decent nights sleep. All within earshot knew to whom he referred, Pennington, the First Lieutenant, in charge of ships discipline and routine.

As usual, Polly and Sharky were first up the ladder onto 2 deck and on their way to their respective action stations. The rest of 3P mess were on their way, but Polly made it his responsibility to show an example, even if for an exercise, and get moving with some urgency. During normal working hours Polly was the Leading Hand responsible for the Main Communications Office Radio equipment. Sharky was a member of the Computer Room staff. At sea they lived together and drank together in foreign ports. Sharky, at 21, was getting a little old to be just a Weapon Engineering Mechanic (WEM), the technical version of an Able Seamen, and Polly was pushing him now to take his exam for Leading Hand, similar to Corporal in the Army.

As Sharky hurried along the Starboard side of 2 deck towards his action station in the computer room he passed shipmates in the passageway, some grinning, others moaning and cursing. The passageways were narrow and at each main frame there was a watertight door to negotiate. The flange at the bottom of each door needed to be stepped over, and at a height sometimes of almost 12 inches failure to lift a leg the required height could result in Hatch Rash, the name commonly given to gashes and grazes caused by collisions between shins and steel. He hadnt thought to look at his watch, and as he allowed two Senior Rates, equivalent to Sergeants, to pass through the passageway door next to the Computer room hatch, he took a peek.

Shitty death! he muttered, it was 02:55, and as he had one of those new digital watches with the red numerals that lit up when the button was pressed, he knew it must be right! As he slithered down the ladder, feet barely touching the steps, holding on only to allow his hands to slide down the handrails, he was met by Chief Petty Officer Barry Jones at the bottom.

Hello Sharks, got you up then is it ? asked Jones.

Yeah, still in the Chiefs mess pissin up were you Chief? was the grinning reply.

Careful Sharky. Chief Jones smiled back. He had an easy way with his subordinates. He was a keen rugby player and an ardent Welshman with a great sense of humour. He was well respected by the top brass for his technical and teaching abilities.

One by one the other members of the Computer Room action stations team closed up. Finally, Chief Jones was able to report to Action damage repair HQ (HQ1) that his team were present and correct. The time for his station to report was 8 minutes and 42 seconds from the initial alarm, about average for the station, although slightly faster than average for the ship as a whole. The ship was reported to the Captain to be at NBCD State 1 condition Zulu (Nuclear, Biological, and Chemical Defence, Highest alert, all water tight doors and hatches closed, ships company at their action station) almost fifteen minutes after the alarm had been sounded. This was not good. The Captain knew it, the First Lieutenant knew it, and to be fair, the crew knew it. Pennington was old school. He believed in strict discipline and rigorous training schedules. He did not see any reason to relax simply because tomorrow was Channel night; the last night before returning home. Tomorrow would be Thursday April 1 st 1982. That made it 11 weeks since they had sailed from Portsmouth. It would also be April fools day and the last day at sea before returning to their home port, and Easter leave. But they were aboard H.M.S. Peterborough, a type 42 Destroyer, a front line fighting ship and Penningtons first appointment as Exec. of a ship of this size, and there would be no wasters on his ship! He was bright, enthusiastic and dedicated. He was also acutely aware of the high standards set by H.M.S. Sheffield, the class leader, the Shiny Sheff. She set the standard by which the remaining Type 42s were compared. Recently the two ships had been operating in exercise Spring Train and comparisons between their relative performances in the exercises conducted had been made and noted by the Fleet Commander.