Another Friday and at the end of the shift, 11a.m, after working the MAC Flight the previous evening, the Fire/Security Crew of Pan Am World Services (PAWS would prepare for what ever they had planned to do to fill the void before a night at the Volcano Club (VC).  A Fish fry at Pan Am perhaps or a Barbecue at Turtle Shell.   Drunks Hideaway was generally booked out for a party, no start time, it just ended the following afternoon.  Getting everyone to agree with the arrangement was a challenge but by Thursday we had either put in the chit for supplies from the Commissary or we hadn’t,  which meant we had grouper and tuna fried there instead.  In my case it was fish fry at the beach no matter what, whoever had one arranged, I would manage to get in on it.  It was a slower than stop momentum, like the quiet before the storm. For the least active of us it was a time to stay of the loop, until Brian (Laurie) Yon and Keith Thomas (Little Dover) had both done their daily 10 km jog. 

The softball match at the Moon Valley Stadium always signified the end of the working week.  The game was significant to the Base sporting entertainment, the teams; Pan Am, Nasa Bendix, RCA, Saints 1 and the Beer Drinkers, just took so much enjoyment out of ribbing each other it was so unreal, it just begged belief, that many of these people worked together at times, but on match days, the atmosphere would be both bitter and sweet,. Until after the game, that is when the winning and losing teams, high 5’ed, drank beer together and set the tempo for their next meeting in the league.  The supporters, having vented their ‘stress’ of the daily life on the rock, now felt reprieved, they would have had belittled each and every member of both teams, and then go to prepare for the social gathering of the week.  It was ritual like, the water hole beckoned, happy hour again, the VC was about to erupt once more. 

Happy hours at the VC did not disappoint, it was an event which set the tempo for days ahead.  Members and associate members, Base and Off-Base personal came together to celebrate the passing of another exhausting week on the rock, quenching of their insatiable thirst with half priced cocktails, 20c bottles of beer and devouring chunks of crispy deep base co pizza  that just begged to be eaten. By the end of the night the VC would be filled to the seams with loyal patrons, fully seated, fully standing, and on a night when live music was on, they stood five deep, around the oval bar.  Those who were fortunate enough to have been there during these times will undoubtedly have images of these moments etched in to their memory. Happy Hours just did not get any better than this, but on this particular Friday, 2nd April 1982, my presence at the grand event was about to be halted; for a very long time.  My life, the lives of those working with me, the life of each and everyone else on Ascension, Ascension itself was about to change….forever.  Each and every one of them will have a story to share of the experience during the days which followed.  In a nutshell, this is mine.

“Hey Pooch”!  The words followed the formal tap on my shoulder,

“Take it slow tonight, we are to report for duty at 0600 hrs in the morning, there are aircraft in the air, C130’s from the UK, ETA 0800hrs.  This might be advance parties for troop movements to follow, I need you fit.   I have spoken to the other crew in here tonight, finish your drink and call it time”….

The “Boss” had spoken, gentle but firm; with the penetrating eye contact that looked inside of me for an acknowledgement.  This was very worrying, he had a look of great concern and his tone was the unusually calm.  I responded with the slightest nod of the head.  ‘Boss H‘, had made it a pledge, long before I arrived on the scene, not to go to Happy Hours and his short presence had been sufficient to cause a pause to the boozy atmosphere and once he had walked away, I just felt every eye at the VC shift towards me.  My Friday night at the VC had just passed me by.  With a disapproving shake of my head, I reluctantly finished me beer, told everyone sitting with me I had to work in the morning, jumped up from the table and left.  It was the last time I too would go to a Happy Hour, for a very long time.

The Argentine forces had invaded the Falklands in the early hours of Friday 2nD April 1982 and in the intent to reclaiming the islands back Ascension was to become an important player for the British Forces plan; as a staging post and base for logistics, troops and  aircraft.

The arrival of the first RAF Hercules brought the quiet apprehension to life, it landed near the ETA given the previous evening and as the crew marshalled it to the parking stand, they also unknowingly signalled the beginning of the enormous role the PAWS Fire/Security Crew, US Base, Ascension AAF, were about to be committed to, a low keyed, yet most effective presence in support of the British Forces in their task to reclaim the Falklands.

I had first heard of the Falkland Islands a few years earlier, when on St. Helena, I watched as my work colleagues queued on the street at the office of Solomon and Company, to register their skills and expressed their interest in taking up employment on the Falkland Islands.   I don’t remember hearing anything formal on the outcome, but rumours were about and eventually the whole exercise was forgotten.

At the Flight line, the F/S crew were quite familiar with the monthly visit of the RAF but this time the cargo was not fresh fruit and vegetables, nor were there any closely guarded packages being whisked away under cover. This time the air crew rolled out vehicles, trailers and ground support equipment.  This time the crew were not met by civilians from Two Boats but by Lt. Col. William Brydan, the Base Commander, USAF, Ascension AAF ESMC.  He would have stayed to see the remaining aircraft arrive on that first day, he would have given each crew a briefing of the Base and the facility and informed them that PAWS would see to their immediate needs.  Once the arriving personal was dealt with it was time for the PAWS F/S Assistant Chief, Augie Augustus and the Crew Chiefs, Hayward Benjamin and Cardinal Duncan to plan ahead for the days to come.

Being the youngest and least experienced of the F/S crew, Nigel Joshua and I was assigned to the office on a twelve hour shifts.  My shift began at midnight 3rd April.  Soon after the Island went in to an information blackout.  Cable and Wireless stopped all international calls and communication with the outside world was halted for the months to come. 

The shift, twelve hours in the Fire/Security office was not a desirable occupation, but in an event such as this there was a need by the crew chiefs to appoint staff according to their experience.  However, the brief spell was never dull and provided a significant platform from which I was to develop my future career.  The supply of information began to grow as did the number of aircraft.  The role of disseminating information to the Management on Base and the crews at the flight Line was a continuous stream on communication; arrival and departure updates, emergencies of various levels, staff alerts, the daily log went on to cover three pages on the Bell and Howell typewriter.  Ernie and the Lonnie began to prosper with their rentals and everyone else they could use to maintain there mixed fleet of salvaged motors didn’t do to bad either.  R&R had become a big business and the fly boys needed transportation.  The Victor flight and ground crews in particular would have had a reserved service for their touring pleasure and hardly an inch of the island would have been left undiscovered.  After two weeks I was told I was to swap office duty with a crew member from the flight line

By the end of the second week the population of the Island had ballooned by at least a quarter.  The C130’s were proving their worth but now they were being chased back and forth, up and down the Atlantic airspace by VC10s with troops and their supplies.  (In my last employment in the UK, I handled a corporate jet on a daily basis flown by one of the first pilots who flew the VC10 aircraft to Ascension during this time.  Today Capt Brian Young pilots Dassault F900EX and Gulfstream G45 private Jets but has never forgiven us for disturbing his crew rests when the F/S crew would turn up at the Zymotic, their allocated accommodation and have Bar-B-Q’s with their ground crews  which lasted way into the morning hours.)

Every square foot of Ascension proved its worth as the Army, the RAF and the Navy jostled for space.  Each of the aircrew facilities on the US Base were targeted and used at some point.  By the second week it was stressed to us that we were to fully support the cause and assist the forces with whatever they required.   Billeting, the Commissary, The Flight line Fire Service, Ground Support and Services and refuelling, The Shipping and Receiving sections were all made available on a as and when required basis, and as the days went by the demands increased ten fold.  So did the speed and nature of the instructions.  As the instructions intensified I came to the conclusion that no request was ever refused.

The cargo aircraft began to increase in size as did the payloads they would offload.  Helicopters, Wessex type, Sea kings,  Pumas, Lynx, Gazelles in kit forms, a Chinook,  the airframes just kept rolling out the cargo aircraft.  Amongst the air lifters now came the Shorts Belfast, with Harriers  and their ground support.

The ramp of Ascension AAF had by now become a combined base for fixed wing and rotary aircraft, the individual activities separated by the taxiway where fixed wing taxi a metre from the stowed rotors on the helicopters and airborne helicopters held off until taxiing aircraft were 10 metres clear of their landing zone.  As the arriving cargo and troop aircraft increased in numbers, so too did the helicopter activity.  Transporting every item imaginable; ground transport, tanks,  army gazelles helicopters and troops, the helicopters required a constant flow of fuel and a rethink to the operation was quickly needed.  A rapidly growing number of aircraft with a critical remaining ramp space,  limited equipment and the growing demand for helicopters to be refuelled, persuaded the Assistant Chief to press for a directive to upgrade the status from peace time to war time condition which enabled the F/S to commence ‘ hot refuelling‘ process.  This allowed all helicopters to be refuelled, from a bowser, with their engines running and the rotors turning. 

This was a dangerous manoeuvre where the helicopters had to taxi, port side pass the bowser, and once the pilot saw the stop mark he began the 180 degree turn to port once he had passed it, and continued, with the aid of a marshaller, along side of the bowser, right hand pilot seat opposite the vehicle.   None of the rotor crews had executed this manoeuvre before and in their initial briefing, new crews were issued with a verbal directive from RNS Petty Officers Carl and Nobby. 

The new refuelling method became routine with the Sea Kings, the Wessex and the Pumas as they able to be refuelled within minutes, but, it was the likes of the Lynx and gazelles which did not ground taxi but hovered to the refuelling position.  These helicopter types had to be filled by ‘over wing’ method too, a slow process manually using a hand nozzle.  It was the type  of refuelling we all rather not do, especially on a busy day.  On such a day there would be cargo lifts, troop ferries, all being done along side army and marine exercises and when one aircraft required fuel it seemed as if they the rest decided to refuel as well.  On completion of an ‘over-wing’ refuel there would be at least ten other helicopters standing off in the queue and we never recovered from the back log for the rest of the day.  Such moments did not help the sweltering conditions either.  Dust being churned  all up around us, the heat generated by the aircraft engines would send sweat streaming down our faces and to wipe it away was like torture,  it just grounded grit into our skins which stung for the rest of the day.  The conditions were not helped either by the Chinook crew either who on this certain day decide to lift off from the bowser instead of taxiing away.  Everything unstrapped within a 50 metre radius of it just went scattering.   However,  the action of the crew was witnessed by Cpl Kenny of the RAF Crash/Rescue and needless to say in a certain corner of the hanger someone would have had one of his  infamous ‘bollocking’.  The manoeuvre was never repeating again.

However, ‘hot refuelling’  became a well worked drill and by the time the Task Force had left Ascension for the Falkland Islands, the time saved carrying out this service would have helped advanced the plans by at least a couple of days.  To quote Bill Ford, ATC on shift on Easter Monday of that year, the combination of ‘rotor and the fixed wing activity on that day exceeded 2000 movements, making Ascension the busiest airport in the world’.

 I was to be rewarded by the Royal Naval Squadron (RNS) and was offered to join the mail drop to the RMS St. Helena as it sailed to Ascension.  The only physical link to the outside world for St. Helena, the RMS was now under command of the Royal Navy and would play  a vital role once she and her escorts joined the Task Force.  I joined the flight crew for the briefing then donned my survival and safety gear and was ready to go.  The ground crew escorted me to the aircraft and went through the emergency procedure, by which time Lt Colin was ready to start engines.  After lifting off the Tarmac the nets containing the mail were connected to the cargo hook and we set off over Georgetown in the direction of the ships.

The journey seemed endless and  after flying 20 miles the sighting of the RMS was welcoming, this far out to sea, looking at a form that I recognised was very reassuring.  With two minesweepers, one to starboard and the other bunkering on the port side, the setting was poetry in motion.   Underway, with a fuel hose linked to a cable suspended between the two ships, the RMS was dispensing fuel to one of the vessels it was nursing.  Approaching from the east the helicopter flew across the bows and then completed a 270 degree turn to approach the Helo Deck on the RMS which had been temporarily fitted for this journey.  ‘Bomber Brown’ the Load Master talked Lt Colin, the pilot, up the approach to the Drop Zone and then ‘Bomber’ made the drop.  Mail for the crews were now on the deck, supplies would be delivered once the ships came nearer to the Island.

Into the third week and the first resident aircraft arrived, Victor K2 Tankers from RAF Marham.  The arrival of these aircraft was the beginning of long range operations over the South Atlantic.  By this time RAF MT had become fully operational and the refuelling for these sorties could now be done by the RAF.  This left PAWS F/S staff to primarily deal with troop and cargo transporter aircraft and the Tactical aircraft, F4 Phantoms, the Harriers, Buccaneers and occasionally the Nimrods.

Ramp space was now at a critical stage and on most occasions the USAF MAC C141 regular airlift from the USA into Ascension was only permitted to do a minimum ground time.  With slip-crews the aircraft arrived at Wideawake, where the aircraft was unloaded, the crews changed over and the aircraft departed to Antigua within a couple of hours.  Similarly the pattern was followed when C5 Galaxy’s arrived and would discharged 30 pallets on each visit, stacked with replenishments for the Mess Hall.

The Base population had almost doubled and apart from the VC10 crew who were residing at the Zymotic, most of the RAF personal were housed elsewhere at Two Boats

The Mac crew building Barracks 13 was made available, just to visiting RAF crews only, but on Tuesdays and Thursdays they were reserved for the Mac Crew, whenever they  managed to find a place to park their aircraft.  Twinhams, the US Naval accommodation was taken over by the Royal Naval Command who took great delight that they were housed on base with access to the full available amenities.  Any other vacant rooms on the Base was taken over temporarily as and when they became vacant.  The billeting office was open from 0700 to 2200 at which time Raymond Young or Norma Thomas at the Transport/Housing  office (T/H) would handover to the F/S Office a list of rooms available for visiting crew should they require rooms at very short notice in the early hours of the morning

With no other space available for the growing number of air crew and maintenance the problem was eased when a Special Field Detachment arrived from New Mexico on a C5 Galaxy.  The aircraft arrived laden with a street of temporary housing; in transportation form, collapsed on trailers.  The buildings were erected within two days, with running hot and cold water, showers and toilets, air-conditioned throughout.  On the third day, Concertina City took in its first RAF Tenants as the airman who were housed at various accommodation over the Island were now able to reside  together on the US Base.  The MAC crew reclaimed their Barracks and T&H job became somewhat  relieved.  However, there always remained the need for rooms at very short notice.

The further intake of personal would have increase the Base accommodation near to an extra 50 percent and this time the commissary would feel the largest strain on its recourses. The increase in the number of personal was adequately dealt with but as the  numbers of extra base residents increased, so did the length of the queues to get to the mess hall.  The likely hood of having a regular meal at the Mess Hall just became more and more impossible. At the stage when the queuing time reach a thirty minute wait the only alternative was to satisfy ourselves with a box lunch each day and order hot meals which were collected after the Mess Hall had closed to eat in customers.

The Army had set up Tent City at English Bay and as the arriving troops swelled the numbers of army personal, the second Tent town was erected at One Boat.   Two Boats became a host location to the forces too whilst Georgetown  took on the social and logistical characteristics of a major shipping port.  Each passing day saw the increase in the number of ships anchored outside of the bay, with supplies to being airlifted to them as they waited for the main group of the Task Force to arrive.

With the arrival of the Victor K2s at Wideawake came the permanent anchorage of an oil tanker in the Bay.  On a weekly basis there would be other Tankers bunkered to it discharging Jet Al into the floating surplus storage.   The duration of the missions flown by the Victors became longer and on these occasions the F/S crew would occasionally become involved with refuelling, backing up the RAF Bowsers in order to keep the turn around ground time to the tightest window.  Their activity intensified as a further wave of the aircraft arrived from the UK.  Stand Control came into its element at this stage and in order to accommodate the next arrivals the tin of paint used to revise the markings for the aircraft positions had to be brought out on a daily basis.

Turbojet aircraft require cleared, finished surfaces upon which they can safely operate.  Turbo Props are robust machines and aircraft of this type are able to use unpaved surfaces and irregular terrain and when the push came to shove for parking space it was the C130’s that had to be moved off the main stand and on to the ‘dust bowl’.  It is the area where the USAF Flight line fire station is located today.  The name was so apt and it was used initially for Herc’s arriving  from the UK.  Without fail they always arrived just after mid-night, when the shift change had just been completed.  Freshly showered, fully rested and the first task was to marshal the arriving Herc’ to the ‘dust bowl‘.  Two hours later it would have to be marshalled backwards to the taxiway, self propelled, trust reversed and it slung everything in its path.  Having handled this aircraft at the beginning of the shift there was only one thing I used to craved during the remainder of the duty, that was to be able to go to the Barracks and take another shower.  It was a filthy job, dirt, cinders and dust mixed with sweat, caked around our goggles, a sight only those who were fortunate to be rostered on a different duty appreciated.  What went around came around though and on the next roster it would be someone else.

Once the Task Force had passed Ascension the flight line was able to be reorganised.   Ramp space used for drop zone and logistic lifts was given up and for a very short time it was possible to stand at the east end of the ramp and see that of the west.  Just briefly though as this came to an end with the arrival of the two Vulcan Bombers and three more Victor K2‘s.   Another orange tinged evening and another surprise, the landing was just spectacular,  the huge delta wing of the first Vulcan, at angles to the runway as it rolled passed the control tower before lowering the nose gear on to the remaining runway, its accompaniment, over above it in fly-by formation.

Once  the aircraft had parked, the RAF police placed a cordon around the new arrivals and stationed marines on guard duty.  This was going to be disappointing, having handled all of the other aircraft here at some stage, the two Vulcans placed on top security status were going to be controlled access only.  Never the less we had proven ourselves to everyone concerned with our efforts so far and it would be worth having a word with Sgt Gilpin.  It was on the second day when I spoke with RAF Sgt and asked for a Crash Rescue Ingress and Egress familiarisation.  He gave the F/S crew a verbal procedure demonstration, highlighting the RAF Crash Rescue emergency entry, the disarming of the ejector seats and the top and bottom extraction of the crews.  Soon after he dispatched his Cpl to the Tanker and Bomber Ops Tent and when he returned, Kenny told us to follow him.  With him leading the way we walked to the marine on guard where Cpl Kenny stopped and spoke for a few seconds.  When they had finished he turned and ushered us through the cordon towards one of the Vulcan Bombers.  The size of the aircraft from afar is deceiving and now up close, the scale and menacing colour scheme awakened the senses creating both fear and exhilaration.  This was an old aircraft I was told, about to be scrapped, but the lines and forms betrayed this.  The delta wing popped in a regal manner on the tall gears with the massive air intakes for the four engines gave an airy presence.  A feeling of finding oneself in a threatening  location, combined with the knowledge I had just gained, that the max payload was 21, 1000lb bombs, and now knowing the likely damage a single one of them could cause.  Two trolleys laden with bombs were lined up beneath the bomb bay, ready to be loaded.  After pointing out the hatches and engine fire points Kenny took us to the engineer standing beneath the bomb bay.  I again have no idea of what words were exchanged but the engineer pulled out a stick of chalk which he passed to Kenny.  Motioning to us to follow them we walked with Ken and the engineer to the ordinance and took up the task where someone before us had left of, writing explanative after  explanative to the Argentines on the Falklands and a personal message to the Argentine dictator General Galtieri.

A few nights later we were to assist again with refuelling Victors for long-range missions, on the first night it would be the bomb run to Stanley Airfield.  A month after the Argentine invasion the RAF were preparing to send a Vulcan Bomber, bridged by Victor K2 tankers from Ascension to bomb the runway at Mount Pleasant Airport.  At 1800 on that day the aircraft were being tugged into position.  Victor K2 Tankers with the two Vulcans sandwiched in between.  No information was disclosed, it just seemed as if  an awful lot of aircraft departing Wideawake that night.   As time went by the ramp became a line of traffic back and forth to the aircraft and at 2230 the noise of the first jet engines broke through the hum of countless MD3 and Houchin Ground Power Units attached to noses of the aircraft on the ramp.  With the increasing number of flashing anti-collision lights we knew the night had just begun.  All engines would have been running at T -minus 15 minutes to take off,  more than fifty Rolls-Royce turbojets at ground idle speed filling the air with the pungent tang of burnt aviation fuel, whilst ground and operation staff carried out their checks and the flight crews assessed and reported their worthiness and positions in the mission.  Once the first Victor entered the Active Area and rolled down the runway it started a canopy of rapturous jet noise which hung over the island as the remaining aircraft followed its pattern.  For more than twenty minutes the continuous roar of the jet engines penetrated the night, the piercing whines as 13 aircraft powered up to reach a staccato crackle and thunderous howl just before the aircraft started to roll. 

Once more the F/S was to assist with the refuelling of the turn around Victors as they returned empty.  When the aircraft came to a stop fuel was required immediately and the aircraft at this early stage in the air-refuelling plan were tanked up by the F/S crew.  No fuel load was given, the Victors required full tanks and at 350 US gals/min the R-9 refuellers did not disappoint.  Before the ground engineers had completed their checks the Victor would have been refuelled, tanks full. Thirty minutes after landing the aircraft were ready for the next crew. We knew the mission was well on its way when the Vulcan  on back up status returned a couple of hours after leaving the airfield. 

There weren’t any news of what was happening after we had finished our refuelling as the later stages through out the morning and the afternoon was completed solely by the RAF MT.  By this time the aircraft activity had become sparse with the intervals between the departures and the arriving Victors increasing further and further.  With a news blackout we all sat around for any hint of the Vulcan reaching the Falklands and completing its mission, but the Victors Ops had become tight lipped and as with other sections, there was it seem, an airily silence over the airfield.

And then it came, the BBC, without fail had lived up to expectation, in mid afternoon announced the runway at MPA Port Stanley had been bombed.  The announcer continued; no civilian casualties had been reported and the aircraft had successfully completed its mission.  We all looked at one another and for a few seconds it took me register what I had actually heard.  There weren’t any celebrations  but each of us felt a sense of pride and honour that we able to make a contribution to this successful mission.  The Vulcan had done the job and for a moment I felt an immense sense of relief.  The crew were safe and they would be coming back to Ascension.

In the days to follow it seemed poignant now that those who had left Ascension came back through on the way back to the UK.  It was as if they were retracing their journey backwards, removing themselves from the trauma which they had now left behind.  In most cases they were the lucky ones some weren’t so.  Amongst them were the survivors of the exocet hits on the battle ships.  Aboard the hospital aircraft, the first Virgin Atlantis Boeing 747, returning  from Montevideo were survivors of those horrendous attacks, with appalling injuries from missile flash burns, placed a few metres away,  an incubator, in it,  a  premature baby, no larger than a pint glass, breathing, alive in a free world…. Remembering the reports we had heard of life in Argentina under the military junta, it just left one to wonder, and admire the effort the forces had contributed, and their sacrifices they had made to the cause. 

Other visitors who followed were the captured Argentines., POWs who had surrendered at Port Stanley.  Young conscripts, demoralised and dejected brought to Ascension AAF and handed over to the International Red Cross under the cover of darkness, Processed to be returned to Bournes Aires.  

The Falkland Islands were under British rule once more.

Looking back today it is even more clear how significant a contribution the PAWS  Fire/Security staff  had made.  I feel that each of us knew how important our efforts had been but  we saw it as our duty in joining the cause to reclaim a British Protectorate from the invading junta.  No formal recognition or acknowledgement has ever been made of the service given but as a trainee amongst these workers I know what each and everyone of them gave.   Without such professionalism and leadership the service  they offered would not have been so honed.  On this anniversary, 26 years after the invasion of the Falklands I would like to publicly say a personal thank you to each and everyone of them for there leadership and assistance during the early stage of my working life.   Each year at this time I always remember the times we worked together, both through the easy and the tough times. It fills me with pride and  I feel privileged to have had the opportunity to have work with them.  I think St. Helena and Ascension should be proud of them as well.

Gerald Yon