June 15

Tuesday June 15, 1982

A terribly cold night made that morning's task of examining the dead much more difficult, because the limbs had been set and frozen into unusual postures that were added to by the process of rigor mortis. This quite natural phenomenon had contributed to the unfortunate rumour that two of the dead Scots Guardsmen from Tumbledown had somehow been captured and executed by a retreating enemy. The bodies had apparently been found with 'hands tied' and 'blindfolded'. Careful examination of their wounds showed this suggestion to be nonsense. One had been killed by a long range sniper shot to the head, the other by a fragmenting mortar round. In other words, my opinion was that they had both died cleanly and quickly, on the field of battle.

The allegation of battlefield misconduct was an important one though, and so I sought advice from another professional colleague, who had also better remain nameless, but found him most unwilling to be of any assistance at all. There weren't many like him, thank goodness, but he was one of those individuals rendered completely useless by the strains of war when the pressure came on. The forensic analysis and reporting was therefore down to me - again - and I was able to describe my findings to Lt Col Mike Scott, the absolutely charming Commanding Officer of 2 Scots Guards, when he came back to Ajax Bay for his mens' funerals. No more was heard of this quite unfounded allegation.

40 Commando crossed to West Falkland, and Lt Col Malcolm Hunt took the Argentine garrison's surrender in Port Howard. They also discovered three dozen or so enemy casualties over there, some with wounds that were a week old and untreated. It was just more work for our surgeons, as we expected, after the war had ended. Some of the young Argentine soldiers' stories were heartbreaking. Most were starving, indeed some had actually injured themselves deliberately in order to gain medical treatment and hospital food. Others had been shot by their officers (so they said), in the feet, to prevent them running away.

Once again our basic surgical policy, based on the time-honoured principles of battle surgery, was shown to be correct. These men had filthy, discharging and smelly wounds a week after their side's therapeutic philosophy of 'early closure'. The wounds of an identical vintage out on Uganda were not only more severe - they were also much cleaner and healthier-looking too.

It was also 'Honours and Awards' time. Ivar Hellberg had asked me to nominate the men of Ajax Bay's medical organisation who were worthy of recognition. The task of picking out those who had risen head and shoulders above the rest of a really outstanding bunch was an appallingly difficult one, and I agonised over it. The choice had then to be re-inforced by a short citation, which was a written justification for the selection. This would then be scrutinised in turn by the CO, then Brigade, HQ LFFI, and then passed up the chain to HQ CINCFLEET in Northwood, and finally, presumably, to the Ministry of Defence.

I put seven names up for various awards and all were accepted, endorsed and passed on by the CO. When I finished the final drafts of the citations, one of the marines who had been watching me beavering away at the typewriter came up and suggested that everyone in Ajax Bay has already got the 'MBE'. My polite agreement that everyone in Ajax Bay certainly deserved Membership of the Order of the British Empire - but there would not be that many awards available for dishing out - was met with the protestation:
"No, Boss - not the medal. I mean the MBE..."
"MBE?" was my baffled reply.
"Yes sir - that stands for Mind Boggling Experience!"