On 28th May 1982 five hundred men of the 2nd
Battalion of the Parachute Regiment attacked a tiny hamlet with its corrugated
iron back set against the cold grey waters of the South
Atlantic Ocean . The place was called Goose Green and for a few
days our flag waving press hailed a mighty victory.
History tells us that the attack was borderline suicidal.
Lecturers at Sandhurst and West Point insist
that any force attacking a well dug in enemy must have a numerical advantage of
at least three to one. In an ideal world they should also be backed up by air
support and artillery.
Goose Green didn’t tick any of these boxes. The five hundred
Paras were ordered forward to take on 1200 well entrenched Argentinians with no air cover and
minimal artillery support. So why on earth did the top brass decide to gamble
one of its very finest battalions on such a Kamikaze mission? Goose Green must surely
have been one hell on an important strategic target. No. Not really. Not at all
in fact. It could have quite easily been by-passed and left to its own devices.
But the Government at home needed a victory to get the people onside with the
whole Falklands adventure. Up until Goose
Green, the news had carried all too many images of Royal Navy ships being sent
to the bottom of the sea by Argentinian jets firing French made Exocet
missiles.
Was it the sunk ships or the fact that the missiles were
from France
that got so far up Maggie Thatcher’s nose? I guess we will never know the
answer to that one.
Anyway, by the end of May the time had come for her to bang the table and demand
a victory. Any victory. Something to get everyone singing Jerusalem down the pub on a Friday Night.
Something for her old pal Rupert Murdoch to serve up to the nation as the
greatest thing since Waterloo .
All of a sudden the inconsequential and strategically
irrelevant hamlet of Goose Green became a photo opportunity.
So. Who do you turn to when you want a victory against all
sensible odds? The Paras of course. Who else. That is what Paras are for, when
all is said and done. Back in 82 the Paras had been allocated a very specific
role in the event of a full on Soviet invasion of Western
Europe . They were to get themselves to the very front of the front
line and take as many down as they could before getting completely marmalised.
Most of the strategic planners agreed that the life expectancy of a Para in that particular scenario was about half an hour.
This was no kind of secret. They told the lads what to
expect in the event of the Russian tanks rolling into the west.
Compared to the World War Three option, Goose Green must
have seemed an absolute cake walk.
They won the battle of course and Maggie got her victory and
the rest as they say became history. We were told by an adoring media that our
Warrior Queen had delivered us a win to rank alongside El Alamein and Agincourt . Memories of Empire were re-kindled as the British public bought into the stirring tale big
time and when it was time to go to the polls a year later we gave the Iron lady
a landslide.
One of the 500 who played a part in the savagery and carnage
of Goose Green was Tinker.
Derek Styles
AKA ‘Nobby’ Styles.
And this weekend past Tinker died. He was just over 50 years old.
He was one of the clients of our Veterans Project. Christ, I
hate using the word ‘client’ when talking about Tinker. Tinker was just Tinker.
In so many ways he was the very epitome of a British fighting man. About five
foot eight and as wiry as a half starved kangaroo. A quiet man who exuded
decency. A man who on 28th May 1982 kept on going forward along with
all of his comrades whilst all the time knowing full well that the mission was
a basket case. From time to time he would come in for a talk and slowly over
the years he would tell me a little more about those desperate hours. But never
all of it. Whenever he reached the last chapter he would all of a sudden get
the thousand yard stare and silence would settle over the room like a January
frost. He could never quite manage to relive the final few minutes when the
issue was resolved with bayonets.
He might not have talked about those desperate moments of
murderous violence, but he certainly never forgot them. How could he? They came
back to him every night without fail. In technicolour. He was terrified of
sleep. Sleep meant a return to those blood soaked minutes when every shred of
human decency disappeared from the world. Minutes when men became the very worst
of animals. Minutes when he saw things and did things that he could never
manage to box off and store away out of sight and out of mind. Oh no. Never out of mind. His mind became a minefield. His mind became his enemy - a hated, unmanageable VCR that replayed images of Goose Green day and night and night and day.
Tinker died last weekend.
But on more than one occasion he said that he would rather
have died along with 17 of his fellow Paras on the rain lashed slopes of the
hills overlooking Goose Green.
For most of the thirty years that followed Tinker’s War, his
life was lived off the rails. Addictions, homelessness, prison.
Years of it. Too many years. A couple of weeks ago he came
in to ask for me to refer him to a six week programme up at Combat Stress.
Would it have worked? We’ll never know now.
Instead he departed his life a tortured soul.
There is a whole lot of stuff that told me about Goose Green
that I have no intention of writing down. Would he have wanted me to write it
down and throw it out into the vastness of the internet? Maybe. Maybe not. I
get a lot of this stuff at First Base. Many of the ugly secrets of our State
find a natural habitat in the world of heroin. Things were done on that day
back in 1982 that should not have been done. Let’s leave it at that. Well not
quite. The bad stuff was signed off by men way, way above the pay grade of Tinker
and his fellow squaddies. They were the disposable ones. The were merely the disposable ones who were thrown
into a filthy, stinking pit of violence where they prevailed against all
sensible odds.
Thirty one years have passed since Goose Green and most of
them were bad ones for Tinker. He carried a sadness about him like a tired old
overcoat. His fifteen minutes of fame wrecked his life. Was Goose Green to
blame for his premature passing? Of course it was. Before Goose Green he was a
super fit young guy who represented the Army in gymnastic tournaments all over
the world. A bright future was waiting to be walked into. After Goose Green,
nothing was ever the same again. His life was a shell of a life. A long, dismal
road where drink and drugs stripped away his health and self respect and the
nightmares came at him every night.
And through those years thousands of pedestrians passed him
as he stood out on the High St
selling the Big Issue. And much to the credit of the people of Dumfries , he always sold every copy.
And right now the British
State is smiling over a
glass of sherry as yet another of its warriors has taken his secrets to the
grave. Just like always.
I feel honoured to have had the chance to know Tinker. In
every respect he was the opposite of the cartoon paratrooper. A quiet man. A
decent man. A man with genuine morality. Empathy. Humanity.
When he was ordered forward he went forward. They all did.
And my God did he ever pay the price for a few days of positive headlines in
the doting press.
A favourite saying.
Old soldiers never die.
Well they do.
And Tinker did.
Last weekend.
Thirty one years and fifty days since those desperate hours
at Goose Green.
I hope that you have found the peace that you could never
find when you were living and breathing.
“What dreams may come when we have shuffled off this mortal
coil…”
Let’s hope they are better dreams that the ones you have
suffered for so very long.
Goodbye friend. You deserved so much better.
YOU MIGHT BE INTERESTED IN TAKING A LOOK AT MY SHORT BOOK 'AFTERWARDS' WHICH TELLS THE STORIES OF THREE OF THE GUYS I HAVE COME TO KNOW SINCE WE ESTABLISHED OUR FIRST BASE VETERANS PROJECT THREE YEARS AGO. YOU WILL FIND IT IN THE KINDLE STORE BY FLOOWING THE LINK BELOW
http://is.gd/2ndxKi
YOU MIGHT BE INTERESTED IN TAKING A LOOK AT MY SHORT BOOK 'AFTERWARDS' WHICH TELLS THE STORIES OF THREE OF THE GUYS I HAVE COME TO KNOW SINCE WE ESTABLISHED OUR FIRST BASE VETERANS PROJECT THREE YEARS AGO. YOU WILL FIND IT IN THE KINDLE STORE BY FLOOWING THE LINK BELOW
http://is.gd/2ndxKi
ALSO YOU MIGHT WANT TO LOOK AT JAKE WOOD'S STAGGERINGLY FINE AND MOVING ACCOUNT OF HIS TIME IN IRAQ AND AFGHANISTAN AND THE PTSD NIGHTMARE HE HAS ENDURED EVER SINCE. YOU CAN FIND 'AMONG YOU' BY FOLLOWING THE LINK BELOW
How can we let this keep happening Mark. I am so so upset. The Army, Government and Society - should hang our heads in shame.
ReplyDeleteI have to say in Tinker's case Society actually came through pretty well. I think our local community can hold its head up high. No matter how low Tinker fell people always saw him for what he was and what be had done in all of our names. As for the Government and the army.... too bloody right. The stuff I left out of the blog is enough to make the blood boil.
ReplyDeleteSometimes all one can do is bear witness. Sometimes all one can do is pay tribute. An excellent job on both fronts Mark!
ReplyDeleteWouldn't mind reading that sometime Mark and having watched last nights Panorama prog, lets hope all those who need help get it and for as long as they require it, not just 3/4 times.
ReplyDeleteHi mark could you e mail me regarding tinkers funeral details please ,my brother in law was in the Falklands with Derek & a few of the paras would like to show their respects
ReplyDeleteRegards Hayley
Hi Haley. No problem. E mail me on markglenmill@aol.com and I will let you know as soon as a date is set. You will be delighted to know that the Regiment has come through wonderfully and they will be giving him a send off he would have loved. It was all sorted in a matter of hours. It has given a Civvy like myself a genuine insight into what a 'Band of Brothers' really means
ReplyDeleteThat's great news ,my hubby will email.your details to his brother as he now.stays in Cyprus ,would like to pay our respects also so will.email you regarding updates
ReplyDeleteRegards hayley
Hi mark your email doesn't work , mine is mastiffmama@live.co.uk
ReplyDeleteRegards Hayley
I have just dropped you an e mail which seems to have worked. Send me one back and we are in business!
ReplyDeleteGoodnight tinker you were one of a kind and will live on in our hearts. A man with genuine morality. Empathy. Humanity ..totaly says it all mark..Thoughts are with your boys whom you dotted on. Gone but never forgotten x
ReplyDeleteRIP Nobby. Hope to see you again soon my friend. But not too soon.
ReplyDeleteRiP Nobby, may you rejoice in Valhalla, your war and your battles are now over. Til the Final RV, farewell brother-in-arms, Airborne all the way!
ReplyDeleteIt's so easy for people to not think of the circumstances and stories that result in desperately sad, lost souls. Peace out Tinker.x
ReplyDelete