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The Life In The Marines and a Tribute to The Dead
Featured Author:
Fred Jacques
Fred is a former Royal Navy Commando and served mostly with the Royal Marines. He saw service in many places abroad but was wounded in the Falklands War. He misses service everyday and wishes he was still serving like the rest of us! However, he has swapped his SLR for family life and works as a security Guard.
Fred is a member of the site and you’ll find him here.
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Though I was part of the Royal Navy I really did not serve with them and almost all my career was with the Royal Marines.
Therefore the sea service was merely a transport system to us.
Basically, the ships we travelled on tended to be the larger ships such as HMS Ark Royal, Bulwark, Hermes, Fearless and Intrepid. Of course there was the awful Percival, Geraint, Lancelot and Sir Bedivere, which ran out of water 12 hours out of port and was as comfortable as a cat on a hot tin roof.
Most of the time was spent peeling potatoes, washing dishes or trying to keep fit on the limited space available. We’d become stir crazy and couldn’t hope enough to get onto Terra Firma. Though I must admit that the welcome showers and toilets were worth looking forward to on return. Also, they normally meant helicopters which were great news unless Prince Charles was flying one then we’d all avoid that one as much as we could as his piloting skills were the best coming in on his tail all the time – not advisable in a Wessex MK 5 or 7.
The worst part of the operation was the waiting – each day we would go to RM Condor, saying goodbye to the family not expecting to return home that night because of deployment, only to be sent home again whilst negotiations carried on with the Argentine government over their occupaltion of the Falklands.
The funny part was that having just returned from a tour in Northern Ireland we were sent on leave on the eve of 1st April, so when the Land Rovers arrived in the early hours of April fools day we thought someone was joking and ignored them until we realised that this was war!
When it was finally clear that we’d be leaving our familes, we said our goodbyes once again and travelled down to Portsmouth – I remember having butterflies in my stomach and wondering if the others felt the same? I knew they did but we never discussed such things. It didn’t help in combat knowing your buddy was bricking himself, but despite that, I’d never trust a man who had no concept of fear. It was from Portsmouth we embarked for the journey. Training continued and of course we had the ‘crossing the line’ ceremony for those that had not experienced it before. Then we had the Acension Island waiting for the word to go forward.
It may sound strange but when we landed the training just took over automatically, pure instinct (that’s testament to the great instruction with received back at camp in the early days) and we did what we had practised.
In the Falklands war it was hard to see people you knew killed and injured but really we had so little time to think about it that it really did not occur to me until I’d retuned home. The few breaks we had during the war when we grabbed a cigarette or a quick hot brew, we didn’t talk much, we were all too tired after the speed marches across the Islands so such things weren’t really faced.
During the falklands conflict we all remember when our navy boys sunk the Belgrano, it was coming all over the radios like a rash; she’d gone down with almost all hands. It was hard not to feel sorry for the poor buggers but this was real war and only a few days before we’d lost one of our own ships with many killed and injured.
After the war when we returned home and saw the missing faces, the new faces had replaced them, new lads that had appeared from the ‘factory’ as it were, and as always they were as good (it was the training that gave us the best and eliminated the weaker ones), but the faces were still missing. It brought out the fragility of life and how easy that it could be ended, but as always we just got on with it.
Its harder now as you look back because the faces remain the voices also but you know that you can no longer be with them or see them. I suppose that it’s all brought back by the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq and seeing the old Unit deploy and reading the casualty lists, knowing that you cannot do a damn thing for the new generation but pray and hope they come home. But war is a dirty business and make no mistake it’s ugly.
In the past few years I have come to the realisation of what my wife and family and those of my comrades in arms went through. In many ways it was easier for us, we were busy but with our military family, they were left at home grabbing at every snippet of news hoping it was not their man.
How could we ever understand that? It’s all pain and fear too. I wish I could pay tribute to all the families whom have waited for their children to return home safe.
I do not condone war, I abhor it. Yet, I am a former Soldier, a Royal Marine and I would do it all over again for family, friends and those who need our help to enjoy the freedom that we have.
More:
The Falklands Conflict (Op Corporate) – Part 1
The Falklands Conflict (Op Corporate) – Operation Black Buck
The Falklands Conflict: The Sinking of The ARA General Belgrano
The Falklands War Part 4 – Landing And Consolidation
realex99
about 1 year ago
2 comments
Good bless ya for your service. I really admire your courage to do it all over again. We love the men in arms.