As the battle for Tumbledown was ending, 1/7th Gurkha Rifles were moving along a path below the northern cliffs of Tumbledown with Sergeant Hugh Wrega’s 9 Parachute Squadron section leading. About halfway along the track, when he reported a minefield covering the north-western slopes of Tumbledown, Morgan instructed him to find a way around. Fortunately, the Argentines had not laid mines right up to the cliff face and the Battalion edged through a gap. By the time the Gurkhas reached the eastern slopes and formed up to assault Mount William, the Scots Guards were masters of Tumbledown. In the gloomy dawn, Captain Villarraza’s Forward Observation Officer on Sapper Hill, Second Lieutenant Marcelo De Marco, radioed 3rd Artillery Group for airburst, which wounded eight Gurkhas. Sergeant Wrega’s section then breached a minefield on the saddle through which D Company advanced to Mount William to find it abandoned. Major Kefford prepared a firebase for the advance to Stanley Common. For his night’s work, Wrega was awarded the Military Medal.
On Tumbledown, everyone dived for cover when a sniper opened fire, a bullet cracking overhead between Lieutenant Colonel Morgan and his radio operator when Tac HQ were sheltering behind a rock. The Forward Observation Officer, Captain Keith Swinton, then announced to his bombardier that he believed he had been shot. The Bombardier replied, ‘So you have, sir.’ Swinton was evacuated to the RAP on Goat Ridge where the doctors put him to one side to be treated later. When Swinton protested that he had a serious chest wound, the medics told him he would undoubtedly live since the bullet had entered his chest, passed within an inch of his heart and exited without causing serous damage. The sniper turned out to be a member of the Scots Guard Recce Platoon who, seeing soldiers in the open, assumed them to be Argentines assembling for a counter-attack. When Lieutenant Colonel Morgan reported to Brigade HQ that Mount William was captured, he was told by Brigadier Wilson, ‘Stanley is yours.’ Morgan was slightly shocked by the order because he was opposed by an infantry brigade, two armoured car squadrons, seven 105mm batteries, one 155mm battery and several anti-aircraft batteries that could be used in the ground role. In his favour, Argentine morale was crumbling. As Morgan was preparing his orders, he was told by Wilson to go no further forward.
By the morning of 14 June, the Argentine forces were penned around Stanley and were under ceaseless bombardment, shelling and Harrier attacks. Fortunately, civilian casualties were low with three women killed when a British artillery shell hit a house. Sapper Hill was the last feature.
After supporting the attack on Mount Harriet, 1st Welsh Guards withdrew to the lake south of the feature under intermittent 155mm fire. On 12 June, Lieutenant Colonel Rickett warned the Battalion for the attack on Sapper Hill, as part of Phase Three. Next day, since Mount Harriet was a better vantage point for spotting, Major Jordan and a fire direction team from 97 Field Battery were flown to a position about 500 metres south of the feature and began the weary climb. However, shortly after setting off, 155mm shells shelled the slopes, forcing the group into cover for the next forty-five minutes. On the summit, it was evident that the registration of targets for the attack on Tumbledown was not yet complete and since the Scots Guards were a higher priority, adjustments for the Welsh Guards were discontinued. Jordan arrived back at Battalion HQ just as Rickett’s final orders were confirmed – be ready to exploit the attack on Mount Tumbledown by seizing Sapper Hill. Shortly after dark on 13 June, at about the same time as the Scots Guards started attacking Tumbledown, the Welsh Guards advanced towards a suspected enemy position about 2,000 metres south-west of Mount William. Since Brigade Intelligence believed there were three company positions on its axis of advance, Lieutenant Symes was instructed to send three patrols, one to each position, and report on the strength and disposition of the enemy. Lieutenant Hendicott listened to the 59 Independent Commando Squadron radio net and briefed Ricketts on likely minefields. At 6.45 pm, the Battalion set off in a long single file south of the road to Stanley with Symes’s Recce Platoon protecting the right flank. Rickett: ‘This was one of the most unpleasant nights that I can remember in my life, being shelled while virtually trapped in a horribly difficult stone run. Eventually we extricated ourselves from this and continued our advance with the Recce Platoon now in contact with Argentine minefields on the edge of Mount William.’
By 10.00 pm, the Battalion had advanced only about a mile from their lay-up position. Lieutenant Hendicott was surprised to find himself posted to the rear of the column with Battalion HQ as opposed to with the Commanding Officer. Hendicott:
We had only moved about three kilometers and it was then that both Staff Sergeant Smith and I commented on the fact that we were close to the area that I had briefed as being a minefield. The land also suggested a possibly mined area – a route between a lake and an area of very boggy ground south of the main road into Port Stanley. There were also some pieces of white tape at intervals on the ground (I later found that this was 2 Troop’s safe route marked for them to lead 42 Commando to their start line). No more than five minutes later we heard a small explosion – an anti personnel mine. The column stopped moving and we heard a light helicopter nearby and soon we were shelled accurately. (MacDonald, ‘Operation Corporate 59 Independent Commando Squadron RE’)
The helicopter was probably a 656 Squadron Scout collecting Tumbledown casualties. Lance Corporal Chris Pretty was a section commander in 9 Troop, C Company, 40 Commando (Lieutenant Carl Bushby) at the front of the column:
We passed around a small hillock and started moving alongside a small re-entrant. In the light of the moon we could see a stationary armoured vehicle across the valley pointing in the same direction as us. Using our infrared sites, it was one of the Scorpions. Going on a bit further and we were heads down with weight of equipment and supplies but keeping alert as we are not far from the Argentine positions. There was then a quiet ‘Whump’. And then about three seconds later, this terrible high-pitched screaming. Somewhere down the back of the column there had been an explosion and we thought it might have been a grenade going off in someone’s pouches. Word then came down the line that Lance Corporal ‘Mac’ Macgregor, in 7 Troop, had trod on an anti-personnel mine, which had blown his foot over the heads of those following him to hit one of the blokes in the face. As soon as we heard the word ‘mine’, we froze literally from the cold and also from not moving. The Troop officer, Lieutenant Paul Allen, then walked back down the column to see how things were going with Mac when he also trod on a mine, which also blew a foot off. Apparently he was pretty calm about it.
The Scorpion was supporting the Scots Guards diversionary attack on Pony Pass. Unwilling to move forward or, indeed into cover, off the track, the troops gingerly gathered in small groups in areas judged to be safe. The Welsh Guards were trapped in a minefield of unknown size and liable to be late for the 5 Infantry Brigade operation. Rickett sent his Adjutant, Captain Julian Sayers, to halt any movement until the minefield had been breached. Hendicott:
By now most men knew what had happened and they were reluctant to move to let me pass. It was with more than trepidation that I edged my way forward, past almost two hundred guardsmen and marines. I have never seen so many men remain so still for so long and it was then that I realized the faith they all had in me and my Troop; we were their main hope of getting out of their predicament – an entire battalion group in a minefield. I finally reached the scene of the casualties and was surprised that I was not at the head of the column and that both casualties had taken place within a couple of metres of one another … I was pleased to see that Corporal Smith had already started his section breaching the gap which had developed ahead. (MacDonald, ‘Operation Corporate 59 Independent Commando Squadron RE’)
A sapper or assault engineer crawls forward and prods the ground with a 6-inch spike. If he strikes something, he carefully clears away the earth to find out what it is. If it is a mine, it is defused and set to one side for eventual disposal. It seems likely that the pressure pad of the mines had frozen but were gradually pushed down as about thirty Royal Marines walked over them and then exploded. Rickett was anxious to advance and decided to press on. When 9 Troop came to the end of the tape, they saw some Royal Engineers sat down and, assuming that the minefield had been breached, the Royal Marines passed them, each man saying ‘Cheers, lads’, unaware that the sappers were actually taking a rest. Lance Corporal Pretty estimated the Welsh Guards were caught in the minefield for about four hours. A helicopter sent to evacuate the casualties drew artillery and mortar fire. The Battalion found a position about 800 metres to the south of Mount Harriet and watched the fighting on Tumbledown. The halt allowed Hendicott to debrief the sappers who had accompanied the Recce Platoon patrols. It turned out they had all entered the same minefield that had given Major Bethell such trouble. One patrol had captured four Argentines, who had been made to carry the bodies of Drill Sergeant Wight and Lance Corporal Pashley.
Learning that La Madrid’s counter-attack on Tumbledown was in trouble, Brigadier General Jofre was infuriated when Mino’s amphibious engineers again withdrew without any authority. When he ordered 5th Marine Infantry Battalion to regroup on Sapper Hill, Lieutenant Colonel Robacio and Major Jaimet were furious because they believed they were in a position to counterattack. Six years later, they openly criticized the decision. Robacio:
On the last day of the war, 14 June, at about 6.30am I thought that we were still winning. My unit hadn’t suffered any real losses. We hadn’t given up any of our positions. All we had lost was a very, very small part of Mount Tumbledown. I knew that we were running out of ammunition, so I asked my headquarters for more. We were concentrating our efforts on Mount Tumbledown because that was the battle that would seal the fate of Port Stanley. Unfortunately we never received the ammunition we needed. At about 7am, I received the order to withdraw prior to surrender. Our military code states that for an Argentine military unit to surrender it must have spent all its ammunition or lost at least two-thirds of its men. It was awful to have to ask the units that were still fighting to withdraw. It was a very bitter moment. We really felt defeated. You could see the battle coming to an end. (Villarno, Battalion 5)
Jaimet appointed Second Lieutenant Franco to cover the withdrawal of the Marine Infantry; he had already covered the Argentine withdrawal from Two Sisters. Jofre, in an interview with the mass-circulation Gent news magazine, stated:
Sometime during the morning, Robacio came on the air to advise me that his command post, near Felton Stream, was under direct attack. There are varying accounts of the report time, but I am sure, it was around 7am. ‘We are encircled’, Robacio told me in a hurried call. ‘All around us are British forces firing at us; at least 150 troops and more than a dozen tanks. We are not in a good position.’ This came as a shock to me. To us it was apparent at the time that Special Air Service personnel dressed in Argentine Army uniforms had mixed in with the 7th Regiment soldiers and under their cover infiltrated to the rear of the 5th Marine Infantry Battalion. Now we did have something to worry about.
The British troops and tanks referred to by Robacio were 2 Para and 4 Troop, the Blues and Royals, who had been released by 3 Commando Brigade to pursue the Argentines. There is absolutely no truth in the assertion that the SAS were mingling with Argentine soldiers, nevertheless their psychological value as ‘super soldiers’ was helpful. Brigadier General Jofre:
When I got back to Robacio I made it clear that he should regroup on Sapper Hill. Apart from re-opened communications in the rear and an abundance of ammunition, there would be a dozen Army radar-guided anti-aircraft guns and C Company, 3rd Regiment to support him. In his earlier reports he had reported a shortage of belt-fed ammunition for the machine guns and pressing requirements for casualty evacuation. It would be very loathsome to somehow suggest that I was a quitter, that somehow I misled and that we did something wrong. That is nonsense. To stay would have necessitated re-organising our deployment in broad daylight. There was no immediate response to this. Obviously he had more confidence in the situation than I did. I patiently chewed at my fingernails for as long as I could tolerate it. I then got on to battalion headquarters for an explanation. I was told that O Company was planning a counter-attack. From my point of view we had already lost too much time and I was anxious to get the companies off Tumbledown and the withdrawal under way while we still had darkness. It was still dark outside. I asked Jaimet if his company could hold out for another hour as we were planning to pull the 5th Marine Infantry Battalion back and up on and around Sapper Hill. Jaimet agreed. Villarraza waited for artillery to open up to signal that he could get away. At 9.45 Jaimet was ordered to withdraw and although hindered by British fire his company was able to break clear. All 5th Marine Infantry Battalion elements had reached Sapper Hill by 10am.
Jofre, believing that British heliborne troops would assault Sapper Hill, had selected it as a strongpoint for C Company, 3rd Infantry Regiment and M Company, 5th Marine Infantry Battalion. 25th Infantry Regiment was creating another strongpoint on the outskirts of Stanley.
At about 7.30 am, Lieutenant Colonel Rickett learnt the Scots Guards no longer required reinforcement and withdrew to the lake. At about 9.30 am, Rickett received orders from Brigadier Wilson to attack Sapper Hill; a flight of Sea Kings would be with him soon. Not too happy about attacking in broad daylight, Rickett was assured that he would be supported by shelling, bombing by Harriers and by 3 Troop, the Blues and Royals. Within fifteen minutes the Welsh Guards were ready to move and when the helicopters arrived, Rickett briefed the pilots to drop the Battalion on the track south of Tumbledown and about 3 miles from Sapper Hill. Recce Platoon had reported that there were mines but not on the track itself. After a very short flight, the Welsh Guards were landed on the track, however it turned out to be an extension of ‘Bethell’s’ minefield. Two helicopters carrying 9 Troop missed the rendezvous and approached Sapper Hill. The Argentines watched with incredulity. ‘I was so mad; I wanted to shoot both helicopters out of the sky,’ recalled Second Lieutenant Llambias-Pravaz. Lance Corporal Pretty remembers that it was broad daylight and his helicopter hurtled along almost at ground level. He thought the duration of the flight over the expected distance was a little long and then the nose of the Sea King lifted sharply for a battle landing. The Royal Marines braced themselves for a heavy landing and rapid debussing. Pretty:
No problem, we would be out and start our work in the normal fashion under the watchful eye of the Gurkhas. Before we had the chance to land properly, the whole of the left side of the helicopter came blasting in with bits and pieces flying everywhere. The nose was deafening. The helicopter thudded on to the deck and the guys started spilling out immediately, trying to find cover and identify where they were. We had landed on a small light coloured track in the middle of nowhere and the helicopters were still being shot up. Someone suggested it was the Gurkhas on Mount William. The helicopters then revved up and banked over to the south, leaving 9 Troop under heavy fire. Someone said that the road might be mined on both sides but it seemed better to be in the middle of a minefield than in the open without any cover. The Argentines were only a short distance away on a small hill. With the 17-year old Marine Vince Coombes giving covering fire by spraying the hill with his machine gun from the hip, I stood in the middle of the road and pushed guys off the road into cover afforded by a tiny bank about 8-feet high.
The firefight rolled backwards and forwards. Lieutenant Bushby radioed for help, but he was using a trailing antenna, as opposed to a whip aerial, and was unsuccessful. Marine Coombes was badly wounded in the arm and a second man, who was not wearing a helmet, suffered a head wound; when another thought that he had been hit in the backside, it turned that his rear pouches had been shot off. An Argentine attack on the Royal Marines right flank was driven back. Lieutenant Bushby then gingerly raised the trailing wire, fully expecting his arm to be shot off, and learnt from Captain Pillar that the Argentines were surrendering. The firing gradually slowed down and the Argentines simply evacuated Sapper Hill, as the Royal Marines very slowly got to their feet. The whole action had taken no more than ten minutes and was the last of the war. Rickett was anxious to link up with C Company:
Just as we crossed our Start Line, my Battery Commander held his radio to my ear as Tony Holt, the Gunner CO, wanted to speak urgently to me. Suffice to say that we were out of communications with 5 Brigade but the Gunners always seem to get through! I was told that white flags were up in Stanley, that we were only to fire if we were fired upon first and that the Brigade Commander wished me to hasten with all speed for Sapper Hill. By this time we could hear firing from the area of the forward troop, which had been dropped too far forward. Captain Pillar duly reported that they were under fire from the Argentine positions on Sapper Hill. He appeared rather reluctant to move his company forward. He wasn’t totally in the picture on my last radio transmission with 5 Brigade, so together we all moved at best possible speed down the track, firstly to link up with his Troop and secondly, to get to Sapper Hill fast. I had already summoned the Blues and Royals Troop but it seemed to take an awful long time to catch up with us! Undaunted we linked up with 9 Troop, where one Royal Marine had been shot. We hurried past them and, at last, the Blues and Royals arrived. Jumping on the lead vehicle with my command group and telling Andy’s company to follow on at best speed, we occupied Sapper Hill from the rear i.e. from the Stanley side and occupied it. There was no resistance as Argentine soldiers had been withdrawn to Stanley leaving their dead behind them. The remainder of the Battalion soon joined us and I gave out positions for the companies to man.
While the Welsh Guards were reorganizing on Sapper Hill, 45 Commando appeared from the west and the two commanding officers divided the hill between them. The iconic photograph, ‘Yomping into Stanley’, which appeared on the cover of many publications in 1982, features the back view of Corporal Peter Robinson and was taken by Petty Officer Peter Holdgate as 45 Commando were advancing toward Stanley just after the ceasefire. Robinson had put the Union Flag on his aerial, however it blew off in a gust of wind and fluttered into a minefield just as they approaching Sapper Hill. Delicately retrieved and ‘re-masted’, it produced a picture that sums up the Falklands campaign. When Lieutenant Hendicott’s Troop left for Sapper Hill, they were at war, and when they arrived, not only were they the first Royal Engineers on Sapper Hill, the Argentines had also surrendered. The Blues and Royals arrived soon afterwards.
As early as 5 June, Lieutenant Colonel Rose, working with Captain Bell translating, had been trying to persuade the Argentines to seek terms. Messages after Phases One and Two had not convinced Menendez to surrender; however by the time Sapper Hill had been captured, they were reminded that nowhere was not covered by artillery fire. The accidental heliborne assault on Sapper Hill convinced Brigadier General Jofre that further resistance was pointless. He recalls:
As predicted, British helicopter-borne infantry, 40th Commando Battalion, lost no time in following up until checked with a bloody nose at Sapper Hill. After that things went from bad to worse. No sooner had Jaimet reached Sapper Hill, Colonel Dalton, the Brigade Operations Officer, told me ‘Many soldiers are in a strange state and the kelpers are bound to get hurt. One 3rd Regiment platoon has been told to go into the houses by a fanatical lieutenant, who has also ordered the men to kill the kelpers – something awful is happening.’ I’ll never forget that moment. It was like a lightning bolt had hit me. It was becoming evident to me that I was no longer at the control. ‘We’ve had it. The lives of the kelpers are being risked.’ I told General Menendez and he realized that there was no question of fighting any further. Menendez told me that he wished to talk to Galtieri to arrange a ceasefire. I agreed. It was all over. Fighting on Sapper Hill was out of the question.
At 9.00 am, Dr Alison Bleaney persuaded Naval Captain Melbourne Hussey, Menendez’s chief administration officer, to urge Menendez to agree to talks. At first, President Galtieri insisted on no surrender, but when he realized the futility of further fighting, he authorized Menendez to begin negotiations. At 3.30 pm, Rose and Bell flew into Stanley to open negotiations at the Secretariat and then at 6.30 pm, Rose signalled Major General Moore that Menendez had agreed to a ceasefire.
An eerie silence drifted across the battlefield as the news spread that the Argentines were falling back. A television crew persuaded Major Dawson, at 1/7th Gurkha Rifles Battalion HQ, to shout, ‘There is a white flag flying over Stanley. Bloody marvellous. Tee Hee!’ It took several takes before the crew were happy. In fact, there was only one white flag and it was flying from a house, however it sounded good, particularly outside No. 10 Downing Street. 5 Infantry Brigade, in a dominant position to protect 3 Commando Brigade, was ordered by Major General Moore to go firm while 3 Commando Brigade advanced along the road into Stanley, with 2 Para leading, most radios switched off to avoid being told to halt. Eventually, Brigadier Thompson, following behind, personally ordered them to stop, which they did near the racecourse. Although the ceasefire and surrender negotiations were at a sensitive stage, the only person to continue was the ubiquitous Evening Standard journalist, Max Hastings, still under military discipline:
We sat on the racecourse until, after about twenty minutes I was looking at the road and there seemed to be no movement. I thought, well I’m a civilian so why shouldn’t I go ahead and see what’s going on because there didn’t seem to be much resistance. So I stripped off all my combat clothes and I began to walk up the road with my hands in the air and my handkerchief in my hand. (Evening Standard)
Hastings, setting a standard that other journalists have since followed, and risking protection under the Geneva Conventions by removing his uniform, reached the Secretariat where he met some Falkland Islanders who had just been told about the ceasefire. Then, obtaining permission to enter Stanley from an Argentine colonel, he passed bewildered Argentine soldiers withdrawing into Stanley until he reached the Upland Goose Hotel. In obtaining the scoop of his life, he could have been arrested as a spy, which could have jeopardized the negotiations.
In Stanley, no one was sure what was happening. Defeated units were streaming into Stanley and consequently the Argentine military authorities had advised residents to stay indoors, for their own safety. Then, after a delay because of a heavy snow storm, Moore flew into Stanley at 7.30 pm and within half an hour witnessed Menendez signing the Instrument of Surrender in the building that now houses Stanley Museum. John Smith was having a cup of tea in West Store when Moore walked in and with masterly aplomb said, ‘Hello, I’m Jeremy Moore. Sorry it’s taken rather a long time to get here.’ Seventy-four days of occupation were over. (Evening Standard)
Hastings summed up the war: ‘I imagine when everyone has seen what little there is of this little provincial town to be seen, we shall all be asking ourselves why so many brave men had to die because a whimsical dictator, in a land of which we knew little, had at all costs to possess it.’ (Evening Standard)
British forces took the surrender of Argentine garrisons on West Falkland and Pebble Island. On 20 June, the Argentines on South Thule surrendered to the Recce Troop detachment, commanded by Sergeant Napier, with M Company, 42 Commando on South Georgia. Meanwhile, the 11,484 prisoners were being processed with 593 senior officers, intelligence officers and specialists retained as special category prisoners for further interrogation until 14 July. Within the week, 10,250 had been repatriated where their welcome was less than warm. A small number of Argentine engineers gave their parole to help British sappers clear mines and dismantle booby traps. A huge amount of equipment was captured including armoured cars, guns, arms and ammunition, rations and stores. When Flight Lieutenant Glover was released on 6 July, this essentially signalled the end of Argentina’s expedition to recover the Falklands. The lonely Falklands soon became a fortress.