'My shipmates were trapped'
Updated on 01 February 2007
A first-person account of the attack on the HMS Sheffield, the opening salvo in the Falklands War.
Argentina and Britain at war
It was the day diplomacy died. When the Argentines fired an Exocet missile deep into the control room of the HMS Sheffield which became the first British warship to be sunk since World War 2, it became official; Argentina and Britain were at war. Twenty servicemen were killed and the British nation was in shock.
Leading Mechanic Ray Anderson recalls the attack and escaping the inferno that engulfed his shipmates.
High Spirits
Leading Marine Engineering Mechanic Ray Anderson
Although we were hearing snippets on British Forces Radio regarding what was happening in the Falklands, and the ranting and ravings of Maggie Thatcher, the crew of The Shiny Sheff were in high spirits.
We had just completed a long deployment to the Gulf, and we were a little over 24 hours from docking in Portsmouth and being reunited with our families.
On the final leg home we were to link up with naval forces from other countries to carry out some exercises.
A few days earlier there was a lot of movement in the dockyard of Gibraltar, stores and food ammunition all coming in.
Some of us also noticed the submarine that was alongside the day before had slipped its moorings during the night, we knew where she was headed.
The Captain (Sam Salt) broke the news to his crew that evening, we were not going home as planned - but heading south to join up with the Armada.
The Falklands? Where was it? Who was there?
I can't remember how long it took us to get down to the exclusion zone but however long it took, the crew of the Shiny Sheff used that time to check every piece of equipment.
From ammunition to food supplies, from fuel to squash. It also gave the crew time to reflect on what was going to happen over coming weeks.
Would the politicians of both countries manage to come to an agreement before it was too late?
Did you see it happen?
Do you have a story to tell from the Falklands conflict? Perhaps you or a close relative were in the forces, or maybe you were at the Portsmouth quayside as the ships set sail for the south Atlantic. Do you have pictures from the time?
Whatever your memories we want to hear from you. Email news@channel4.com, leave a 'Reader comment' at the bottom of this article, or use our postal address.
We were then told the Argentineans had dug in and were prepared to fight. We knew some form of battle was going to take place.
With all our personal belongings stowed away it was time to put the crew through its paces, the klaxon sounded and 'hands to action stations' was put over the ship's broadcast.
The crew of the Shiny Sheff was experienced.
The ship buttoned down very quickly with the forward (fwd) and after (aft) section bases all closed up, gun crews at their stations, and the operations (ops) room ready for anything. To stay at this level of readiness would be a total strain on the crew over long periods.
Sheffield was a type 42 destroyer and had a specific role to do. Armed with Sea Dart missiles, it was capable of taking out incoming enemy aircraft as well as missiles.
An array of radar systems were able to pick up almost everything. A flying visit from Admiral Sandy Woodward, who tried to explain the possible outcomes of various scenarios.
Then came the comment from SW: 'If you get hit it's because you didn't do your job properly.'
With that he left and headed back to the safety of the carrier group, some 20 miles back from where we were stationed.
'Within a matter of seconds there was a thud and a bump'
4 May 1982
Three ships lined up abreast, miles apart, and at least 20 miles ahead of the main carrier group. This was the picket line.
A quiet morning, little or no aircraft traffic, everyone on the ship was up and about, brunch had been served and the chefs were busy in the galley preparing food for the evening meal.
The fwd and aft section bases were closed up, men were dressed in protective fire fighting suits, patrols were out and about to ensure all doors and hatches remained closed.
Look outs on the bridge, gun positions manned.
I had been on watch in the aft section base for two hours and it was now time for me to relieve the HQ1 watchkeeper, so that he could return to the fwd section base.
Our jobs were to man the damage control boards, maintain radio contact between all three areas, and log all incidents - in short, ensuring the integrity of the ship was maintained.
I signed in and confirmed that I had communications (comms) in HQ1, with me was the marine engineering officer (MEO), the shipwright, and two others.
HQ1 is situated in the middle of the ship, adjacent to the main MCR. I had the port two deck passageway to my left, the MCR had the starboard passageway to their right.
Instructions from the main carrier group were received by the Sheffield to transmit on one of our satellite systems back to the UK.
Blinded
Using this system it knocked out the Sheffield's 909 radar, effectively making us blind. We should have been pulled back to the main carrier group to send this message - but were not.
Just before 2pm everything seemed to go very quiet. There was a hive of activity in the ops room, we could hear it on the intercom link.
'I apparently collapsed through smoke inhalation and exhaustion'
Also the radio for the starboard wing lookout was open and that was when we heard the warning.
The starboard lookout had seen a flash way off in the distance and screamed over his radio 'incoming, hit the deck.'
Within a matter of seconds there was a thud and a bump. It was kind of like a car going over a large stone in the road, then came the explosion, quickly followed by thick black smoke and the strong smell of burning rubber.
All the occupants of HQ1 were blasted out of the compartment and into the port passageway. Consoles and occupants from the MCR ended up in HQ1.
I quickly recovered, rubbed the back of my head where I had cracked it against the wall while flying through the air.
'No blood', I thought, and clambered over the debris to get to the damaged control board, re-establish communications with fwd and aft, and start to plot damage reports.
This was not easy, as by this time we had all put on our respirators to try to combat the smoke. There was lots of noise and I was trying to talk down a hand set.
Finally, the MEO made the decision to evacuate the area and head towards the aft section base.
To do this we had to crawl on our hands and knees out into the port passage way.
Screams
I heard the screams from shipmates who were trapped in what I can only assume as a burning inferno.
I reached the aft section base and reported to the officer in charge what I heard. However, to stand any chance of getting to them we had to deal with the fires.
I had the damage control board and tried to establish comms again with the fwd section base, plotting on the board as best I could with what little information was coming through.
We knew the fwd section base was doing the same. More crewmen put on fire fighting suits and under the direction of the MEO proceeded up the starboard side of the ship - hoses fully charged.
But for every three steps forward, they were pushed back two.
The heat was so intense, and they were being scalded with water from the hoses. It just seemed to boil as it hit the ships surfaces.
Paint on the bulkheads was blistering away, giving off horrible fumes and every so often crew were sent to the safety of the quarter deck to get some fresh air.
Everyone was soaked, scalded to some degree and what uniforms they had were in tatters.
A store room was below, and myself and another three crew decided to raid it for dry clothing, blankets and anything else we could carry out.
By now it was early evening and the crew had been trying to save the ship for the past four to five hours.
A fire was put out, another one would start. The heat and flames were getting dangerously close to the Sea Dart missiles and other ammunition lockers.
I believe this was the deciding factor for Sam Salt to abandon ship.
Topside I saw HMS Arrow was pumping water in through the hole made by the missile.
This was just above the water line and we were able to see that the missile had entered the fwd auxiliary machinery room, and main fuel tanks.
There was at least a 20ft swell, and the Arrow came alongside for the Sheffield crew to jump across.
I can remember one crewman who had put on his once only suit and actually jumped over the side into the sea. He was quickly picked up by a crew in an inflatable.
The rest of us timed the swell and jumped, one CPO misjudged and only managed to just grab the lower hand rail.
Myself and another guy helped pull him inboard, before the two ships came together again and crushed him.
I managed to drag myself down the ladders and enter the inner confines of Arrow. Then, nothing.
I apparently collapsed through smoke inhalation and exhaustion. I awoke some time later with IVs in both arms and was being stretchered to the flight deck for evacuation to Hermes.
During the next 48 hours my parents were told that I was reported missing. I cannot imagine what was going through their minds.
'I did not feel safe until my feet touched terra firma at Ascension'
'I still have nightmares'
The error was quickly rectified and my parents told that I safe and well on Hermes, although suffering from severe smoke damage.
It was another couple of days before all the survivors were able to get together onboard the Fort Austin, a supply ship in the area.
It was then that we were able to find out who did not survive. It affected everyone badly and in very different ways.
People started to drift off in all directions to be alone to try to come to terms of the past 72 hours.
For me personally I still have nightmares (not to often now) but I will never forget my shipmates who never came home.
And I will never forget the Shiny Sheff, she was my home for four years.
Our final days in the Falklands were spent on the oil tanker BP British ESK.
Fully laden with fuel, accommodation for a crew of 30 plus - which had now swollen to almost 300.
'We were sitting on a floating bomb'
Floating bomb
The Esk was not allowed to jettison her cargo of fuel and arrangements were quickly made to transfer it to ships that needed fuel.
However we were sitting on a floating bomb, and we wanted that fuel off quick so that we could head for the safety of the Ascension Islands and a flight home.
The Marine engineers got together and rigged up the fuel pipes ready to transfer the fuel to other ships.
I did not feel safe until my feet touched terra firma at Ascension Island.
