The genre ' military fiction" initially confused me so what follows is my personal account of the Royal Navy's helicopter aircrew in the South Atlantic, in 1982.
All I recall of 8 June 1982, aboard the Sir Galahad, was " air raid warning red" screamed over the tannoy when the first bomb hit.
I was making toast for 2 paratroopers in the sick bay recovering from trench foot.
Acrid smoke blinded me immediately. However, as a Royal Marine, I knew the LSL ships very well.
Running, I got up on deck to find chaos. Chinese crew members clearly burnt, one shouted his mate was still in the galley, taking a deep breath, I went back down and found a body almost immediately.
Back on top, I realised I was in trouble, so I went over the side into the water. To this day I think about the baker, as it turned out, I had abandoned.
Climbing down a rope ladder I entered the water.
The cold hit me like a punch.
Swimming a few strokes, I found a jerry can and started to paddle.
That was when the sea churned up around me and a harness appeared right next to me. Hauled up into the Wessex helicopter the crewman gave a grin and I was deposited on the ground.
So, a big thank you to the crews of those helicopters who flew into blinding smoke with ammunition exploding all around them.