Latest news with #FalklandsWar
Yahoo
2 days ago
- Politics
- Yahoo
Strategizing With Ghosts
I have taught strategy in war colleges in the United States and other countries. Like most instructors, I describe strategy as an endeavor that strives to match ends and means in a rational way, a dialogue between soldiers and politicians seeking to use force for political purposes. That is certainly what the senior officers who attend such institutions believe. A recent multiweek swing through European capitals, however, has emphasized for me that among the most important influences on the choices that countries make about war and peace are ghosts: memories—be they accurate, fanciful, or, more typically, something in between—of historical experiences and personalities from a remembered past, sometimes reaching back centuries. Several days in London spent speaking to all manner of generals and spymasters, scholars, and advisers to government, for example, brought home the long shadow of empire that still shapes British military policy, for good and for ill. It was tangible while walking through the House of Lords and seeing the coats of arms of field marshals and admirals of the fleet, as it was during the celebration of V-E Day by veterans, admittedly of later wars, wearing the regimental ties and bonnets of defunct but storied regiments. Imperial self-assurance and memory helps explain Britain's remarkable leadership in dealing with the full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022. Boris Johnson, whatever his peccadilloes, channeled Churchill's ghost by dashing off to Kyiv, pushing advanced weapons on Ukraine well before America did, and offering a security guarantee to Sweden as it began to move toward NATO membership. Not only Churchill but Palmerston or Pitt the Younger would have approved of such statecraft. Johnson is well read and eloquent enough to summon their spirits. Unfortunately, however, the reality of actual British power does not match its reach. The U.K. possesses outstanding niche capacities in the world of special operations and intelligence gathering, but its navy now has barely a quarter as many surface combatants as it did during the Falklands War; its nuclear force is obsolescent; and its army is tiny, albeit of high quality. The suggestion by British politicians that the U.K. could regularly deploy a brigade—say, some 4,000 soldiers—as part of a reassurance force to Ukraine in the event of a cease-fire was privately mocked by experts. The U.K. does not have enough troops to do that. The countries of Eastern Europe wrestle with different ghosts. Estonia is haunted by the Soviet Union's brutal occupation after World War II and the mass deportations of tens of thousands of Estonians, including the family of Kaja Kallas, the European Union's current high representative for foreign affairs and security policy. After the war, as in the other Baltic states, partisans fought the Soviets for another decade, and in some cases even beyond. The memories of those deported, killed, imprisoned, or tortured are with current leaders; so, too, are the ghosts of those who achieved a precarious independence after World War I only to lose it again to the Muscovites. It has led Estonians not only to arm themselves to the teeth and commit utterly to Ukraine's aid, but to disdain the condescending lectures of West Europeans who sought reconciliation with Russia after the Cold War. 'I was studying in Sweden in 1975,' one retired Estonian statesman told me, 'and no one then referred to the Federal Republic of Germany as the 'former Nazi Third Reich.' But somehow the West Europeans, 30 years after we regained our independence, think it's okay to refer to us as 'former Soviet republics.'' The Russian invasion of Ukraine in 2022 has changed much of that, but the ghosts of the Soviet period still haunt the relationship between edgy and exposed frontline states and those more comfortably situated to the West that never felt the Russian lash. Finnish and Polish ghosts are rather different. Conversations with Finns about the Russian threat invariably turn to the Winter War, the spectacular fight that Finland put up against the Red Army in 1939–40. The heroism, the sense of having to be ready to fight alone and the payoff for being prepared to do so, has shaped Finnish strategic culture to the present day. But NATO membership—and with it the need to fight as part of an alliance elsewhere than along the 850-mile Russian-Finnish border—is something Finns struggle with. For Poland, the national strategic ghosts are those of betrayal. France and Britain failed to do much while Poland was crushed between Germany and the Soviet Union in 1939. In the Polish understanding, the country was betrayed again at the Yalta Conference in 1945. If past glories lead British statesmen to offer more than they can deliver, past horrors incline Poles to be suspicious of requests to do more than they deem prudent. When discussing whether Poland should contribute to a reassurance force stationed in Ukraine (rather than just over the border), a Polish general first explained the operational requirements of Poland's large army to fend off various other threats and then offered this response: 'You Americans asked us to follow you into Iraq. I lost men there, whom I still mourn. And now you want us to do this, when you are not willing to do it yourselves?' He had a point. But a rich and increasingly powerful Poland, with the best and largest land army in Europe outside Ukraine, will need to assume a leadership role for which its history has not prepared it. Europeans now speak of an E-4, composed of Britain, France, Germany, and Poland, that may steer the West's support to embattled Ukraine. That is a step in the right direction, at least. The millions of Ukrainian ghosts, victims of suffering at Russia's hand, explain Ukraine's extraordinary tenacity. Russia's predatory imperial ghosts, who have gathered in legions over centuries of conquest of neighboring lands, have lured Vladimir Putin into a project to restore the Russian empire, one that Russians insist to this day 'has no borders.' The ghosts who fell in America's ill-starred wars in Afghanistan and Iraq are among the reasons (including others far less worthy) for J. D. Vance's and Donald Trump's snarls about renouncing the use of American military power abroad. But even Trump's government cannot quite dispel the worthier ghosts of its past—the U.S. ambassador to NATO, Matthew Whitaker, recently avowed America's commitment to the alliance, despite 'America First,' in a speech in Tallinn. In Europe, at least, some of the ghosts may be gradually dissipating. Germany's new government is willing to break with its past in sacrificing thrift for the imperatives of continental defense. It is also willing to put to rest some of the (self-serving) ghosts of guilt-based aversion to military spending. Sweden has set aside its romanticized history of neutrality for participation in an alliance, although not without misgivings. As one shrewd Swedish strategist put it, 'There we were in our sailboat, the good sloop Nonalignment. A storm blew up, and we were delighted to be rescued by the mighty ocean liner SS NATO. The other passengers were wonderful, the bar excellent—and then we learned that there was a new captain who has decided he wants to play games of chicken with icebergs.' 'War has a way of masking the stage with scenery crudely daubed with fearsome apparitions,' Carl von Clausewitz wrote. Although it is true that we can never quite escape the ghosts, be they benign or malignant, that surround strategists, it is also necessary to lay many of them to rest, if only to find the ways and means to protect this and later generations from murderous madness. For Ukraine and the European future, this exorcism is a moderate sign of hope in a world that is indeed haunted by perfectly reasonable forebodings. Article originally published at The Atlantic
Atlantic
2 days ago
- Politics
- Atlantic
Strategizing With Ghosts
I have taught strategy in war colleges in the United States and other countries. Like most instructors, I describe strategy as an endeavor that strives to match ends and means in a rational way, a dialogue between soldiers and politicians seeking to use force for political purposes. That is certainly what the senior officers who attend such institutions believe. A recent multiweek swing through European capitals, however, has emphasized for me that among the most important influences on the choices that countries make about war and peace are ghosts: memories—be they accurate, fanciful, or, more typically, something in between—of historical experiences and personalities from a remembered past, sometimes reaching back centuries. Several days in London spent speaking to all manner of generals and spymasters, scholars, and advisers to government, for example, brought home the long shadow of empire that still shapes British military policy, for good and for ill. It was tangible while walking through the House of Lords and seeing the coats of arms of field marshals and admirals of the fleet, as it was during the celebration of V-E Day by veterans, admittedly of later wars, wearing the regimental ties and bonnets of defunct but storied regiments. Imperial self-assurance and memory helps explain Britain's remarkable leadership in dealing with the full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022. Boris Johnson, whatever his peccadilloes, channeled Churchill's ghost by dashing off to Kyiv, pushing advanced weapons on Ukraine well before America did, and offering a security guarantee to Sweden as it began to move toward NATO membership. Not only Churchill but Palmerston or Pitt the Younger would have approved of such statecraft. Johnson is well read and eloquent enough to summon their spirits. Unfortunately, however, the reality of actual British power does not match its reach. The U.K. possesses outstanding niche capacities in the world of special operations and intelligence gathering, but its navy now has barely a quarter as many surface combatants as it did during the Falklands War; its nuclear force is obsolescent; and its army is tiny, albeit of high quality. The suggestion by British politicians that the U.K. could regularly deploy a brigade—say, some 4,000 soldiers—as part of a reassurance force to Ukraine in the event of a cease-fire was privately mocked by experts. The U.K. does not have enough troops to do that. The countries of Eastern Europe wrestle with different ghosts. Estonia is haunted by the Soviet Union's brutal occupation after World War II and the mass deportations of tens of thousands of Estonians, including the family of Kaja Kallas, the European Union's current high representative for foreign affairs and security policy. After the war, as in the other Baltic states, partisans fought the Soviets for another decade, and in some cases even beyond. The memories of those deported, killed, imprisoned, or tortured are with current leaders; so, too, are the ghosts of those who achieved a precarious independence after World War I only to lose it again to the Muscovites. It has led Estonians not only to arm themselves to the teeth and commit utterly to Ukraine's aid, but to disdain the condescending lectures of West Europeans who sought reconciliation with Russia after the Cold War. 'I was studying in Sweden in 1975,' one retired Estonian statesman told me, 'and no one then referred to the Federal Republic of Germany as the 'former Nazi Third Reich.' But somehow the West Europeans, 30 years after we regained our independence, think it's okay to refer to us as 'former Soviet republics.'' The Russian invasion of Ukraine in 2022 has changed much of that, but the ghosts of the Soviet period still haunt the relationship between edgy and exposed frontline states and those more comfortably situated to the West that never felt the Russian lash. Finnish and Polish ghosts are rather different. Conversations with Finns about the Russian threat invariably turn to the Winter War, the spectacular fight that Finland put up against the Red Army in 1939–40. The heroism, the sense of having to be ready to fight alone and the payoff for being prepared to do so, has shaped Finnish strategic culture to the present day. But NATO membership—and with it the need to fight as part of an alliance elsewhere than along the 850-mile Russian-Finnish border—is something Finns struggle with. For Poland, the national strategic ghosts are those of betrayal. France and Britain failed to do much while Poland was crushed between Germany and the Soviet Union in 1939. In the Polish understanding, the country was betrayed again at the Yalta Conference in 1945. If past glories lead British statesmen to offer more than they can deliver, past horrors incline Poles to be suspicious of requests to do more than they deem prudent. When discussing whether Poland should contribute to a reassurance force stationed in Ukraine (rather than just over the border), a Polish general first explained the operational requirements of Poland's large army to fend off various other threats and then offered this response: 'You Americans asked us to follow you into Iraq. I lost men there, whom I still mourn. And now you want us to do this, when you are not willing to do it yourselves?' He had a point. But a rich and increasingly powerful Poland, with the best and largest land army in Europe outside Ukraine, will need to assume a leadership role for which its history has not prepared it. Europeans now speak of an E-4, composed of Britain, France, Germany, and Poland, that may steer the West's support to embattled Ukraine. That is a step in the right direction, at least. The millions of Ukrainian ghosts, victims of suffering at Russia's hand, explain Ukraine's extraordinary tenacity. Russia's predatory imperial ghosts, who have gathered in legions over centuries of conquest of neighboring lands, have lured Vladimir Putin into a project to restore the Russian empire, one that Russians insist to this day 'has no borders.' The ghosts who fell in America's ill-starred wars in Afghanistan and Iraq are among the reasons (including others far less worthy) for J. D. Vance's and Donald Trump's snarls about renouncing the use of American military power abroad. But even Trump's government cannot quite dispel the worthier ghosts of its past—the U.S. ambassador to NATO, Matthew Whitaker, recently avowed America's commitment to the alliance, despite 'America First,' in a speech in Tallinn. In Europe, at least, some of the ghosts may be gradually dissipating. Germany's new government is willing to break with its past in sacrificing thrift for the imperatives of continental defense. It is also willing to put to rest some of the (self-serving) ghosts of guilt-based aversion to military spending. Sweden has set aside its romanticized history of neutrality for participation in an alliance, although not without misgivings. As one shrewd Swedish strategist put it, 'There we were in our sailboat, the good sloop Nonalignment. A storm blew up, and we were delighted to be rescued by the mighty ocean liner SS NATO. The other passengers were wonderful, the bar excellent—and then we learned that there was a new captain who has decided he wants to play games of chicken with icebergs.' 'War has a way of masking the stage with scenery crudely daubed with fearsome apparitions,' Carl von Clausewitz wrote. Although it is true that we can never quite escape the ghosts, be they benign or malignant, that surround strategists, it is also necessary to lay many of them to rest, if only to find the ways and means to protect this and later generations from murderous madness. For Ukraine and the European future, this exorcism is a moderate sign of hope in a world that is indeed haunted by perfectly reasonable forebodings.
LeMonde
26-05-2025
- Entertainment
- LeMonde
In Argentina, 'The Eternaut' series rekindles search for babies stolen during the dictatorship
In the middle of summer, it starts snowing in Buenos Aires. The snowfall causes the sudden death of residents who venture outside unprotected. A greater menace lurks. To face it, protagonist Juan Salvo and his friends band together. The six-episode science fiction series The Eternaut (directed by Bruno Stagnaro, released in April on Netflix) was highly anticipated in Argentina, its country of origin. The cast features the iconic Ricardo Darin and Carla Peterson, with ambitious production values, special effects, and apocalyptic scenes. Although designed for an international audience, the series is filled with distinctly Argentine elements. In addition to the omnipresent Buenos Aires, there is an explicit reference to the Falklands War (1982) and the country's great popular singers – folk music by Mercedes Sosa, cumbia by Gilda and tango by Carlos Gardel, among others. While the series is set in the present day, it also takes the country back to the era of military dictatorship (1976-1983). Above all, it has reignited a search that has lasted for more than four decades: the search for stolen babies. The Eternaut was originally a cult comic book by author Héctor Germán Oesterheld, illustrated by Francisco Solano López, published between 1957 and 1959, and then again in 1976 for the second part.
Telegraph
17-05-2025
- Politics
- Telegraph
Vandalising a Falklands landing craft to make woke gestures is a disgrace
I often wonder whether anyone from a so-called minority group actually lobbies for the nonsense virtue signallers come up with. Take the recent decoration of a Falklands War landing craft. It has been wrapped in rainbow-coloured vinyl to celebrate Pride. The rebranding of Foxtrot 8, which landed Royal Marine and Parachute Regiment soldiers on the South Atlantic archipelago, has provoked uproar among veterans. Portsmouth Historic Quarter, which owns it, commissioned the decoration to mark the 25th anniversary of the ban on homosexuality within the Armed Forces being lifted. Will gays and lesbians have actively campaigned for this? I seriously doubt it. Yet, still the rainbowification of this craft happened, despite it being dubbed 'divisive' by Rear Admiral Chris Parry, who was mentioned in despatches for his actions in the war. As he rightly pointed out: 'This battle was fought and won 25 years ago when gays were openly allowed in the Armed Forces. In fact, the first gay officer in the Navy was in my ship. He was allowed to come out quite openly. This is something that has been fought and won. The drum doesn't need banging any more.' While the wokerati are busily waging wars that have already been won, Northern Ireland veterans are facing the battle of their lives to avoid prosecution for following orders during the Troubles. Labour's shameful plan to reduce legal protection for the soldiers who defended the nation against IRA terrorists will only make the problem worse. Where's the campaigning against this obvious injustice? If the Portsmouth powers-that-be really wanted to stand up for veterans, they would use Foxtrot 8 to advertise the parliamentary petition that is currently doing the rounds, urging Labour not to go ahead with proposals that not only betray those who served, but also the families of those killed by paramilitary violence during this heinous period of modern history.
Daily Mirror
17-05-2025
- General
- Daily Mirror
Luxury Brit liner sent to brutal war - with astonishing comparison to Titanic
A fascinating new book revealing what is was like for crew and soldiers on QE2's epic voyage in 1982 to save lives in the Falklands War has been published on the 43rd anniversary of the South Atlantic conflict Cunard's Queen Elizabeth 2 offered the ultimate in fine dining cruising, but on this voyage, instead of suckling pig being served on bone china plates, passengers collected 'stodge' on trays from the canteen. Rather than the strains of an orchestra playing in the ballroom, the clump-clump of booted feet echoed around the hardboard-clad passageways that had been laid to protect miles of the ship's soft deep-pile carpets. And instead of lights from the chandeliers shining from the hundreds of portholes, all windows had been blacked out. The trappings of a luxury cruise ship, from her silverware and paintings to the casino tables, had been offloaded to transport 3,000 troops from 5 Infantry Brigade – made up of battalions from the Scots Guards, Welsh Guards and Gurkha Rifles – to launch an assault on Port Stanley in the South Atlantic, some 8,000 miles away. Among the brave soldiers onboard was 20-year-old Welsh Guardsman Simon Weston, who survived severe burns to his face and hands after his ship RFA Sir Galahad was attacked. It was QE2's finest hour – and she was at war. Now, 60 years after they started building the world's greatest ever liner, a fascinating new book about the QE2's crucial role in the Falklands War has been published to coincide with its 43rd anniversary. Co-authors of The QE2 in the Falklands War: Troopship to the South Atlantic, Commodore Ronald Warwick and Professor David Humphreys, both served on the historic voyage. Ronald Warwick, now 85, served as chief officer when he was 42, while David was a senior accounts petty officer, then aged 25. Neither had expected QE2 to be requisitioned when the Thatcher government dispatched a naval task force to set sail within 72 hours of Argentina invading the Falklands Islands on April 2, 1982. 'There were 45 merchant ships requisitioned to assist the Royal Navy, including the P&O liner Canberra,' explains David, 62, of Canterbury, Kent. 'Word went round that QE2 was just too big and too famous to go down, so we sailed to Philadelphia. 'We were coming back across the Atlantic when we got within 12 miles of the coast on May 3 and could pick up radio and TV signals, and heard on the Jimmy Young Show that we had been requisitioned. 'Everybody went to find a TV set to watch the BBC 1 O'Clock news. It was standing-room-only when the Secretary of State made the announcement. A cheer went up and Ron and I were among the 660 crew who volunteered for the voyage.' Captain Hutcheson then made a tannoy announcement informing everyone that QE2 would be withdrawn from commercial service on arrival at Southampton. He told a reporter at the time: 'I think the troops will enjoy Cunard luxury.' The crew who volunteered for QE2's epic voyage were under no illusion as to the dangers they would face. 'Wills were written and one couple even brought forward their marriage plans,' writes David. ' When we sailed from Southampton, we had no idea where we were going. The Belgrano had just been sunk and war was getting very real.' Although Captain Hutcheson remained onboard, Captain Peter Jackson, who had served in the Second World War, took over command. Over the next eight days, the liner was converted into a troopship – the two swimming pools were covered with steel pads strong enough to hold Sea King helicopters. QE2 did not have the fuel tank capacity to travel non-stop to the South Atlantic, and modifications had to be made so she could refuel at sea. It was calculated that the fuel bill would cost $1m for a one-way trip. Urgent structural work was carried out by Vosper Thornycroft shipyard in Southampton, which had modified the Canberra. 'There was talk of redundancies, but when the Falklands War came along, they were spared,' remembers David. 'It was a very intense period. The superstructure was cut away at the aft of the ship to build the helicopter deck, and the cruise liner accoutrements were offloaded - including posh food like lobster tails, caviar and foie gras and we took on board carb-heavy food for the troops.' Lorries removed deckchairs and valuable furniture, which were replaced with stacking chairs, camp beds and trestle tables, along with tons of ammunition and military equipment, including helicopters, drums of fuel and Land Rovers, which were carried on QE2's open decks. The structural changes, along with 4,000 passengers and all the extra equipment meant when QE2 sailed from Southampton on May 12, 1982, with thousands of well-wishers lining the quayside, she was below the Plimsoll line. 'Normally there would be 1,000 crew and 2,000 passengers. So there were more souls on board for that voyage than ever sailed in the ship before or since,' adds David. Extra life jackets were loaded for everyone on board. While, included in the £60,000-worth of medical supplies were sea sickness tablets, which would be needed in the rough seas. 'The Gurkhas suffered very badly and had to be berthed on the lowest Passenger deck which has less motion,' says David. But spirits on board were high. Soldiers would jog around the boat deck for their daily exercise and the function rooms, which were used for training during the day, were used as bars for troops to relax and buy their daily quota of two cans of beer in the evening. As they drank their way through 6,000 cans of beer and 3,500 cans of soft drinks every night, a large gang of night stewards cleaned their rooms. David also reveals that, despite the ship's strict non-fraternisation rule, there were lots of parties. 'There were three groups of senior officers from the QE2, NP1980 and 5 Infantry Brigade, and it was decided they would host receptions for each other. On one occasion, an evening of bagpipes and drums was described by an officer as 'excellent stuff, but a little hard on the ears in a small room'.' Troops only had access to one shop onboard which sold chocolate, cigarettes and souvenirs – all at cost price plus a 10% to cover staff wages. And the ship's hairdresser turned his salon into a barbers - charging 75p a haircut - saying: 'I'm more used to blow dry and set, not short back and sides.' After six days at sea on Tuesday, May 18, QE2 docked at Freetown in Sierra Leone to take on fuel and fresh water, before sailing silently away. David recalls: 'The climate in the port was hot and humid, and some of the troops exercising on the upper decks got sunburnt. 'Until now, QE2 had transmitted messages, but after leaving Freetown complete radio silence was observed. 'It was only when we arrived at Ascension Island on May 20 that we realised we were going to South Georgia and that we would not be permitted to go in close to the Falklands.' David also reveals that co-author Ron discovered evidence that the Argentinians thought QE2 would sail with a Royal Navy escort direct for the Falklands. He says: 'Instead, we relied on our speed and sailed without a Royal Navy escort direct for South Georgia.' Along with more troops and supplies, QE2 took onboard copies of the Daily Mirror. David recalls: 'The Mirror carried a story that Argentina was going to sink QE2 on Argentina National Day, which is May 25. It never happened, but two British ships were hit – Atlantic Conveyor and HMS Coventry – whose Captain David Hart Dyke is father of the comedian Miranda Hart.' QE2 set sail from Ascension on May 21 and headed for the abandoned whaling station of Grytviken on South Georgia island, where the Argentine flag had flown a month previously. 'Once we left Ascension, there was this serious mood and we realised that some of them might not be coming back,' saysDavid, who comes from a Southampton seafaring family. Recalling feeling nervous as the ship travelled through treacherous ice fields, he adds: 'The excellent navigators got us through, but it was impossible not to think of the Titanic – both my great uncles fireman William Butt and steward Robert Butt went down with the fated liner in 1912.' 'We arrived at night and awoke the following morning to be greeted by snow-clad mountains of South Georgia, and Canberra also anchored there.' Having arrived safely, the 5 Infantry Brigade disembarked to the join the Canberra, Norland and other ships. 'It was an incredibly busy time with tugboats going backwards and forwards, filled with troops and cargo. In his book, Simon Weston remembers shop staff throwing cigarettes into his tugboat as the Welsh Guards disembarked.' QE2 took on board 632 survivors of three sunken warships – Antelope, Coventry and Ardent. 'Every single one of those men had had a ship blown out from under them and lost dear friends, and the mood back was very different,' says David. 'Again, there was a non-fraternisation rule, but stewards visited the injured, mended their clothes, talked with them and washed their hair.' 'We sailed quickly from South Georgia because we still faced dangers – from the ice and aerial attack, and the Argentinian submarine Santa Fe, which if it had not been scuttled by HSM Antrim would have been waiting for us.' This time, QE2 sailed for home at a more sedate pace, arriving into Southampton on June 11, 1982. 'It was a bright sunny day and one I will never forget,' remembers David. 'We were greeted with a 21-gun salute from HMS Londonderry, and we lined up on deck as we sailed past the Royal Yacht Britannia and the Queen Mother waved at us. 'Then we then turned to port, and we were greeted by the sight of small craft everywhere, a Harrier aircraft twisted above us in a victory role, fire tugs spurting water into the air, a Marine band playing, school children waving, and families everywhere. My mum was there on the quayside waiting for me.' QE2 was officially retired in 2008, but her most important service to her country helped shorten the 72-day conflict and saved many lives. • The QE2 in the Falklands War: Troopship to the South Atlanticby Commodore Ronald Warwick and Professor David Humphreys is published by History Press, price £25.
