HEAL NAVY Hospital ships in the South Atlantic
● HMHS Hydra (left) and HMHS Uganda undertake a replenishment at sea with RFA tanker Olmeda in early June 1982
THE PYRAMIDS, camel rides – the very essence of Egypt, and at the heart of the philosophy of educational cruises. Nothing compares to being there to swamp the senses in a new and different culture, stamping strong impressions on the memory. However, more than 1,000 tourists, the vast majority British schoolchildren and their teachers, were glad to be heading back to the comfort of their ship after a long day of heat and dust. As they climbed from their hot coaches, events thousands of miles away were conspiring to curtail their cruise, and their next port of call was not to be the Turkish city of Antalya, but Naples in Italy. On arrival, the passengers were cleared in an hour, and later that day the ship sailed west for Gibraltar, with workmen already aboard to begin effecting a remarkable transformation in the 30-year-old steamship. On April 16, 1982, she entered Gibraltar as the popular educational cruise ship SS Uganda, sporting the white hull and black funnel with two white bands of her original owners, the British India Steam Navigation Company (BI). Three days later she left Number 2 Dry Dock as Her Majesty’s Hospital Ship Uganda, red crosses proclaiming her rights and responsibilities under the Geneva Convention, and her destination was the South Atlantic. Uganda had been launched on the Clyde in January 1952, not long before another Clyde-built ship which was designed to act as a Royal Navy hospital ship if the need arose. As it happened, when that need did arise, the younger ship – HM Yacht Britannia – was judged to be too small for the job. In any case, Britannia burned an uncommon type of fuel oil which would have led to logistical complications, and Uganda had been designed to cope with all weather conditions on her original UK to East Africa passenger/cargo runs, so would certainly manage the worst of the South Atlantic. So in the days following the Argentine invasion of the Falkland Islands on April 2 1982, as Operation Corporate cranked into gear, it was the Uganda, now part of the P&O fleet, which was
requisitioned by the Government. Dockyard workers in Gibraltar pulled out all the stops to kickstart the conversion process, made easier by the dormitory-style accommodation on board. Hundreds of men swarmed on her as soon as Uganda arrived, and the most obvious sign of change was the fitting of a 40-ton helicopter flight deck and link ramp. Uganda’s new paint job presented problems – the Rock was scoured for reserves of red paint to complete the crosses when official supplies ran out. But there was a great deal of work inside which was not so obvious; decks were cut for new access points, pipes routed to allow replenishments at sea, and major pieces of medical equipment, shipped out from Portsmouth by sea, were installed. One aspect which caused concern was the supply of fresh water needed by a hospital – Uganda could carry well over 2,000 tons of water, but that would come nowhere near the amount needed. The solution? Fit her out with desalination plants – but just to make it more interesting, the machinery would have to be delivered to her and fitted at sea. Naval Party 1830, the surgical support teams earmarked to meet every medical eventuality in a war, was flown out by Hercules the day before the ship reached Gibraltar. Senior Naval Officer was Cdr Andrew Gough, who brought communicators and flight deck crew with him, while Surg Capt Andrew Rintoul, the Medical Officer in Charge, had the task of creating a floating hospital. The students’ common room in Uganda became the main ward, the Verandah housed the operating theatre suite, the shop became an X-ray department (film developing was done in the hair salon), the cocktail bar turned into a pathology laboratory (with drinks cabinets proving ideal blood storage space), while the intensive therapy unit was built in the Smoking Room. Also joining in Gib were almost two dozen young Royal Marines bandsmen from Portsmouth, who not only carried out the vital tasks of medical orderlies and stretcher bearers, but also provided music to support morale. Just 65 hours were needed to transform Uganda, and with stores in place she sailed officially as an
HMHS, unofficially as a NOSH – Naval Ocean-going Surgical Hospital. Among the other components of the Task Force converging on the Falklands were fellow BI Line veterans – the Knights of the Round Table class, including Sir Galahad and Sir Tristram, had been managed by the shipping line when they were first built for the Army in the 1960s. On the voyage south the tempo of preparatory work continued unabated, with the first replenishment at sea (RAS) carried out within hours of her departure and a helicopter testing
the new ‘flight deck’. Stores were unpacked and shortfalls made good by ordering items from the UK, to be picked up at Ascension Island. Lectures on casualty treatment were attended by both RN and P&O staff, keen to help where they could. The ship’s first medical emergency involved her captain, Brian Biddick, a BI Line veteran, who was taken seriously ill shortly after sailing. An emergency operation was carried out in the ship’s own sick bay, then Uganda diverted to Sierra Leone to allow him to be airlifted back to the UK.
Less than three weeks later – on the day Uganda received her first casualties in the Falklands – the crew was told that he had died. Despite the hard work, there were advantages to sailing in a converted liner; the ship’s pools proved popular as the weather became warmer. Uganda arrived off Ascension on April 28, where she topped up supplies, and continued south again on May 1, the mood quickly turning more sombre as the days following departure brought news of the sinking of the General Belgrano and HMS Sheffield. The latter prompted Uganda to steam at her best speed to the Falklands, some 1,000 miles distant, and staff on board prepared an intensive care burns unit in the liner’s hot, humid sick bay. On arrival in the South Atlantic the ship was pitched straight into the maelstrom. She received her first patients on May 12, from HMS Sheffield. She was soon operating just off the coast, as original plans to remain far outside the 200-
mile Total Exclusion Zone (TEZ) were quickly abandoned, partly because the dangers of transferring casualties from ship to ship in rough seas were judged too great. Uganda subsequently spent a considerable amount of her time close to the life-and-death struggles of San Carlos Water. Within days of arrival Uganda was given authority to co-ordinate the movement of all seven hospital ships, both British and Argentinian. Converted RN survey ships Hecla, Herald and Hydra acted as seaborne ‘ambulances’ while the Argentinians deployed the Bahia Paraiso, Almirante Irizar and the Puerto Deseado. Uganda also hosted a party of humanitarian officials from the International Committee of the Red Cross. For many on board Uganda, receiving the Sheffield victims on board – they had waited patiently in HMS Hermes’ sick bay for a week – was their first sight of seriously-burned flesh. (Continued on page II)
● QARNNS nurses on board SS Uganda