Incredible story of the Falklands War hospital that treated victims from both side of conflict

There was no question Surgeon-Captain Rick Jolly deserved it when the Queen presented him with an OBE.
In the Falklands War he ran the Ajax Bay Field Hospital, saving British ­soldiers’ lives, often under enemy fire.
But just years after being decorated in Britain, Dr Jolly was handed the equivalent honour in Argentina… for saving the lives of their soldiers too.
As the war raged Dr Jolly’s makeshift hospital in the frontline offered exactly the same level of care to both sides.
Now a week before the 30th ­anniversary of the start of the war, Dr Jolly’s amazing story of bravery and compassion can be told for the first time.
“Our attitude was simple…to treat the injured Argentinians in a way we would like to be treated,” says Dr Jolly, who insists he was only doing his duty.
“Before the battle of Trafalgar Nelson wrote a prayer in his cabin, saying: ‘May humanity after victory be the ­predominant feature in the British Fleet.’ As a naval officer those words meant a lot to me so looking after the enemy’s wounded as though they were your own was instinctive.
“People assume you’ve got to hate your enemy but that couldn’t be further from the truth. The only people who know what you’re going through are the people on the other side.
 

Rex

ATTENTION
“Over the years I’ve been asked what I’d do if I had to choose who to treat first, an Argentinian or a Brit. My answer was always whoever needed attention more urgently. As far as I am concerned you have to be able to look into your soul and like what you find there.”
Dr Jolly, the hospital’s senior medical officer, insisted that all his men follow his example. And they were happy to do so, treating the wounded enemy with complete respect as the conflict raged across the Falklands in South Georgia, Goose Green and Port Stanley.
But it still took a while for ­Argentinian patients to realise they were in safe hands in the Ajax Field hospital.
“A lot of the Argentinian conscripts were very scared and ­suspicious when they came to us,” he says. “They had been fed this vile ­propaganda about the way we treated prisoners of war. Some had even been told the British ate their prisoners!
“They used to make the sign of the cross prior to an operation and they would be very relieved when they woke up after ­surgery and found all their body parts were still intact.
“It was only then that they realised that what they’d been told about the British was all lies.”
 

PA

Dr Jolly’s favourite patient was a ­ ­terrified fighter pilot, rescued from the freezing waters of the South Atlantic. “His name was Ricardo Lucero,” says Dr Jolly. “He was coming in to attack one of our ships when he got a missile right up his tail pipe. He ejected at the last minute, badly broke his knee and was fished out of the water.
“When he came to us I said to him,‘Welcome, you’re a pilot, I’m an aviation doctor and we admire you. You’ve got this broken knee and we are going to try to mend it.’
“I told him I would send a message to his wife in Cordoba to let her know he was OK and he thanked me. “During his treatment I made a bet with him that he would never fly again but he proved me wrong. Yet it was very sad when I heard he’d died three years ago after a midair collision.”
The Ajax Bay Field Hospital was set up a few days into the war. Initially it was on a ship out to sea, but Dr Jolly wanted to be nearer to the wounded.
Within 24 hours his team turned a disused farm outhouse into a fully functioning, if incredibly basic, hospital. ­During the three-and-a-half week ­conflict 580 casualties were treated and not a single one died at the hospital
That achievement was even more unbelievable as the hospital was under constant threat from Argentinian ­bombers and fighter jets.
 

Hospitals usually had red crosses painted on their roofs to identify them to enemy planes.
But because his hospital was next to ammunition dumps, which were ­legitimate targets, Dr Jolly insisted it was “not cricket” for them to be ­protected, so the cross was left off. And at the height of the battle of Goose Green four bombs were dropped in the area, killing five people as the hospital was swamped with severely injured soldiers.
Two of the bombs actually got stuck in the ­hospital roof, but failed to ­detonate. Yet Dr Jolly and his team continued to operate despite fears that they could have gone off at any moment.
“Ironically their pilot Ricardo Lucero was in the hospital on a stretcher at the time,” says Dr Jolly. “My men showed incredible bravey when the aircraft came into attack. They’d lean over and cover the patient they were working on with their own body until the raid passed and then get back to work.
“We realised the bombs in the roof were on timers and could go off at any moment. We worked out the maximum timer was 37 hours, so I said let’s withdraw, sandbag the bombs and get on with our jobs.
“Then the casualties from Goose Green started streaming in. We treated 47 casualties, some with terrible injuries, but they all survived. After most had been treated I said, ‘By the way, we’ve got two unexploded bombs in the back. They could be on 37-hour timers, but we’re on 46 hours now so we’re all right’. Everybody roared with laughter.”
Now an incredible TV documentary has been made to commemorate the actions of Dr Jolly and his men, called Falklands Combat Medics. Dr Jolly is delighted their bravery has finally been recognised properly. “What we went through was ­extremely demanding. We endured ­because of the affection we had for the guys on the frontline.
“Anyone who says they weren’t scared was lying, but we were needed and there was no way we were going to let anyone down.
“I said to the boys at the start that we are here for one thing only, to make sure anyone who comes to us with an injury leaves us alive. The rest is irrelevant. We certainly achieved that.”
 

Dr Jolly, 66, who is now retired and lives in Plymouth, was awarded the OBE in the months following the war. But his more surprising honour came in 1999 on a trip to Argentina with someone he considers a friend, Prince Charles.
“Before the trip I wrote ahead to the Argentinian authorities saying we’d operated on just under 80 of their men and asking what became of them.
“Then when I got there I walked into this room full of all these familiar faces. It was all the people we’d treated.
“I was presented with the Order of May, their equivalent to the OBE. I ­accepted it on behalf of the work of all my medics.”
At the time Dr Jolly felt the gesture proved that the Falklands dispute was over. So he has been annoyed by ­Argentina’s new claims to the islands.
“I think someone should quietly say to them, ‘You said in 1982, let’s settle this once and for all, and you lost. You can’t then say it doesn’t count. We’re not going to accept it, so go and take a running jump and grow up’.”
Falklands Combat Medics is on Military History on Sunday April 1 at 8pm.
 
Credit Source:
 
Will Payne is the Sunday Mirror’s TV editor.
Andrew Dagnell