WHEN these men talk about the Falklands War it brings banter, vivid memories – and moments of wrenching pain.

The islands were invaded 30 years ago today but it can seem like yesterday.

The Echo met veterans of the Christchurch branch of the South Atlantic Medal Association to hear about their parts in a conflict that gripped the nation.

Medic David Leeming, 71, from Christchurch, became tense and tearful as he described treating one inj-ured man afterthe bombing of the ship Sir Galahad.

“He was fairly well burned and he just wouldn’t do what he was told,” the former Captain said, as his colleagues listened quietly at The Captains Club.

“In the end I had to put him under, at the instructions of a surgeon, before his mates either kicked him to death or shot him.”

When the war started, just weeks earlier, many servicemen thought the Falk-lands were somewhere north of Scotland.

“I knew they were in the Atlantic but that was about it,” said Peter Bridle, 64, a former Royal Engineer from Creekmoor in Poole.

The journey south was filled with training – the men had little time to think about what was to come.

And the sinking of the Argentine cruiser Belgrano, the first major act of the conflict, was greeted with relief.

Steven Overall, 53, from Broadstone, then a leading seaman on HMS Coventry, said: “We were elated.

“We’d looked at her capabilities and she could outgun us completely in a surface battle.

“We also thought about the guys who didn’t get off her.”

Justlike the public, he was shocked when HMS Sheffield was hit by an Exocet missile on May 4, the first British loss. He could see the smoke rising 20 miles away.

For Bill McAlester, 54, from Christchurch, the war felt personal because the islands had been defended by fellow Royal Marines.

“They’d attacked our Corps and we were going to sort it out.

“Confidence was not an issue for us,” he said.

The British landed at San Carlos and Bill was in the first wave with 40 Comm-ando D-Day-style.

The isolated fleet, 7,000 miles from the UK, became a prime target for waves of low-level bombing raids.

Steven Overall was a radar operator tracking the incoming planes for HMS Coventry.

“It was like training, apart from the whoosh from the missiles,” he said.

His ship was sunk on May 25, the day the Argentines launched a huge assault to mark their national day, but only after it had scored at least three kills.

Steven described how a 1,000lb bomb went off in the computer room, only 8-10 feet from his chair.

He was thrown around and came to with small fires burning in the dark – and severe burns to his hands and face.

The ship was evacuated with the loss of 19 men. He said: “I would say 98 per cent of people were completely calm as we got off.”

On land, the SAS and Poole-based SBS led the advance towards the capital Port Stanley.

Leo Thornley, 67, from Brans-gore, a member of the catering corps, choked up as he remembered meeting SAS survivors of a helicopter that was shot down and hearing friends had been killed.

His own life came under threat when he was attached to the Welsh Guard, in the canteen of the ill-fated Sir Galahad.

The ship was bombed and the men horribly burned.

“I saw the side of the bulkhead open up,” said Leo, “and a sheet of flame went straight down the service hatch. “Within seconds the place was full of smoke.”

Moments earlier, David Leeming had been smoking above, with his second-in-command.

The explosion blew the bulk head door into his colleague – killing him instantly.

The losses did not stop the British advance overland, which also had to contend with freezing wind, boggy ground – and mines.

Bill McAlester’s unit lost two men to the devices and he said: “I will take the scream of one man to my grave.

“One guy had lost his heel and kept trying to help the guy behind. He couldn’t understand why he kept falling over.

“The scream came from the guy behind, who had been flash blinded, and thought he’d lost his eyes.”

His unit supported the attack on Mount Longdon and then attacked Sappers Hill, enduring days of shelling before the Argentine surrender on July 14.

Peter Bridle was moved forward to guard prisoners of war.

He said the Argentine Marines were defiant but the ordinary conscripts were in a bad way, suffering from cold and dysentery.

Thirty years on, the veterans agreed the war had been worthwhile. But for many, the legacy is painful memories, personal battles with problems like alcoholism, and flashbacks that relive the moments all over again.

Bill said: “People say they understand what it must have been like.

“They have got no idea. Every war has its own kind of hell and our hell was unique.”

Liberating islands

THE Falklands War started after months of tension and provocation with the Argentine invasion on April 2, 1982.

The Royal Marines defending the island, the few dozen men of detachment 8,901, had only just arrived after completing training in Poole.

Britain immediately sent a hastily-organised task force on a mission the Americans considered militarily impossible.

The Argentine cruiser HMS Belgrano was torpedoed and sunk on May 2 with the loss of 323 lives.

The British task force headed for San Carlos Bay and endured a ferocious air assault that cost Britain seven ships.

On land, 2 Para won the first major victory with the capture of Goose Green on May 28 and 29.

That freed up the out-numbered British forces to begin a land assault towards the capital Port Stanley.

Special Forces led the way and then there was a series of battles on the final mountain-top defences.

The victories on lonely peaks like Mounts Longdon, Harriet and Tumbledown led to the Argentine surrender on June 14.

The final death toll was 655 Argentines, 255 British and three islanders.