Governor of the Falkland Islands who was praised for his defiance and sang-froid during the Argentine invasion in 1982
As the governor and commander-in-chief of a remote South Atlantic archipelago regarded by the British Government of the 1980s as being of no discernible strategic importance, Rex Hunt might well have ended his diplomatic career in obscurity, had it not been for the ambition of an Argentine military junta to achieve a spectacular coup de main in the Falkland Islands to offset its deep unpopularity at home.
As it was, when Hunt had been appointed to his post in 1980, it was generally accepted that his task was seen by the Foreign Office in London as being to “soften up” the islands’ 1,800 inhabitants to the idea that British sovereignty could not be taken as a given in perpetuity. The Government of Margaret Thatcher had given many indications that it was not interested in the islands or the region in general, and the announcement by the Government of the withdrawal of the small ice patrol ship HMS Endurance gave a clear signal to Argentina that a British will to bear what it thought of as this costly burden, was now very weak. The Argentine junta led by General Leopoldo Galtieri knew that a military solution to the country’s age-old claim on the Malvinas, as its people style the Falklands, would play well even with a population that had suffered such economic hardship and been so cruelly oppressed for so long.
Although tensions had been rising for some months, the first intimation Hunt had of the full and final consequences of British Government indifference was his receipt at 3.30pm on April 1, 1982, of a Foreign Office secret telegram which informed him: “We have apparently reliable evidence that an Argentine task force could be assembling off Stanley at dawn tomorrow. You will wish to make your dispositions accordingly.” Hunt was subsequently to recall: “My assistant remarked ‘Well they might have said goodbye and the best of British’.”
Hunt immediately called a conference to instruct civil officials to destroy certain documents, and to discuss what ought to be done about the 40 or so Argentinians in Stanley. He then went down to the radio station to tell his people that an Argentine invasion was expected and to declare a state of emergency. Serving and past members of the Local Defence Force — 23 in all — were called up, and others declared themselves ready for service.
The regular forces that the grandiosely entitled “commander-in-chief” had at his disposal for the defence of this British outpost amounted to 66 marines and their two officers, and two officers and nine men of the Endurance who had been disembarked from the patrol ship earlier and were at Government House in Port Stanley writing up their season’s survey notes.
The invasion force consisted of several thousand men in all, including marine commandos, marine infantry, regular infantry and engineers, possessing armoured fighting vehicles, artillery and heavy weapons, and backed by aircraft and ships. The first landings were made in the small hours of April 2 and were resisted with great courage by the tiny defending force under the command of Major Mike Norman, Royal Marines.
Though of course the Marines did the fighting, the next few hours made Hunt’s name as he came to embody British sang-froid in (honourable) defeat. The defence of Government House was a most spirited affair, inflicting casualties on the overwhelming numbers of attackers and repelling early attacks. Finally, after more than three hours of fighting, with Major Norman informing Hunt that the place could not be held indefinitely, at 9.25am the Governor ordered the Marines to cease firing and lay down their arms. The word “surrender” was not used by Hunt.
At half past midday Hunt, in full gubernatorial regalia including his plumed hat, went down to the Stanley town hall to meet the Argentine general commanding the invasion. When this officer rebuked him for not shaking hands Hunt replied: “You have landed unlawfully on British territory and I order you to remove yourself and your troops forthwith.” It was not of course to be at that time, and by 4.30pm it was Hunt and his staff who were put on a plane to Montevideo in Uruguay. The British troops and sailors became prisoners of war, later to be repatriated.
Hunt was not to be back until after the expulsion of the invaders by British military action which went on until June 14. In the meantime he had become a hero with the British public as his accounts of resistance and, after the ceasefire, defiance to the invaders, were reported and circulated. When Hunt returned to the Falklands where he was to serve for several more years, in an atmosphere in which the Government was compelled to adopt very different feelings about the Falklands, it was to emotional scenes from the population.
Rex Masterman Hunt was born in 1926, the son of H. W. Hunt and Ivy Masterman, and educated at Coatham School, Redcar, and St Peter’s College, Oxford. Called up in 1944, he served in the RAF as a fighter pilot in India and Germany, flying successively Spitfires, Hawker Tempests and De Havilland Vampires. He was demobilised as a flight lieutenant and went on to the Reserve of Air Force Officers.
In 1951 he began a career in the Overseas Civil Service. In 1962 he was a District Commissioner in Uganda, and after a year, 1963-64, at the Commonwealth Relations Office went as First Secretary to Kuching, Sarawak, 1964-65. Subsequent appointments included First Secretary and Head of Chancery in Jakarta, and Counsellor in Saigon from 1974 to 1975. There he was on the last aircraft (fixed wing as opposed to helicopter) to leave Tan Son Nhut Airport before it came under North Vietnamese fire.
Deputy High Commissioner in Kuala Lumpur, 1977-79, was his last appointment before the Falklands posting which, soon after arriving, he approached in a spirit of determination to listen to the islanders’ point of view. As well as representing Whitehall’s interests he was also head of the Falklands Government and was conscious that he must abide by its decisions and policies. In his first dispatch to the FO he said: “There is no way we will convince these islanders that they will be better off as part of Argentina.”
After the defeat of the Argentinians there was no question of such a proposition being aired again. Hunt flew back to the Falklands in an RAF Hercules to be Civil Commissioner, not Governor, working alongside a Military Commissioner, though the title of Governor was restored under a new constitution a fortnight before he retired, a year early. Until then he also remained High Commissioner, British Antarctic Territory, a post he had held in tandem with the governorship.
There were moves in the Foreign and Commonwealth Office to cause him to retire even earlier. But with Margaret Thatcher’s backing he remained. Her views on the Falklands had changed markedly as a result of her having to send British forces to retake them, a decision that proved massively popular with the British public and was greatly to her benefit at the subsequent general election. From being a strategic backwater the Falklands and its surrounding seas now became a valuable possession, with potentially rich oil, mineral and fish reserves that must be defended at all costs. It was provided not only with a much larger garrison but with an air defence consisting of the latest jets, and a new military runway.
Hunt retired in 1985. He was Honorary Air Commodore of the City of Lincoln Squadron, Royal Auxiliary Air Force, 1987-97, and an Honorary Freeman of the City of London and of Stanley. His book My Falkland Days was published in 1992.
He was appointed CMG in 1980 and was knighted in 1982.
He married in 1951 Mavis Amanda Buckland. They had a son and a daughter.
Sir Rex Hunt, CMG, diplomat, was born on June 29, 1926. He died on November 11, 2012, aged 86
