The Falklands war was justified – Iraq wasn’t

Six days before Argentina surrendered, Simon Weston was on board HMS Sir Galahad at Bluff Cove, south of the capital Port Stanley, ready with other troops to land on the Falklands Islands.

When Argentine jets bombed the vessel, which was loaded with fuel and ammunition, he suffered terrible burns.

His injuries were so appalling his own mother couldn’t recognise him when he arrived home.

His face had melted in the searing heat.

As part of the mental healing process, as well as making several trips back to the windswept islands in the South Atlantic, he agreed to meet the Argentine pilot, Lieutenant Carlos Cachon, who had turned his deadly fire on Weston and the British forces.

“In all the nightmares I had about the ship blowing up and the fire and seeing friends die, his eyes were just soulless, they were empty……and I just wanted to put life and put light into those eyes to see what they were,” said Weston, who has become a symbol of the Falklands conflict.

“But until I met him I could not see his eyes.

“He just had a job to do and I’d have probably done the same.

“If you are going to deal with issues, you have to face them head on and that was the biggest one at the time.”

They met for the first time in the Argentine capital Buenos Aires, where the Argentine generals had planned the war, and Weston admits it proved the turning point in his life.

“I didn’t know how I felt when I knew I was going to meet him, there were so many emotions bottled up,” he added.

“Whether to laugh, cry or just punch his lights out. But, on the flip side, he was very courageous to meet me.

“I walked up some stairs, went through the door of a beautiful flat and there he was. But he stole the show and kissed me on both cheeks, which was the last thing I was expecting – a big macho man from the Welsh Valleys being kissed by some stranger. Especially when he had done this.

“When I looked in his eyes I found an admirable man who became my friend and we still keep in touch. Carlos is a kind and gentle man.

“War is a terrible thing.

“You ask totally nice people to do terrible things.”

It is a mistake to think of Weston as simply affable and a compassionate and humble man, which he is. There is a lot more inside.

He gives motivation talks and pushes himself to the limit. He is determined never to waste a moment in memory of his young comrades whose lives ended just days before the Argentines surrendered.

Forty-seven people were killed and 97 injured on that cruel day in the South Atlantic.

“Nobody should have seen what I saw,” he says quietly as we sit in the lounge of a Cardiff hotel.

“We were a sitting duck in that boat. We were completely shot to pieces.

“It was truly horrible to be in that fire.

“No one should have been inside that inferno but we were.

“You didn’t realise how badly injured you were.

“I was like a gorge of people bei