The air in the operations room was stale, recycled. It smelled of sweat, electronics, and coffee. Men tracked blips on radar screens, voices calm and clipped. Coventry and Broadsword were a team, a "missile trap" positioned north of Pebble Island. The plan was simple: be visible. Draw the Argentine Air Force's Skyhawks and Daggers away from the troop transports in San Carlos Water.
The first wave came in the morning. They were driven off. The tension was a physical thing, a tightness behind the eyes. They knew more would come. At just past 4 PM local time, the radar filled. Through the windows, crew on deck saw them: low, fast, skimming the wave-tops. The Sea Dart system on Coventry, designed for high-altitude targets, struggled to lock on. Broadsword's Sea Wolf system, perfect for this, was momentarily blinded by its own gunfire.
The sound of the first bomb was not an explosion but a deep, metallic groan from deep within the ship. The second hit seconds later. Lights failed. The ship listed violently, immediately. The order to abandon ship came within minutes. Men slid down the steepening hull into the frigated South Atlantic. In twenty minutes, she was gone. Nineteen men died with her. The trap had sprung, and the bait was taken.