Malvinas: GC-83 Río Iguazú, the Cutter that did not Surrender

GC-83 Río Iguazú: The Cutter that did not Surrender

The icy winds of the South Atlantic cut like blades against the skin of those brave sailors aboard the Río Iguazú. They were not on a warship. They had no armor, no firepower comparable to that of a destroyer, no speed to match that of a frigate. They were men of the Argentine Coast Guard, servants of the sea, embarked on a mission that, unbeknownst to them, would turn them into legends.

Since their arrival at Puerto Argentino (previously Stanley) on April 13, 1982, the GC-83 Río Iguazú had eluded the invisible threat of British nuclear submarines. A small, agile vessel designed for coastal patrols, it now sailed defiantly in those hostile waters, ready to fulfill its duty. On May 22, with the war already raging and the blood of battle still fresh on the Malvinas soil, it was given a critical mission: to transport two 105mm Oto Melara howitzers from Puerto Argentino to Darwin. These artillery pieces would be vital for the defense of the Argentine troops who, just days later, would fight bravely in Goose Green.

Under the command of Sub-Prefect Eduardo Adolfo Olmedo, the Río Iguazú set sail in the early hours of that fateful day. Fifteen men on board. Fifteen souls devoted to their country. They knew they were sailing in enemy-controlled waters. War offered no mercy, and neither would their adversaries. At 08:20, the ship’s radio crackled to life, delivering a chilling message: Red Alert!

The attack came instantly. Two British Sea Harrier jets swooped down from the gray sky, their roar shaking the very air. The men on deck barely had time to react before a storm of fire rained down upon them. The 30mm cannons ripped through the ship’s hull, destroying navigation equipment and sowing chaos aboard. In the engine room, Second Corporal José Raúl Ibáñez fought desperately against the flooding that threatened to doom the vessel. But the damage was beyond repair—the water was rising fast.

On deck, resistance had a name and a face. Julio Omar Benítez, the youngest crew member, manned one of the ship’s two 12.7mm machine guns, the only defense against the enemy aircraft circling above like hawks. But fate was merciless. A British volley struck him down where he stood. His body collapsed beside the weapon he had so valiantly fired. Nearby, Juan José Baccaro and Second Corporal Bengochea lay wounded, their blood soaking the deck.

The Río Iguazú was critically damaged, but it would not surrender. Olmedo, his resolve unshaken, ordered a desperate maneuver—set course for the nearest islet, zigzagging to evade another deadly pass from the Harriers. Every second counted.

And then, Ibáñez, his heart pounding with rage and grief, made a decision that would change everything. Leaving the flooded engine room, he climbed to the deck and rushed toward the unmanned machine gun. With swift hands, he pulled his fallen comrade’s body aside and gripped the weapon. His eyes locked onto the sky.

A Harrier was lining up for the final strike. Ibáñez held his breath. He squeezed the trigger. A hail of bullets erupted, tracing a path of fire through the air. The aircraft, caught in the storm of gunfire, began spewing thick black smoke. For a brief, eternal moment, it seemed to hover in midair, before gravity took its toll—it plunged into the sea, vanishing beneath the icy waves.

The surviving Harrier pilot, seeing the fate of his wingman, turned away and disappeared over the horizon.

The battle was over. The humble patrol boat had struck down a titan.

Severely damaged, the Río Iguazú was deliberately beached on a nearby islet to save the remaining crew. The survivors were later rescued and taken to Darwin, where, on May 24, with full military honors, Julio Omar Benítez was laid to rest. His sacrifice had not been in vain. The artillery pieces that the Río Iguazú had been transporting were salvaged and flown to Darwin, where they would play a crucial role in the upcoming battle.

Thus ended the journey of the patrol boat that dared to defy the impossible. It was not a warship. It was not a heavily armed frigate. But it was Argentine. And that was enough to carve its name into history.

Counterinsurgency War: The Attempted Attack on the ARA "Santiago del Estero" Submarine

In 1971, the Argentine flag was hoisted for the first time on the Guppy IA-class submarine USS "Chivo" as it was renamed ARA "Santiago del Estero" for the Argentine Navy.

Operation Corina: The Attempted Sinking of ARA Santiago del Estero.

On March 4, 1973, in a key operation for national security, the Buenos Aires Provincial Police foiled one of the most dangerous subversive conspiracies of the time: the so-called "Operation Corina." The objective of this extremist group, belonging to the Revolutionary Armed Forces (FAR), was to sink the submarine ARA Santiago del Estero at the Mar del Plata Naval Base and carry out coordinated attacks on various strategic points in the city. This attack was part of a broader plan to sow chaos in the country in the days leading up to the general elections on March 11, 1973. However, a meticulous investigation and swift police action dismantled the terrorist cell before it could execute its plan.


The GUPPY IA-class submarine S-22 ARA Santiago del Estero, formerly USS Chivo (SS-341), underway. The ARA Santiago del Estero was incorporated into the Argentine Navy and decommissioned in 1981. Nevertheless, it served a wartime role in 1982 during the South Atlantic Conflict, being used as a decoy when it was secretly towed out of the Mar del Plata Naval Base and hidden to create confusion among the enemy, making them believe the submarine was operating in the open sea.

The raid that dismantled the operation took place in a chalet at the corner of Matías Strobel and Blas Parera, in the heart of Parque Luro. There, officers from Regional Unit IV arrested eight FAR members, a group that, despite portraying itself as a defender of the proletariat, was mostly composed of individuals from wealthy families, with university backgrounds and no real connection to the working class. Among the detainees were Jesús María Aguinagale, Daniel Roque Armengol, Osvaldo Alfredo Lenti, María Cristina Bonfiglio de Armengol, and Beatriz Mariana Quiroga de Porfirio, among others. A significant arsenal was seized at the scene, including UZI submachine guns, Browning pistols, Rubí .32 caliber revolvers, sawed-off shotguns, and large quantities of ammunition and explosives. Many of these weapons had been stolen in previous bank robberies and attacks on police facilities, demonstrating the high level of organization within the group.

But the most revealing discovery was the documentation found inside the chalet. Sketches, maps, and blueprints detailed the operation’s targets with precision, including the Mar del Plata Naval Base, the port, and YPF’s fuel depots. Other secondary targets were also identified, such as the 1st Police Station of Necochea, which they planned to seize to obtain police weaponry. The plan was to carry out these attacks simultaneously on March 11, coinciding with the national elections, with the aim of triggering a security crisis and undermining the country’s stability.

In today’s Argentina, the same terrorists whom the government, the judiciary, and the media have turned into "victims," honoring them with monuments and official recognition, were responsible for the murder of Dora Elcira Cucco de Araya. Her only "crime" was being at her newspaper stand working that morning of April 10, 1974, in Rosario. On that busy street, she became the victim of a terrorist ambush aimed at assassinating two Argentine Army officers. While her killers were granted compensation, tributes, and state honors, Elcira and her family were condemned to oblivion, ignored to this day.

On April 10, 1972, in Rosario, a group of approximately 15 FAR extremists ambushed and murdered Major General Juan Carlos Sánchez, head of the Argentine Army’s II Army Corps. That same day, the subversive forces also executed Oberdán Sallustro. Among the attackers were some of the militants who, a year later, would be captured in Mar del Plata on March 4, 1973, while planning to attack the Naval Base and sink the S-22 ARA Santa Fe submarine. During the attack on General Sánchez, Army Sergeant Berneche, who was driving the official vehicle, was seriously wounded, and Dora Elcira Cucco de Araya, an innocent civilian who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, was killed.

The attack on ARA Santiago del Estero was the central objective of the operation. Acquired by the Argentine Navy in 1971, the submarine was a Balao-class vessel, modernized with Guppy IA technology to enhance its combat capabilities. Its destruction would have been a devastating blow to the operational capacity of the Argentine fleet in the context of the Cold War, where the country’s Armed Forces played a key role in the hemisphere’s strategic balance. According to the intelligence gathered, three members of the group had received specialized diving training and were planning to place an explosive charge beneath the submarine’s hull. For months, they had conducted night drills in nearby waters, practicing approach maneuvers with inflatable boats and studying the naval guards’ movements.

The police operation led to the arrest of one of the divers involved in the incursion, Alfredo Ruscio, who confessed that the cell was fully prepared to act and was merely awaiting orders from their superiors. This statement triggered an emergency protocol in Mar del Plata. Security was reinforced at the Naval Base, the port, police stations, and other strategic locations, including the Mar del Plata Golf Club, which had been identified in the seized documents as a potential secondary target. Authorities intensified controls throughout the city, aware that part of the group remained at large and could attempt further attacks.

Thanks to these preventive measures, the attack was completely thwarted. The capture of the group and the confiscation of their weapons and explosives prevented the operation from proceeding, averting what could have been one of the most devastating assaults on the country's military infrastructure. However, the story did not end there.

Just months later, in a decision that exposed the weakness of the state in the face of the terrorist threat, the detainees were released by the government of Héctor Cámpora. This mass pardon, which included hundreds of imprisoned subversive militants, allowed many of them to return to clandestine operations and resume their criminal activities. Several of those involved in “Operation Corina” later participated in further attacks, proving that Argentina’s fight against terrorism was far from over.

The once-glorious Buenos Aires Provincial Police, relentless against the Castro-Guevarist terrorist enemy of the Argentine Nation, has since been corrupted, degraded, disarmed, dismantled, and undermined by Argentine politicians from 1983 to the present through their ideological revenge. It has been reduced to a lifeless security agency, barely capable of serving political demagoguery. However, this does not apply to the vast majority of its members, who still stand strong in defense of the nation, putting their lives on the line against crime every day.

The context in which this terrorist plot was conceived cannot be understood without analyzing the global landscape of the time. During the 1970s, Argentina became a key battleground in the Cold War, with revolutionary groups supported by communist powers and a state that often wavered between repression and permissiveness. Declassified documents years later confirmed that organizations such as FAR and Montoneros operated with funding and training from Cuba, Czechoslovakia, and the Soviet Union. Their goal was not merely to fight the government in power but to establish a revolutionary regime through violence and the destruction of republican institutions.

Operation Manuel in the Czechoslovak Service

Copy of the March 1967 report from StB Intelligence (Státní bezpečnost: State Security) of Czechoslovakia A-00921/10-67, written three years after the launch of "Operation Manuel" as an assessment by the First Administration, with a copy sent to the Central Committee of the Communist Party of Czechoslovakia, Eighth Department. The report details the objectives and scope of the operation, including the destruction of all nationalist and democratic movements in Latin America through institutional destabilization, particularly targeting the Armed Forces and Security Forces. It also outlines the recruitment, training, and equipping of subversive agents, their command structure, and financial support.

Additionally, more than 10,000 similar documents have been declassified by the Czech Republic, which acted as an operational intermediary between the USSR and Cuba, from where terrorist operations in Argentina were coordinated. These documents undeniably prove that Argentina was subversively and genocidally attacked by agents of a global superpower and several other nations.

Transcription in Czech

Zpráva 27.10.1966

Akce MANUEL – perspektiva.

V průběhu svého pobytu v Francii SVISTO hovořil v tom smyslu, že nadále bude při vysílání lidí do LA dbát především na kvalitu. Z jeho vysvětlení vyplývá, že ztráta osob, vyslaných v rámci akce MANUEL, bude klesat a navrhl, že v současné a další práci (vyladit po sřízení technické součásti) na přípravu tematické zprávy slova smyslu.

Pokud se týká akce MANUEL, chceme tuto i nadále realizovat co nejlépe v souladu s připomínkami (k časovým) k technice hlášení přechodů a ke kategorii „Mastníků akce“, která se mění na rezidenturu krátkého setonu telegramem č. …, což bylo rozváděné s kádrem jednajícím RICHARD, jenž projevil pro tyto přecházející plně pochopení. Jako pochopitelně všem těm, dočasně termíny hlášení přechodu, za níž se mají i lo. odbor, že v rámci sotva politicky dojdete. Byl v řádu byl dobré vztah ze strany rezidentury na dodržování těchto termínů alespoň u těch nejdůležitějších případů, kteří jsou z hlediska majitelůvání technické dokumentace a tím v Maďarsku poměrně komplikovanější než je normální přechod.

Souvislosti se skora uvedeným prohlášením JURA 1 v souvislosti – podobnými zprávami z rezidentury na další perspektivu hlášení přechodu, které jsme formě pochopitelně, že hlášení přechodu vůbec důležitá násobně přihlášeného počtu osob, které snad obětují několik půl roku nebo 1 roku přejdou Francii a jejich zprávy bude třeba zajistit vratné jako u jako deset.

Závěrem, bude tuto otázku při nejbližší vhodné příležitosti zjemnit, bude o tom především informován, a to hlásit hlavní závady plánů i potřeb technického zabezpečení a pak hlásit na příslušnou akci v centrále a v určitka orgánech.

Translation to English:

Report 27.10.1966

Operation MANUEL – Perspective.

During his stay in France, SVISTO stated that, in the future, when sending people to LA (Latin America), special attention would be given to quality. From his explanation, it follows that the loss of individuals sent under Operation MANUEL will decrease, and he proposed that, in both current and future work (after fine-tuning the technical component), a thematic report be prepared for this purpose.

Regarding Operation MANUEL, we intend to continue executing it in the best possible way, in accordance with the comments on the timing and technique of crossing reports, as well as with the category of "Operation Mastníků," which is being modified in the residency through a short telegram No. …, a matter that was discussed with agent RICHARD, who expressed full understanding for these crossings. As is clear to all involved, the temporary crossing reporting deadlines must be coordinated with the relevant department, as political conditions will barely allow for any progress. There was good cooperation from the residency in adhering to these deadlines, at least in the most crucial cases, which, from the perspective of technical documentation management in Hungary, are considerably more complicated than a normal crossing.

In connection with the recent declaration by JURA 1 and similar reports from the residency on the future perspective of crossing reports, it is evident that the importance of these reports increases proportionally with the number of registered individuals. It is estimated that some of these individuals will be able to cross into France within a period of six months to a year, and it will be necessary to ensure their reporting in a manner similar to previous cases.

In conclusion, this issue will be clarified at the earliest appropriate opportunity. The main objective will be to report on the major planning issues and technical support needs and subsequently report the corresponding action to headquarters and the responsible authorities.

Operation Corina

The case of Operation Corina is merely a reflection of the undeclared war that was being waged in Argentina at the time. The struggle between state forces and armed organizations intensified over time, leading to a spiral of violence that left thousands dead and disappeared. The release of those responsible for this failed attack was not only an act of impunity but also set a dangerous precedent that weakened the country's ability to confront the terrorist threat.

At Dock No. 2 of the Puerto Belgrano Naval Arsenal—the largest dry dock in all of Latin America—we observed the presence of the Argentine Navy’s Guppy-class submarines, ARA *Santiago del Estero* and ARA *Santa Fe*, both undergoing maintenance.  

As the 1970s progressed, attacks on military and civilian targets became increasingly frequent. Kidnappings, assassinations, and bombings dominated the country’s agenda, creating a climate of insecurity that led to stricter security policies and open confrontation between the State and insurgent organizations. By 1976, Argentina would enter a new phase, where the fight against subversion would be led by the Armed Forces in a conflict that would forever change the country's history.

Today, the failed attempt to sink the ARA Santiago del Estero remains a symbol of a time when the nation was torn between order and chaos, between democracy and political violence. The story of Operation Corina is not only a reminder of the danger posed by these extremist groups but also a warning about the consequences of impunity and the lack of a clear policy to combat terrorism.

The submarine Santiago del Estero enters the Naval Base. In the background, the facilities of the Mar del Plata Golf Club can be seen—both were targets of the genocidal Castro-Guevarist organization FAR (Revolutionary Armed Forces) in March 1973. (Photo from La Nación newspaper.)

Many questions remain unanswered. To what extent did the political decisions of that era contribute to prolonging the conflict? What role did foreign interests play in the radicalization of armed groups? Has Argentina learned from its past, or is it still repeating the same mistakes?

What is certain is that, five decades later, the scars of that struggle remain in the country's memory. Operation Corina was just one of many episodes in an internal war that left an indelible mark on Argentine history, a legacy that continues to spark debate today.

The Attack on ARA Santísima Trinidad

The ARA Santiago del Estero submarine was the first strategic target of extremist forces, preceding the ARA Santísima Trinidad destroyer. However, in 1973, the Buenos Aires Provincial Police successfully prevented that attack. The destroyer D-2 ARA Santísima Trinidad, commissioned in 1969 by the Argentine Navy and AFNE for construction in Argentina, was the most advanced warship of its kind at the time. At a moment when few believed Argentina could achieve such a technological leap, the country became the first in Latin America to build a missile-launching, helicopter-carrying warship.



Built between 1972 and 1977, the ship's completion was delayed by a Castro-Guevarist terrorist attack. While it was in its final assembly stages, a sabotage operation severely damaged it and partially sank it in 1975. On August 22, 1975, Montonero terrorists attempted to destroy the ARA Santísima Trinidad. Although they failed to do so by force at the time, they ultimately succeeded 28 years later by infiltrating Argentina's political sphere under the guise of Peronism. Additionally, an Argentine Navy officer involved in the project, Commander Bigliardi, was assassinated by the same extremist organization that sought to prevent the project from ever coming to fruition.



Despite these setbacks, the destroyer officially entered service in 1977, just in time to participate in naval operations during the near-war conflict with Chile in 1978. In 1982, the ARA Santísima Trinidad served as the flagship of the Argentine Navy during "Operation Rosario," the mission to reclaim the Malvinas Islands. Throughout the conflict, it also acted as an escort vessel for the ARA 25 de Mayo aircraft carrier, which, on May 1–2, 1982, pursued the British Task Force, forcing it to evade combat. The destroyer continued patrolling the Argentine Sea throughout the war, prepared for a planned Argentine naval counteroffensive in late June or early July—an operation that never materialized due to the fall of Puerto Argentino and the subsequent overthrow of President Leopoldo Fortunato Galtieri.



The vessel remained operational until 1987, when maintenance difficulties arose due to its British origin and the arms embargo imposed on Argentina. As a result, some of its components were cannibalized to provide spare parts for its sister ship, the ARA Hércules. Decommissioned and placed in reserve, the destroyer awaited a modernization and reactivation that never came.

Ironically, in the early 2000s, when members of the same Castro-Guevarist terrorist organization that had tried and failed to destroy the ship in the 1970s gained control of the Ministry of Defense, they finally succeeded—not through sabotage, but through deliberate political neglect. The destroyer, which neither Cold War subversion nor one of the world’s most powerful navies could sink in open war, was ultimately destroyed by Argentine politicians—former members of the very terrorist group that had once fought against it.

Malvinas: Blood Over The Murrell River

Blood on the Murrell River: The Commandos Who Fought in the "Death Zone" and Escaped an Ambush

"They're going to kill us all," muttered the Army and Gendarmerie men as they faced off against British paratroopers in the Falklands. They were trapped in the strip of land where a soldier’s chances of survival are nearly nonexistent—but they fought back. The bullets shattering the rocks, the shrapnel that tore into them, and how they ultimately forced the British to retreat when all seemed lost.
Nicolás Kasanzew || Infobae




Captain Figueroa (center), Lieutenant Anadón (right) y First Lieutenant García Pinasco (back), planifying the mission, June 6th, 1982 (Photo: Nicolás Kasanzew)


Through freezing cold and sleet, they navigated a sector battered by naval gunfire and riddled with their own minefields. Leading them was Lieutenant Marcelo Anadón, who knew the terrain well. Advancing cautiously along the riverbank, spaced about fifty meters apart, they suddenly found themselves bathed in the glow of a massive, radiant moon.

Sergeant Guillén, scanning the far side of the Murrell, noticed a faint glimmer. At first, he assumed it was just the moonlight reflecting off the water. Only later would he realize—it had been the sheen of a plastic poncho worn by a British soldier.


"They shredded my hood and the back of my jacket, but I kept firing. The medic, Moyano, pulled a bunch of shrapnel out of my arm and back."

As they reached the bridge—a simple wooden structure with no railings—Anadón and his men prepared to cross. That was when the British opened fire.

Figueroa, along with Non-Commissioned Officers Poggi and Tunini, was making his way back from the far side of the river, where they had gone to set up a post-ambush blockade. Just then, an explosion ripped through the air, followed by gunfire. Instinctively, all the commandos flattened themselves against the ground.

The British were about 80 meters away, positioned on a rocky high ground across the river.

"We're exposed. They're going to kill all three of us," Figueroa thought. In trying to set an ambush, they had walked straight into one. Without hesitation, he opened fire toward the flashes of enemy gunfire. His blood felt like it was bubbling in his veins, and his nostrils were flooded with the sharp scent of adrenaline.

The Argentine commandos had landed in what soldiers call the "death zone"—a stretch of battlefield where survival is almost impossible.


Figueroa: "We're Exposed. They're Going to Kill All Three of Us."

The British fired both in single shots and rapid bursts. Figueroa saw streaks of red and orange whipping through the darkness, writhing toward him like demonic ribbons, hunting for his life. They were tracer rounds—illuminated bullets the British loaded every five shots to guide their fire in the night.

"It was the most magnificent sight I’ve ever witnessed in my life," he tells me.

Bullets slammed into the nearby rocks, shattering them into a storm of dust and shrapnel. The acrid scent of gunpowder filled his lungs, leaving him lightheaded, almost intoxicated. The fear of death dulled, swallowed by

• "Captain, I'm hit!"
• "Where did they get you?"
• "In the leg, but I can crawl back."
• "Fall back, we’ll get to you soon."

"I'll help him and pull back with him," Tunini interjected.

The round had pierced Poggi’s calf, passing clean through without hitting bone.

Figueroa kept firing until his rifle jammed. Fortunately, his comrades—especially Sergeant Guillén—were scattered beyond the bridge, taking cover behind the rocks. Their relentless fire on the hill forced the British machine guns and rifles to divide their attention, shifting some of the incoming fire away from Figueroa.

Guillén recalls: "They shredded my hood and the back of my jacket, but I kept firing. The medic, Moyano, pulled a bunch of shrapnel out of my arm and back."

"Cheto" (Handsome) Anadón asked García Pinasco for permission to charge the British, but the section leader held him back, telling him to wait until daylight.

As Figueroa fell back, he heard several explosions—then silence. The British machine guns had gone quiet. It was the fearless Anadón, standard-bearer of Commando 601, who, with deadly precision, had launched FAL-mounted PDF grenades directly into the enemy’s position. Only their riflemen were still firing now.

Once again, "Cheto" Anadón asked García Pinasco for permission to attack. Again, the lieutenant denied him, insisting they wait. But as Figueroa reached their position, he roared, "Let’s go get these bastards!" The adrenaline and fury coursing through him made it impossible to hold back.

Despite his reservations, García Pinasco relented. Figueroa took command, and the unit stormed across the bridge to launch their assault. Anadón quickly organized his men into a staggered formation: Vergara, Suárez, Quinteros, and two gendarmes from the elite Alacrán group—Natalio Figueredo and Miguel Puentes.

A faint light was beginning to creep over the battlefield. The attack was about to begin.

"The objective was to sprint forward, surround them from both sides of the ridge, and wipe them out—leave no one behind," recalls Captain Figueroa.

Once everything was set, he raised his right arm and gave the order: "Charge, damn it! Let’s wipe these bastards out!"

The commandos stormed ahead, firing from the hip in fully automatic bursts, mimicking the cadence of a machine gun. Their shouts and insults tore through the night, meant to unnerve the British troops.

The first to reach the enemy position was the fearless Lieutenant Anadón. But as he scanned the area, he realized the British paratroopers had already fled in haste, dragging their wounded with them.

In their retreat, the enemy had left behind a trove of abandoned equipment—firearms, radios, rucksacks, tents, communication codes, berets, gloves, a camera, and even a small Union Jack. That flag would soon be displayed as a trophy at the Commando 601 headquarters in Puerto Argentino/Stanley.

García Pinasco had been ordered to strike the enemy with a swift raid and set up an ambush.

The sheer speed of the assault forced the British paratroopers into a chaotic retreat. In their haste, they left behind an active radio—still transmitting—used to communicate with their high command. Bloodstains pooled on the ground, grim evidence of their casualties.

Later, the Argentine troops intercepted enemy radio chatter: urgent requests for helicopters to evacuate the wounded. Not long after, about four kilometers away, they spotted a flare piercing the sky—followed by the descent of a Sea King helicopter, marked with the white insignia of a medical evacuation unit.

After the battle, Guillén helped Indio Poggi to his feet. Poggi looked at him and said, "Wash my wound."

Guillén reached into his pack and pulled out a Margaret River triangle-shaped bottle. He raised it to his lips, pretending to take a swig.

"You bastard!" Poggi roared. "Don’t drink my medicine!"

Spoils of Battle: British Paratroopers’ Abandoned Gear – June 7, 1982 (Photo: Nicolás Kasanzew)

Needless to say, the commandos eagerly devoured the gourmet rations abandoned by the men of the 3rd Parachute Battalion—dried apple compote, chocolate, nuts, biscuits, and raisins.

A bitter blow for the Brits; a feast fit for kings for the Argies.

But not all rewards were sweet. The Gendarmerie generously decorated its two men for their role in the battle. The Army, however, completely ignored the commandos of 601—the very unit that had handed them victory at the Murrell River.

Argentine Pilots in Super Etendard

Malvinas: Soldier Horacio Balvidares and the Camaradie of War

Camaraderie and commitment in the fight for Mount Tumbledown

The little-known story of soldier Horacio Balvidares

On the night of June 13, the battle for Tumbledown, an Argentine defensive position in the path of the British advance towards Puerto Argentino, began. It was a battle that both sides remember as very hard, fierce, with a lot of automatic weapons fire and hand-to-hand combat.


View from Mount Tumbledown

The troops of the 5th Marine Infantry Battalion, the 4th Infantry Regiment and the 6th Infantry Regiment gave ample evidence of their determination and bravery in the face of an equally determined and brave enemy. For two days the Army men had been fighting at close range, and under the cover of their own Artillery they tried to recover physically while perfecting their positions.


English drawing about Tumbledown combat

The remnants of Company "B" of the 6th Infantry Regiment were waiting on Wireless Ridge for their turn to engage. They could not determine where the enemy would come from, but the sounds of the increasingly violent fighting made it clear that action would soon begin. They were ordered to block the flank of a Marine section on Tumbledown Mountain and began to advance in the darkness broken by flares.

A soldier is wounded in the legs and Private Adorno bravely goes forward to help him. Before reaching the position he is shot and seriously wounded in the arm, falling onto the rocks.

Private Horacio Balvidares assists him and carries him to the rear, on foot and with his companion on his shoulder, he travels kilometers from Tumbledown to the entrance of the town of Puerto Argentino. There they are met by a nurse who had gone ahead.

After handing over his wounded comrade and despite having reached an area far from the combat, with greater safety, he turned around and began to return to his section's positions, knowing the danger of crossfire and hand-to-hand combat, so it was that while returning he was mortally wounded by an enemy artillery shell.

A brave man who rescues another brave man. A soldier who returns with determination to the place of danger. Soldier Balvidares left an indelible mark among his comrades and saved a life that is still remembered, thanked and paid tribute to.



Brave, generous, good comrades and, above all, respectful of the oath to the flag of their country; that is what our men were like in Malvinas.

Argentine government

Youtuber Visits Old Welsh Town in Argentina's Patagonia

Malvinas: Tumbledown Night

Tumbledown: Blood and Courage

The Battle of Mount Tumbledown: A Nocturnal Clash in the Malvinas War

The Battle of Mount Tumbledown took place on the night of June 13–14, 1982, as part of the British campaign to recapture Puerto Argentino, the capital of the Malvinas Islands. It was a brutal, close-quarters fight in freezing, rugged terrain, pitting the Argentine 5th Marine Infantry Battalion (BIM 5) against a British force comprising the 2nd Battalion Scots Guards, the 1st Battalion 7th Gurkha Rifles, elements of 42 Commando Royal Marines, and supporting units like the Welsh Guards and Blues and Royals. The battle’s savagery stemmed from its nocturnal setting, the rocky landscape, and the desperate stakes for both sides.

The Setting: A Dark, Hostile Landscape

Imagine a moonless night, the Malvinas’ winter wind slicing through the air, temperatures hovering near freezing. Mount Tumbledown, a jagged, 750-foot-high ridge of crags and boulders, looms west of Stanley. Its slopes are slick with wet peat and frost, littered with rocks perfect for defensive positions. The Argentine 5th Marines, under Commander Carlos Robacio, are dug into trenches and sangars (stone shelters), their positions fortified with machine guns, mortars, and snipers. They’re cold-weather trained, hardened, and determined to hold this key height overlooking the capital. On the British side, soldiers huddle in the darkness near Goat Ridge, their breath visible as they prepare for a silent advance, weighed down by packs, rifles, and anti-tank weapons.

The Opening Moves: Diversion and Stealth

Picture the battle starting at 8:30 p.m. local time. A diversionary attack kicks off south of Tumbledown—four light tanks from the Blues and Royals (two Scorpions, two Scimitars) rumble forward, their engines roaring, accompanied by a small Scots Guards detachment. Their muzzle flashes light up the night, drawing Argentine fire. Meanwhile, the main assault begins from the west: three companies of Scots Guards—Left Flank, Right Flank, and G Company—move silently in phases, bayonets fixed, under cover of darkness. Mortar teams from 42 Commando set up behind, ready to rain shells, while naval gunfire from HMS Active’s 4.5-inch gun booms offshore, its explosions illuminating the horizon in brief, eerie flashes.

The Clash: Savage Close-Quarters Fighting

Visualize the moment the Scots Guards hit the Argentine lines. Left Flank Company, leading the assault, creeps undetected to the western slopes—then a Guardsman spots an Argentine sniper. A single shot rings out, followed by a volley of 66mm anti-tank rockets streaking through the dark, their fiery trails briefly exposing the enemy. The Guards charge, machine-gunners and riflemen firing from the hip, a chaotic line of muzzle flashes advancing over open ground. Argentine marines of N Company, entrenched with FAL rifles and MAG machine guns, return fire—tracers arc across the night, ricocheting off rocks. Grenades explode, showering shale and dirt; bayonets clash in brutal hand-to-hand combat. The air fills with shouts, screams, and the metallic clatter of weapons.

Halfway up, Left Flank’s 15 Platoon, under Lieutenant Alasdair Mitchell, takes heavy casualties—two men fall dead, others wounded, their blood staining the rocks. Right Flank Company, under Major John Kiszely, pushes east, meeting fierce resistance from Marine Sub-Lieutenant Carlos Vázquez’s 4th Platoon. Phosphorous grenades burst, casting a ghastly white glow, revealing Argentine defenders fighting from crag to crag. The Scots Guards lose eight dead and 43 wounded in this relentless grind, their red tunics (in spirit, if not literal uniform) soaked in sweat and blood.

The Gurkhas and Mount William: A Parallel Struggle

Now shift your gaze south to Mount William, a sub-hill held by the Argentine O Company. The 1st Battalion 7th Gurkha Rifles, held in reserve initially, moves in after Tumbledown’s summit is secured. Picture Gurkhas in camouflage, kukris gleaming faintly, advancing across a shell-pocked saddle under Argentine mortar fire from Sapper Hill. Eight are wounded as shells burst in the soft peat, muffling some blasts but not the chaos. They take Mount William by 9:00 a.m., their disciplined advance a stark contrast to the earlier melee, yet no less determined. Robacio would say "We're not afraid of them, they fell like flies". They were humans after all.

 

The Welsh Guards and Sapper Hill: Delayed but Deadly

Imagine the Welsh Guards, paired with Royal Marines, stuck in a minefield en route to Sapper Hill. Their frustration mounts as Argentine mortars pound them from above, one man killed earlier on a motorbike dispatch. They’re meant to follow the Gurkhas but are bogged down, their silhouettes barely visible in the pre-dawn murk, cursing the delay as shells whistle overhead.

 

The Argentine Retreat: A Final Stand

See the Argentine 5th Marines’ resolve crack as dawn nears. A sniper—perhaps Private Luis Bordón—fires at a British Scout helicopter evacuating wounded, injuring two Guardsmen before being cut down in a hail of Scots Guards gunfire. By 9:00 a.m., the Scots Guards hold Tumbledown’s eastern high ground, and the Gurkhas secure Mount William. Commander Robacio plans a counterattack from Sapper Hill, but his men—16 dead, 64 wounded—begin a disciplined retreat toward Puerto Argentino, marching in parade order, colors high, defiant even in defeat. Thirty Argentine bodies lie scattered across the battlefield, a testament to the fight’s ferocity. As soon as Robacio arrives, ask the Militar Governor Menéndez to send all of his men to the front. He was disregarded.

The Aftermath: A Hard-Won Victory

Envision the scene at sunrise: British troops, exhausted, consolidate their positions. The Scots Guards’ Pipe Major James Riddell stands atop Tumbledown, his bagpipes wailing “The Crags of Tumbledown Mountain,” a haunting tribute to the fallen. A Volvo BV-202 lies wrecked by a mine, its crew dazed. The British tally: 10 dead (8 Scots Guards, 1 Welsh Guard, 1 Royal Engineer), over 60 wounded. Medals—DSOs, Military Crosses, Distinguished Conduct Medals—will follow, but for now, the survivors catch their breath, the road to Puerto Argentino open at last.