The Counterattack of the "3 de Oro" (Golden 3) (Part 1)
By Lt. Col. (R) (Malvinas War Veteran) Víctor Hugo Rodríguez
The author served in the Malvinas as a First Lieutenant, Chief of the 1st Section of Company "A" of the 3rd Mechanized Infantry Regiment "Gral. Belgrano," nicknamed "3 de Oro" (Golden 3) during the Triple Alliance War, due to the yellow breastplate that adorned their blue jackets.
June 13, 1982, 22:00 hours — Tumbledown Hill, overlooking Moody Brook Valley. To the left was Longdon; in front, the 7th Infantry Regiment of La Plata was enduring relentless fire for two days, June 11th and 12th. It was hell. Positioned 100 meters above them and 5 kilometers away, we witnessed how the British enemy left no centimeter unscathed by naval, artillery, and mortar fire. It was clear they were preparing an assault on the regiment's heights. Occasionally, they turned their attention to us, a forewarning of their advance towards Tumbledown.
Below Longdon, Captain Soloaga—a war hero who carried his Sanmartinian values into peace—"clung like an oyster" to the rocks. His men were already fighting, enduring an infernal bombardment day and night. From our vantage point, we watched, both awestruck and helpless, as their resilience unfolded. Occasionally, patrols emerged—but only to retrieve their fallen and place them in an abandoned ambulance stuck in the valley's mud before returning to combat. Watching them march back into that artillery barrage was profoundly moving. At 22:00 hours on June 13th, Captain Zunino, commander of Company A "Tacuarí" of the "3 de Oro," summoned us. A remarkable officer for wartime, Zunino convened 2nd Lt. Dobrovevic (support group leader), 2nd Lt. Mones Ruiz (2nd rifle section), Sub-Lt. Aristegui (3rd section leader), and me (1st section leader).
“We need to support the 7th Regiment, which is under attack on those heights,” he said.”.
We knew the terrain only by sight—no reconnaissance had been done. The day before, we had deployed to Tumbledown, abandoning previous positions. Defending our spot against the expected assault the next day was our sole focus. Our positions consisted of low rocks; our aluminum screw-shovel “Tempex” tools had broken within a week, unable to withstand the greda soil. Digging foxholes was impossible. Equipment? Just a blanket, a shared tent cloth, and only five magazines per soldier. Night vision? Only the captain had one. Radios? None. Batteries were dead, leaving us with no communication within or outside the company. To supplement ammo, I ordered rounds carried in socks tied around our necks.
Aristegui, a 4th-year cadet serving as a "commissioned sub-lieutenant" in the Malvinas, was barely older than his soldiers. Yet, he was an example of leadership. I said,
“Aristegui, form up. You take the right, and I'll take the left. Let's cross the valley quickly and head for the heights.”.
The battlefield was chaos—roaring, blazing, hellish. Longdon, the valley, Wireless Ridge where the 7th Regiment was positioned, Port Argentino, Mount Williams—all were alight with tracer rounds and rocket fire. It was full-on war, the final assault. We waded through a freezing brook, soaked to the waist. Snow fell. The cold? I can’t remember. The adrenaline heated our bodies.
From the valley, we realized the heights, where the 7th Regiment was supposed to meet us, were instead occupied by British forces, firing rifles and rockets at the abandoned Royal Marines barracks. Without communication, we had to resolve it on our own. I turned to Aristegui:
“The enemy’s up there. Let’s surprise them. Don’t advance straight—move to the right, gain the height advantage.”
Moments later, I heard,
“The sub-lieutenant’s been hit in the neck!”
I ran to him, blood pouring from his neck, when one of his men, slapping his cheek, shouted:
"You’ve been good to us, kid. We’ll get you out of here."
They carried him back to safety. Today, Aristegui, nicknamed “Nono,” is an exemplary Malvinas officer, earning the respect of his soldiers at just 19 years old. The bullet had pierced his neck, narrowly missing his spine..
Still in the valley, the enemy illuminated us with flares. Forty of Aristegui’s men and forty of mine were exposed. Knowing artillery fire was imminent, I ordered an assault on their positions, 100 meters above us on Wireless Ridge’s heights. Seconds later, an artillery barrage rained down where we had stood moments earlier. The shells exploded 50 meters overhead, showering us with lethal fragments.
“Charge!” I yelled. There was no other option to reach the heights and support the 7th Regiment. What a sight—my soldiers and Aristegui’s, running uphill, driven by sheer determination. “Cata” Carballo, my speedy aide; “Mono” Paz, my radioman without a radio; Aumasane, Izaguirre, “Bombón” Díaz, Juan Fernández—young men from Buenos Aires, cold, hungry, yet filled with love for their country, surging from the valley to claim that piece of Malvinas soil.
They were just 18 years old. They had little food, no communications, yet an unyielding spirit. To think the tabloids later dismissed them as mere “boys of war”...
In the photo, commandos of the 601 operating in the San Carlos area in broad daylight.
Excerpt taken from the book "Comandos en Malvinas - La otra historia," chapter "Analysis of Operations." The book is available in print and e-book format on Amazon.
We have all read countless times that the great mistake made by the Argentine commandos at Top Malo was entering the house to spend the night. But what would have happened if no one had seen them enter?
...However, if the commandos of the 602 Company committed a mistake worthy of going down in history — one that stands out above all others — it was their decision to start marching immediately after being dropped off by helicopters, in broad daylight, no less. Once on the ground, the grave mistake of flying in during the morning was already irreparable, but to immediately begin moving toward the summit of Mount Simon was, without a doubt, an almost suicidal act. It was certainly a reckless move, and it makes it abundantly clear that these men had no idea what they were doing.
The terrain of the Malvinas, consisting primarily of hills and vegetationless plains, facilitated long-distance observation. This allowed British observers, hidden in advantageous positions within their observation posts (OPs) and equipped with telescopes, to monitor the terrain for many kilometers around them.
Once on the ground, an alternative course of action that Vercesi could have chosen, as a lesser evil, would have been to remain motionless. The men could have hidden as best they could, waiting for nightfall, hoping their infiltration had gone unnoticed or trusting that, if they had been detected, the British would not have time to react.
But moving during daylight? On terrain like the Malvinas? And, on top of that, climbing a height? It was a completely irrational decision that true commandos would never have made, especially in a situation where British dominance was already well established.
But one didn’t need to be a commando to know that. A simple conscript soldier doing his military service, if he had paid attention to his theoretical lessons, would know that you don’t do that. One doesn’t even need to be a soldier. It’s just common sense. An eight-year-old child who regularly plays hide-and-seek would understand that if you don’t want to be seen in an open, well-lit area, you simply don’t move.
To a British observer hidden among the rocks of a hill, scanning the terrain intently, a man loaded with equipment moving across the Malvinas peat bogs, no matter what camouflage he wore, would stand out like a black dot against the predominantly soft hues of the peatlands.
If the distance was too great, the observer wasn’t paying attention, or he was already tired, there was a slim chance the man might not be detected. But if that one man carrying equipment is accompanied by twelve more, and, on top of that, they are made to ascend a mountain or hill — or descend from it — and, to make it even worse, do so over snow, as they did on the 30th, then the march of the commandos of the 1st Section of the 602 became something akin to lighting a match in a dark room. It was as if they were shouting, “Hey guuuuys, we’re heeere!”
This reckless practice was common among the patrols of the GOE, the 601, the 602, the APCA, and the APBT.
Ayuda a que Argentina sepa la verdad y comparte esta publicación.
The Art of Taming: When Argentina Took the SK-105s from Chile
Esteban McLaren for FDRA
Imagine you have a serious problem with a neighbor. You buy a rifle for self-defense. Then, you find out your neighbor plans to buy a shotgun for the same purpose. You take advantage of this information, outbid them, and end up with the shotgun too. Now your neighbor is doubly disadvantaged: not only do they lack a weapon, but they've helped you double your arsenal. This is exactly how Argentina turned the provision of armored defense in Southern Patagonia into a zero-sum game: what Chile lost, Argentina gained. A historic taming!
The intelligence operation to re-acquire the Steyr SK-105 Kürassier light tanks is one of the most intriguing stories in South American military intelligence, involving Argentina and Chile during a period of heightened bilateral tension. The Steyr SK-105 Kürassiers obtained by the Argentine Army in the early 1980s originally came from a batch built for Chile. In 1981, these tanks quickly arrived at armored units in Patagonia, a high-tension region. To secure these vehicles, Argentine authorities had to pay a premium, which not only immediately bolstered their armored capabilities but also prevented Chile’s military modernization. Although costly, the maneuver placed Argentina in a position of clear mechanized superiority.
Historical Context
In the 1970s, relations between Argentina and Chile were extremely tense, partly due to territorial disputes like the Beagle Channel conflict. By 1978, the situation had escalated to the brink of armed conflict. In this context, both countries began strengthening their military capabilities.
It sounds like a geopolitical and military nightmare—a scenario where meticulous planning is thwarted by factors beyond experts’ control. Imagine those Chilean technicians, analyzing every detail of southern Chile’s rugged terrain—with its steep mountains, rivers, channels, and difficult roads—carefully selecting a light tank that seemed to meet all their needs, only to find their acquisition blocked by a last-minute strategic move. This adds an emotional and historical layer of complexity to the story.
"the tanks we ordered and had manufactured for us ended up on the other side of the border"
This kind of situation represents not only a technical defeat but also a moral one, as those tanks—designed to tackle similar challenges in rugged terrain—are now in the hands of a neighboring nation with whom there are historical tensions. It also reflects the geopolitical dynamics of the region, where arms purchases depend not only on technical capabilities but also on international alliances and rivalries.
The irony that all that technical and logistical effort ended up indirectly benefiting the "enemy" would be devastating for those involved. Moreover, it highlights the fragility of national security when relying on external suppliers for defense equipment and how an unexpected shift can significantly alter the balance of power in a volatile region like the Southern Cone of South America.
On the other hand, it underscores the importance of diplomacy and intelligence in military acquisitions, where not only the equipment’s capabilities are evaluated but also the reliability of trade partners and the potential geopolitical consequences of such acquisitions.
Chile's decision to acquire the Austrian SK-105 Kürassier light tank in the 1980s was shaped by a complex geopolitical and military context, influenced by various constraints and the country's specific operational needs.
A context of restrictions and sanctions
During the 1970s and 80s, Chile, under Augusto Pinochet's dictatorship, faced significant international restrictions on arms purchases, largely due to sanctions imposed by various Western countries and the UN in response to the regime’s human rights violations. These restrictions limited Chile’s options for acquiring military equipment from countries with whom it had traditionally maintained defense trade relations, such as the United States and certain European nations. For example:
United States: The U.S. imposed an arms embargo on Chile following the 1973 coup, which prevented Chile from acquiring American-made military equipment.
United Kingdom: While there were some sales to Chile, tensions and restrictions persisted due to internal policy and international pressure.
Another European Countries: Several European countries also adopted restrictive policies on arms sales to Chile due to sanctions over human rights violations, with Austria eventually adhering to these restrictions under strong internal pressure.
Austria's Choice and the SK-105 Kürassier
In this context, Austria emerged as a viable option for Chile, as it was not aligned with the power blocs imposing sanctions. Being a neutral country and not part of NATO, Austria faced no significant political restrictions on arms sales to Chile at that time. Additionally, Austria’s defense industry was seeking to expand its markets, and the SK-105 Kürassier presented an opportunity for them.
Features of the SK-105 and Its Suitability for Chile's Needs
The SK-105 Kürassier was designed by Austria as a light tank intended for territorial defense, particularly suited for mountainous and rugged terrain, aligning well with Chile’s geographic needs, given its extensive mountainous regions along the Andes.
While similar to the AMX-13, the SK-105 Kürassier is 4 tons heavier, with a ground pressure of 0.78 kg/cm². It has a larger chassis than the French tank and is equipped with a more powerful, 320 HP water-cooled engine. The transmission is manual, featuring six forward gears and one reverse, enabling a maximum road speed of 70 km/h.
The suspension system includes five pairs of road wheels, three support rollers, and two sprockets: one tensioning and one drive. The first road wheel has a shock absorber and spring to enhance suspension.
The vehicle has an internal fuel tank of 350 liters, providing a range of 520 km on paved roads. Its main 105 mm gun, the same used on the AMX-13 105 version, can penetrate up to 360 mm of armor and is mounted on an oscillating turret.
Among the features that made the SK-105 appealing to Chile are:
Mobility in Mountainous Terrain: With a light weight of around 17 tons and an ability to operate on difficult terrain, the SK-105 was ideal for Chile’s mountainous regions. Specifically designed for rugged landscapes, it had enhanced climbing capabilities compared to heavier combat tanks.
Armament: Equipped with a 105 mm cannon, the SK-105 provided substantial firepower for a light tank, suitable for countering armored threats within the South American context.
Oscillating Turret: The gun’s oscillating turret allowed for steeper firing angles than a traditional turret. This feature offered three main advantages: a high gun position that maintained weapon depression capability, a low profile enhancing battlefield concealment, and an automatic loader increasing rate of fire. However, in practice, the loader’s performance was limited. Additionally, the main gun experienced reduced recoil, thanks to the increased mass that helped dissipate energy—an advantage particularly useful in mountainous terrain.
Cost and Maintenance: Compared to heavier tanks, the SK-105 was more economical to operate and maintain, making it a practical logistical and financial choice for Chile.
Operation Development
In the annals of military history, few operations have been as laden with intrigue and controversy as the one involving Chile, Austria, and ultimately, Argentina. This story, worthy of a cinematic thriller, begins with an ambitious order: Chile commissioned Austrian company Steyr to supply 100 SK-105 Kürassier tank destroyers, six recovery tanks, three Saurer infantry fighting vehicles, three command infantry fighting vehicles, 360 submachine guns, and 124 machine guns. The entire order totaled approximately 2.075 billion Austrian schillings, or around $148.1 million in 1978, equivalent to about $721 million in 2024 (Pilz, 1982, pp. 125-127).
Chile, amid its military dictatorship, was on the verge of receiving these Steyr SK-105 Kürassier tanks when an unexpected twist changed the course of history. Under overwhelming political pressure, the Austrian government canceled the shipment. From the outset, the order had been a source of intense controversy. In democratic Austria, selling arms to a regime accused of systematic human rights violations was unthinkable. Chilean exiles and left-wing political movements mobilized to demand that the Austrian government block the export, even though the vehicles were ready for dispatch (Kabl, 2022).
Moral justifications became the centerpiece of the protests: how could Austria, a country committed to human rights, sell arms to a dictator like Pinochet, infamous for repression and extrajudicial executions? Additionally, Austria faced a reputation dilemma for breaking such a significant contract, though some argued this impact might be "mitigated" by the availability of similar vehicles, like the French AMX-13, on other markets. There was also an attempt to secure Chile's agreement to a purchase condition: the tanks were only to be used for defense against external threats, not for internal repression—a condition difficult to enforce. Nevertheless, the shipment was canceled, and the tanks were sent to storage, sparking further controversy in Austria due to the economic losses and potential job cuts resulting from the decision.
Amid this scandal, Argentine military intelligence, always alert to new opportunities, saw a chance to turn Chile’s setback into Argentina’s gain. With the finesse of a spy thriller, Argentine intelligence orchestrated a plan to redirect the tanks to their own country. On June 15, 1981, the New York Times(click here) revealed the audacious maneuver: Argentina had purchased the Austrian vehicles at a premium, paying $32 million above Chile’s original order. The news made global waves.
Drama unfolded during the operation’s final phase. Protesters gathered at the Steyr-Werks factory, where the tanks were built, intent on blocking their shipment to Argentina. But tensions escalated violently as factory workers, furious over the potential job losses, clashed with the demonstrators, leaving 60 injured and clearing the way for the tanks to depart.
The story ended on an ironic note: the following year, Steyr, previously in a precarious financial position, moved from deficit to surplus, thanks largely to this deal. What began as a moral dispute in Austria concluded with an unexpected economic boon, reminding the world that in the complex zero-sum game of politics and war, there are always winners and losers.
In the world of diplomacy and arms sales, nothing is as it seems, and Argentina’s maneuver to redirect tanks intended for Chile is a perfect example of intrigue and corruption. It’s almost certain that Argentina’s plan involved bribes to key officials and figures in the tank delivery process. It’s worth noting that the entire arms sales process in Austria was deeply politicized—a fertile ground for under-the-table deals.
Through a clever intermediary, Argentina offered Austria a higher price than Chile’s original agreement. Thus, the tanks initially destined for Santiago ended up in Buenos Aires. But this raises an uncomfortable question: why did Austria prohibit the sale to Pinochet’s regime but not apply the same standard to Argentina’s military junta? The answer remains elusive, though Steyr’s financial troubles, which threatened the company with bankruptcy, likely played a significant role in permitting this second deal. Without Argentina’s offer, the tanks would have remained in storage, incurring costs and serving as a reminder of a bad decision. Argentina’s proposal gave Vienna a second chance to treat the matter as business rather than a principled stand.
Why was the sale to Argentina accepted? First, despite similar human rights abuses, Austria’s diplomatic relationship with Argentina was different. Austria viewed Argentina as a strategic market in South America, and the decision to sell the Kürassiers was partially influenced by economic interests and trade relations. Secondly, although Argentina was also under a military dictatorship, international scrutiny over its human rights record—while condemned—didn’t reach the same intensity in some European circles as Chile’s. This allowed the sale to be justified differently to the international community.
The story’s conclusion took place in 1981, when the first 57 Austrian SK-105 Kürassier tank destroyers were loaded onto an Argentine ship at the French port of Le Havre, bound for Argentina as part of a larger 120-unit order. By November 1982, the remaining 27 tank destroyers completed the shipment. However, Argentina and Steyr’s relationship didn’t end there; in 1985, ten additional recovery vehicles were sent, followed by four more SK-105s in 2006.
Today, these tanks are in service with the 11th Armored Cavalry Reconnaissance Squadron “Colonel Juan Pascual Pringles,” headquartered in Rospentek Aike, and the 11th Tank Cavalry Regiment based in Puerto Santa Cruz. Interestingly, Rospentek Aike is located just a few kilometers from the Chilean border—a silent reminder of the tensions that once fueled this complex dance of power and deception.
11th Armored Cavalry Reconnaissance Squadron “Colonel Juan Pascual Pringles” (Rospentek Aike) and 11th Tank Cavalry Regiment (Puerto Santa Cruz)
It's important to note that the operation involved not only intelligence work and potential bribery but also a disinformation tactic to ensure that Chilean authorities remained unaware of what was happening until it was too late. Chile learned through the New York Times article that "its" tanks had been redirected across the border to Argentina, forcing them to seek an alternative solution to reinforce their military capacity amidst escalating tensions with their neighbor.
Thus, what began as a straightforward commercial transaction evolved into a masterwork of international intrigue, where a company’s financial need met a nation’s military ambition. In this zero-sum game, Argentina emerged victorious, leaving Chile empty-handed and Austria with a heavy conscience—but a full treasury.
Impact and Repercussions
The operation had a significant impact on diplomatic and military relations between Argentina and Chile. While it did not trigger open conflict—primarily because Chile would have been unable to withstand a confrontation in the Southern Theater with such a military imbalance—it deepened mutual distrust and highlighted the underlying tensions of an era marked by military dictatorships and regional rivalries.
From a military perspective, Argentina successfully strengthened its tank fleet at a critical moment, albeit at a considerable cost due to the premium paid and the risks involved in the operation. Chile, meanwhile, was forced to reevaluate its arms acquisition strategies and the security of its international operations.
Reasons Why This Case Is Fascinating
This story is fascinating by various reasons:
Strategic Maneuvering: The operation is a textbook example of strategic maneuvering in international relations, where Argentina leveraged intelligence, diplomacy, and financial incentives to outmaneuver Chile.
Espionage and Disinformation: The case involved not only intelligence but also deliberate disinformation to keep Chile in the dark, creating a sense of suspense and intrigue akin to a spy thriller.
Moral and Political Complexity: Austria faced a moral and political dilemma—balancing economic gain against ethical concerns in dealing with military regimes—highlighting the complexities of arms sales in volatile regions.
Economic Motivation Meets Military Ambition: The intersection of Steyr’s financial needs and Argentina’s military ambitions turned a simple arms sale into a high-stakes game with regional repercussions.
Regional Power Dynamics: This case exemplifies the zero-sum nature of regional power dynamics in South America, where one country's gain directly impacted its neighbor's security and defense strategies.
Long-lasting Symbolism: The tanks’ final placement near the Chilean border serves as a lasting reminder of the geopolitical tensions and maneuvering between the two countries during this era.
In summary, the operation to re-acquire the Steyr SK-105 Kürassier tanks is a prime example of the complex and often murky interplay between espionage, diplomacy, and military strategy in South America during the Cold War. It’s a story that highlights how countries may resort to extraordinary methods to secure a strategic advantage in high-tension situations.
References
Knabl, Leonhard Lorenz, Österreichische Waffenexporte in den Globalen Süden. Der Diskurs um Panzerexporte im öffentlich-rechtlichen Rundfunk, in: Historia.Scribere 14 (2022), S. 229–255. DOI 10.15203/historia.scribere.14.614
Pilz, Peter, Die Panzermacher. Die österreichische Rüstungsindustrie und ihre Exporte, Wien 1982.
During World War II, as in World War I, Argentina maintained an official stance of neutrality for much of the conflict. However, within the armed forces—particularly in the Army—tensions emerged among factions debating what the country’s true position should be. One such faction, aligned with the Grupo de Oficiales Unidos (United Officers Group - GOU), sympathized with the Nazi regime and, until 1943, advocated for Argentina to join the war on the side of the Axis powers. Following their successful coup d'état that same year, this faction seized control of the government, laying the groundwork for their preferred candidate, Juan Domingo Perón, to ascend to the presidency in the 1946 elections.
Perón, the son of Italian immigrants, initially assumed office as a constitutional president. However, he soon implemented a series of reforms aimed at suppressing opposition and consolidating his grip on power. Leveraging the surplus funds accumulated during Argentina’s wartime trade boom, he garnered support through bribes, subsidies, and other corrupt practices that allowed him to manipulate institutions to his advantage. Mismanagement of public resources became rampant: individuals with no prior wealth amassed fortunes, opposition media outlets were shut down or co-opted, and dissenting voices were systematically silenced—some through torture.
Amid this climate, a marginalized faction of the armed forces, sympathetic to the Allies and sidelined since the 1943 coup, began to regroup. This paper seeks to examine the recurring patterns within the anti-Peronist, or constitutionalist, forces that influenced Argentina's internal political-military dynamics, particularly during the period from 1955 to 1988, when these factions played a pivotal role in shaping the nation’s political landscape.
The Pro-Allied Faction
The earliest manifestations of this faction within the Argentine Army likely became evident during the failed coup attempt of 1951. What defined this group was their unwavering focus on action. These were military professionals trained to view challenges through the lens of the friend-enemy dichotomy. Their approach to any threat was inherently military: once the threat was identified, the enemy was delineated, and operations were executed to attack, pursue, and, if possible, annihilate it.
A prominent example of this ethos is Admiral Benjamín Gargiulo, the founder of the Argentine Navy's Marine Infantry Corps (IMARA). Inspired by the U.S. Marine Corps, Gargiulo instilled a spirit of rigorous preparation and combat readiness in his troops. During the failed coup of June 16, 1955, when his efforts were thwarted, Gargiulo chose to commit suicide—an act that shocked many but epitomized his sense of military honor and courage. This same valor would be echoed 27 years later at the Battle of Mount Tumbledown, where the Marine Infantry displayed exceptional bravery in the defense of Puerto Argentino during the Malvinas War.
This decisive and action-oriented approach stood in stark contrast to the hesitation shown by Juan Domingo Perón during the Liberating Revolution of 1955 (or 1955 Revolution). Faced with a rebellion in which only 18% of the troops turned against him, Perón faltered. The insurgents, led by General Eduardo Lonardi, stood firm, refusing to negotiate or compromise. Perón, accustomed to the political arena where deals and compromises were standard, seemingly misjudged the rebels’ intentions. Believing they sought a power-sharing agreement, he hesitated to order a decisive assault against their encircled forces. This hesitation allowed the insurgents to regroup and resume their offensive.
Once Lonardi's forces had reorganized, his first act was to order Perón’s arrest. This move, naturally, opened the door to his trial and potentially his execution—bringing Perón’s government to an abrupt end. Only then did Perón fully realize he was facing seasoned military professionals, not the political opportunists he was accustomed to outmaneuvering. His miscalculation sealed his fate, underscoring the stark difference between a military trained for decisive action and a politician unprepared for the harsh realities of armed rebellion.
The Liberating Revolution and the Formation of Army Officers
The Liberating Revolution, which overthrew the government of Juan Domingo Perón in 1955, had a profound impact on the composition and professional trajectory of officers within the Argentine Army. This process began with mass purges of officers deemed loyal to Peronism and the reinstatement of those aligned with anti-Peronist forces. Spearheaded by the Revolución Libertadora between 1955 and 1956, these changes disrupted the Army’s hierarchy, significantly altering its command structure and deeply affecting the careers of numerous officers (Mazzei, 2013).
The purge of Peronist officers resulted in the forced retirement of approximately 500 officers, many of whom were from the 60th to 74th graduating classes of the Military Academy. This affected officers from various branches, including infantry (53%), cavalry, and artillery. The vacancies left by their removal were often filled by less updated or less capable officers, which weakened the Army’s upper ranks.
Simultaneously, the Liberating Revolution reinstated around 180 anti-Peronist officers who had previously been dismissed. Many of these individuals later ascended to high-ranking positions within the military hierarchy, with some achieving the rank of general. The restoration of these officers solidified the influence of a military faction closely aligned with anti-Peronist ideology, significantly shaping the institution's leadership and operational outlook for years to come.na visión conservadora y antiperonista, que jugaría un rol crucial en los años venideros.
The "Blues" and the Consolidation of Military Power
Following the coup, the faction known as the "Blues" emerged as the dominant faction within the Army, consolidating its control throughout the 1960s and 1970s. This faction, under the leadership of figures such as Alejandro Lanusse and Alcides López Aufranc, imposed a militaristic and conservative vision that influenced both internal politics and Argentina's participation in territorial conflicts and the anti-subversive war. This faction managed to stay in power through a network of internal loyalties and through control of promotions and retirements within the military institution.
The Ideological and Operational Legacy
The impact of the Revolución Libertadora was not limited to a reconfiguration of the military hierarchy, but established a doctrine that would influence key events in Argentine history, such as the anti-subversive struggle and the conflict in the Malvinas Islands in 1982. The work underlines how this militaristic ideology promoted violent intervention in both internal and external conflicts, in defence of "national sovereignty" and the stability of internal order.
The changes in the composition and profile of Army officers during the Liberating Revolution significantly influenced military decisions in the following decades, particularly in how the Army approached counterinsurgency operations and territorial conflicts. The training and consolidation of these cadres during and after the Liberating Revolution instilled a distinctly aggressive decision-making style, exemplified by the harsh measures employed during the military dictatorship’s counterinsurgency campaign. This period saw the implementation of violent repression strategies against any perceived threat to the established order.
Moreover, the establishment of a high command that favored the use of force and embraced a nationalist perspective played a critical role in decisions such as the escalation of tensions during the Beagle Channel conflict with Chile in the 1970s and the invasion of the Malvinas Islands in 1982. The dominant ideology among these military officers—shaped during the Revolución Libertadora (1955 Revolution) and solidified in the subsequent decades—portrayed the Army as the guardian of national sovereignty against external enemies and as the enforcer of internal order against perceived subversion.
Professional soldiers trained under this doctrine operated with a clear and uncompromising premise: all problems were to be resolved militarily. Ambiguity was not an option. They assessed situations, identified enemies, planned attacks, and executed operations decisively, relying on force or the threat of it. The first major adversary of this philosophy was its ideological nemesis: the dictator Juan Domingo Perón. Subsequently, internal power struggles between factions emerged, including the infamous Azules versus Colorados clashes, leading to decades of military uprisings and internal conflicts.
Magdalena's 8th Tank Cavalry Regiment M4 Sherman Firefly over the Punta Indio Naval Station tarmac in 1965.
Conflict resolution within this faction of the Argentine military was consistently taken to extremes. The failed coup of 1951, the bombing of Plaza de Mayo on June 16, 1955, the decisive coup of September 13, 1955, the executions at León Suárez, and the series of coups throughout the 1960s left no doubt about the faction's uncompromising approach. On April 3, 1965, the 8th Tank Cavalry Regiment from Magdalena brutally attacked the Punta Indio Naval Air Base after being bombarded with rockets and napalm by naval aircraft. This level of unrestrained aggression became the norm.
A mentality shaped by the spirit of blitzkrieg dominated operations during the counterinsurgency campaigns, the near-war territorial disputes with Chile in 1978, and the climactic recovery of the Malvinas Islands. Operations such as Soberanía and Tronador exemplified this mindset. These plans were masterpieces of military strategy, marked by creative approaches and the ability to anticipate Chilean responses several steps ahead. They encapsulated the lessons learned by the officer corps, meticulously applying the most advanced military doctrine of the era.
The reliance on military solutions did not end there. The Carapintada rebellions and the brutal retaking of the 3rd Mechanized Infantry Regiment at La Tablada marked the closing chapter of a generation of soldiers forged for war. Often unable to resolve matters through other means, they consistently chose the use of military force as their primary response.
The negative consequences of this approach were evident in the widespread social condemnation of the methods employed during the counterinsurgency campaigns. The defeat in the Falklands War delivered the final blow to this mindset, leaving not only a profound loss of life but also a deep scar on national pride.
From a more positive perspective, the Argentine military approached their profession with uncompromising consistency, making decisions rooted firmly in military doctrine. Despite errors, indecision, and the brutalities committed, their actions often adhered to rigorous operational planning. Notable examples of military precision included Operation Rosario, an amphibious assault brilliantly executed against an enemy garrison with the explicit objective of avoiding casualties. Additionally, Argentina became the first country to simultaneously dismantle two terrorist movements—one urban and one rural—through a decentralized and audacious operation involving all military and police units to neutralize insurgent hideouts.
However, this war was later scrutinized in Argentine civil courts through a judicial process marred by irregularities, including the retroactive application of laws and improper proceedings that remain controversial. One critical misstep in the military’s counterinsurgency method was the disposal of insurgents’ bodies instead of returning them to their families, a decision that continues to fuel contention.
A Reflection on Military Responses and Leadership Failures
Allow me a personal reflection. One expects a military response from the armed forces; otherwise, there is no reason to call on them. When the military is summoned to address a problem, it is understood that the issue will be resolved manu militari. This entails frontal assaults, flanking maneuvers, precision strikes, saturating defenses, and seeking the enemy's surrender. The generation of Aries, guided by the Roman god of war, responded as expected—sometimes with massive errors, but always consistent with how the nation had trained them.
I deeply detest, with significant conviction, when a military officer ventures into political analysis, planning, or implementation for a real-world problem. When a tactician delves into geopolitics instead of focusing on executing orders from their superiors, it reflects a clear lack of professionalism. Such failures have existed, continue to exist, and will likely persist. A case in point was the HMS Shackleton incident, when the British oceanographic vessel intruded into Argentine waters in a blatant affront to national sovereignty. Intercepted by the ARA Rosales, the naval command from Libertad headquarters issued a direct order: "Sink it!" However, the naval officer in charge chose instead to have a coffee—a gesture that not only dishonored his uniform but also assumed roles reserved for the General Staff.
In 1982, General Luciano Benjamín Menéndez, as Argentina's military governor in the Malvinas, was tasked with designing the defensive plan against a potential British re-invasion. His plan, however, was a static defensive setup devoid of imagination or strategy. It resembled something conceived by a Chilean general—lacking in creativity and more concerned with maintaining good relations with the kelpers (the British-settled population) than defending the territory. When the enemy landing at San Carlos was detected, Menéndez's response was painfully reactive, if it could even be called that.
From that moment, events spiraled downward. There were no ambushes planned, no maneuvers to regroup forces, and no flanking or encirclement strategies implemented. Menéndez left each position commander to act independently, offering no centralized coordination or leadership. What emerged was a general with little intellect and even less courage, paralyzed by mediocrity, passively awaiting the inevitable. He failed to optimize the resources at his disposal, whether abundant or scarce. Instead of leading, Menéndez surrendered to inertia, displaying a complete lack of strategic vision and leadership. This was the cost of nepotism—elevating an officer tied to families associated with the Revolución Libertadora and the counterinsurgency campaigns. Menéndez prioritized geopolitical relations with those who despised him rather than focusing on his troops and crafting the best possible military plan.
A Broader Legacy of Patriotism
Despite the tragic context of Latin America, this generation of Aries left behind a lesson in patriotism that transcends generations. The shameful examples of Cuba, Venezuela, and Nicaragua—where senior military officers, lacking ethics, morals, and discipline, handed their nations over to petty dictators—stand as cautionary tales of what Argentina could have become. Yet, in Argentina, a cadre of patriotic officers emerged. When a dictator like Perón sought to perpetuate his rule, it was the brave 18% of troops who rose in rebellion to depose him. This is not the cursed Caribbean; this is Argentina. And in Argentina, when the military acts with honor, it does not surrender its homeland to tyrants.
Lessons from the Liberating Revolution
The Liberating Revolution not only restructured the Argentine Army and the entire armed forces in terms of their composition, but it also laid the ideological and operational groundwork for the decisions that would shape the nation’s military history in the decades that followed. From this experience, both positive lessons and critical errors emerge. It is our generation’s duty to learn from both as we shape the doctrine that will restore us to the military power we were destined to be.
Jorge Zanela, who was then a 23-year-old second lieutenant and head of the artillery section of GA 4 (4th Airborne Artillery Group).
Starting on May 24, Battery A, composed of four artillery pieces, took a position in the Darwin area, joining Task Force "Mercedes." They would face the British advancing toward that point after having landed in San Carlos Bay with harassing fire.
Two artillery pieces were sent by sea aboard the Río Iguazú. After being attacked by British aviation, and in a complicated rescue operation that took over a day to recover the pieces blindly from the ship's flooded hold, they reached Darwin. The other two Oto Melara pieces were transported by a Chinook helicopter on the afternoon of May 26.
That day, the artillery pieces began to fire. They also targeted a British frigate, which retreated after 16 shots.
May 28 was a day of intense combat. Zanela recalls that everything came down to loading and firing. Each howitzer was commanded by a non-commissioned officer and assisted by five soldiers. He estimates that 2,400 rounds were fired, "everything we had," he described.
Most of the activity took place at night. During the day, they would scout the terrain and transport ammunition. It was a constant back-and-forth carrying crates.
The Oto Melara had a range of ten kilometers and could not effectively reach the enemy positions. It had a shorter range, requiring a steeper firing angle. Even so, the soft peat soil caused both Argentine and British projectiles to sink too deeply, making the explosions less effective than expected.
It was two days of relentless combat. Some soldiers bled from their ears due to ruptured eardrums caused by the continuous thunder of the artillery. Many were temporarily deaf, and soldiers ended up with swollen fists from the force required to push the projectiles into the artillery pieces.
They did not have forward observers or a fire direction center, so they relied on highly accurate Kelper maps and information from advanced infantry units.
On May 29, at 2:00 a.m., combat ceased in Darwin. The artillerymen suffered no fatalities, only minor injuries from shrapnel, and one non-commissioned officer injured his arm after being struck by the recoil of a cannon.
The cannons were rendered unusable: the breech blocks and aiming scopes were removed and thrown into the sea along with other equipment. A Mercedes-Benz jeep, which had only 80 kilometers on its odometer, had its oil drained and was left running to seize the engine. When the engine held up, parts of it were broken with sledgehammer blows.
Still in the valley, the enemy illuminated us with flares. Forty of Aristegui’s men and forty of mine were exposed. Knowing artillery fire was imminent, I ordered an assault on their positions, 100 meters above us on Wireless Ridge’s heights. Seconds later, an artillery barrage rained down where we had stood moments earlier. The shells exploded 50 meters overhead, showering us with lethal fragments.
