On June 23, 1994, during a training flight, the Argentine Air Force A-4B Skyhawk, registered as C-209, suffered an engine failure while flying over the mountainous region of the Salar de Tolillar in the province of Salta. The pilot, then-Captain Oscar Charadía, attempted to restart the engine without success. When the ejection system failed, he managed to execute an emergency landing in the salar, surviving the incident.
Over the years, the aircraft's remains have remained at the crash site. In 2019, a group of motorcyclists, accompanied by now-Brigadier Major Oscar Charadía, traveled to the site to pay tribute and place a new Argentine flag on the wreckage.
Although no specific videos of the aircraft in the Salar de Tolillar have been found, images and testimonies document the current state of the wreckage and the visits made to the site.
When the forts along the line corresponding to the Northern Frontier were completed and occupied by different detachments, the rest of the troops of the Division began executing the third phase of Minister Alsina’s plan: the construction of an obstacle to discourage indigenous raids—a trench with a parapet.
The project aimed to defend the occupied area, and approximately 650 kilometers of trench were planned, stretching from Fort Cuatreros in Bahía Blanca to Laguna La Amarga in Córdoba.
Alsina’s concept was to gain land through successive advances and to hold onto the conquered territory with a system of fortifications. Despite strong criticism from Buenos Aires newspapers and the opinions of influential figures knowledgeable about the indigenous issue, nothing could stop Alsina’s project. Once the forts were completed, work began on the trench.
The trench, as planned, was to be 3 meters wide and 2 meters deep (these measurements varied according to the terrain), with a parapet 1 meter high built on an embankment facing east, which had a base width of 4.50 meters.
The Northern Division was assigned to complete this work over a stretch of 30 leagues. Colonel Villegas began the construction with dedication and completed the assigned work in a short time.
Soldiers and hired civilians worked on the trench, receiving a payment of 12 strong pesos per meter of trench built. The work was overseen by the French civil engineer Alfredo Ebelot (1), while the efforts of the Northern Division were led by its undisputed commander, Colonel Conrado E. Villegas. They completed 152 kilometers and 200 meters of the planned trench, securing a conquered area of 127,472 square kilometers—the largest territorial gain of the entire advance. This achievement elicited expressions of satisfaction from Minister Alsina when he visited the Trenque Lauquen camp in January 1877.
Profile of the Alsina Trench
The originally projected 600 kilometers were never fully realized, with only about 325 kilometers being built.
To monitor it, 109 forts were established—small, circular structures just over twenty meters in diameter, featuring an adobe hut and a watchtower at the center, surrounded by a ditch and a stockade of pointed wooden stakes to reinforce their defense. Each fort housed between seven and ten soldiers specifically chosen for this assignment, who were required to conduct daily patrols along the line to scout enemy activity. The distance between forts was short, allowing for rapid communication in case of raids or other incidents.
The command post was a fort like the others but with higher status, as it managed the supply of horses and centralized all information from nearby forts. Additionally, soldiers’ families lived there, providing support and companionship, which helped reduce desertion rates.
Reference
(1) Alfred Ebelot, engineer, journalist, and writer, was born in Saint-Gaudens in 1837 and completed his professional studies in Paris. Due to his republican ideals, which opposed the rule of Emperor Napoleon III, he refused to pursue a career as a government official. This defiance led him to work as an editorial secretary for Revue des Deux Mondes, a highly respected publication among Europe’s and America’s intellectual circles.
In 1870, when the French Empire seemed stronger than ever and the impending catastrophe was not yet foreseen, he decided to try his luck in Argentina. He arrived in 1871, during a period of transition. Buenos Aires was still "the great village," and the term "the desert" was used to refer to the vast region about 300 kilometers from the capital that remained outside the authority of the national government.
At the time, Argentina’s total population was 1,819,000, with the French community, numbering 32,000, being the third-largest foreign group. It included professionals, industrialists, merchants, landowners, artists, and craftsmen.
In 1870, news of the Franco-Prussian War, which led to the fall of the Empire and the creation of the Third Republic, kept both the French community and the broader public on edge. Upon arriving in Buenos Aires, Ebelot founded a politically charged newspaper, Le Républicain, aimed at defending republican ideals and promoting the actions of Léon Gambetta, whom he knew and admired.
However, the newspaper was abruptly discontinued due to the yellow fever epidemic, which coincided with the dramatic days of the Paris Commune. Seeking new opportunities, Ebelot was hired by the Argentine government to conduct frontier studies. After overseeing the construction of the "Alsina Trench," he accompanied General Julio A. Roca in the Conquest of the Desert.
He passed away in Toulouse in 1920..
Source
Mayo, José F. – Un titán del desierto, Gral. Conrado E. Villegas – Trenque Lauquen
Sáenz Quesada, María – Argentina, Historia del país y de su gente – Ed. Sudamericana
The Longest Day: A Daring Rescue at Calderón Naval Air Station
On May 15, a British commando raid, supported by naval gunfire from a frigate, left the T-34 Mentor, IA-58 Pucará, and Skyvan aircraft stationed at Calderón Naval Air Station on Borbón Island completely inoperable. With no possibility of repair, the Naval Aviation personnel integrated with Marine Infantry units, assuming new roles in ground defense, combat air patrol (PAC) observation, naval and meteorological reconnaissance, and pilot rescue operations.
The Two Sea Kings on Malvinas soil, in the photo From left to right: SI Montani, TF Brandenburg, TN Iglesias Osvaldo, CC Barro, TN Iglesias Guillermo and SI Giqueaux
The Sea Kings on Malvinas
The British landing at San Carlos forced the Command of Naval Aviation to reassess the situation of the ten aviation personnel stranded on the island, weighing the possibility of their evacuation.
Since Marine Infantry units were also still stationed there, coordination was sought with the Marine component commander to evacuate all personnel to Puerto Howard on Gran Malvina (West Falkland), where they could regroup with the Argentine Army detachment stationed there.
The only way to accomplish this was to cross the three-mile-wide strait between the islands using two outboard motor boats. However, the Marine Infantry commander decided his troops would remain at Calderón, leading the Naval Aviation commander to opt for an aerial extraction of his men.
Mission Orders: A High-Risk Operation
The Commander of Naval Aviation immediately issued orders to:
Captain Rivero, Commander of Naval Air Force No. 2, to prepare SH-3D “Sea King” helicopters and the necessary support personnel for the mission from Río Grande.
Captain Martini, Commander of Task Group 80.1, to provide coordination, control, communications, and search-and-rescue support.
The Second Naval Helicopter Squadron, then deployed in Viedma, conducting anti-submarine operations in the Gulf of San Matías, received what was effectively a suicide mission: an extraction operation in British-controlled airspace.
On the night of May 28, all planned flights were canceled, and the squadron began preparing the only three available SH-3D Sea Kings (2-H-231, 2-H-233, and 2-H-234).
The rescue zone was dangerously close to enemy lines at San Carlos, where the Royal Navy’s Harrier jets maintained total air superiority. The helicopters would operate with complete vulnerability, lacking any weapons, sensors, or countermeasures, and being easily detectable due to their large radar cross-section and the unmistakable roar of their engines.
Mission Challenges: A Deadly Gauntlet
From the outset, planners identified critical risks:
Extreme vulnerability: The helicopters were easy prey for any enemy interceptor.
Zero defensive capability: They carried no weapons to counter aerial threats.
High detectability:
Radar signature: The large rotor provided an excellent reflective surface, ensuring detection.
Acoustic signature: The Sea King’s powerful engines could be heard from miles away.
Limited speed for evasion: Factory-restricted top speed of 120 knots.
.
Sea King painted by Arsenal Aeronaval N° 2 for the rescue mission on Isla Borbón (photo: Frigate Lieutenant Antonio Urbano -in the photo- via Claudio Meunier).
Operational range exceeded: The extraction point was far beyond their maximum combat radius.
Return flight under extreme conditions:
Night operations at low altitude, navigating through mountainous terrain.
Possible need for instrument flying due to deteriorating weather.
Icing hazard: The Sea King was not certified for flight in icing conditions.
Navigation accuracy issues:
Unreliable equipment for long-range overwater flight.
Potential errors of 10-15 nautical miles per hour.
High failure rate of onboard systems.
Lack of radar: No meteorological or navigation radar available.
No electronic countermeasures (ECM): The helicopters had no means of jamming or evading enemy radar or missiles.
Evacuation from a highly contested zone: The North San Carlos Strait, a key area occupied by British forces, was dangerously close to the extraction site.
A Desperate Gamble in Enemy Territory
To enhance their chances of survival, one Sea King was repainted by Naval Arsenal No. 2 specifically for this mission, applying camouflage modifications to reduce visibility.
The pilots and crew fully understood the odds were against them—they would be flying directly into the jaws of the British forces, with little hope of returning unscathed. However, the Argentine Navy was not willing to abandon its men.
With courage as their only advantage, the Sea King crews prepared to embark on one of the most perilous rescue operations of the Malvinas War.
Would they succeed, or were they flying to certain death?
Original sketch published in the book History of Argentine Naval Aviation Volume III – Héctor A. Martini.
The Longest Day: The Countdown to a Daring Rescue
With orders to exhaust every resource to ensure the mission’s success, it was deemed essential to deploy two helicopters for mutual support. Operating in pairs provided greater payload capacity, improved navigation accuracy, and redundancy in case of failure. Additionally, at least one of the helicopters needed to be equipped with a VLF OMEGA navigation system to compensate for severe navigational limitations, preventing an inaccurate landfall on the islands—or worse, an unintended and disastrous descent into enemy territory.
Critical Mission Requirements
To mitigate the extreme risks, the following were requested:
Electronic Countermeasures (ECM) to detect enemy presence, particularly in concealed inlets where British forces might be stationed.
Meteorological or navigation radar to improve flight precision and safety.
Intelligence on enemy activity in the operating area.
Communications support for coordination and potential emergency responses.
Confirmation of fuel availability at Borbón and its operational condition.
Weather updates for both the target area and flight route.
Night vision goggles to facilitate the low-altitude nocturnal approach.
Camouflage paint to reduce visual detection—however, due to time constraints, only one helicopter could be repainted.
Mission Preparations: Engineering a Survival Plan
At dawn on May 29, with weight calculations adjusted to the last possible pound, logistical work began to modify the helicopters to match the planned configurations. All anti-submarine warfare (ASW) equipment and non-essential components were systematically removed to maximize fuel and payload capacity.
Among the first items discarded were the seats, followed by the bomb racks, which each saved 14 pounds. This seemingly minor adjustment underscored the desperate need to maximize available load capacity, primarily for carrying 200-liter fuel drums—a crucial move to extend the operational range as far as possible.
Since in-flight refueling was impossible, the fuel transfer solution was brutally simple yet effective: the floor panel above the main fuel tank was removed, and a manual clock-style pump was used to transfer fuel from the drums as the internal tanks emptied.
A final operational check revealed that the Sea Kings’ flight envelope had to be pushed beyond its limits. Torque limits were reassessed, allowing for a maximum speed of 135 knots—15 knots above the factory limit, a dangerous increase that risked blade detachment but was necessary to improve survivability.
Final Modifications and Crew Deployments
On May 30, the Sea King 2-H-234 (crew: Lieutenant Commander Guillermo Iglesias, Lieutenant Ricardo Rey, and Petty Officer Second Class Beltrán Giqueaux) was deployed to Comandante Espora Naval Air Base (BACE) for the installation, testing, and calibration of the VLF OMEGA navigation system.
By May 31, the calibration was completed, but the crew had just two hours of training to operate the system before taking off. That night, 2-H-234 (now crewed by Commander Raúl Lorenzo, Lieutenant Commander Guillermo Iglesias, Lieutenant Ricardo Rey, and Chief Petty Officer Roberto Montani) departed BACE for Río Grande, arriving at 23:45 hours.
Meanwhile, the two other helicopters, which had remained in Viedma for final preparations, departed for Río Grande on June 1, arriving at 17:00 hours:
2-H-231 (Commander Norberto Barro, Lieutenant Antonio Urbano, and Petty Officer Second Class Henrique Beltrán Giqueaux).
2-H-233 (Lieutenant Commander **Osvaldo Iglesias, Lieutenant Oscar Brandeburgo, and Chief Petty Officer Hernán Verdugo).
That night, with all three helicopters and their crews finally assembled in Río Grande, the final mission details were reviewed. Takeoff was scheduled for 14:00 hours the next day, ensuring arrival at Borbón by twilight to reduce exposure to enemy detection and interception.
Mission Greenlight: Last-Minute Adjustments
Upon arrival in Río Grande, the following mission-critical elements were confirmed:
✔ Fuel at Borbón: The exact quantity remained uncertain, but estimations suggested a sufficient margin to complete the mission. However, its condition was unknown. ✔ Night Vision Goggles: Secured and distributed among the crew. ✔ Camouflage Painting: The crew managed to paint only one helicopter overnight due to time constraints. ✔ Aerial Reconnaissance Request: Task Group 80.1 formally requested that Task Force 80 conduct a scouting flight along the planned route to detect potential threats and assess enemy activity.
With all available resources exhausted, three unarmed Sea Kings, pushing beyond their operational limits, prepared to fly directly into one of the most hostile airspaces in the South Atlantic.
The clock was ticking.
Original sketch of the base in Malvinas published in the book History of the Argentine Naval Aviation Volume III – Héctor A. Martini
The Longest Day: Into the Storm
Green Light for the Mission
On June 1, reconnaissance aircraft reported the area was clear of enemy forces—the green light was given.
The helicopter commanders conducted a final weather check, but poor visibility over the target area delayed takeoff. A second report from the Meteorological Center confirmed low cloud ceilings at the objective but also assured clear conditions at Río Grande for the return. This finalized the decision to return to Río Grande instead of San Julián, which had also been considered as an alternative.
That morning, preflight checks were completed, and the crews gathered one last time before heading to the aircraft platform, where their helicopters stood ready. Around them, pilots and personnel from various squadrons operating out of Río Grande wished them good luck. The final piece of advice was clear: fly low and be extremely cautious when transitioning from land to sea, as enemy naval units were known to hide in inlets and along irregular coastlines.
Mission Crew Assignments
2-H-233: Lieutenant Commander Osvaldo Iglesias, Lieutenant Oscar Brandeburgo, and Chief Petty Officer Roberto Montani.
2-H-234: Commander Norberto Barro, Lieutenant Commander Guillermo Iglesias, and Petty Officer Second Class Henrique Beltrán Giqueaux.
At 14:17 hours, the two SH-3D Sea Kings lifted off, joined by a Super Puma from the Naval Prefecture. Ten minutes later, the third Sea King (2-H-231) departed for Río Gallegos, where it would remain on standby as a search-and-rescue asset.
2-H-231 Crew: Lieutenant Antonio Urbano, Lieutenant Ricardo Rey, and Petty Officer Second Class José Ponce.
The Super Puma PA-13 had a critical role:
Verifying the functionality of the only VLF OMEGA navigation system installed.
Guiding the SH-3Ds to their pre-designated release point, 120 nautical miles from Río Grande.
Everything proceeded as planned—low altitude, smooth conditions, and maximum cruising speed maintained.
A Critical Malfunction and Freezing Conditions
Shortly into the flight, a strong fuel odor flooded the cabin of 2-H-234. The crew immediately opened the forward windows and partially unlatched the cargo door to allow airflow to clear the vapors. The risk of fire or explosion now became a constant concern. From that moment on, they were forced to fly with the heating system turned off, enduring freezing temperatures for the remainder of the flight.
At 15:24 hours, a Beechcraft B-200 (4-G-44), piloted by Commander Santiago Barrios, took off from Río Grande to provide communications support. Since the helicopters were flying low, radio transmissions were deliberately minimized to avoid enemy detection. The 4-G-44 maintained an orbit at mid-distance between the departure point and the objective, acting as a relay while using deception techniques to mask transmissions.
Despite the extreme conditions, the helicopters pressed forward, flying at 5 meters (16 feet) above the ocean, pushing their airframes beyond their operational limits.
A Dangerous Approach to Malvinas
As they neared the islands, the weather deteriorated—low cloud ceilings, rain, and reduced visibility made navigation more difficult. However, as they closed in, the rain ceased, and the cloud cover began to lift, revealing clear skies and bright sunlight—a disastrous development for a mission dependent on darkness for concealment.
The initial landfall occurred exactly as planned, between San José and San Rafael Islands, southwest of West Malvina. From there, the final approach to the objective began, flying along the terrain contours or skimming the water’s surface to avoid detection.
With visibility still low, the helicopters inadvertently passed over a house, increasing concerns about compromising the mission. They pressed on, crossing San Francisco de Paula Bay, then over the Trinidad, Vigía, and Borbón Islands, finally reaching the Elephant Seal Bay Isthmus, where Naval Aviation units had previously operated.
At 17:25 hours, both SH-3Ds touched down in the middle of the settlement. To avoid the catastrophic risk of engine failure, they kept the rotors turning rather than shutting down completely—especially given the lack of maintenance tools, which could complicate any restart attempt.
Unexpected Delays: A New Threat Emerges
A new problem arose immediately: the officer in charge of the stranded personnel was only expecting one helicopter. This miscommunication delayed refueling operations, a setback further aggravated by the sudden failure of the VLF OMEGA system—the only reliable navigation aid for the return flight.
Without it, the extraction became far more dangerous, particularly during the low-altitude, nighttime departure through a maze of islands and enemy-controlled waters.
The Extraction and a New Crisis
At 18:35 hours, the two Sea Kings lifted off, carrying:
Lieutenant Marcelo Félix Batllori
Chief Petty Officer José Sabat
Chief Petty Officer Rubén Laureiro
Petty Officer Second Class César Bogado
Petty Officer Second Class Federico Leus
Petty Officer Second Class Pablo Chiodini
Petty Officer Second Class Osvaldo Gutiérrez
Petty Officer Second Class Héctor Gauna
Petty Officer Second Class Ricardo Telaina
Corporal First Class Nelson Talone
Corporal Second Class Marcelo Iturbe
Heading northwest, the pilots carefully navigated a pre-planned return route designed to avoid detection and natural obstacles.
However, a catastrophic failure in one of the night vision goggles forced one helicopter to ascend to 300 meters (984 feet) for safety—exposing them to enemy radar detection.
Nearing Isla Blanca, west of Borbón, the worsening weather forced them into instrument flight conditions. Torrential rain lashed against the windshields, while salt deposits from the ocean spray completely obscured visibility. The pilots, unable to rely on their instruments, were forced to lean out of the side windows, using their night vision goggles to navigate through the storm.
Meanwhile, the control aircraft continued attempting radio contact. Unable to break radio silence, the helicopters maintained strict radio discipline, refusing to respond.
After a sufficiently long silence to ensure they were clear, they clicked their microphones once—a signal confirming to Task Group 80.1 that they had successfully lifted off.
Out of the Fire—But Not Yet Home
The most dangerous part of the mission was still ahead. The storm, failing equipment, and exposure to British radar meant their return to Río Grande was anything but certain.
Would they make it back?
Helicóptero Sikorsky S-61D4 Sea King 0678/2-H-234 participante del rescate.(Foto: Archivo MUAN)
The Longest Day: Against All Odds
A Final, Deadly Challenge
As the two Sea Kings made their way back, both helicopters experienced a critical fuel system warning—the fuel filter obstruction alarm lit up, signaling a high risk of imminent engine shutdown. The crews knew they were flying on borrowed time.
British Response: The Enemy Was Watching
Just thirty minutes after takeoff, reports came in from the Marine Infantry personnel who had remained behind on the island:
A section of British Sea Harriers had swept over the extraction site, illuminating the area with flares.
This confirmed the crew’s suspicions—British forces had eyes on them the entire time. There were enemy observers nearby, and the helicopters had narrowly escaped detection.
Navigating Through a Frozen Hell
The return flight was a battle for survival:
Unreliable instruments that malfunctioned intermittently.
Windshields obstructed by frozen salt deposits, forcing the pilots to lean out of the side windows to see.
Icing conditions worsening, despite the Sea Kings not being certified for such environments.
At Río Grande, the Second-in-Command of the Squadron anxiously followed the mission’s progress. A new crisis emerged—dense fog had unexpectedly formed over the airbase.
For a moment, a diversion to Río Gallegos was considered. But the crews pressed on, determined to complete their journey.
Mission Accomplished—But Barely
When the two helicopters finally reached Río Grande at 21:55 hours, they were barely holding together: ✔ No heating—crews frozen to the bone. ✔ No functioning navigation system—they had flown entirely on skill and instinct. ✔ Landing gear malfunctions—risking a dangerous touchdown. ✔ Contaminated fuel—threatening engine shutdown at any moment.
Yet, despite every obstacle, they had done it.
After over seven hours of flying in marginal conditions, they had rescued ten men and lived to tell the tale.
The Impossible Victory
When the war ended, a detailed analysis was conducted at the Naval Air Force No. 2 Training Center, reviewing all operations conducted by the Second Naval Helicopter Squadron—including the Isla Borbón rescue.
Malvinas: The Dramatic Story of the Regiment That Withstood Brutal Isolation and the Dangerous Mission to Resupply Them
They were stationed at Puerto Howard, on West Falkland Island. Resupplying them was an almost impossible task. The soldiers of the 5th Infantry Regiment (RI5) wrote one of the most grueling chapters of the Malvinas/Falklands War. Infobae Docs gathered three veterans who revealed their fierce and uneven battle against an implacable enemy—isolation.
By Adrián Pignatelli || Infobae
The Sea Harrier Shot Down with a 1936-Made Machine Gun. The captured pilot could not believe that he had been downed by such an outdated weapon.
Located on Gran Malvina (West Falkland), Howard was, in 1982, a small port on the San Carlos Strait. A cove provided shelter and allowed ships to dock. The local population was small and primarily engaged in sheep farming and wool shearing, with the final product shipped to Great Britain. The islanders had limited opportunities for development, as the economy assigned married residents a fixed number of sheep, and a single official acted as both the local administrator and the manager of the wool trading company.
It was an extremely remote location where residents stayed informed solely through British radio relays. There was no television, primary school, or secondary school.
This was the site selected for the 5th Infantry Regiment (RI5) to counter a potential enemy landing. This regiment would go down in history as the unit that endured the longest period of isolation during the Malvinas/Falklands War.
On April 25, upon arrival at Port Stanley, RI5 was airlifted to Puerto Howard in three helicopter waves, except for 108 men from Company B, who traveled by ship transporting rations, ammunition, and anti-personnel mines.
Howard was renamed Puerto Yapeyú, as in peacetime, Company C of this regiment was based in the town where General José de San Martín was born.
RI5 Soldiers Boarding in Comodoro Rivadavia for the Airlift to the Malvinas
The soldiers carried a single ration of food. It was imperative to supply them with the necessary provisions, along with heavy weapons and ammunition, to endure the harsh weeks of isolation ahead.
They were still unaware that the resupply would never arrive.
The following day, in Howard, two and a half lambs were purchased from the locals to supplement the soldiers' rations. Meanwhile, in Puerto Argentino, the Monsunen, a 30-meter vessel confiscated from the Falkland Company, set sail at night. It was loaded with ten days' worth of supplies, weapons, and ammunition.
The plan was to skirt the island northward and enter the San Carlos Strait. However, strong winds and tides made this route impossible. The only alternative was the longer and far more dangerous southern route—navigating around the island while avoiding mines laid by the Argentine Navy and knowing that, in broad daylight, they would be completely exposed to enemy aircraft. The mission had to succeed, as on the 27th, food rationing had already begun in Puerto Yapeyú.
That night, the Monsunen was forced to take shelter in a small bay after the radar detected what was possibly a submarine. The ship’s only defenses were two MAG machine guns and two rocket launchers. By midday the next day, the vessel finally managed to dock at the pier in Puerto Yapeyú.
Alberto Miñones Carrión: Severely Wounded in Malvinas, Lost a Leg—“It Is a Special Honor to Have Been Part of This Campaign”(Santiago Saferstein)
At the time, Alberto Miñones Carrión was a young second lieutenant. He was in charge of the Support Section of Company A, RI5, and his unit was reinforced with two Colt 12.7 mm machine guns. He recalled, “From the moment we arrived, we knew resupply would be difficult—to the point that the provisions we expected the next day never arrived. As the days went by, the situation worsened, and with the arrival of more personnel, it became truly critical.”
The occupation of the area was gradual. Initially, a 130-man company was deployed. Later, the regiment’s other two infantry companies, along with two engineer sections and medical personnel, arrived—bringing the total to nearly 800 men.
The Isla de los Estados: Attacked While Carrying Supplies for the Troops—Only Two of 25 Crew Members Survived
On the night of May 10, the frigate HMS Alacrity attacked the transport ship Isla de los Estados in the middle of the San Carlos Strait, as it was en route to Puerto Yapeyú carrying supplies and weapons.
Of the 25 crew members, only two survived.
Hours later, Argentine troops discovered squash floating near the shore—part of the ship’s lost cargo. These were mashed and added to the regiment’s already scarce rations.
Hugo Gargano, Quartermaster Second Lieutenant During the War: “We Had Only Two Field Kitchens for 150 Men” (Santiago Saferstein)
"Cooking a lamb was a challenge since we had to use peat as fuel, which has very low caloric value. On top of that, we only had two field kitchens for 150 men. But the ingenuity and skill of the quartermaster personnel led us to clean out 200-liter fuel drums, and that’s how we ended up eating lamb stew with a hint of fuel taste. Heating those drums was extremely difficult, and fires had to remain extinguished for most of the day," explained Hugo Gargano, Quartermaster Second Lieutenant of Regiment 5, the unit’s only officer in that specialty.
When supply issues worsened, Gargano was in Puerto Argentino, trying to find a way to reach Gran Malvina. The RI5 commander, Colonel Juan Ramón Mabragaña, persistently requested a Quartermaster officer from the III Infantry Brigade’s commander.
"I asked every day to go to Howard," Gargano told Infobae. "On the 21st, I ran into a major who told me, ‘You have no idea how much your regiment commander is asking for you,’ but we couldn’t coordinate my transport."
Today, Juan Ramón Mabragaña, Surrounded by His Soldiers, Who Recognize “A Leader Who Cared for His Men”
"The next day, they came to pick me up in a vehicle. 'You have 15 minutes to be at Moody Brook and board a helicopter heading to Howard with supplies, weapons, and ammunition,' they told me."Hugo Gargano reported to Major Roberto Yanzi from Army Aviation.
At that moment, he had no idea he was about to embark on a journey he would never forget.
Flying to Howard
Major Roberto Yanzi was the second-in-command of the 601st Combat Aviation Battalion. He had arrived in the islands on April 7. He explained, “We had to make the most of the flight. We loaded ammunition, mortars, and medical supplies. We also took two soldiers from Regiment 5. Three Puma helicopters would fly, with an Augusta in the rear for escort, armed for protection.”
Before takeoff, Yanzi gathered the crews and briefed them on the mission. “I listened as they spoke—we were about to embark on a high-risk flight, as the day before, the British had landed at San Carlos. The 7 or 8 minutes it would take to cross the strait would be crucial.”
The mission launched on May 22.
A stopover was always made at Goose Green, where Task Force Mercedes had a garrison. However, upon arrival, the helicopters were forced to remain grounded—Sea Harriers were constantly patrolling overhead.
Yanzi knew that flying under those conditions meant taking an extreme risk.
Roberto Yanzi, Army Aviation: “When We Reached Howard, We Celebrated Because We Were All Still Alive”(Santiago Saferstein)
"The memory of the downing of AE 505 on May 9 was still fresh, when First Lieutenants Roberto Fiorito and Juan Carlos Buschiazzo, along with Sergeant Raúl Dimotta, lost their lives. Additionally, Army Aviation faced a serious limitation: fuel shortages," recalled Major Roberto Yanzi.
The weather conditions were also poor, with constant fog and mist. “At 10:30 on the 23rd, we took off, flying just one meter above the ground to avoid detection by enemy radar and maintaining radio silence. When we reached the strait, we saw the Río Carcarañá billowing smoke” (the vessel had been disabled by two Sea Harriers on May 16).
“It’s an Honor to Die with You”
As they were about to finish crossing the strait, the armed escort helicopter issued a warning:
“Aircraft! Aircraft! Hit the deck!”
Two Sea Harriers were approaching. The first helicopter was piloted by First Lieutenant Hugo Pérez Cometto, the second by First Lieutenant Enrique Magnaghi, and the third by Major Roberto Yanzi, who later recounted to Infobae:
The Arrival of the Río Carcarañá Crew
"Pérez Cometto, in an outstanding maneuver, managed to evade the enemy aircraft, while Magnaghi and I crossed the channel and landed. Almost immediately, I saw a fireball coming from Magnaghi’s helicopter, which had flipped over—he had lost control as the aircraft spun on its axis. At the same time, the Sea Harriers opened fire on me with their 30mm cannons, hitting the tail of my helicopter, which still had its rotors spinning. That’s when I ordered Gargano to disembark as fast as possible."
"It was a moment of intense adrenaline. I opened the hatch, jumped out first… we ran and threw ourselves flat on the ground as the Sea Harriers strafed us," recalled Gargano.
The three of them lay prone as enemy rounds impacted all around them. At that moment, Yanzi spoke:
"Take my hand, don’t look back—it’s an honor to die in war with you."
"That’s when I fully realized the situation we were in. Once the aircraft had passed, we ran and moved away from the helicopter," the officer recounted.
Yanzi had no idea what had happened to the rest of the crews until he heard the distinctive whistle of Private Elvio Nis, a skilled tracker from Paso de los Libres, which helped reunite the personnel.
"You can imagine our joy when we realized that not a single crew member had died. Magnaghi had a fractured clavicle, and Godino, one of the mechanics, had suffered a severe head injury," Yanzi explained.
"We Were All Alive"
Determined to complete the mission, Yanzi burned his Puma AE 500 to prevent it from falling into British hands, salvaging only the machine gun. The remaining crews and part of the cargo were loaded onto the only operational helicopter—Pérez Cometto’s Puma.
They took off, hoping to avoid enemy aircraft en route to Howard, as Radio Colonia had reported that three helicopters had already been shot down by Harriers.
Yanzi recalled, "When we arrived, it was an overwhelming joy. We hugged each other—we were all alive."
On the morning of May 26, the helicopter crews embarked on the risky return flight to Puerto Argentino, departing at 0500 hours. They transported members of Compañía Comando and a captain who had ejected from his aircraft.
"It was a gamble," admitted Yanzi. "We were packed in tight. We flew at extremely low altitude and managed to land. Without realizing it, we had just completed the last flight to Gran Malvina."
Years later, Gargano connected via social media with one of the Sea Harrier pilots, David Morgan, who had long wondered about the fate of the Puma crews. "He felt great relief upon learning that we had survived," Gargano shared.
Fighting in Howard
Now retired Lieutenant Colonel Miñones described the precarious situation the regiment faced in the event of a British attack:
"The heavy equipment couldn’t be transported. We lacked artillery pieces. When we crossed, I managed to bring short-range 81mm mortars, which served as our heavy weaponry for a long time. That’s why we kept requesting 120mm mortars. The 4th Artillery Battery never arrived."
RI5 Soldiers in a Trench at Puerto Howard
They had to fight with whatever was available.
Using Colt 12.7mm machine guns manufactured in 1936, they managed to shoot down a Sea Harrier and repel an attack from a Sea King helicopter. Miñones recalled, "When we captured the pilot, he told us he felt a rain of bullets striking the fuselage; he couldn’t believe we had taken him down with that machine gun."
Gravely Wounded
On the night of May 27, Miñones was severely wounded. He survived to tell the story.
*"A shell from a frigate conducting exploratory fire hit me while I was at the bottom of a trench. I was between First Lieutenant Daniel Stella and Orderly Soldier Felipe Fernández. The blast threw me 20 meters, flipping me in the air before I landed on my back, arms crossed over my chest. I entrusted myself to the Virgin Mary and prayed an Ave María, thinking I was dying.
In the darkness, I reached for my right leg—it was still there. When I checked the left, I felt a bare bone. I felt no pain. That’s when I realized I was alive and had another chance."*
During that same attack, soldiers Fernando Damián Francolino, Francisco Manuel Machado, and Ricardo Manuel Herrera were also wounded.
The Rescue of British Lieutenant Jeff Glover After Ejecting
"I was evacuated to a very rudimentary field hospital, run by Major Dr. Reale, a brilliant trauma surgeon. In addition to my leg wound, I had a puncture in my hip and another in my chest. With the limited supplies he had, he operated on me and sutured my femoral artery."
Given the severity of his injuries, a rapid evacuation would have been the norm, but Miñones recounted:
"For ten days, I lay on a wooden door propped up on two apple crates. There were no painkillers, no plaster, yet the doctors managed to make do."
Jeff Glover’s Arrival at Puerto Howard
On May 29, it snowed for the first time in Puerto Yapeyú. The temperature dropped to -18°C, and the overall condition of the troops was critical.
"Those days were terrible. The wounded were housed in a wooden shack that shook with every bombardment. I felt completely exposed since I couldn't move. As shrapnel pierced the wooden walls—on one occasion, two fragments passed right by my head—I asked my comrade, Eduardo Gassino, for a helmet."
But Miñones’ hardships didn’t end there.
"Food was extremely scarce, and due to my condition, I couldn’t eat lamb. It was Eduardo Gassino who, every day, brought me a sort of broth with bustard meat—a local bird—using an empty soda can."
Finally, on June 6, he was evacuated to the Bahía Paraíso, which had been converted into a hospital ship. Also evacuated were soldiers Exequiel Vargas, Eduardo Rubiolo, Mariano Leiva, and Fernando Francolino.
The Hospital Ship Bahía Paraíso
"When I arrived on the mainland, I weighed 42 kilos, down from my normal 68. I hadn’t even realized how much weight I had lost. I needed to recover before undergoing a major surgery. For two months, my prognosis was poor due to an infection in my leg, but I was given another chance—and I survived."
Both Gargano and Miñones hold Colonel Juan Ramón Mabragaña, their regimental commander, in the highest regard.
"He stood out for his humility and prudence, for the precision of his decisions. Beyond the war, he was a model soldier and a remarkable person. He took veterans’ needs seriously—securing jobs, medicine, and even medical evacuations, often out of his own pocket. He reaped what he sowed."
The three veterans also paid tribute to the 23 crew members of the Isla de los Estados, who died while attempting to deliver supplies.
What Does Malvinas Mean?
For Yanzi: “A feeling and a great pride to have been part of it.”
For Gargano: “It remains a daily battle—to ensure recognition for the veterans who fought there.”
For Miñones: “It is a very special honor to have participated in this campaign and to have lost a leg. It helps me emotionally. What I carry deep inside—and hope to pass on to my children—is something that changed my life for the better.”
In 1825, the government of the Empire of Brazil, after claiming that the United Provinces of the Río de la Plata supported the landing of the Thirty-Three Orientals, reinforced its troops in the Eastern Province and declared all the ports of the United Provinces blockaded. Consequently, on November 4, 1825, General Juan Gregorio de Las Heras declared diplomatic relations with Brazil broken and immediately afterward the Empire declared war on December 10, 1825, which lasted three years.
For its part, the government of Buenos Aires concentrated an army corps on the coast of Uruguay under the orders of General Martín Rodríguez; it had some batteries built on the Paraná under the direction of Major Martiniano Chilavert, and entrusted Colonel Guillermo Brown with the command of a small fleet, which was increased a few months later by a subscription of wealthy citizens. This last measure was all the more urgent because the Empire dominated the rivers of La Plata, Uruguay and Paraná, because it had fortified the Colony and Martín García and because it enforced the blockade with a powerful fleet.
And while attention was focused on the rivers that bordered on the Argentine side what, in all likelihood, would be the theatre of war, the Empire was preparing an invasion on the southern coast of Buenos Aires and working in its favour the spirit of some Indian chieftains who had remained in a war mood since the last expedition of General Rodríguez. Aware of this, the government hastened to combine this double danger that could reduce the territory of Buenos Aires to the most difficult extremes.
The actions
The imperials were not happier on the rivers, even though they claimed to be the owners of the Plata and its tributaries. In the last days of May 1826, the Argentine brig Balcarce, the schooners Sarandí, Pepa and Río, two gunboats and two transports, had made their way to Las Conchillas, where forces from the army of operations were disembarking. To avenge this failure, the imperial squadron, composed of 30 ships, approached Los Pozos at noon on June 11, where part of the Argentine fleet was anchored, namely: four cruise ships and seven gunboats. Admiral Guillermo Brown received them with a well-sustained fire. After fifteen minutes the imperial ships turned south. Ten thousand spectators witnessed this battle from the Buenos Aires harbour, until the afternoon when the ships returning from the Eastern Bank joined Brown and the imperials were out of cannon range.
These naval advantages contrasted with the inertia of the imperial army. The same was true of the Argentine army, although this was attributed to the last arrangements made by General Las Heras to go and command it in chief. And perhaps for this reason he resigned from the provisional government he held, and insisted on his resignation, urging Congress to establish a permanent national executive. In the need to replace General Las Heras, Congress created the Executive Power by law of February 6, 1826 and by unanimous vote minus three of its members named Bernardino Rivadavia president of the United Provinces.
Martín Pescador was an anti-ship missile developed by CITEFA (the Scientific and Technical Research Institute of the Argentine Armed Forces) since the early 1970s.
The first evaluations were carried out in 1983 from T-28 Trojan aircraft, and the first shot was carried out by Captain Castro Fox in an aircraft of that type modified to be able to operate the missile. This is a remote-controlled air-to-surface missile. After visually identifying its target, the pilot activates a control in his cockpit, with which he must radio-control the missile during its flight. To assist him in seeing the missile, it has two coloured flares at the rear. The pilot must control the missile visually and compensate for any deviation that may occur until reaching its target.
This guidance system has similar characteristics to the American Martin AGM-7 Bullpup missile. Despite the training required to operate the missile and the aircraft at the same time, the guidance system is really simple and can be mounted on a wide variety of aircraft. It has been successfully used on the T-28 Trojan and the Aermacchi MB-326 of the Argentine Navy, and on the I.A. 58 Pucará of the Argentine Air Force. It can also be used from helicopters in hovering flight, for which a wire-guided version was developed.
After being withdrawn from service in the late 1990s, the missiles were transferred back to CITEFA to contribute to the development of the improved CITEFA AS-25K.
Type Air-to-surface guided anti-ship missile Service history In service 1983 to 1990 Production history Manufacturer CITEFA
Specifications
Weight 140 kg Length 295 cm Diameter 22 cm Effective range 19 km (11 mi) Wingspan 75 cm Guidance system Radio
