Malvinas: The use of cluster bomb by the British forces

The Myth of British Illegality in the Use of Hunting Engineering BL755 Cluster Bombs

During the 1982 Malvinas War, the British invading forces made use of the Hunting Engineering BL755 cluster bomb—a weapon not equipped with anti-personnel charges, but with shaped charges intended to destroy material targets. As such, its use was permitted under international law. Any cluster bomb designed to destroy enemy hardware—be it aircraft, tanks or ships—can be lawfully employed, and continues to be used by many militaries without violating any existing international conventions.

In contrast, cluster munitions such as the French-made Belouga BLG-66 from MATRA, designed to disperse shrapnel specifically to injure or kill human beings, are clearly prohibited. Such bombs were not used by the British in the Malvinas theatre.

That a blast-fragmentation anti-materiel bomb may wound or kill personnel as collateral damage does not make it an anti-personnel weapon per se. This distinction is crucial. Dum-dum bullets or Claymore-type mines—favoured tools of extremist Castro-Guevarist factions that waged genocidal campaigns against Argentina between 1959 and 1990—are examples of explicitly anti-personnel munitions.

The BL755, produced in the United Kingdom, was originally conceived as an anti-tank cluster bomb to counter the overwhelming numerical advantage of Warsaw Pact armoured units over NATO. It contains 147 high-explosive anti-tank (HEAT) submunitions, each housed in a pre-fragmented casing that releases approximately 1,400 shards upon detonation. Naturally, these can cause harm to any individual within their effective radius—but that does not qualify them as illegal anti-personnel weapons. For comparison, a single Belouga can release over 200,000 lethal fragments.

To be clear: the use of a BL755 bomb, dispersing 147 submunitions that may each produce around 1,400 fragments, aimed at disabling enemy material across a broad zone of impact, cannot reasonably be equated with a weapon designed solely to maim or kill personnel. The intent and design of the weapon matter under international law.

Yet, ironically, Argentina did possess such anti-personnel cluster bombs in its arsenal—specifically the Belouga BLG-66, supplied by France and seen post-war mounted on aircraft such as the A-4C and Alpha Jet. These were acquired alongside Mirage IIIEA/DA fighters, originally for air superiority roles. The Belougas were tested and operational across several Argentine aircraft, including the A-4B/C and the Super Étendard. There is no confirmed information on whether they were adapted for use in the IA-58A Pucará or the Navy’s A-4Q. Still, Argentine commanders chose not to employ these weapons during the conflict.

In fact, even though Argentine forces had access to incendiary Napalm bombs—deployed on the Malvinas themselves—these too were not used against enemy troops, despite their obvious anti-personnel effects.

For Argentine soldiers subjected to these British weapons, the legality or ethics of their use were of little concern in the moment. A single fragment could wound, mutilate, or kill—but those same soldiers would have employed such weapons without hesitation had it meant surviving or gaining an upper hand. And still, despite possessing bombs with greater destructive power than those used by the British, Argentina chose restraint—out of adherence to the laws of war and a deeply human sense of morality, even in the inhuman context of battle.

Some claim Britain crossed into illegality—not due to the raw power of its bombs, but in the tactical method of their use. The sheer lethality of 147 submunitions and over 200,000 potential fragments raining down on an Argentine infantry company is known only to those who lived it. But the difference between that and a Belouga’s 198,600 extra fragments—a 1,430% increase in destructive capability—puts the argument of proportionality into sharp perspective.

It’s also true that no formal declaration of war was ever issued by either side. The conflict unfolded in fact, not in law, with both nations operating in murky legal waters. Nonetheless, both Argentina and the UK largely respected the humanitarian norms of armed engagement, barring isolated abuses triggered by the brutal chaos of close combat.

Had this been a total war—like the Second World War, Korea, Vietnam, the Gulf, or Yugoslavia—different thresholds of legitimacy and restraint would likely have applied to both sides.

The Hunting Engineering BL755, developed in the early 1970s with a standard weight of 264 kg, a length of 2.45 m, and a diameter of 419 mm, was manufactured in several variants (BL755, IBL755, RBL755). Beyond the Malvinas, it was also used in the Gulf War and the conflict in the former Yugoslavia by Britain and Germany (now withdrawn from service), and reportedly by Iran, Serbia (possibly reverse-engineered), and India—still in service today on aircraft such as the MiG-27, Jaguar, Sea Harrier, and possibly the MiG-29, HAL Tejas, and Su-30.

To Argentine Malvinas War Veterans, the BL755 remains a haunting symbol of destruction. Though no longer in production, its legacy is etched into the memories of those who faced it. And it remains a testament to the resilience, sacrifice, and moral clarity of Argentine forces, who fought with dignity—even as shadows fell over the South Atlantic skies.

Malvinas: Aerolíneas Argentinas' Secret Cargo Operations

Did You Know This Story?

43 years ago, Aerolíneas Argentinas flew covert missions to bring weapons home for the Malvinas War.

Their pilots and cabin crews accumulated acts of courage and solidarity that continue to make Argentines proud across generations. In 1982, seven of them undertook a daring secret operation to Israel, Libya, and South Africa to retrieve weapons that would later be used in the defence of our sovereignty during the Malvinas conflict.

As the war unfolded, they flew to the islands, to Río Gallegos, and to Comodoro Rivadavia—transporting soldiers, supplies, and equipment, without fanfare, but with a fierce commitment to their country.

For years, this story circulated in whispers and half-truths. But in 2012, the veil was lifted. The seven pilots—Gezio Bresciani, Ramón Arce, Leopoldo Arias, Juan Carlos Ardalla, Jorge Prelooker, Mario Bernard, and Luis Cuniberti—broke their silence and recounted the clandestine flights to the Middle East in what came to be known as Operación Aerolíneas.

The Boeing 707s flew a total of six missions: two to Israel and four to Libya. Every single one of them was carried out in radio silence, with all navigational lights switched off. "The aircraft couldn’t be a trail in the sky—it had to be a ghost," one of the pilots recalled.

When entering radar zones was unavoidable, they gave false positions. At the time, NATO satellites and the Western intelligence networks swept across the Atlantic with a ruthless gaze. For the British, the entire ocean was a theatre of war—any unidentified or suspicious aircraft was at risk of being intercepted or shot down.

After 2 April, an order came down from the top brass at the Edificio Cóndor: civilian aircraft and their crews were to serve the Armed Forces’ High Command. Pilots were summoned one by one, told only that their country needed them—and they answered without hesitation.



“When someone tells you your country is at war, and that you can help—well, you don’t think twice,”
said Bresciani in 2012, then 71, recalling the string of secret missions to distant lands in search of arms.

This chapter in our history—bold, silent, and patriotic—is a reminder that Argentines have always stood ready to defend their homeland, not just with weapons, but with resolve, unity, and honour in the skies.

April, the 2nd: The Landing Experience of the Argentine Marines

Lived Experiences During the South Atlantic War 

Account by 𝘑𝘶𝘢𝘯 𝘊𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘰𝘴 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪 – 𝘛𝘕𝘐𝘔 𝘝𝘎𝘔 (𝘙)



Malvinas 1982

Landing and Seizure of the Beachhead

It was 04:00 on the 2nd of April 1982 when reveille was sounded. I remember waking up and heading to the bathroom to take a shower and put on the new combat uniform I had packed in my rucksack, which I had brought especially for what I considered the most glorious day of my military career. I was going into combat to fulfil the oath I had made to our flag on 20th June 1974: to defend it with my life if necessary!

Boarding time for the Amphibious Tracked Vehicles (ATVs) was 05:45, and so we did – in order, in silence (despite the commands that could be heard).
At 06:00, the first four ATVs, under the command of CCIM Hugo Jorge Santillán, set off. Among that initial wave was our fellow graduate TCIM Carlos Ramón Schweizer.

I disembarked from the Command ATV, which was led by the Commander of BIM2 and Commander of Task Force 40.1, CFIM Alfredo Raúl Weinstabl. The initial leg of the crossing to the landing beach was made with the ATV hatches sealed shut. For those who have never landed in an amphibious vehicle, it's important to understand that such an approach under those conditions is highly dangerous. Had British forces had the opportunity to open fire on us, we would have become sitting ducks, and many of us would likely have ended up in the cold waters of the South Atlantic, given that the amphibious vehicles we were travelling in were not armoured.

Just before we reached the beach, the top hatches were opened, allowing us to peek out and see the tracer fire streaking through the darkness (it was still night at that hour), clear evidence that fighting had already begun ashore. Naturally, my blood was racing in anticipation of making landfall and entering combat. Fear: NONE. Uncertainty: COMPLETE.



We finally landed without suffering any casualties among personnel or vehicles.
We immediately advanced towards the airport at what was then still Port Stanley. There was no enemy resistance, but we observed that the runway was blocked by vehicles and other obstacles, which would have prevented any aircraft from landing. The Commander gave the order to clear it. Just then, we received word that the vehicles under CCIM Santillán had come under enemy fire. One had been hit multiple times by machine-gun fire, and a conscript had sustained a minor shrapnel wound to the hand.

CFIM Weinstabl promptly ordered the driver of the Command ATV to head towards that position, accompanied by Delta Company under TNIM Di Paola.
We reached the forward position and dismounted from the amphibious vehicles. At this moment, I recall an anecdote involving Carlos Schweizer: as we dismounted, I saw Carlos standing and adjusting the heels of his conscripts to prevent a common wartime injury – being hit in the heels due to improper prone positioning. I shouted at him, “Bizcocho, get down, they’re shooting at us!” He turned around laughing and obeyed. I then told him, “Those recoilless rifles from Di Filippo (SSIM and Head of BIM2’s Recoilless Rifles) are making quite a racket!” To which he replied, “That’s the English mortars firing at us.”
At that moment, I thought, “You die in war without even realising it.” What I had assumed were our own cannons turned out to be enemy fire.

A key shot from one of our recoilless rifles forced the British troops to retreat into the settlement.



The forward elements remounted the vehicles and moved to support the Amphibious Commandos in Moody Brook. However, those forces had already completed their mission and were near Port Stanley from the opposite direction of the BIM2 advance, so Captain Santillán continued his operation to secure the Camber Peninsula.

Meanwhile, the Battalion Companies entered the town without resistance, took control of their designated responsibility zones, and established full control over the population and essential public services.
As we moved into the urban area of Port Stanley, we came under sniper fire. We quickly hit the ground, and I noticed a window where a curtain was being moved by the wind. I requested permission from Captain Weinstabl to return fire at that location, but, in accordance with the initial directive to recover the Islands without bloodshed, he denied my request.

The incident did not repeat, and we resumed our advance, eventually reaching a location where the Commander gathered the Officers of the vanguard. I realised we were in front of a two-storey building that looked like a gymnasium.
Considering that Royal Marines might be hiding inside, I requested permission to search it. Captain Weinstabl authorised me to enter with TCIM Gazzolo and two NCOs.

We entered the building and saw that to access the first floor there were two side staircases. I told Gazzolo to take the right flank with one of the NCOs, and I took the left with the other.




We advanced carefully, given our exposed position, and reached a room where we found five Royal Marines who had apparently surrendered – their five Sterling submachine guns lay on a table with their magazines removed – along with a female police officer.

We conducted a standard search of the British soldiers but did not touch the female officer.
After verifying that the soldiers had no other weapons, they were placed under guard and prepared for transfer to the Prisoner Collection Point (PRP).

But the biggest surprise came when we opened the door to a larger hall and discovered Argentine civilians who had been imprisoned there.
We freed them and sent the prisoners to the PRP.

Malvinas: A Struggle for Sovereignty and Dignity

The Malvinas War: Forty Years On—A Struggle for Sovereignty and Dignity

By Manuel Remira Oyón| Reflections | 14 May 2025

Preface

As a Chilean, writing about the Malvinas War is no small undertaking, especially given the historical tensions between Chile and Argentina. In April 1982, when Argentina reclaimed the Malvinas Islands—territory unquestionably part of its continental shelf and its sovereign rights—Chile’s military regime under Pinochet chose the wrong side of history, aligning itself with Britain and providing covert support to the colonial power. This shameful episode underscored the deep divisions sowed by dictatorship and the betrayal of Latin American unity in the face of imperialism.

It must be clear: the complicity of Pinochet’s regime in undermining Argentina’s rightful claim does not reflect the will of the Chilean people, who have long harboured a sense of solidarity with their Argentine brothers and sisters in their quest to end the last vestiges of colonial rule in our region.

A Fight Rooted in Principle

The Malvinas War was not a random clash, nor was it a folly of the moment. It was the culmination of nearly 150 years of Argentina’s steadfast insistence on the return of territory that had been seized by force. The Malvinas were recognised as part of Spanish South America, and after Argentina’s independence, as part of its national territory. Britain's occupation in 1833 was a flagrant act of imperial aggression, displacing Argentine settlers and establishing an outpost that has remained, to this day, a colonial relic.

This was not a marginal grievance. The Malvinas became a symbol of Argentina’s ongoing struggle for sovereignty and self-determination—a cause enshrined in international law and recognised by numerous United Nations resolutions calling for dialogue and resolution between the two parties. The islands’ strategic location in the South Atlantic and their proximity to Antarctica have always been of immense geopolitical significance, a fact long obscured by those who dismiss the conflict as over “barren rocks.”

The injustice of colonial occupation weighed heavily on the Argentine people, who, regardless of the shifting sands of political leadership, never relinquished their claim. The 1982 conflict, therefore, was not merely a military manoeuvre but the physical manifestation of a centuries-old demand for justice.

The Dictatorship’s Double Crime

It is undeniable that Argentina’s military dictatorship was a brutal regime, responsible for grave human rights violations. But the Malvinas cause stands apart from the crimes of the junta. The junta’s opportunistic timing—seizing on a noble cause to shore up its crumbling legitimacy—should never be confused with the righteousness of Argentina’s claim. If anything, the dictatorship’s mishandling of the conflict and its betrayal of the soldiers it sent to war only deepened Argentina’s national trauma.

Thousands of young conscripts, many from impoverished provinces in northern Argentina, were sent ill-prepared and under-equipped into battle. These were not seasoned soldiers; they were boys thrust into the freezing winds of the South Atlantic, bearing the weight of their nation’s hopes and the burden of their leaders’ incompetence. Their courage, in the face of overwhelming odds, was nothing short of heroic.

The British forces, equipped with superior technology and backed by one of the world’s most powerful navies, faced fierce resistance. The Argentine Air Force, despite limited resources, mounted daring attacks that resulted in significant British losses—ships sunk, aircraft destroyed, and lives lost. These victories on the battlefield were a testament to the valour and resilience of Argentine forces, who fought not for conquest but for liberation.

A War That Echoed Far Beyond the Battlefield

The consequences of the Malvinas War extended well beyond its 74 days of combat. For Argentina, the war precipitated the fall of the dictatorship and the return to democracy—a profound transformation that reshaped the nation’s trajectory. For Britain, it reinvigorated a government facing domestic unpopularity, entrenching policies of neoliberal austerity that would have lasting repercussions.

Yet the most enduring legacy is the wound that remains open: the unresolved sovereignty dispute. Decades on, the British government continues to maintain its colonial hold over the Malvinas, defying international calls for negotiation and dialogue. The islanders' right to self-determination, often cited by London, must be understood within the context of a population settled by the colonial power itself, a factor that complicates but does not nullify Argentina’s legitimate claim.

Honouring the Fallen and the Forgotten

The soldiers who returned from the Malvinas—victims of both war and neglect—were met not with the honour they deserved, but with silence and marginalisation. Many have since succumbed to the invisible wounds of war, their struggles largely ignored by successive governments. It is estimated that hundreds of veterans have taken their own lives, a silent testament to the deep scars left by the conflict.

The sacrifice of these men demands remembrance, not only as a chapter in Argentina’s history but as a reminder of the broader fight against colonialism. Their courage stands as a rebuke to the complacency of the international community, which has too often turned a blind eye to the persistence of imperial claims in our hemisphere.

The Path Forward

The Malvinas question is far from resolved. While military conflict must never again be the means, Argentina’s claim remains as valid today as it was in 1833. The road to justice lies in persistent diplomacy, international advocacy, and the unwavering resolve of the Argentine people to see their sovereign rights respected.

To dismiss the Malvinas as a relic of the past is to ignore the living legacy of colonialism—a legacy that continues to shape geopolitics in the South Atlantic and beyond. The cause of the Malvinas is not merely Argentina’s cause; it is the cause of all who stand for sovereignty, self-determination, and the end of imperial dominion.

Forty years on, the memory of the Malvinas War endures as a solemn reminder of what was lost and what remains to be reclaimed. It is a testament to a nation's dignity—a dignity that no war, no defeat, and no occupation can extinguish.

Operation Fingent: The United Kingdom “sells” radar to Chile to spy on Argentine flights

Operation Fingent: the radar the British sold to Chile to spy on Argentine movements during the Malvinas War

In a rushed move, Great Britain devised plans to detect the aircraft taking off from Argentina’s mainland air bases — a reminder of how, even in wartime, they were willing to involve neighbouring countries to monitor and undermine Argentine efforts in defending the Malvinas.

Based on Mariano P. Sciaroni || Infobae





As the British fleet set sail toward the Malvinas, the British high command was well aware it would face a serious problem if confronted by Argentina’s Air Force and Naval Aviation. At that time, the Royal Navy was designed to operate in the North Atlantic, under the protection of aerial cover and early warning systems provided both by the British Royal Air Force (RAF) and the U.S. Navy.

Operating outside that zone, with only the limited number of carrier-based aircraft aboard the Invincible and Hermes, the British would lack the advance warning needed to ready their missiles and position interceptors to counter any aerial threat.

Without such anticipation, every Argentine attack would effectively become a surprise, detected only when it was already mere miles from its target — something the British simply could not afford.

In a scramble, they rushed to design plans to detect the aircraft taking off from Argentina’s mainland air bases. The core idea was that no plane should be able to lift off from Argentine soil without being noticed, giving the British fleet at least 45 minutes’ warning of an incoming airstrike — just enough time to call a “Yellow Alert” for planes in the air and prepare for bombs or missiles.

First, special forces (possibly the famed Special Air Service) would be deployed on the continent to report movements at the Río Grande, Río Gallegos, and Comodoro Rivadavia bases (this fell under the so-called “Operation Shutter”; the commandos were only present from late May to early June, and it remains a mystery how they got there or how they left, as details on the matter are still classified).



Naval Station “Almirante Hermes Quijada” in Río Grande, Tierra del Fuego, during the war

They also considered that nuclear submarines would approach the Argentine coast to report on aerial movements, detecting them either through their periscopes or with electronic surveillance equipment.

Finally, arrangements were made with the “friendly” Chilean Air Force, whose Thomson-CSF radar located near Punta Arenas would provide alerts about takeoffs from Ushuaia, Río Grande, and Río Gallegos.

However, there remained a large gap: the entire province of Chubut and the Comodoro Rivadavia base were beyond radar coverage. That was a serious problem.

Luckily for the British, Wing Commander Sidney Edwards, the Royal Air Force’s delegate in Chile, had already secured from General Fernando Matthei, commander of the Chilean Air Force, a “blank check” to move forward in solving such inconveniences.

But the Chileans had no radar stationed there — nor did they have a mobile radar system.

To overcome this, the British had to urgently sell them a radar. The operation was quickly agreed upon: the price was set at under one British pound (and, for the same token, they also received six Hawker Hunter fighter jets, three Canberra bombers, and anti-aircraft missiles). An entire air force for less than 60 Argentine pesos at today’s exchange rate — a bargain, to put it mildly.

With political approval secured, the military phase began moving. Thus, the so-called “Operation Fingent” was designed and took shape. It was decided that the radar to be transferred (or rather, sold) would be a Marconi S259 transportable unit, part of the British Royal Air Force’s Mobile Reserve.


A S259 radar operating at RAF Saxa Vord in the 70s in the Shetland Islands, North Scotland. Possibly this very same radar has been sold to Chile in 1982,

The radar would be accompanied by a so-called “sales team” — which, in reality, was nothing more than British Royal Air Force military personnel dressed in civilian clothes, tasked with operating the radar and training the supposed new “owners.”

This “sales team” was made up of four officers and seven non-commissioned officers, who would carry no weapons and would formally be working under the Chilean armed forces. They were instructed to buy warm civilian clothing and ensure their passports were in order. They were also informed that their mission was absolutely secret and that they were to behave at all times as civilian contractors.

They were forbidden from speaking about this matter to anyone — neither in Great Britain nor in Chile.

The deployment location was ultimately decided by General Matthei: it would be set up in Balmaceda, positioned at the latitude of Comodoro Rivadavia, and would be protected by the Chilean Army. A strategic spot, ideal for monitoring Argentine movements.

With the mission in place, on May 5, 1982, a Boeing 747 from the Flying Tigers airline departed RAF Brize Norton (not far from London), loaded with the radar equipment and personnel, heading for Santiago de Chile. The route included a stop in San Juan, Puerto Rico, making it a long journey.

Upon landing, a military transport plane — a C-130 Hercules — appeared to carry them to their final destination. The issue was that this aircraft bore camouflage very similar to British military planes, and painted on its fuselage were the words FUERZA AREA (not AÉREA) DE CHILE — in short, it was a British plane.

A British plane, carrying British military personnel and British radar, to just a few kilometers from the Argentine border.

A Chilean C-130 Hercules and another from the British Royal Air Force (RAF) wait on the tarmac, photographed from an RAF VC-10. The photo was taken on April 24, 1982, on Easter Island (Chile).

Soon after, the radar reached its final destination and was swiftly installed. The British put it to good use, while Chilean troops guarded the area to prevent any issues.

The information gathered by the radar was securely transmitted to the headquarters of the Chilean Air Force’s intelligence service. From there, a special British team operating a satellite communication system would relay the data to their fleet.

It was a well-oiled system that ultimately worked very effectively — and, as mentioned earlier, it was complemented by reports from ground commandos, another radar, and finally the nuclear submarines near the coast (for example, the submarine HMS Valiant, operating near Río Grande, alone provided 300 alerts of aircraft in the air).

When it was all over, as General Matthei later explained, “we kept the radars, the missiles, and the planes, and they were satisfied because they received the information they needed on time. The deal was over, and Sidney Edwards was dismissed the next day.”

“Argentina has its back well covered,” said Sergio Onofre Jarpa, Chile’s ambassador in Buenos Aires, not long before. A peculiar statement, considering that right in the middle of Argentina’s back, a British radar was operating — helping foreign forces monitor and strike at Argentine defenses in the Malvinas.

Malvinas: The Real British Casualties and Why the Secret?

The Malvinas/Falklands: Why Will British Casualty Figures Remain Classified Until 14 June 2072?

At the end of the Malvinas/Falklands War, the British government enacted a military secrecy order effective until 14 June 2072—a period of 90 years. Until that date, anyone who discloses or publishes any information contained within that classified material will face appropriate prosecution before a court martial.

This is not merely a preliminary form of censorship but a clear instance of state-imposed secrecy for national security reasons.

So far, no substantial details regarding the contents of the secrecy order have emerged, but it is widely believed that one of its main points concerns the significant loss of life suffered by the United Kingdom during the conflict. There are also suggestions that it includes records of considerable losses of military vehicles—both naval and aerial. A large part of Britain’s logistical apparatus was reportedly destroyed or left at the bottom of the Atlantic.

The official British figures list 255 killed, 777 wounded, and approximately 280 subsequent suicides linked to war-related trauma. However, taking into account that an attacking force typically suffers higher casualties than a defending force—with even the most conservative estimates ranging from 2:1 to 3:1—the official numbers appear questionable, especially considering the harsh terrain, comparable to Greenland or the Scottish Highlands.

Below is a day-by-day account of British losses from their arrival at South Georgia on 23 April until 14 June 1982, when the islands were retaken. (In red are the daily combat casualties; in brackets, in some cases, are estimated figures reflecting the likely proportion of troops lost in each engagement):

Summary:

23/04: 1 – A Sea King helicopter crashes at South Georgia.
01/05: 10 (2) – Two Harriers destroyed near Port Stanley. Eight sailors killed in attacks on: HMS Arrow, HMS Exeter, HMS Glamorgan, HMS Hermes, HMS Alacrity.
02/05: 1 – A Sea Harrier shot down over Port Stanley by 20 mm artillery.
04/05: 43 (3) – Harriers downed at Condor Air Base. HMS Sheffield sinks (40 dead). HMS Hermes possibly hit by an Exocet missile, forcing a change of course and reducing air coverage. Some reports suggest severe damage or partial sinking.
05/05: 1 (1) – Royal Marine killed at Elephant Bay.
06/05: 2 (2) – Two Harriers shot down north of East Falkland.
12/05: 4 – HMS Glasgow disabled; attack on HMS Brilliant.
17/05: 1 (1) – Sea King helicopter downed near the Argentine coast.
18/05: 22 – Sea King crashes into Albatross (Argentine sources claim it was shot down).
19/05: 1 (1) – Sea King helicopter crash; SAS specialist killed.
21/05: 32 – Two Gazelles downed at San Carlos (3 dead). HMS Ardent sunk (22 dead). HMS Argonaut, HMS Antrim, HMS Brilliant disabled; HMS Broadsword damaged. Three Sea Harriers (1) and one Sea King (1) shot down.
22/05: 1 – Harrier shot down.
23/05: 8 – Harrier crashes during a night sortie from HMS Hermes (1 dead). HMS Antelope sunk (7 dead).
24/05: 10 – Damage to: HMS Sir Lancelot, HMS Sir Galahad, HMS Sir Bedivere, HMS Fearless (6+ casualties; actual figures may be higher, given the number of troops on board and the circumstances of the attack).
25/05: 135 – Three Harriers downed (3 dead). HMS Coventry sunk (90+ dead), HMS Atlantic Conveyor sunk (20 dead). HMS Broadsword, HMS Sir Lancelot disabled; HMS Alacrity, HMS Yarmouth damaged. Two Sea Kings shot down; two others damaged.
27/05: 11 – Seven Royal Marines killed at San Carlos (7 dead). Three Gazelle helicopters and one Sea King downed (4 dead).
28/05: 136 – Two Sea Kings and a Scout helicopter downed (3 dead). One soldier killed on West Falkland (1 dead). 130 troops from 2 Para and the Royal Auxiliary killed during the Battle of Darwin (27–29 May)—the equivalent of an entire infantry company.
30/05: 44 – 38 killed during the Battle of Goose Green (23–30 May). A Sea Harrier crashes (1 dead). HMS Invincible reportedly attacked (5+ casualties) by an Exocet and two 250 kg bombs. Unconfirmed reports suggest the ship sank, which would imply higher casualties.
08/06: 162 – Fitzroy attack: HMS Sir Galahad (89 dead), HMS Sir Tristam (40 dead), Foxtrot 4 landing craft (6+ dead). Several Chinese dockworkers killed on the beach during heavy bombardments. HMS Avenger disabled. HMS Plymouth attacked by five Argentine missiles at Pleasant Bay.
09/06: 18 – Two Sisters Mountain, SAS commandos.
10/06: 4 – Four Royal Marines killed in an accident.
11/06: 44 – Deaths between 11 and 12 June: (3) at Mount Harriet, (23) from 3 Para at Mount Longdon, (4) from 45 Commando, (1) from 42 Commando, (13) from B Company.
12/06: 29 – (4) at Two Sisters Mountain. HMS Glamorgan (25 dead) disabled by an Exocet missile fired from Port Stanley.
13/06: 360 – Deaths between 13 and 14 June in the battles of Mount Longdon, Mount Williams, and Wireless Ridge.
14/06: 10 (5) at Tumbledown; two Sea Kings shot down. Five killed at Top Malo House.

Total: 1,090 killed, not including potential additional unrecorded losses.

Damaged and Lost Vessels:

• Sunk/Destroyed: 8 ships (including HMS Sheffield, HMS Coventry, HMS Ardent, HMS Antelope, HMS Sir Galahad, HMS Sir Tristam, Atlantic Conveyor, Foxtrot 4 landing craft).

• Disabled: 9 ships (e.g., HMS Invincible (possibly sunk), HMS Alacrity, HMS Avenger, HMS Glamorgan, HMS Glasgow).

• Heavily Damaged: 5 ships (e.g., HMS Brilliant, HMS Broadsword, HMS Plymouth, HMS Ambuscade, HMS Sir Lancelot).

• Moderately Damaged: 9 ships (e.g., HMS Hermes, HMS Exeter, HMS Fearless, plus others).

Total Affected Ships: 31.

Aircraft Losses:

• Fleet Air Arm: 19 Sea Harriers shot down, 10 grounded due to mechanical failure; 13 helicopters downed, 32 others disabled.

• RAF: 12 Harriers downed, 5 grounded; 12 helicopters downed, 26 grounded.

• Royal Marines and Army: Multiple helicopters lost (46 downed overall; 62 disabled).

Total Aircraft Lost: 154.

Of 77 fixed-wing aircraft deployed (Harriers and Sea Harriers), 46 were rendered inoperable. Out of 171 helicopters deployed, 108 became unusable.

Conclusion:

• Total Dead: 1,090.

• Total Ships Affected: 31.

• Total Aircraft Lost: 154.

The UK has never disclosed the full extent of its personnel and equipment losses, which, by all accounts, exceeded those of Argentina and are reflected in the scale of damage sustained.

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Triple Alliance War: Corrientes Fall and Argentina is Drawn into War

Corrientes Fall into Paraguayan Claws

April 13, 1865 — Paraguay Attacks the City of Corrientes: The War of the Triple Alliance Begins

Moored at the port of the provincial capital Corrientes were two Argentine ships, the 25 de Mayo and the Gualeguay. Both vessels were in port for repairs — unarmed, with reduced crews, and some sailors on shore leave.

On the morning of April 13, 1865, around six o’clock, five Paraguayan steamships appeared off the shores of Corrientes. Without any declaration of war, they swiftly positioned themselves and attacked the defenseless Argentine ships — an unprovoked, treacherous assault.

Outnumbered, the Argentine sailors mounted a heroic resistance, but they were soon overpowered and captured. Three hundred Paraguayan sailors seized around eighty Argentines; several who had already surrendered were immediately executed — beheaded by Guaraní fighters. The Argentine flags were struck down, thrown to the ground, while the attackers shouted praises for Marshal Solano López. Some sailors tried to escape by diving into the water but were shot and killed.

Meanwhile, 2,500 Paraguayan troops landed in the city of Corrientes, occupying the provincial capital. Other Paraguayan columns invaded the Mesopotamian provinces via various crossings, bringing the invasion force to a total of 27,000 men.

The surviving Argentine sailors would spend the rest of the war in captivity under inhumane conditions; many would die in prison. The Paraguayan occupation of Corrientes was harsh and brutal: kidnappings, rapes, destruction of Argentine property, and summary executions. Five local women — some with young children — were famously kidnapped and taken to Paraguay, later remembered as the “Cautivas correntinas”.

The legitimate governor, Manuel Lagraña, managed to escape with some soldiers into the provincial interior, seeking to gather men to repel the Paraguayan invasion. The invaders, in turn, set up a puppet government, fully subject to Asunción’s decisions.

It would take nearly a year — and bloody battles like Yatay and Pehuajó — to finally expel the invaders from Corrientes province.

This Paraguayan attack would ultimately trigger Argentina’s formal entry into the war, marking the start of the bloody War of the Triple Alliance.

Photograph: Steamship “25 de Mayo” and its crew, 1861. Many of these sailors would die during the Paraguayan capture; others would endure painful captivity. The captured ship itself would serve under Paraguayan colors for several years of the war.

1 May: Mirage III Face off Against Sea Harriers

Minesweeper: ARA Chaco

Minesweeper ARA Chaco — The Last of Us

 

✅ Name: ARA Chaco (M-3)
✅ Type: Minesweeper (dragaminas)
✅ Class: Bouchard class (US-built Admirable class minesweepers, transferred to Argentina)
✅ Origin: Originally built in the United States as part of the Admirable-class minesweepers used during WWII; transferred to the Argentine Navy postwar.
✅ Commissioned in Argentina: Late 1940s–early 1950s period

Specifications

• Displacement: ~625 tons (full load)

• Length: ~56 meters

• Beam: ~10 meters

• Draught: ~3 meters

• Propulsion: Diesel-electric engines

• Speed: ~15 knots

• Crew: ~100 personnel

• Armament: Typically light guns (40 mm, 20 mm), plus minesweeping gear

Operational Role

The ARA Chaco’s primary mission was to clear naval mines, ensuring safe passage for military and civilian vessels — a key function in wartime and peacetime operations. Minesweepers like the Chaco were particularly important in southern Argentine waters, where maintaining navigable routes around bases and ports like Puerto Belgrano, Ushuaia, or Río Gallegos was essential.

Serving as a specialized vessel for detecting and clearing naval mines, the ARA Chaco contributed to Argentina’s maritime security, protecting shipping lanes, naval bases, and coastal waters. While it did not play a front-line role during the Malvinas conflict, its presence reflects Argentina’s organized naval posture, ensuring operational safety and maintaining sovereign control over national waters.

Though it was part of the Argentine Navy’s inventory during the Malvinas era, the ARA Chaco was not one of the ships directly deployed in the South Atlantic conflict in 1982. Nonetheless, vessels of its class played vital support roles in Argentina’s naval strategy, particularly in home waters, ensuring that potential mine threats did not hamper maritime movements.

The Argentine Air Force in Malvinas Before 1982

The Argentine Air Force in the Malvinas from 1971 to 1982 In 1971, the “Communications Agreement” was signed with the United Kingdom. Under this framework, the Argentine Air Force assumed responsibility for establishing a weekly airline service. Personnel from the Air Force were deployed to the islands, representing Líneas Aéreas del Estado (LADE). The appointed officer became the usual point of contact between Argentine authorities and the local island communities, as well as with the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and Worship. Daily family coexistence, respectful personal relationships, and a diligent attitude in service provision were all meant to demonstrate to the Malvinas residents Argentina’s intention to look after their well-being and to consider their interests — if not always their feelings — as aligned with those of the Argentine nation. This was not just air service; it was a diplomatic effort to reinforce Argentine presence and care on the islands — a soft, persistent reminder that Argentina was present and committed to the Malvinas, long before the escalation of 1982. The Situation in the Early 1980s By the early 1980s, it seemed that the British government was seriously beginning to seek a solution to the sovereignty dispute with Argentina. Talks were underway over a possible leaseback or long-term lease of the islands. While this proposal did not fully satisfy Argentina’s aspirations, it marked a significant breakthrough and a radical shift in the British government’s negotiating stance, appearing to move away from its old stalling tactics. On the other hand, Argentina’s efforts to improve the well-being of the Malvinas population were at their peak. Nearly a decade had passed since LADE’s first flight, and the islanders were openly enjoying the services provided by Argentina. The most important included: ✅ Two weekly LADE flights using Fokker F-27 and F-28 aircraft, which enabled the arrival of tourists, benefiting local commerce and hospitality. ✅ Postal and cargo services on all flights, ensuring the regular delivery of mail, newspapers, magazines, videos, films for projection at the local cinema, and supplies like vegetables and medicines. ✅ Regular provision by YPF of gasoline and kerosene. Diesel, fuel oil, and lubricants were marketed by FIC. ✅ Supply of liquefied gas in cylinders and canisters by Gas del Estado, which even had to expand its storage plant to meet growing demand. ✅ Maritime transport by the Argentine Navy’s Transportes Navales, on a four-month rotation, ensuring the delivery of gas, fuel, and other goods purchased in Argentina: flour, corn, animal feed, etc. ✅ Spanish-language instruction in the schools of Puerto Argentino (Port Stanley), provided by Argentine bilingual teachers. ✅ Scholarships for young Malvinas islanders who wished to complete their secondary studies at Argentina’s top British-style schools. ✅ A notable increase in Argentine and international tourism. Simultaneously, with the change of Argentina’s representative in 1980, the British governor, the government secretary, and the Anglican cathedral pastor were also renewed. Except for the manager of the Falkland Island Company, the most influential figures were new — creating a favorable climate for management without prejudice or entrenched wear. The first gesture of goodwill from the new authorities was to grant the Argentine representative distinguished, preferential, and open treatment, evident in every social or work meeting they held. Problems regarding the application or interpretation of the 1971 Communications Agreement were analyzed without speculation and with broad-mindedness. Solutions were found without delay, and new ideas were launched to expand and deepen cooperation. It can confidently be said that, in the months leading up to the war, the attitude and disposition of Governor Rex Hunt and his government secretary, Dick Baker, were clearly favorable to strengthening relations with Argentina. Argentine Air Force