Sunday, February 22, 2026

Argentine Aircrafts: The Demential Design of the IA-36 Cóndor


History of the Argentine IA 36 Cóndor passenger jet







The FMA IA 36 Cóndor was a 40-passenger aircraft project studied in Argentina by Kurt Tank in the early 1950s. It had the peculiarity of having five Rolls-Royce Nene II engines arranged in a ring around the rear part of the fuselage and fed by an air intake that completely encircled it.
The ambitious project, which was scheduled to fly in 1956, was delayed and would be buried in 1958 following a change of government.



With beautiful aerodynamic lines and five engines hidden within its fuselage, the Argentine IA 36 Cóndor passenger jet could have been the first commercial jet designed in Latin America at a time when jet aviation was in its infancy. Globally, only three jet airliners were pursuing that same direction of using jet propulsion: the De Havilland Comet, the Avro Canada C102, and the Tupolev Tu-104. Only the first managed to establish itself—though only briefly—since two of them crashed due to design errors, killing all passengers and crew. A fourth competitor seized the lead in commercial aviation: the Boeing 707, which capitalised on previous experience, with a suggestively very similar outline to the Argentine jet, which was ultimately cancelled by decision of the de facto government of the dictator Pedro Eugenio Aramburu during the regime known as the Revolución Libertadora in 1958.

Río Grande.—Designed by Kurt Tank, father of the Pulqui II, in 1951, the IA 36 Cóndor was a medium-span passenger aircraft fitted with jet engines, and would have been the first commercial jet designed in Latin America at a time when jet aviation was in its infancy, when only the De Havilland Comet, the Avro Canada C102, and the Tupolev Tu-104 constituted the only existing offer. With the Avro shelved for lack of resources, and sales of the Tupolev restricted to countries behind the Iron Curtain, the only option was the British Comet, whose fatal design flaws turned it into a death trap, crashing one after another in 1954. With good design and good engineering, the Argentine IA 36 could have become the leader of modern commercial aviation worldwide; however, with a similar design, it was the Boeing 707 that took the lead in commercial aviation.

The I.A. 36 Cóndor was a passenger transport aircraft project designed in Argentina by the Fábrica Militar de Aviones in the early 1950s. Project studies began in late 1951 with a design by Kurt Tank, from which a 1:34 scale mock-up was built for the wind tunnel, and a 1:1 scale wooden fuselage model.

The project featured five turbines (the turbojets would be the Rolls Royce “Nene II” model) in an enveloping annular configuration, although it was envisaged that they would be replaced by lighter and more powerful ones.

It could accommodate 32 to 40 passengers and reach a speed of 950 km/h (in that decade the British de Havilland Comet 3 developed 780 km/h).

The Cóndor had a wingspan of 34 m and, like the Pulqui II, had pronounced swept wings, benefiting its performance and economy in flight at high speeds, with an estimated range of 5,000 km.

The project was cancelled by decision of the de facto government of the dictator Pedro Eugenio Aramburu during the regime known as the Revolución Libertadora in 1958.

History

Alejandro Franco produced a historical summary of this emblematic aircraft and recalls that it is the 1940s; the course of the Second World War has changed and the Nazis have lost the initiative, thanks to the counter-offensive mounted by the Russians in the massive Battle of Kursk in July 1943. Not only has the German advance been halted, but the Russians have the initiative and will not stop until they reach the gates of Berlin in April 1945. It is only a matter of time before Adolf Hitler’s Germany falls, so, little by little, the Allied countries begin to make plans for the post-war period, even as German bombs continue to devastate Europe.

Among the reconstruction projects is the modernisation of commercial aviation. The aircraft the army uses to transport troops and war matériel—such as the enormous four-engined Lockheed L-049 Constellation—can easily be converted for civilian use, but they remain limited and noisy, even though it has an endurance range of 6,500 kilometres. Many begin to cast a sideways glance at jet technology, which is still cutting its teeth. Jet turbines are faster and quieter, but they are ravenous fuel guzzlers… and their maximum range is lower than the L-049 and similar aircraft of the period.

By the end of the 1940s, three models appeared: the de Havilland Comet (considered the first commercial aviation jet in history), which debuted in July 1949. The following month the Avro Canada C102 appeared, which never got beyond the prototype stage and would never be mass-produced. Six years later the third model debuted, the Tupolev Tu-104 (June 1955), which put the Soviet Union in the skies.

But a fourth passenger jet aircraft could have existed… and it would have been the Argentine IA 36 Cóndor.

This is the chronicle of a home-grown design with an unusual appearance and iconoclastic engineering, which could have put Argentina on the map of the world’s leading commercial aircraft producers. It is a pity the project never went beyond a sketch and only a couple of scale models were ever built.

A revolutionary and deranged design

The person responsible for the IA 36 Cóndor project was Kurt Tank, the father of the Pulqui II. We have already told the story of the Pulqui I and Pulqui II in the relevant article, but it is worth a brief recap here. Tank was a German engineer who worked designing fighters for the Nazis during the Second World War. When the conflict ended he was left unemployed and, unlike many of his peers—who were recruited by Americans and Soviets—Tank was left wandering around Europe without any valid job offer until Perón offered him employment. Perón wanted Argentina to have its own fighter and had tasked Emile Dewoitine—a Frenchman who had been a Nazi collaborator with the Vichy government during the war—with its development. But Dewoitine could not fully master jet technology—his speciality had always been propeller aircraft—and the project, called Pulqui I, had produced an unstable aircraft, difficult to fly and with poor performance. By contrast, Tank was more battle-hardened in jet technology and brought with him the plans for a pocket fighter—the Focke-Wulf Ta 183—which he expanded and refined to turn into the Pulqui II. And although it was superior in many respects to the Pulqui I, it still needed much work to be a practical and stable fighter.

Using the expertise learned in the development of the Pulqui II, Tank began to develop the prototype of a medium-span passenger aircraft fitted with jet engines. The idea was for it to be mass-produced to form the fleet of the newly established Aerolíneas Argentinas (1950). Development began in 1951 and it soon became evident that it was not a conventional design. While the Comet, Avro and Tupolev had their turbines set into the wings—a design decision that improved aerodynamics but made engine maintenance excessively complicated—Tank came up with the idea of putting the engines literally inside the aircraft, in a tail section larger and wider than the rest of the fuselage and mounted over the main section where the passengers were. The five Rolls Royce Nene II engines would use a single nozzle that would project thrust out through the tail of the aircraft.

Although it was innovative, the flaws in such a design were obvious at first glance. The 40 passengers of the IA 36 would be travelling “stuck” to the engines—as if they were strapped to a rocket—and the noise and heat would be unbearable. On the other hand, it was necessary to detach half the aircraft to slide the tail back, expose the engines and be able to maintain them. And the last (and potentially most dangerous) flaw was that if one of the engines failed (or, worse, if it exploded) it would immediately affect the other four, causing not only an immediate loss of power but raising to intolerable levels the risk that a fire would spread to the passenger section in a matter of seconds.

Aside from those details, the IA 36 Cóndor’s specifications sounded promising. It would have a wingspan of 34 metres; the five Rolls Royce engines would give it a maximum speed of 950 kilometres per hour, surpassing by almost 20% the performance of the de Havilland Comet 3, which was the standard of the day and which reached 780 kilometres per hour. Its range was 5,000 kilometres, which was ideal for flights both within our country and to reach most countries in South America without the need to refuel.

But even if the design had been successful, its passenger capacity worked against its viability. When commercial jets became the standard, it soon became evident that operating costs had to be offset by a greater number of passengers per flight. The Comet only became profitable when version 3 appeared in 1954 with capacity for 76 passengers instead of the 36 of the initial version. All these jet aircraft would be eclipsed by the appearance in 1957 of the Boeing 707 which, with capacity for 179 passengers (and turbines installed externally under the wings), would end up becoming the new and definitive standard of commercial aviation, which remains to this day. The rest of the jets mentioned above would fade away in its shadow and only the DC-8 from Douglas Aircraft (later, McDonnell Douglas) would be able to compete for the market by having similar capacity and performance.

Of the IA 36 Cóndor, some plans remained and two wooden models were made: one full-scale 1:1 and one 1:34 scale to be tested in the wind tunnel. With Perón’s fall in 1955 the project would be frozen and would ultimately be cancelled in 1958.


Thursday, February 19, 2026

Argentine Aces: Bernardo De Larminat, From Neuquén to Face the Afrika Korps

The gaucho who fought the Nazis. He grew up in Neuquén, became a fighter pilot and was an “ace of the air” in the Second World War


By: Claudio Meunier
La Nación 




The lineage of a fighter pilot in the desert, symbolised in this well-known shot of De Larminat for Allied propaganda. (Claudio Meunier Archive).

In the endless wait, Bernardo De Larminat looks for his cigarettes. His fingers feel an envelope; he remembers that he must open it and read it. He takes it out with his trembling hand; he has not yet fully recovered from his first bout of Malaria which, days earlier, plunged his body into a dense drowsiness of fever.

He opens the envelope and, with his mouth, holds a small lit torch. The message, dated 25 August in London, comes from the Argentine Consulate General. They invite him to continue his paperwork for an extension regarding compulsory military service in Argentina. He laughs out loud; his comrades look at him; they do not understand what is happening to him. He knows that in days or hours he could be dead. The life of a combat pilot in the desert is short, too short. But, we bring forward the end of the story, Bernardo will not die (nor will he do his military service in Argentina).

Note from the Argentine Consulate in London issued on 25 August 1942 that arrived in Egypt shortly before the start of the second battle of El Alamein against the German forces in October 1942. (Claudio Meunier Archive).

Born on 25 December 1920 in Buenos Aires, Federal Capital, he was baptised Bernardo Noel Marie De Larminat. He is the son of Santiago De Larminat, a Frenchman, a pioneer of Patagonian development at the beginning of the 20th century.
Bernardo spends his childhood at the distant Estancia Cerro Los Pinos, the family home, a paradisiacal tract of land in the geography of the province of Neuquén. His life, marked by rural activity, keeps him far from any contact with civilisation. And, even less, with aviation.
The Second World War motivates him. Principles of other times: chivalry, representing France through his volunteering and the defence of democracy, for our country, Argentina.
Determined to become a volunteer, he tries to join the Argentines who converge on a training camp in Canada where the “Free French” of General De Gaulle gather.

However, the passenger ship that transports him houses another group of idealistic Argentines with whom he strikes up a friendship and they, too, are going to war in Canada, but with another direction, to a flying school.

The group’s unanimous objective is to obtain the brevet and become Canadian combat aviators. Bernardo joins the initiative and for the first time in his life thinks about something he has never paid attention to: flying.

A Toronto newspaper reports on the Argentine volunteers who join the Canadian army to fight in the Second World War.

Accepted into the Royal Canadian Air Force, he must begin his flying instruction. Then he discovers an obstacle he had not foreseen, which blocks his way: he does not speak English. But his lack of knowledge of the language will save his life.

While his Argentine comrades of British stock advance easily, Bernardo is sent to acquire basic knowledge of English. To his disappointment, while he begins as an aviation cadet, his comrades receive their aviator wings and are sent to the European theatre of war.

Bernardo only receives his aviator wings on 6 December 1941, a few months later than his comrades. His instructor suggests to him:
—De Larminat, very good effort. Don’t go to the bombers; your Argentine comrades have almost all died on operations. Don’t get yourself killed; you know what to do to avoid it.

The best averages of each intake enjoy a unique benefit: they can choose the speciality they want to develop. Flying fighters or bombers. The curious thing is that the great majority of requests are denied or receive a contrary answer. Bernardo, who was a standout cadet, tests his luck: he requests to fly bombers. The answer does not surprise him: his wish is rejected and they send him to train as a fighter pilot. The trick works.

Bernardo de Larminat was born in the Federal Capital, but was raised in Neuquén. He took part in more than 300 combats, first with Canadian aviation and afterwards with De Gaulle’s “Free French”.


Take-off of Captain De Larminat in a Spitfire Mk. VIII during 1944 when he was acting Flight Commander of Squadron 417. (Claudio Meunier Archive).

On 7 December 1941, one day after obtaining his wings, Bernardo is shaken by news that comes over the radio: Japanese aviation carries out a massive attack on the American fleet moored at Pearl Harbour. He listens to President Roosevelt’s speech in which he declares war on the totalitarians of Europe.

Bernardo becomes a fighter pilot at 21 and flies one of the most advanced aircraft of his era, the last word in technology, the mythical Spitfire. Two years later, after calling at different flying schools perfecting himself in air combat, he is deployed first to Europe and later to North Africa. On 19 April 1943, being a veteran of the air, some miracle works on him and he avoids his first encounter with death (eternal and silent companion, it will stalk him until the end of the conflict). During a patrol flight, his flight commander bellows over the radio in a single shout:
—Half-turn to the left, German fighters!

Bernardo responds with an instinct —a thousand times rehearsed— and makes a violent turn. He evades the rain of shots falling from above. His comrade, flying in front of him, does not have the same luck and is shot down. Trapped in his Spitfire. Bernardo looks around; he has been left alone, surrounded by at least twenty-five enemy fighters. He desperately searches for his comrades, but they have vanished in the sky. The German fighters occupy his world: they are below, above, everywhere. He fires at one of them and misses. He attacks another with no result. There are so many that he can choose. He opens fire on several that rush quickly in front of his sights and hits one of them.

Practically at the same time, a strong explosion shakes his Spitfire. He feels a lash in his left leg that tears his foot off the control pedals. Yes, he has been hit.


Bernardo De Larminat aboard his Spitfire carrying out a patrol over the Tunisian desert. (Claudio Meunier Archive).

He is surrounded, over enemy territory. He flies hemmed in by Messerschmitt 109 fighters, an aeroplane that in the hands of a good pilot means certain death. Locked in an invisible cage, Bernardo believes he is living his last seconds of life. He takes advantage of the opportunity; he knows that if they fire on his aeroplane it is likely they will hit each other. Captain Gerhard Michalski, leader of the German group, realises the disorder and how the Spitfire is taking advantage of them at that moment. He orders a few to fly behind the lone Bernardo to shoot him down.

But the Argentine pilot attempts his last manoeuvre before dying: he pretends to lose control of his Spitfire and throws himself into a crazed descending spiral. Michalski and his pilots watch the aeroplane’s fall as it dives into some clouds and then disappears. Bernardo emerges below the clouds only to add more misfortunes to the events and regains control of his aeroplane just in time, before dying embedded against a hill he passes scraping. He escapes at low altitude, reaches the coast, continues across the plains of Tunisia, sights an aeroplane: it is a German Stuka bomber on a training flight. He opens fire and continues without being able to see what happens to his adversary. He flies at low altitude; the anti-aircraft batteries of the nearby enemy aerodrome fire at him; they also want to end his life.

Bernardo manages to reach the base, Goubrine, south-west of Tunisia, where his mechanics receive him. When he stops the engine, he hears several cries; the shouts multiply and his alarm grows. The petrol tank, which is located in front of the cockpit, has an enormous hole. Had it exploded, it would have turned him into a mass of flames. He has another hit on the engine, a direct shot that would have made him blow up into the air. But De Larminat, bearer of the lucky star of destiny, evades death.


Bernardo Noel Marie De Larminat aboard his Spitfire Mk.Vc while he was a pilot of Canadian Squadron 417 which operated against the forces of the Afrika Korps. (Claudio Meunier Archive).

At 23, he is promoted to Flight Commander. He leads into combat the select group of Canadian pilots who support with their flights the advance of the British Eighth Army. Death follows him and almost reaches him in 1944.

Everything ends abruptly when his Spitfire’s engine stops over the Adriatic Sea. He must jump by parachute, which will bring consequences for his body. When the parachute opens, his arm gets tangled and causes him serious injuries. He falls into the water. For a moment he cannot unfasten his parachute, which begins to drag him towards the depths. Finally he manages to free himself and swims with one arm. A rescue aircraft goes searching for him and everything ends in a hospital, with a cast. During his recovery, he receives bad news: the Canadians have decided to remove him from operations.
—That’s enough, De Larminat: you have completed 300 combat missions. You can return to your home in Argentina or serve as a flying instructor in Canada.

Quick-witted, he requests discharge from the Royal Canadian Air Force and, appealing to his French origin, enlists in General De Gaulle’s Free French air force.
—Very well, De Larminat, tell me… What can I do for you?, General Vallin, director of the Free French Air Force, asks him.
—I want to fly combat missions again, Bernardo answers.

Vallin looks at the impeccable record of the Argentine warrior. His experience in dive-bombing missions, his three confirmed shoot-downs and others damaged make Vallin not hesitate.
—Very well, De Larminat. You will be Flight Commander and you must operate in the advance on the Netherlands against the Germans, Vallin replies.

Bernardo, enthused by the answer, requests a few days’ leave before joining his new squadron, because he has paperwork to do. The request is granted.

He presents himself at the Argentine Consulate in London dressed in the aviator’s walking-out uniform to continue the extension for Compulsory Military Service in Argentina. The official, embarrassed on seeing his captain’s stripes, invites him for a coffee and suggests:
—Please, forget the matter; there are several cases, like yours; this will have some solution.

Bernardo flies as Flight Commander in the select French Squadron 341 composed of pilots of the same veteran status. Some of his comrades fly like him, without interruption, since 1942. In that same unit served the famous Franco-Brazilian volunteer and ace of the skies Pierre Clostermann. Bernardo will be the one to guide them into combat. Death pursues him and on 1 April 1945 sets a new trap for him. But De Larminat knows how to deal with it and, once again, evades it.

After attacking a German train behind enemy lines, with cannon fire and bombs, Nazi anti-aircraft projectiles hit the engine of his Spitfire which, damaged, stops. Bernardo knows he will not be able to return to his base and that he will fall behind enemy lines. He makes an emergency landing with the wheels up. The fighter slides over some furrows, crashes through a fence, some posts fly, and finally his aircraft stops. He opens the cockpit canopy, unfastens the harnesses and escapes from the aircraft. He discards his yellow life jacket that makes him visible and refrains from setting fire to the aircraft, as protocol indicates, because he does not want to draw attention.



1954. Bernardo De Larminat in his natural environment, the countryside and Patagonia with his dog and tack behind him. (Claudio Meunier Archive).

Some shots pass over his head. They are the Germans firing and converging on him from a nearby wood. Bernardo runs towards a ditch full of water, crosses a barbed fence and, covered in mud, reaches a house asking for help. A young woman answers him; she replies in perfect English:
—I’m very sorry, I can’t help you. I’m alone.

He continues his escape pursued by the echo of the battle. He heads towards a pine forest, where he hides. He sees petrol barrels hidden among the trees and is alarmed. What is that doing there? He looks carefully; he discovers German troops occupying the rings of the forest. He decides to hide very close to them. They will never think that an evader they are looking for is metres from their improvised detachment.

Bernardo, who at that moment has 320 war missions, thinks:
—How stupid it is to have come this far to die on the ground and isolated, without my parents knowing what has happened to me.

He remains hidden in a cave, covered with vegetation. He waits for night to escape under cover of darkness. When he emerges from his hiding place, he discovers that his legs are completely numb and barely allow him to stay standing. If he is discovered, he is a dead man.

Members of the Dutch resistance find him and evacuate him. Dressed in a mechanic’s overalls and an old cap, he walks through the rural streets until he reaches a refuge where he will be sheltered, together with other shot-down Allied aviators and a German sailor who has deserted the war. Days later, on a bicycle, pretending to be a local inhabitant, Bernardo crosses German troops withdrawing from the battle. The tired soldiers signal for him to stop; they ask him for cigarettes. Bernardo, naturally, speaks to them in French and offers them cigarettes. He greets them and continues his way towards the Allied lines.

Guided by the resistance to a Canadian regiment, he is received with joy. Despite his insistent protests, they cut his hair, subject him to frantic fumigations, inoculate him with vaccines against lice and force him to take a good shower to dispel the adrenaline in his body, after six intense days as an evader in enemy territory. At his squadron’s airfield there are celebrations at his return. Captain Andrieux orders him to take a holiday leave in Paris. Bernardo refuses. He requests to join operations immediately. One day later, he leads new attacks with his flight over the German front.

Not far from that front, his brother Andrés —an Argentine volunteer in the service of Free France— fights as a crewman of a Sherman tank under General Leclerc’s orders. Like Bernardo, the lucky star of destiny makes him a surviving veteran of the Second World War.

When Germany capitulates, Captain Bernardo De Larminat receives all kinds of decorations. Great Britain awards him the Distinguished Flying Cross. He is also consecrated a “Knight of the Legion of Honour” and receives the French Croix de Guerre with four palms and seven citations from the French government for his professionalism and devotion to duty in combat.

Happy to have evaded death day by day for four years, he requests his discharge and returns to his beloved Patagonia, to his life in the countryside. He feels privileged to have flown one of the best fighters of the Second World War. Bernardo decides that he will only fly again as a passenger, on airliners. But on two occasions destiny puts him again in front of an aircraft’s controls. The first time was during a cattle auction, in La Pampa. The commission firm transports him as a passenger. The pilot, on discovering Bernardo’s interest in his aeroplane, since he did not stop asking him questions, invites him to fly on his right, in the co-pilot’s seat. During the flight, the aeroplane enters a storm zone; the pilot becomes disoriented and loses control. De Larminat takes the controls, stabilises the aeroplane, gives control back to the pilot and teaches him something learned in the war:
—Man! You have to trust your instruments blindly!



Bernardo De Larminat, together with his ten children. Raised in a rural environment, they continued their father’s legacy. (Mercedes De Larminat Archive).


A cross in Neuquén, by a fence

Bernardo married María Inés Teresa Francisca Cornet D’Hunval (Manina) and they had ten children. A marriage that lived with minimal comfort, in primitive rural areas far from any town. Without communications and with bad roads, in that way they made their way in life. At the end of the 1960s, Bernardo became vice-president of the Rural Society of Choele Choel. He kept working the rest of his days in the countryside. He spent his last summers in Tierra del Fuego. After shearing, he asked his son Eduardo for the Veranada post in the mountains. With his eighty years on his back, he went to look after the cattle that were driven there, accompanied by some of his daughters and grandchildren. He did not leave a corner untravelled. Hills, peat bogs, ravines. He slept on the saddle blanket. They were his holidays, if that word was ever in his vocabulary.



Manina and Bernardo, a marriage that, together with their children, upheld by their example livestock and agricultural work, without any rest, until their last days. (Photograph Inés De Larminat).

He died on 6 January 2010, aged 89, in Zapala. He was buried at Estancia El Bosque, El Huecú, Neuquén, next to his wife Manina, by a fence. That was his wish. There he lies now, turned into legend.

Regarding his Compulsory Military Service, the government of the time decreed that Argentine volunteer pilots who fought alongside the Allied forces were to be exempted from that obligation. And not only that: the same law made Bernardo an Officer of the Reserve in the Argentine Air Force. A similar case to that of Claudio Alan Withington, a man from Córdoba from Villa Huidobro who flew in the Second World War with the British air force (RAF) and who later, in 1982, during the Falklands War, flew with the Argentine Air Force.

……………..But that is another story…

Thursday, February 12, 2026

Assault on La Tablada: The Story of a Widow of the Nation


4: Liliana’s grief on the cover of GENTE. Ten days had passed since the attack on La Tablada, and it was still difficult to grasp what had happened.

The Widow of a Patriot Who Gave His Life for the Nation

 


1: Liliana’s memories: “We’d been married ten years. I don’t speak of Horacio as if he were perfect just because he passed away—I say it because that’s how I genuinely feel. We never had a problem. We had a solid marriage. That’s why, since he’s been gone, I’ve tried to continue with what we’d planned.”


La Tablada: The Widow of Lieutenant Colonel Horacio Fernández Cutiellos Speaks
Liliana Raffo, widow of the second-in-command of the regiment, remembers her husband, Horacio Fernández Cutiellos. He was the first soldier to fall under guerrilla fire on Monday, 23 January 1989.

On 21 January 1989, Liliana Raffo was celebrating her 34th birthday in Córdoba with her parents, siblings, and four children: Horacio Raúl (then aged 9), Inés María (7), María Victoria (4), and María del Rosario (2). From Buenos Aires, her husband, Horacio Fernández Cutiellos (37), rang to wish her well. Due to work commitments—he was then serving as deputy commander of Infantry Regiment No. 3 in La Tablada and would later be promoted to lieutenant colonel—he could not be part of the celebration. Sadly, he would also not be present at any future ones.

Fernández Cutiellos was the second-in-command of the 3rd Mechanised Infantry Regiment. According to the judicial investigation, he was struck by gunfire at 9:20 a.m. on Monday the 23rd while engaging the attackers from a column near the parade ground. He was the first of five soldiers to fall following the assault.

Today, Liliana Raffo welcomes GENTE magazine into her home in the city of Córdoba. Her 64th birthday is two days away, and as has happened for over three decades, her emotions are mixed. On one hand, she recalls the last time she spoke to Horacio—the last time she heard his voice. On the other, the memory of the attack on the barracks, on 23 and 24 January 1989, which took her husband’s life, comes flooding back.

"It never crossed my mind that something like this could happen. We were living under a democratic government—Alfonsín’s," she reflects. She pauses, sighs, and adds: "But well… life goes on. It’s become routine now to have unpleasant Christmases, unpleasant birthdays, or simply none at all—because every year on the anniversary I travel to Buenos Aires. This year I’m going to Pigüé, the new base of the regiment, where on Wednesday the 23rd there’ll be an official ceremony. The first in thirty years."

Liliana still refers to her four children as “the kids”, though the eldest is nearing 40. “I got through it thanks to them. When I felt like crying, I’d go to my mum’s or a friend’s. At home, I tried to stay strong for them. I spoiled them too, I admit… Instead of raising them with strict rules or asking for help around the house, I’d say: ‘Go play.’ Just to keep their minds off things,” she recalls of the years following her husband’s death.

3: “I try not to show it, but I feel a lot of anger. Sometimes I think my husband died in vain. My children lost so much. They had to learn to live without their father from a very young age.”


"Horacio is here, there, and there." From the armchair, Liliana points to various framed photos of her husband placed around the living room. What she regrets most, she says, is not having a recording of his voice. "It’s the first thing you lose. I don’t remember it anymore. I always say, ‘Why didn’t I record him?!’ I don’t even have a video—can you believe that? It was a different time," she consoles herself.

Liliana’s memories: “We’d been married ten years. I don’t speak of Horacio as if he were perfect just because he passed away—I say it because that’s how I genuinely feel. We never had a problem. We had a solid marriage. That’s why, since he’s been gone, I’ve tried to continue with what we’d planned.”


2: In her home in the city of Córdoba, Liliana Raffo keeps the memory of her husband, Lieutenant Colonel Horacio Fernández Cutiellos, alive.

A few days after the barracks were recovered, a handwritten letter by Horacio was found. “It was in his office, on his desk. It looks like he was writing it to the kids. I’ll let you read it, but please don’t publish it—my children would kill me,” she asks the journalist.

In black ink and cursive handwriting on a plain sheet of now yellowed paper, Horacio wrote to his “dear children” a sort of life manifesto speaking of love for others, respect for the environment, nature, and animals. Coincidence or not, one of his daughters—Inés María, now 37—is a qualified vet. “That was Horacio,” says Liliana as she wraps the letter in plastic. “I try not to show it, but I feel a lot of anger. Sometimes I think my husband died in vain. My children lost so much. They had to learn to live without their father from a very young age.”

“I try not to show it, but I feel a lot of anger. Sometimes I think my husband died in vain. My children lost so much.
They had to learn to live without their father from a very young age.”

– Did you tell them the truth straight away or wait until they were older?
– I told them straight away. I never lied. I remember that a few days after the assault, my eldest, Horacio Raúl, would sneak off to the newsagent to look for reports about his father. Later, on a flight to Buenos Aires, I had María Victoria—the four-year-old—on my lap. There was a terrible storm outside, and suddenly I saw her waving. I asked her: “What are you doing, my love?” She replied: “I’m saying goodbye to Daddy.” I nearly died.

– Do your children have memories of him?
– At one point, the youngest would say to me: “Why didn’t he stay with us? Why did he have to go and die?” And she’s right. With the four-year-old, every time I gave her a bath, I’d say: “Do you remember how Daddy used to dry you?” and I’d pat her with the towel like he did. She remembers that, but most of what they know is from what I’ve told them. Since he died, I’ve tried to carry on with what we had planned. Our top priority was always the children and their education. Today they’re all professionals. I believe—just like me—he would be proud of them.



23 January 1989

"I’m going to die defending the barracks—recover it, all of you."
— Major Horacio Fernández Cutiellos, Deputy Commander of the 3rd Mechanised Infantry Regiment of the Argentine Army, during the defence of the La Tablada Army Garrison.

Thursday, February 5, 2026

Malvinas: The Shackleton Incident

Malvinas: The Shackleton Incident 

Source: Sean eternos los laureles

When Argentina enforced its sovereignty! On 4 February 1976, the destroyer ARA Almirante Storni of the Argentine Navy chased with cannon fire the British oceanographic ship RRS Shackleton to Port Stanley, Malvinas/Falkland.

On Wednesday, 4 February 1976, a destroyer from the Sea Fleet of the Argentine Navy on maritime control navigation, the D-24 ARA Almirante Storni, intercepted the British oceanographic ship RRS Shackleton of the BAS, British Antarctic Survey, which without authorisation from the Argentine authorities was sailing within Argentine jurisdictional waters carrying out scientific tasks of geological prospecting. An incident occurred when the Argentine maritime authority demanded the immediate internment of the intruding vessel, which, when it resisted, was driven off by cannon fire from the Argentine warship.

This incident, which was in fact more complex than briefly described—as we shall see later—was neither isolated nor accidental, but the consequence of a failed process of delaying and useless negotiations on the British side, and forced by international pressure after 133 years of patient and peaceful Argentine claims and British intransigence, initiated in 1967, and which by January 1976 had already lost nearly 10 years with an invader who had no intention whatsoever of returning the occupied territory.

The destroyer D-24 ARA Almirante Storni (nicknamed "the Greyhound"), of the 2nd Destroyer Division of the Argentine Navy’s Sea Fleet, was a former US Navy DD-547 USS Cowell, a "Fletcher"-class vessel launched at the Bethlehem Steel Shipyard on 18 May 1943. It was modernised to SCB 74A standard (Ship Characteristics Board) in the late 1950s and early 1960s. The ship measured 114.7 metres in length, 11.9 metres in beam, and had a draught of 4 metres. It displaced 3,500 tonnes and could reach a top speed of 35 knots, thanks to its two General Electric turbines and four Babcock & Wilcox boilers delivering a total of 600,000 HP. It had a range of 11,112 km at a cruising speed of 15 knots, and was equipped with powerful armament: four Mk-30 mounts with 127/38 mm guns and three twin 76.2 mm anti-aircraft mounts. The crew complement was approximately 230 personnel.

Transferred to the Argentine Navy, it was commissioned under the Argentine flag on 10 December 1971 and served until 21 August 1979. It was sold for scrapping on 29 December 1981, which was carried out in the Buenos Aires locality of Campana in 1982.

The single 127/38 mm Mk-30 gun mounts were controlled by an Mk-37 fire control director, originally featuring an Mk-12 fire control radar and an Mk-22 height finder (replaced in the post-war SCB 74A variants used by Argentina with the Mk-25 circular radar), connected to a Mark-1A fire control computer and stabilised by a Mk-6 gyroscope operating at 8,500 rpm. These guns, which originally numbered five turrets on Fletcher-class destroyers but were reduced to four following SCB 74A modernisation, had an elevation range of +85°/-15° and fired 127×680 mmR shells weighing 24 to 25 kg at a rate of 15 rounds per minute, with a muzzle velocity of 790 m/s. Maximum range was 16,000 metres in surface fire and 11,300 metres in anti-aircraft fire. They could penetrate belt armour up to 127 mm thick at 3,700 metres or deck armour up to 25 mm thick at 12,600 metres. The average barrel life was about 4,600 rounds at maximum charge.

The 2nd Destroyer Division was at one point composed of the five SCB 74A-modernised "Fletcher"-class destroyers that served in the Argentine Navy as the Almirante Brown class. These included:

  • D-20 ARA Almirante Brown (ex-DD-532 USS Heermann), in service 1962–1979;

  • D-21 ARA Espora (ex-DD-670 USS Dortch), in service 1962–1979;

  • D-22 ARA Rosales (ex-DD-644 USS Stembel), in service 1962–1981;

  • D-23 ARA Almirante Domecq García (ex-DD-630 USS Braine), in service 1971–1982;

  • D-24 ARA Almirante Storni (ex-DD-547 USS Cowell), in service 1971–1979.

These imposing vessels were eventually decommissioned to be replaced by six new-generation MEKO-140A16 corvettes, part of the naval rearmament plan designed by Admiral Massera. This class represented the most advanced type of vessel in the Argentine fleet during the 1970s and 1980s, and they were built at the AFNE shipyard in Argentina. These corvettes still form the core of the Argentine Navy’s Sea Fleet. However, due to a complete lack of modernisation during their decades of service—and their failure to be replaced by more advanced vessels as part of the controversial unilateral disarmament and dismantling of the Argentine Armed Forces and Defence infrastructure initiated in 1983 and deepened in 2003—they have lost nearly all of their combat capabilities. Without modernisation, they are being reduced to mere offshore patrol vessels, marking the transformation of the Argentine Navy into a sort of Naval National Guard or Coast Guard Corps, effectively leading to its eradication.

The Malvinas/Falkland Islands were first sighted by Spanish navigators in the 16th century, on 7 April 1502, by Amerigo Vespucci; the first maps were Spanish from 1520, and the first to disembark on the Islands were Spaniards—Alonso de Camargo on 4 February 1540, remaining until 31 December of that year and claiming them for the Spanish Crown.

The English only sighted them 90 years after Spain, in 1592, and the first British landing only took place in 1690 by Captain John Strong of HMS Welfare, who named Falkland Sound the strait between the two main islands, in honour of Lord Falkland, Treasurer of the Royal Navy, when the islands had already been Spanish for 188 years!


Single Mk-30 127/38 mm gun mounts from the destroyer D-23 ARA Almirante Domecq García, sister ship of the ARA Almirante Storni. These guns were controlled by an Mk-37 fire control director, which originally included an Mk-12 fire control radar and an Mk-22 height finder (replaced in the post-war SCB 74A variants used by Argentina with the Mk-25 circular radar). The system was linked via a Mark-1A fire control computer and stabilised by an Mk-6 gyroscope operating at 8,500 rpm.

On Fletcher-class destroyers, these guns were originally mounted in five turrets, though this was reduced to four following SCB 74A modernisation. With an elevation range of +85°/-15°, they fired 127×680 mmR shells weighing between 24 and 25 kg at a rate of 15 rounds per minute, with a muzzle velocity of 790 m/s. Maximum range was 16,000 metres in surface fire mode and 11,300 metres in anti-aircraft mode. The shells could penetrate belt armour up to 127 mm thick at a distance of 3,700 metres, or deck armour up to 25 mm thick at 12,600 metres. The average service life of the gun barrels was approximately 4,600 rounds at full charge.


These islands off the South American coast had been confirmed as Spanish by the Treaty of Utrecht of 1713, but the French established themselves there in what they called les îles Malouines in 1764, and thus claimed by France, an act that provoked strong protests from the Spanish. In 1765, Captain John Byron of the Royal Navy claimed the islands for King George III, as Falkland Islands, and in 1766 a British settlement was established in West Falkland. However, in 1767 the French accepted the Spanish claims over the territory and handed over their colony in East Falkland, today Isla Soledad. In 1770, the Spanish forced the small illegitimate Royal Navy garrison in Puerto Egmont to abandon it. Intense negotiations between the two countries resulted in Britain returning to Port Egmont in 1771, but later Spain reserved the right to sovereignty and the British settlement had to be abandoned in 1774, despite Britain’s futile claims over the islands. The islands remained as the Spanish colony of Islas Malvinas, with continuous Spanish authority and garrison from 1766 until 1811, when authority continued to be exercised from the head of the Viceroyalty of the Río de la Plata due to the Revolution, until Argentina, having achieved independence from Spain in 1816, took possession based on the uti possidetis iuris as heir to the Spanish sovereignty over the islands, and in 1820, with the Malvinas under Spanish possession, the government of the still United Provinces sent a frigate to take possession and reaffirm sovereign rights—finding no authority, garrison, or British possession whatsoever! For they were never British. An Argentine population was established and a governor appointed, which provoked unjustified protests from Britain in 1829 with sovereignty claims it never held. On 10 June 1829, an Argentine military garrison was established in anticipation of arbitrary British claims.

The British scientific oceanographic research vessel RRS (Royal Research Ship) Shackleton, a 1,082-ton ship operated by the British Antarctic Survey, measured 65.78 metres in length, 11.08 metres in beam, and had a draught of 4.66 metres. It was powered by a 6-cylinder MAN diesel engine producing a maximum of 785 BHP at 275 RPM, driving a Kamena controllable-pitch propeller, which enabled a maximum speed of 9.7 knots and an average cruising speed of 7.8 knots. It had an operational autonomy of 28 days and accommodation for 31 personnel.

The vessel was launched on 11 November 1954 by Solvesborgs Varv A/B shipyard in Sölvesborg, Sweden, under the name MV Arendal (III) for service in the Baltic Sea. It was acquired in 1955 by the Falkland Islands Dependency Survey (later the British Antarctic Survey), renamed Shackleton, and re-designated as RRS Shackleton in 1968, undergoing modernisation in 1971. It served extensively in Antarctica and the South Atlantic between 1955 and 1992.

On 4 February 1976, while sailing approximately 125.5 kilometres south of Cape Pembroke, Port Stanley, the capital of the Malvinas/Falkland Islands, returning from a survey mission in surrounding waters as part of the so-called “Shackleton Mission”, the vessel was intercepted by the Argentine Navy destroyer D-24 ARA Almirante Storni of the 2nd Destroyer Division. The Argentine warship attempted to board the vessel, and when the British ship began to flee, it fired several warning shots. However, it ultimately allowed the vessel to escape, escorting it nearly up to the entrance of Port Stanley.

After its service with the British Antarctic Survey, the Shackleton continued to operate under the Natural Environment Research Council (NERC) as an oceanographic research vessel, visiting Antarctica on five more occasions before being retired from NERC service in 1983. That same year, it was renamed Geotek Beta, and in 1984, Profiler. It left South Atlantic operations in 1989 and was reconfigured as a high-resolution seismic and seabed survey ship, operated by Gardline Shipping Limited. It was renamed Sea Profiler in 1992 and remained in service for many more years. The vessel was finally scrapped in New Holland, on the Humber Estuary, in 2011.


In 1831, a dispute over the Argentine apprehension of American seal hunters accused of poaching led to the USS Lexington intervening and destroying fortifications in Puerto Soledad. The Americans unilaterally and illegally declared the islands free of sovereignty before sailing off. Argentine control was immediately reestablished until 1833 when the British war frigate HMS Clio, commanded by Captain John James Onslow, seized the territory, facing almost no Argentine resistance due to a mutiny suffered by the captain of the Argentine schooner Sarandí, José María Pinedo, at the moment of the aggression.

Since the British Empire forcefully invaded the Malvinas Islands on 2 January 1833, expelling the Argentine authorities, Argentina has always pursued a peaceful and patient diplomatic claim for the British invader to rectify its aggressive and illegitimate position, as it had no business in the South Atlantic and the Falkland Islands, not only for being waters and territory under Spanish jurisdiction later inherited by Argentina, but also due to Britain’s own initiative in imposing the Treaty of Utrecht in 1713 upon Spain, in which London authorities renounced all possession, claim, and right in the South Atlantic—something later reaffirmed through various agreements such as the Nootka Convention, which by historical precedent and legal and diplomatic principles left the British Crown with no sovereign right whatsoever in the South Atlantic, and no right to claim anything. Nevertheless, by settling by armed force and invading Argentine territory since 1833, Britain never accepted Argentina’s peaceful claims, showing intransigence in sustaining its colonial position within Argentine territory.

Edward Arthur Alexander Shackleton, Lord Shackleton, was the son of the famed Irish Antarctic explorer Sir Ernest Shackleton (1874–1922), who led the renowned Discovery, Nimrod, and Imperial Trans-Antarctic expeditions to the White Continent in the early 20th century. Sir Ernest was knighted and hailed as a hero among his compatriots in the United Kingdom for his achievements in polar exploration.

His son, however, who led the 1976 fact-finding mission aimed at assessing the economic development potential of the British colonial territory of the Falkland Islands during January and February of that year—a mission that ultimately led to the incident involving the Argentine destroyer ARA Almirante Storni and the British scientific research vessel RRS Shackleton on 4 February 1976—was, at the time, Vice-Chairman of the Falkland Islands Company (FIC). In this role, he was directly invested in maintaining the prevailing status quo.

It is therefore highly likely that the favourable report produced by Lord Shackleton, recommending the continued British control of the Falkland Islands, was influenced by his own personal economic, financial, and commercial interests, as well as those of British oil companies. These same companies had, in fact, previously lobbied the British government to fund the Griffiths Report, presented in March 1975.


Although over time, between the British invasion and the present, in addition to Argentina’s diplomatic claims, a series of physical actions were also undertaken by Argentina, such as the incursion of Navy seaplanes on 22 January 1940 (idem links), which, not being detected by British authorities and not escalating, never carried significant weight in the bilateral relationship between both countries, nor in the series of claims being made. Even an incident carried out by Argentine extremists who hijacked an Argentine-flagged aircraft to land it in then Port Stanley, capital of the Malvinas/Falkland Islands, carried out on 28 and 29 September 1966, also had little relevance as the Argentine authorities were not involved in that clearly criminal act. As a consequence, shortly afterwards the Argentine Navy carried out an incursion of tactical divers via submarine S-11 ARA Santa Fe at Playa Vaca, on 28 October 1966 (idem links), for preventive reconnaissance purposes in the face of a potential military intervention.


Lord Shackleton at his father's hut in Cape Royds, Antarctica.
Edward Arthur Alexander Shackleton, Lord Shackleton, was the son of the famous Irish Antarctic explorer Sir Ernest Shackleton (1874–1922), who led the renowned Discovery, Nimrod, and Imperial Trans-Antarctic expeditions to the White Continent in the early 20th century. Sir Ernest was knighted and is regarded as a hero among his fellow Britons for his achievements in Antarctic exploration. His son, who headed the 1976 mission to assess the economic potential of the British colonial territory of the Malvinas/Falkland Islands — which led to the incident between the Argentine destroyer ARA Almirante Storni and the British scientific research vessel RRS Shackleton on 4 February of that year — was, at the time, Vice-Chairman of the Falkland Islands Company (FIC). As such, he was a key stakeholder in maintaining the existing status quo. It is therefore highly likely that the favourable report he produced — supporting continued British control of the Malvinas/Falklands — was influenced by Lord Shackleton’s own economic, financial, and commercial interests, along with those of British oil companies. These same companies had previously encouraged the UK government to fund the Griffiths Report, presented in March 1975.

A significant event that must be taken into account was when, upon assuming the presidency for the first time, then still Colonel Juan Domingo Perón decided to settle the impressive war debt owed by the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland to Argentina during the course of the Second World War. Despite the fact that Argentine political authorities sympathised with the Axis powers, in essence they maintained their support for the Allied side and supplied it throughout the conflict, especially the United Kingdom, through extensive credit that proved indispensable for the British war effort. However, President Juan Domingo Perón, an unconditional ally of the British Crown and the conservative administration of Winston Spencer Churchill, accepted the imposition of the known Freemason of Blenheim regarding the inconvertibility of the Pound (£) to gold, and the Peronist government settled for the repayment of the debt in exchange for manufactured goods and British property. This was essentially made up mostly of abundant surplus war armament (it was Churchill who equipped the Argentine Armed Forces during Peronism!), plus some newly manufactured aircraft which almost immediately, in a few years, became obsolete (Meteor fighters and Lincoln bombers), the Argentine railways (which had to be almost entirely rebuilt over the next 20 years), and the meat-packing plants (to repay the union favour of the 17 October 1945 march to release Perón, who was imprisoned for his “arrangements” with unions, a march that began with full backing from British-owned meatpacking plants in the southern Greater Buenos Aires area). However, the latter fell into the hands of slave-driving businessmen friendly with the Peronist regime, and labour exploitation and conflicts persisted. But the most striking fact is that during that moment, and throughout both of Perón’s presidencies, at no point did President Perón demand the British withdrawal from the South Atlantic and the immediate decolonisation of Malvinas/Falkland, South Georgia and South Sandwich Islands, despite Britain’s economic and political weakness and the fact that at that moment Britain was a debtor to Argentina, and at a time when the British colonial empire was collapsing across the planet.

Lord Shackleton visiting his father’s grave in Grytviken, South Georgia, during the controversial 1986 mission to assess the economic development potential of the British colonial territory of the Falkland Islands.

Edward Arthur Alexander Shackleton, Lord Shackleton, was the son of the famed Irish Antarctic explorer Sir Ernest Shackleton (1874–1922), who led the renowned Discovery, Nimrod, and Imperial Trans-Antarctic expeditions to the White Continent in the early 20th century. Sir Ernest was knighted and regarded as a national hero in the United Kingdom for his exploits during these expeditions.

His son, however, who headed the economic survey mission to the Falkland Islands in January and February 1976—which culminated in the incident between the Argentine destroyer ARA Almirante Storni and the British scientific research vessel RRS Shackleton on 4 February of that year—was at the time Vice-Chairman of the Falkland Islands Company (FIC). In that capacity, he was directly invested in maintaining the prevailing status quo.

Given this context, it is highly probable that the favourable report he produced—advocating for the continued British possession of the Falklands—was shaped by Lord Shackleton’s own economic, financial, and commercial interests, along with those of British oil companies, which had already lobbied the UK government to fund the Griffiths Report presented in March 1975.

Despite Argentina’s political inaction at such a favourable moment for the country, British colonial intransigence suffered its first setback on 14 December 1960, when the UN General Assembly issued Resolution 1514, also known as the Declaration on the Granting of Independence to Colonial Countries and Peoples, which became the cornerstone of the decolonisation movement and ended up including the Malvinas/Falkland Islands as a territory to be decolonised, having already been included since 1946 as a non-British territory, i.e. as a colony. For in Chapter XI of the United Nations Charter, Non-Self-Governing Territories are defined as “territories whose peoples have not yet attained a full measure of self-government.” In this sense, the General Assembly, in its Resolution 66 (I) of 14 December 1946, included a list of 72 territories to which Chapter XI of the Charter applied. In 1963, the Special Committee on the Situation with Regard to the Implementation of the Declaration on the Granting of Independence to Colonial Countries and Peoples (also known as the Special Committee on Decolonisation or C-24) approved the preliminary list of Territories to which the Declaration applied (A/5446/Rev.1, annex I), and which currently still appear on the C-24 programme, including 17 Non-Self-Governing Territories among which appear the Malvinas/Falkland Islands and the South Atlantic Islands attached to the colonial administration of Malvinas (South Georgia and South Sandwich Islands). The Member States that have or assume the responsibility to administer these territories are called administering powers, which means they do not exercise sovereign territorial rights of any kind over those territories, but merely administrative authority.

However, Argentina’s protests and claims had not achieved any significant favourable results beyond those indirectly referred to. But on 16 December 1965, perhaps the most valuable diplomatic triumph was achieved when UN General Assembly Resolution 2065 (XX) was adopted, recognising a sovereignty dispute concerning the Malvinas/Falkland archipelago and urging both countries to start negotiations to resolve the issue, safeguarding the “interests” of the inhabitants. Thus, not due to a voluntary British initiative—which for 133 years had dismissed every peaceful Argentine claim—but because the London authorities found themselves politically and diplomatically forced to react to the UN’s insistent Resolutions condemning Britain’s unsustainable colonial position, in January 1966 negotiations began between the British and Argentine delegations. But almost immediately, pressure from the British press, and the intervention of some lobbies—starting with the small Falkland Islands Company, followed by British oil companies, and internal British political matters—caused those negotiations (which had resulted in a Memorandum of Understanding signed in August 1968 suggesting the possibility of a sovereignty transfer based on recognition of Article 73 of the UN Charter) to falter. That article states that “Members of the United Nations which have or assume responsibilities for the administration of territories whose peoples have not yet attained a full measure of self-government recognise the principle that the interests of the inhabitants of these territories are paramount,” and further outlines the obligation to promote their well-being.

The Argentine authorities were very satisfied with this, as it aligned with Resolution 2065 (XX), which demands consideration of the interests of the islands’ population. However, the document was inherently contradictory, as the British government asserted the consent of the settlers as essential for any transfer of sovereignty—thus introducing the concept of self-determination for settlers on colonial territory, something unacceptable. In this sense, the British government created a dilemma: it had initiated sovereignty negotiations with Argentina while simultaneously promising the islanders that sovereignty would not be transferred—therefore the negotiations failed from the outset, as the UK violated UN resolutions regarding settler self-determination.

From 1968 onwards, essentially, the British placed themselves outside the law and all UN provisions for continuing negotiations, showing no genuine will to move forward but instead endlessly delaying their illegitimate colonial presence in Argentine South Atlantic territory. Around this time, the few advances achieved by Argentine authorities in the supposed negotiations with the British Labour government—if any real opportunity ever existed—were soon eclipsed when the Conservative Party came to power.

But that was not all.


The destroyer DD-547 USS Cowell of the US Navy, as previously noted, was refitted under the SCB 74A project (Ship Characteristics Board) in the late 1950s and early 1960s.

This Fletcher-class vessel, launched at the Bethlehem Steel Shipyard on 18 May 1943, was later commissioned into the Argentine Navy as D-24 ARA Almirante Storni (nicknamed "the Greyhound"), part of the 2nd Destroyer Division of the Argentine Sea Fleet. It formed part of the Almirante Brown class, alongside four other ships of the same type, and operated within the 2nd Division together with D-22 ARA Rosales and D-23 ARA Almirante Domecq García, during the final operational years of the Fletcher class in Argentine service.

Measuring 114.7 metres in length, 11.9 metres in beam, and with a draught of 4 metres, it had a displacement of 3,500 tonnes. Powered by two General Electric turbines and four Babcock & Wilcox boilers delivering 600,000 HP, it could reach a top speed of 35 knots, with an operational range of 11,112 kilometres at 15 knots. Its armament was formidable: four Mk-30 127/38 mm mounts, three twin 76.2 mm anti-aircraft mounts, and a complement of approximately 230 personnel.

The vessel was transferred to the Argentine Navy and formally received the Argentine national ensign on 10 December 1971. It served until 21 August 1979 and was sold for scrapping on 29 December 1981. Dismantling took place in 1982 in the town of Campana, Buenos Aires Province.

The single 127/38 mm Mk-30 gun mounts were controlled by an Mk-37 fire control director, originally equipped with an Mk-12 fire control radar and an Mk-22 height finder (replaced in the SCB 74A post-war variants used by Argentina with the Mk-25 circular radar), linked to a Mark-1A fire control computer and stabilised by an Mk-6 gyroscope operating at 8,500 rpm. These guns—mounted in five turrets on the original Fletcher-class destroyers but reduced to four following SCB 74A modernisation—had an elevation range of +85°/-15° and fired 127×680 mmR shells weighing 24 to 25 kg at a rate of 15 rounds per minute. Muzzle velocity was 790 m/s, with a maximum range of 16,000 metres in surface fire and 11,300 metres in anti-aircraft fire. The shells could penetrate up to 127 mm of belt armour at 3,700 metres, or 25 mm of deck armour at 12,600 metres. Barrel life averaged around 4,600 full-charge rounds.

At one point, the 2nd Destroyer Division was composed of the five SCB 74A-modernised Fletcher-class destroyers that served in the Argentine Navy as the Almirante Brown class:

  • D-20 ARA Almirante Brown (ex-DD-532 USS Heermann), in service 1962–1979

  • D-21 ARA Espora (ex-DD-670 USS Dortch), in service 1962–1979

  • D-22 ARA Rosales (ex-DD-644 USS Stembel), in service 1962–1981

  • D-23 ARA Almirante Domecq García (ex-DD-630 USS Braine), in service 1971–1982

  • D-24 ARA Almirante Storni (ex-DD-547 USS Cowell), in service 1971–1979

These imposing vessels were eventually decommissioned to be replaced by six next-generation MEKO-140A16 corvettes under the naval plan designed by Admiral Massera. These represented the most advanced class of warship in the Argentine Navy during the 1970s and 1980s and were built at the Argentine AFNE shipyard. They remain, to this day, the primary component of the Argentine Sea Fleet. However, due to the complete lack of modernisation throughout their service lives—and the failure to replace them with more advanced warships—resulting from the controversial process of unilateral disarmament and dismantling of Argentina’s Armed Forces and Defence structure, initiated in 1983 and deepened in 2003, they have now lost nearly all combat capability. Without modernisation, they have effectively become simple offshore patrol vessels in the ongoing transformation of the Argentine Navy into a Naval National Guard or Coast Guard-style force, a process that is effectively leading to its eradication.

From Argentina, it was decided to adopt a posture that years later would be incredibly repeated to a great extent during the Menem administration, consisting of the inert “seduction” policy—something like taking the kelpers (as the British call the Malvinas/Falkland settlers, due to the kelp seaweed along the coasts of the archipelago—although today the settlers call themselves Falklanders, from Falkland Islands inhabitants) for fools—assuming they were idiots, which they obviously were not. Thus, and childishly seeking to soften the British position, Argentina opted for the curious strategy of freezing the sovereignty issue, in order to establish a communications agreement that would allow for a bond of trust and dialogue with the kelpers, always with the intention of reintroducing the sovereignty issue in the future.

Two single closed-base ring mounts Mk-30 of 127/38 mm (5-inch) calibre aboard the Fletcher-class destroyer DD-551 USS David W. Taylor, of the same type as those used to harass the RRS Shackleton on 4 February 1976 by the Fletcher-class Argentine Navy destroyer D-24 ARA Almirante Storni.

The single Mk-30 127/38 mm gun mounts were controlled by an Mk-37 fire control director, originally equipped with an Mk-12 fire control radar and an Mk-22 height finder (replaced in the post-war SCB 74A variants used by Argentina with the Mk-25 circular radar). The system was connected to a Mark-1A fire control computer and stabilised by an Mk-6 gyroscope operating at 8,500 rpm.

On Fletcher-class destroyers, these guns were originally fitted in five turrets, reduced to four after SCB 74A modernisation. With an elevation range of +85°/-15°, they fired 127×680 mmR shells weighing 24 to 25 kg at a rate of 15 rounds per minute. Muzzle velocity was 790 m/s, with a maximum surface range of 16,000 metres and an anti-aircraft range of 11,300 metres. The shells could penetrate belt armour up to 127 mm thick at a distance of 3,700 metres, or deck armour up to 25 mm thick at 12,600 metres. The average barrel life was approximately 4,600 rounds at full charge.


In that way, in July 1971, the “Buenos Aires Joint Declaration” took place, establishing the framework of the agreement whereby Argentina committed to establish air and sea communications with the islands, provide health and educational assistance to the islanders, supply fuel at a differential price, offer postal, telephone, and telegraph services, and build an airstrip for commercial aircraft near Port Stanley.

Two sailors pose in front of the single Mk-30 127/38 mm gun mounts on the destroyer D-24 ARA Almirante Storni. These guns were controlled by an Mk-37 fire control director, originally equipped with an Mk-12 fire control radar and an Mk-22 height finder (replaced in the post-war SCB 74A variants used by Argentina with the Mk-25 circular radar), linked to a Mark-1A fire control computer and stabilised by an Mk-6 gyroscope operating at 8,500 rpm.

On Fletcher-class destroyers, these guns were originally mounted in five turrets, reduced to four following SCB 74A modernisation. With an elevation range of +85°/-15°, they fired 127×680 mmR shells weighing between 24 and 25 kg at a rate of 15 rounds per minute. Muzzle velocity was 790 m/s, with a maximum range of 16,000 metres in surface fire and 11,300 metres in anti-aircraft fire. These shells could penetrate belt armour up to 127 mm thick at 3,700 metres, or deck armour up to 25 mm thick at 12,600 metres. The average barrel life was approximately 4,600 full-charge rounds.


The initiative benefited the settlers and represented no cost or concession on the British side, so there was no British objection to its signing or implementation. However, when in the following years Argentina attempted to bring up again the issue of sovereignty, including the claim over South Georgia and South Sandwich Islands, which the British had unilaterally and arbitrarily taken in the early 20th century—even though they were under Argentine possession (idem links)—and then linked them administratively and colonially as dependencies of the Falkland Islands, despite not being part of the Malvinas/Falkland group, Argentina initiated claims some years after Britain took possession, having only realised the takeover belatedly.

The British government then showed inflexibility, evading or delaying negotiations as much as possible, and flatly refusing to discuss the Argentine claim, considering it a completely separate matter about which there was nothing to negotiate.

Given the British intransigence and their own contradictions, which generated irreconcilable positions on the Malvinas/Falkland and other South Atlantic islands, it was no surprise that talks reached a deadlock by 1973.

Destroyer D-24 ARA Almirante Storni photographed through the periscope of an Argentine submarine during a naval exercise in the 1970s.

The destroyer D-24 ARA Almirante Storni (nicknamed "the Greyhound") was part of the 2nd Destroyer Division of the Argentine Navy’s Sea Fleet. Formerly the US Navy's DD-547 USS Cowell, a Fletcher-class destroyer launched at the Bethlehem Steel Shipyard on 18 May 1943, it was later modernised under the SCB 74A programme (Ship Characteristics Board) in the late 1950s and early 1960s.

The ship measured 114.7 metres in length, 11.9 metres in beam, and had a draught of 4 metres, displacing 3,500 tonnes. It was capable of a maximum speed of 35 knots, powered by two General Electric turbines and four Babcock & Wilcox boilers delivering a total of 600,000 HP. It had a cruising range of 11,112 kilometres at 15 knots. Its armament included four Mk-30 127/38 mm mounts, three twin 76.2 mm anti-aircraft mounts, and a crew complement of approximately 230 personnel.

Transferred to the Argentine Navy, it was formally commissioned under the Argentine flag on 10 December 1971, serving until 21 August 1979. It was sold for scrapping on 29 December 1981, which took place in 1982 in the town of Campana, Buenos Aires Province.

The single 127/38 mm Mk-30 gun mounts were controlled by an Mk-37 fire control director, originally equipped with an Mk-12 fire control radar and an Mk-22 height finder—replaced in the SCB 74A post-war variants operated by Argentina with the Mk-25 circular radar. The system was linked to a Mark-1A fire control computer and stabilised by an Mk-6 gyroscope operating at 8,500 rpm.

Originally, Fletcher-class destroyers carried five such turrets, though this was reduced to four following SCB 74A modernisation. The guns had an elevation range of +85°/-15°, firing 127×680 mmR shells weighing 24 to 25 kg at a rate of 15 rounds per minute, with a muzzle velocity of 790 m/s. They had a maximum surface range of 16,000 metres and an anti-aircraft range of 11,300 metres. The shells could penetrate up to 127 mm of belt armour at 3,700 metres or 25 mm of deck armour at 12,600 metres. The average barrel life was approximately 4,600 rounds at full charge.

At one time, the 2nd Destroyer Division was composed of the five SCB 74A-modernised Fletcher-class destroyers that served in the Argentine Navy as the Almirante Brown class:

  • D-20 ARA Almirante Brown (ex-DD-532 USS Heermann), in service 1962–1979

  • D-21 ARA Espora (ex-DD-670 USS Dortch), in service 1962–1979

  • D-22 ARA Rosales (ex-DD-644 USS Stembel), in service 1962–1981

  • D-23 ARA Almirante Domecq García (ex-DD-630 USS Braine), in service 1971–1982

  • D-24 ARA Almirante Storni (ex-DD-547 USS Cowell), in service 1971–1979

These formidable vessels were ultimately decommissioned and replaced by six new-generation MEKO-140A16 corvettes, part of the naval plan developed by Admiral Massera. These corvettes were the most advanced warships in the Argentine fleet during the 1970s and 1980s and were built at the AFNE shipyard in Argentina. They remain the core of the Argentine Navy’s Sea Fleet to this day.

However, due to a complete lack of modernisation throughout their operational lives, and the absence of more advanced replacements—as part of the controversial process of unilateral disarmament and dismantling of the Armed Forces and Defence infrastructure initiated in 1983 and deepened in 2003—these ships have now lost almost all of their combat capability. Without any updates, they have effectively been reduced to simple offshore patrol vessels, reflecting the transformation of the Argentine Navy into a Naval National Guard or Coast Guard-type force, a process that is effectively dismantling it.

But in early June 1974, Britain presented to the Argentine Government—then once again led by Lieutenant General Juan Domingo Perón, a long-standing and undisputed British ally—a proposal for joint administration of the islands through a “non-paper” (an unofficial document) aiming to put an end to the sovereignty dispute, proposing the madness of a “condominium”, a two-flag system for something that had never been British, seized by force, and which—unbelievably and unacceptably—was well received in Peronist circles.

Perón himself assured his Foreign Minister Alberto Vignes:

“It’s very convenient. We must accept it. Once we set foot in the Malvinas/Falkland, no one will remove us, and eventually we’ll have full sovereignty.”

But the plan dissolved with Perón’s sudden death on 1 July 1974, exposing just how convenient Perón had been for British interests—so much so that on the day of his death, in Port Stanley, the kelpers and British colonial authorities held a mass in his honour at the Catholic church in Port Stanley, attended by locals, British colonial officials, and some Argentine state employees stationed on the islands.

Thus, the apparent loss of trustworthy interlocutors for the British marked the end of the absurd condominium idea, since his successor, the new constitutional president María Estela Martínez de Perón (“Isabelita”), was an ultranationalist patriot, who—unlike her late husband—did not trust nor like the British (historical and notorious serial violators of treaties) and was not willing to share Argentina’s non-negotiable sovereignty.

From that moment on, Anglo-Argentine relations deteriorated, and tensions increased, stirred by provocations planned by the British political authorities, which in turn generated a social reaction in Argentina that was reflected in the media, with even some outlets suggesting an invasion.

Surprisingly, despite there never being any official hostile position from Argentina, Britain in early 1975 threatened Buenos Aires, stating that any Argentine military act would trigger a British military response.


The 1976 reaction

At the beginning of 1976, as a furious reaction to Argentina’s peaceful and just claims and the lack of Argentine reaction to the provocations stemming from British intransigence and hostility, a comprehensive study of the economy of the Malvinas/Falkland Islands was undertaken by Lord Shackleton, who visited more than 30 islands of the archipelago and even travelled to South Georgia and South Sandwich Islands aboard the Royal Navy polar ship HMS Endurance. This triggered the conflict by obtaining the armed response from Argentina that the British had long desired.

In March 1975, a new factor of strong interest emerged for the British Crown: the potential oil resources of the islands and their surrounding waters. Exploration had begun in 1969, culminating in a report titled “Geology of the Region around the Falkland Islands”, known as the Griffiths Report, commissioned by British oil companies and presented by a team from the University of Birmingham on behalf of the British government.

Coat of arms of the Fletcher-class destroyer, modernised to SCB-74A standard, known as the Almirante Brown class in the Argentine Navy — D-24 ARA Almirante Storni.
 

Ironically, the report contradicted the advice of the Foreign Office, which had recommended that the British government do nothing so as not to provoke Argentina. But as we shall see, London’s true intention was precisely the opposite: to provoke Argentina.

Thus, echoing these developments, on 19 March 1975, the Argentine government warned that it would not recognise the exploitation of natural resources in a territory under dispute, which it considered its own.

In July, the United Kingdom proposed that Argentina discuss the joint development of the South-west Atlantic. The Argentine Foreign Minister accepted the idea, but linked it to the transfer of sovereignty through a fixed-term lease, which included the immediate occupation of South Georgia and South Sandwich Islands with British acquiescence. Britain rejected the proposal, while Argentina refused any talks on economic cooperation that did not include the sovereignty issue.

On 16 October of that year, the British government announced the sending of an economic mission to the islands, headed by Lord Shackleton, and on 22 October, Argentina’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs declared that no official authorisation was granted to the mission. Days earlier, the Ministry had warned that such a mission would "introduce an unpleasant disturbance" in relations between both countries and jeopardise the peaceful resolution of the conflict.

Rescue and boarding launch of the Argentine Navy destroyer D-24 ARA Almirante Storni. This craft was intended to be used to board the British vessel RRS Shackleton on 4 February 1976, after it was intercepted by the Argentine destroyer approximately 125.5 km south of Cape Pembroke, off the coast of the Falkland Islands. However, the British vessel chose to flee towards Port Stanley.

At no point did the commander of the Argentine destroyer intend to damage or sink the intruding vessel. Instead, the Storni limited its response to several warning shots and proceeded to escort—rather than pursue—the Shackleton, following it to within approximately 11 km of the entrance to the British colonial port located on territory unlawfully taken from Argentina.


On 8 November 1975, Argentina’s representative at the UN declared that negotiations were broken off due to the United Kingdom’s unilateral actions, and stated that Argentina would not cease to assert its rights over the islands. The UK, in turn, arbitrarily and grossly considered this statement a unilateral Argentine action.

Later, Argentine Foreign Minister Ángel Federico Robledo invited the United Kingdom to discuss the sovereignty issue, receiving a non-paper in response, informing him that Lord Shackleton would visit the islands on the basis of an invitation—to which Argentina responded with legislation regarding navigation authorisations in Argentine territorial waters.

Thus, despite the protests and warnings from Argentina, the British authorities confirmed the dispatch to the islands of a mission to gather information about the economic potential for the development of the colonial territory, headed by Edward Arthur Alexander Shackleton, Lord Shackleton, son of the renowned Irish Antarctic explorer Sir Ernest Shackleton (1874–1922)—famous for the Discovery, Nimrod, and Imperial Trans-Antarctic expeditions. He had been knighted and was considered a hero in the United Kingdom for his feats during Antarctic explorations.

Lord Edward Shackleton was also vice-president of the FIC (Falkland Islands Company), and as such, one of the main stakeholders in maintaining the status quo.

The constitutional President of the Argentine Nation — María Estela Martínez de Perón — was the first woman in world history to serve as President of a country. She is pictured here alongside the Commander-in-Chief of the Argentine Navy, Admiral Emilio Eduardo Massera, who had been appointed to the position by then-President of Argentina, Lieutenant General Juan Domingo Perón, despite the fact that Massera had been among the naval officers involved in the Revolución Libertadora of 1955, which brought an end to the Peronist regime.

Unlike Perón, María Estela Martínez was firmly anti-British, an ultranationalist with strong patriotic convictions. Although she lacked political finesse in many aspects of governance, in others she proved more assertive than Perón — particularly in the fight against anti-Peronist communist guerrilla groups inspired by Castro and Guevara. She held an uncompromising stance on Argentina’s sovereign claims over the Malvinas (Falkland Islands) and South Atlantic territories, firmly opposing the United Kingdom’s intransigence on the matter.

Admiral Massera, for his part, was a highly capable naval officer and an outstanding commander — arguably one of the most prominent figures in the Argentine Navy since the 19th-century Generation of the 1880s. He played a key role in the defeat of the armed insurgency and was the architect of the most ambitious naval modernisation plan in Argentina’s history. His efforts brought the Argentine Navy to a high standard of naval warfare capability, including advancements in the country’s naval industrial base. Although the rearmament programme was never fully completed due to the shifting political climate after 1983, Massera’s strategic vision left a legacy that, in part, endures despite the progressive decline in the Navy’s combat capacity.

The naval operations carried out in early 1976 amid rising diplomatic tensions with the United Kingdom — culminating in the incident between ARA Almirante Storni and the British research vessel RRS Shackleton — were shaped largely by the willingness of these two Argentine figures to defend the national interest from the positions of authority they held. It was a time of national assertiveness and military resolve, the likes of which few political or military leaders in present-day Argentina would dare to repeat, even within an updated geopolitical context.


He arrived in Port Stanley aboard the Royal Navy polar vessel HMS Endurance on 3 January 1976—a politically inappropriate date and an obvious British provocation, as it marked the 143rd anniversary of the British invasion of the islands and the expulsion of Argentine authorities.

Argentina’s protest reached the OAS (Organisation of American States), which ruled against the British mission for “unilateral innovation”, thus obstructing bilateral negotiations, and in favour of Argentina’s sovereignty over the islands. Britain responded by rejecting the regional statement at the UN Decolonisation Committee, and continued the work of the so-called Shackleton Mission in the archipelago, clearly defying the OAS.

Meanwhile, the British scientific research ship RRS Shackleton (Royal Research Ship), weighing 1,082 tons, serving under the British Antarctic Survey, with 65.78 m length, 11.08 m beam, and 4.66 m draught, powered by a 6-cylinder MAN diesel engine producing 785 BHP at 275 RPM, with a reversible Kamena propeller, allowing it to reach a maximum speed of 9.7 knots, and a cruise speed of 7.8 knots, with an autonomy of 28 days, and accommodation for 31 crew members, had been launched on 11 November 1954 by Solvesborgs Varv A/B shipyard in Sölvesborg, Sweden, as MV Arendal (III) for operations in the Baltic Sea.

It was acquired by the Falkland Islands Dependency Survey (later BAS) in 1955 and named “Shackleton”. In 1968, it was renamed RRS Shackleton and modernised in 1971, serving in Antarctica and the South Atlantic from 1955 to 1992.

At 09:30 a.m. on Wednesday, 4 February 1976, it was sailing approximately 125.5 km south of Cape Pembroke, Port Stanley, capital of the Malvinas/Falkland Islands, returning from geological prospecting in the surrounding waters—part of the Shackleton Mission’s activities—when it was intercepted by the destroyer D-24 ARA Almirante Storni (nicknamed “the Greyhound”), of the 2nd Destroyer Division of the Sea Fleet of the Argentine Navy.

The ship was a former US Navy DD-547 USS Cowell of the Fletcher class, upgraded to SCB 74A standard (Ship Characteristics Board) in the late 1950s and early 1960s, with 114.7 m length, 11.9 m beam, 4 m draught, displacing 3,500 tons, with a top speed of 35 knots, powered by two General Electric turbines and four Babcock & Wilcox boilers, delivering 60,000 HP, and equipped with formidable weaponry centred on four Mk-30 127/38 mm gun mounts. It had been transferred to the Argentine Navy and on 10 December 1971, received the Argentine national flag.


Frigate Captain Ramón Arosa was the commanding officer of the destroyer D-24 ARA Almirante Storni during the incident with the British scientific research vessel RRS Shackleton on 4 February 1976. He is seen here in a photograph from the 1980s, during the presidency of Raúl Ricardo Alfonsín, a left-wing Freemason affiliated with the Socialist International, who initiated a political and ideological vendetta against the Armed Forces and began the unilateral disarmament of the Armed and Security Forces, along with the dismantling of the national Defence and Security apparatus. By then, Arosa held the rank of Vice Admiral and was serving as Commander-in-Chief of the Argentine Navy.

Frigate Captain Ramón A. Arosa, commander of the Argentine destroyer, ordered the British vessel RRS Shackleton to stop its engines, with the intention of boarding and inspecting it, arguing that it was within the 200-nautical-mile limit corresponding to Argentine jurisdiction as per internationally recognised maritime law.

The captain of the British vessel requested instructions from the authorities of the archipelago, and thus, following orders from Neville French, then the colonial English governor of the Malvinas/Falkland Islands, ignored the Argentine orders and continued sailing, as the governor had instructed him in a firm tone to disregard the directives issued by the Argentine destroyer and proceed with his navigation course toward the capital of the Malvinas/Falkland.

Upon seeing that the RRS Shackleton did not stop its engines, disobeying the order to halt, Frigate Captain Arosa ordered—following the **protocol of action for such cases—to fire warning shots across the bow of the British vessel, to compel it to desist from its disobedient conduct.

At the same time, from the air, a SP-2E/H Neptune reconnaissance aircraft of the Naval Exploration Squadron of the Naval Aviation Command of the Argentine Navy, which in previous days had been monitoring the British ship’s activities from long range, took visual contact with the Argentine destroyer's actions, conducting an overflight over both vessels en route to Port Stanley.

Despite the fact that the RRS Shackleton continued on its course in clear disobedience, and although the Argentine destroyer had sufficient speed to intercept the evading vessel and block its course to Port Stanley—and even had the firepower necessary to neutralise it with a single salvo from its Mk-30 127/38 mm guns—Captain Arosa decided not to fire further artillery rounds at the fleeing vessel.

However, a symbolic pursuit was initiated, which only ended at 11 kilometres (about 6 nautical miles) from Port Stanley.

At that point, sadly the ARA Almirante Storni turned back toward the continent.

The clear decision not to fire directly at the RRS Shackleton despite its disobedience, not to block its path to Port Stanley, or even not to enter Port Stanley's harbour, showed that Argentina had no intention whatsoever of causing any damage to the British vessel, nor escalating the incident, but rather to deliver a symbolic display of resolve and firmness, making it clear that the Argentine Republic would not accept British arbitrariness, nor remain passive in the face of a United Kingdom seeking to exploit natural resources in the Malvinas/Falkland area

In this way, a new climate of bilateral tension over the sovereignty issue emerged, which would remain constant in the years to follow—but always with an Argentine position as firm as it was also open to dialogue and negotiation, within the rules established by International Law, and under the framework of the international resolutions issued by the UN—in other words, doing legally everything that the British political authorities repeatedly violated.



The Aftermath

Protests and accusations from both sides followed quickly.

While the British submitted a formal complaint to the Argentine Foreign Ministry and to the UN Security Council, Argentina accused the United Kingdom of violating national maritime jurisdiction and of breaching the agreement not to “innovate” without mutual consent concerning the islands.

The British government sought to play the victim, portraying the incident as a dangerous aggression by an Argentine military vessel against a peaceful ship on a scientific survey mission, omitting any reference to the unilateral nature of its unconsulted actions, despite the agreements in place.

On the next day, 5 February 1976, in the House of Commons (the lower house of the British Parliament), during the 904th session, the incident was addressed among other urgent matters.

At the request of the Conservative MP Mr. Christopher Samuel Tugendhat, Baron Tugendhat, the then Minister of State for Foreign and Commonwealth Affairs, Labour’s Mr. Edward Rowlands, Baron Rowlands CBE, stated—with very little sincerity:

“At 12.30 GMT on 4 February, an Argentine destroyer, the Almirante Storni, fired shots across the bow of the Royal Research Ship Shackleton. The Argentine destroyer threatened to fire at the Shackleton's hull if it did not comply. Subsequently, the destroyer ordered the Shackleton to proceed to the port of Ushuaia, near Cape Horn. The Governor of the Falkland Islands instructed the captain to continue sailing to Port Stanley, which he did, arriving at 20:45 GMT.
The incident took place 78 miles south of Cape Pembroke as the Shackleton was returning from a period of scientific work in the South-west Atlantic as part of an international programme.”

But in truth, the RRS Shackleton was returning from a geological prospecting mission in search of oil, within the disputed area, thus violating all the UN Security Council resolutions and the Memorandum of Understanding signed with Argentina, even ignoring the logical, legal, and sovereign Argentine warnings urging the British to refrain from engaging in such unilateral actions, which endangered any chance of agreement.

The commander of the RRS Shackleton resisted the boarding by the Argentine Navy inspection team, and even more so, refused to proceed to the port of Ushuaia, as demanded by the Argentine naval authority—because doing so would have exposed the illegal activities carried out by the British Antarctic Survey mission prior to being intercepted by the Argentine destroyer.

The Argentine Navy's response to Soviet and Bulgarian intrusions on 21 September 1977 was just as forceful as its actions against the British on 4 February 1976. For the political authorities of the time, the defence of national sovereignty made no distinction between capitalist or Marxist aggressors, whether from the right or the left — the foremost priority was defending the Homeland.

On that occasion, seven Soviet vessels and two Bulgarian ships were seized by Argentine warships — a firm response that would have been unthinkable to allow what has been tolerated by Argentine political leadership over the past 15 years: fleets of 300 to 400 predatory fishing vessels plundering Argentine maritime resources and devastating the ecological balance of the South Atlantic.

In the case of the British vessel RRS Shackleton, due to ongoing diplomatic negotiations aimed at resolving the sovereignty dispute over the Falkland Islands, a degree of restraint was exercised — reflecting Argentina’s long-standing commitment to dialogue and peaceful resolution, consistently upheld since the 1833 British occupation. However, the warning issued on 4 February 1976 made clear — as history would show six years later — that Argentina’s patience was not unlimited.

(Photo: La Razón newspaper, Buenos Aires, 22 September 1977)


Although the level of conflict gradually diminished in the days that followed, it became clear that there were two clearly opposing positions, difficult to reconcile in order to achieve an atmosphere of understanding and regional calm.

Thus, the British discourse began to incorporate the problematic and illegal notion of "respecting the wishes of the islanders", in contrast to the Argentine position, backed by UN Resolution 2065 (XX), which refers to safeguarding the interests of the islanders. This difference would later become crucial in blocking any possibility of agreement in future negotiations.

From Argentina’s side, and in respect not only of its own claims but also of the UN provisions, the United Kingdom would not be recognised as having the authority to carry out economic development in the archipelago.

The British scientific oceanographic research vessel RRS (Royal Research Ship) Shackleton, a 1,082-ton ship operated by the British Antarctic Survey (BAS), measured 65.78 metres in length, 11.08 metres in beam, and had a draught of 4.66 metres. It was powered by a 6-cylinder MAN diesel engine producing a maximum of 785 BHP at 275 RPM, driving a Kamena controllable-pitch propeller that enabled a top speed of 9.7 knots and an average cruising speed of 7.8 knots. The vessel had an endurance of 28 days, with accommodation for a crew of 31 berths.

It was launched on 11 November 1954 by the Solvesborgs Varv A/B shipyard in Sölvesborg, Sweden, as MV Arendal (III) for operations in the Baltic Sea. It was acquired in 1955 by the Falkland Islands Dependency Survey (later the British Antarctic Survey), renamed Shackleton, and re-designated RRS Shackleton in 1968 following modernisation in 1971. It served extensively in the Antarctic and South Atlantic regions between 1955 and 1992.

On 4 February 1976, the vessel was sailing approximately 125.5 kilometres south of Cape Pembroke, Port Stanley — capital of the Falkland Islands — returning from survey work in surrounding waters as part of the "Shackleton Mission", when it was intercepted by the Argentine Navy destroyer D-24 ARA Almirante Storni of the 2nd Destroyer Division. The destroyer attempted to close in, but after the British vessel began to flee, the Storni fired several warning shots. It ultimately allowed the Shackleton to escape, escorting it nearly to the entrance of Port Stanley.

After its service with the British Antarctic Survey, the Shackleton was transferred to the Natural Environment Research Council (NERC) as an oceanographic research vessel, visiting Antarctica five more times before being retired from NERC service in 1983. That same year, it was renamed Geotek Beta, and in 1984, Profiler. It left South Atlantic operations in 1989 and was reconfigured as a high-resolution seismic and seabed survey vessel, operated by Gardline Shipping Limited. It was renamed Sea Profiler in 1992 and continued in service for many years. The vessel was scrapped in New Holland, on the Humber Estuary, in 2011.



At that moment, the United Kingdom was already engaged in the Third Cod War with Iceland, and tried to cool down the conflict with Argentina, although without changing its traditional resistance to addressing the core issue.

The foreign ministries of both countries pledged to restart dialogue, although the Foreign Office informed Argentine authorities that its government was prepared to defend the islands in the event of a hypothetical Argentine reoccupation.

Argentina insisted on addressing the heart of the matter. In the words of the new Argentine Foreign Minister Raúl Quijano:

“... the centre of our discussion is sovereignty...
We cannot move forward, and if the United Kingdom does not want to discuss this issue, then we cannot deal with the other matters. Of course, we are very interested in economic cooperation and communications, but without sovereignty, these are much more peripheral issues.”

The United Kingdom responded by sending to Port Stanley the frigate HMS Chichester, a Type 61 Salisbury-class vessel, launched in 1955, with a displacement of 2,400 tons and a length of 100 metres. Although it was more modern than the Brown-class destroyers like the ARA Almirante Storni, it was less powerful, with only a twin 114/45 mm Mk-6 turret, some light anti-aircraft weapons, and only a slight advantage in electronics.

Later, at the end of 1976, the Argentine Navy secretly landed a military party for scientific tasks on Southern Thule, in the South Sandwich Islands. This Argentine presence was detected by the Royal Navy’s polar vessel HMS Endurance, but considering the British stance towards these islands—which they knew did not belong to them either—the event was kept secret in London until May 1978, in order to avoid negative reactions from the press and political opposition.

Britain merely sent a quiet protest to Buenos Aires, although in fact it expected a stronger Argentine reaction, since the Argentine Armed Forces were already involved in contingency planning in case of British retaliation, including the possibility of invading the islands, though such actions did not occur at the time.

Despite these events, negotiations resumed openly in 1977 (after secret preparatory talks). However, the situation continued to deteriorate.

On 21 September 1977, Argentine FRAM-type destroyers seized 7 Soviet and 2 Bulgarian fishing vessels in disputed waters near the Malvinas/Falkland Islands. During the operation, one of the Bulgarian vessels was fired upon, and a crew member was injured. The seized ships were taken to Puerto Madryn, because at that time, no one dared to operate with fishing fleets of 300 vessels in Argentine waters, plundering resources without facing consequences—thereby showing that the intention with the RRS Shackleton was clearly never even to scratch its paint.

In addition, Argentina’s other major territorial claim, against Chile over the Beagle Channel, saw the failure of British arbitration, as by then it had become clear that Britain’s stance was biased, and it was no longer seen as a neutral party—despite having originally been accepted by both South American countries as arbitrator.

Thus, while Argentina was only just beginning to emerge from its long struggle against terrorism—which had begun when subversive groups, serving foreign powers (USSR, Czechoslovakia, and Cuba), began to attack Argentina irregularly and brutally from 1959 onwards—the nation now focused its attention on Chile.


The Type 61 Salisbury-class frigate F-59 HMS Chichester of the Royal Navy was deployed as the station ship at Port Stanley following the incident between the British research vessel RRS Shackleton and the Argentine destroyer ARA Almirante Storni on 4 February 1976.

This frigate was a Type 61 vessel of the Salisbury class, launched in 1955, with a displacement of 2,400 tonnes and a length of 100 metres. It was powered by eight ASR1 diesel engines delivering 12,400 shp to two shafts, allowing a maximum speed of 24 knots and an operational range of 13,900 kilometres at 16 knots. Although more modern than the Almirante Brown-class destroyers such as ARA Almirante Storni, it was less heavily armed, equipped with only a single twin Mk-6 114/45 mm gun mount, two twin Bofors Mk-2/5 40/60 mm light anti-aircraft mounts, and a single Squid anti-submarine mortar. It had only a slight edge in electronics but still required a large crew complement of 235 — excessive for its size and armament.

Nevertheless, and at the risk of escalating the situation, in response to the incident, British authorities in London also covertly deployed a nuclear-powered attack submarine to patrol the waters around the Falkland Islands. In addition, two more frigates were dispatched to support HMS Chichester, although they remained at sea some 1,600 kilometres from the islands. Officially, it is not known whether the Argentine Navy detected or tracked their presence — just as, on other occasions, British naval authorities did not register Argentine naval or naval air activity.

Nevertheless, and at the risk of triggering a dangerous situation, the United Kingdom also responded by secretly deploying a nuclear attack submarine to the waters near the Malvinas/Falkland Islands, and also sending two additional frigates to reinforce the HMS Chichester, although these remained stationed approximately 1,600 kilometres from the islands.

Rules of engagement were drafted, but Buenos Aires was not informed, and to this day, there is no official information confirming whether the Argentine Navy ever detected or recorded these British deployments.

What happened afterwards is well known. But by February 1976, it had already become clear that those who had done everything possible to prevent any negotiation to resolve the Malvinas/Falkland conflict from reaching a positive outcome were the British.

They did so by violating every international resolution, breaking all signed agreements, taking arbitrary and unilateral actions, provoking Argentina, disregarding international law, and all the while, without ever having been sovereign over the Malvinas/Falkland or the South Atlantic, they had already spent 143 years as invaders on the islands.