Saturday, March 21, 2026

Malvinas: Jeremy Moore, His Ostracism

 

“The Ostracism of Jeremy Moore”

One does not always receive a warm welcome on returning from a war. And this applies not only to the defeated, but also to the victors. Even, indeed, to supposedly victorious generals.

Of the three British generals who directed operations on land, two were forced into retirement after the conflict because of their poor handling of the wartime situation. Not even the supreme commander of the British land forces sent to Malvinas, Major General John Jeremy Moore of the Royal Marines, escaped ostracism. After the conflict, following only the minimal and strictly prescribed honours required by law (he was merely made a Knight Commander of the Order of the Bath, which he had already received in 1973), he made a very swift and discreet exit from the service in 1983.

Margaret Thatcher’s government never forgave him for the setbacks of the campaign, of which there were no few for the British. He was also held responsible for the disaster at Bluff Cove, a landing near Puerto Argentino which ended with two ships put out of action and heavy human and material losses as a result of attacks by the Argentine Air Force. Nor was it of any help that he sent to London what he himself called daily rubbish — rubbish or daily drivel, in plain terms. These were colloquial-style messages, full of optimism to the point of stretching credibility, concealing the fact that he was unable to secure the great and rapid victory being demanded of him, with which the Argentines stubbornly refused to cooperate, clinging fiercely to every inch of ground.

However, what sealed his fate was his disobedience of the order to demand an unconditional surrender from the Argentines. After the conflict had ended, Moore said that he had been greatly troubled by the possibility that fighting might resume. Although the Argentines had withdrawn from the heights dominating the capital, the British were equally exhausted and short of ammunition. For that reason, he removed the word unconditional from the instrument of surrender.

In an article written by Ana Barón shortly before the first anniversary of the war for Gente magazine, it was stated: “Today Jeremy Moore is no longer a general. This man has become one of the approximately four million unemployed in Great Britain. His pension is 1,500 dollars a month, that is to say half the salary he earned when he was still in service. Evidently, that sum is not enough to pay for the education of his three children: for the time being he manages by making television programmes about the war. But he knows that this is not a solution. At fifty-four years of age, no one resigns himself to being without work, much less someone who has led a life as eventful as General Moore’s.”

In that interview — conducted despite the obstacles placed by the British Ministry of Defence, which claimed not to know where Moore was living — he declared in a tone of regret: “I feel great sadness when I think that we had to endure a war simply because there were people with political power who did not know how to solve the problem by peaceful means.”

He never wished to write a book about the war, and passed his idle hours serving as churchwarden of the church in Wiltshire where he lived, until his death on Saturday, 15 September 2007.

It was not until Monday the 17th that The Times published his obituary. Naturally, it extolled his figure as a military leader. An obituary written in very professional terms… and nothing more.

In the same newspaper, the obituary for Galtieri, who died on 12 January 2003, not only appeared the day after the event, but was also twice the length of the one devoted to Moore.

The Guardian and The Daily Telegraph published the news the following day. In the former, it appeared only on page 42 of the main section, and on the Telegraph website the story did not receive a single comment. For its part, The Independent did not report his death until 26 September.

The British Ministry of Defence, when consulted by the AFP news agency, said that “no comment was to be made on his death”, arguing that “he was no longer in active service”.

Wednesday, March 18, 2026

Malvinas: The Medical Unit in Combat (Part 1)

The Medical Unit in Combat (Part 1)

Private “VGM” DAVID DIAZ






As I belonged to the Medical Unit of the Service Company, when the detachment that was to depart for the Malvinas was being formed, I was assigned as a stretcher-bearer together with Private Dardo Romacho, who had studied medicine and was from Añatuya. Like the rest of the members of the Military Aviation School, we left for Comodoro Rivadavia, then for Puerto Argentino, and finally for Goose Green.

At first we were quartered in an old school together with members of the Argentine Army’s 25th Infantry Regiment. We were then moved to one of the islanders’ empty houses, since, by order of the commanders of the various detachments, the Kelpers had been instructed to leave their homes and go to live all together in the church, as a way of keeping them under control and preventing them from carrying out intelligence activities or observing our positions, movements, and so forth.

After the British attack of 1 May, we occupied a house located between Darwin and Goose Green. With regard to that first enemy attack, I remember that on that day I was on guard duty at the Command Post, and I was feeling rather sad because I was thinking of my beloved Santiago, since that day is Labour Day and in my city people go to Aguirre Park intending to spend a pleasant day, eating barbecues and dancing chacareras. I would normally go there with my family and friends. But that nostalgia was abruptly interrupted when I suddenly heard a very loud noise and saw, on the horizon, two aircraft coming straight at us dropping bombs.

By instinct I threw myself flat on the ground and managed to escape unharmed, but unfortunately other comrades were not so lucky and were hit by the aircraft’s accurate fire, some losing their lives and others being wounded. Sadly, the members of the Medical Unit were given the most thankless mission, having to move and bury the dead and tend to the wounded. Private Romacho normally dealt with the wounded because he had medical knowledge, while I had to deal with the dead. As I could not carry out this task alone, First Lieutenant Beranek asked for two soldiers to be assigned to assist me. They dug the graves, while I wrapped the dead in black plastic zip bags, and then we buried them.

“It was a very hard experience for me, one that marked me for life,” because it was the first time I had ever had to touch a dead person or help treat the wounded. The impact this had on me was such that I did not eat for three days.

Two days later, while we were digging the last graves for burial, we were attacked by a formation of Sea Harrier aircraft which flew over our heads. As soon as we heard the alarms, we “dived head-first” into the graves, thus avoiding being cut down by the bullets that were “sweeping the ground”. Once the assigned task had been completed, I went to the settlement, where I obtained timber and nails, built some crosses, and placed them on the makeshift graves as a sign of Christian respect and to honour their memory.

In one of those attacks, I remember that one of the pilots ejected wounded as a result of shots fired by Private Loaiza, but when he hit the ground he died. Once again I had the sad mission of burying him. He was a heavily built man, and it took me a great deal of effort to wrap him in plastic because his body was very contracted and partly burnt. I had to cut the tendons below the knee, bend his leg, and in that way I was able to fit him into the bag.

But besides carrying out that very hard task, I also performed medical duties, that is, supporting the men through treatment, providing them with medicines, and so forth, which gave me some comfort because I was helping to relieve people’s suffering. In general, our function was to go round the positions every day handing out a pill that we called a “vitamin” tablet because it “gave greater strength and endurance”, as it allowed us to stand guard and work for several hours without feeling any tiredness at all.

We provided medical support both to Air Force personnel and to the Army soldiers. The fact of taking our medical support to the personnel defending the Darwin area, Goose Green, and other places on East Malvinas allowed me to get to know many people and places, and to take part in and witness events which I shall now relate.

One day we stretcher-bearers were ordered to move under Corporal Waitima’s command to a place on the island where a ship carrying survivors had run aground. We were loaded into a helicopter and, when we reached the ship, we could see that it was half-sunk, but we saw no sign of any living personnel. On the way back, the helicopter pilot, faced with the presence of enemy aircraft, began flying at ground level, skimming past the mountains, until he landed and ordered us to evacuate quickly and take up position well away from the aircraft. And so we remained for more than two hours, and when we were sure that the danger had passed, we boarded again, took off, and were able to return to our positions.

Another event in which my companion Romacho and I took part occurred when, in the midst of the calm of a sunny and peaceful day, we first heard the alarm sound, then anti-aircraft fire, and finally saw a combat aircraft crash. Unfortunately, it was a Navy aircraft that had entered the exclusion zone without requesting due authorisation. In that incident its pilot, Lieutenant Gavazzi, was killed. Romacho was ordered to go to the site where the aircraft had come down and bring back the deceased. When he returned, he brought only some human remains that had been scattered around the aircraft. We buried him together with the others.

One day a Prefecture launch approached, bringing us medicine and food. As it entered San Carlos Strait, it was attacked by two Sea Harrier aircraft. In that action one person was killed and two others were wounded. The latter were evacuated by helicopter to Puerto Argentino, and the dead man was buried in the cemetery that, without intending to, we had inaugurated.

One morning, while we were resting, we were ordered to go to Elephant Bay to collect an English pilot who had ejected and, after falling into the water, had been rescued by an Argentine Commando, who had taken him prisoner. We went by helicopter and brought him back together with the commando, who spoke perfect English. The prisoner had a fractured collarbone and, after receiving first aid, he was transferred to Puerto Argentino.


Sunday, March 15, 2026

Argentine Aircrafts: IA.37, Mach 2 that Would Never be Achieved


The IA.48, absolute ambition


If the IA.37 was the promise, the IA.48 was absolute ambition. It was the final evolution of Reimar Horten’s supersonic interceptor concept at the Fábrica Militar de Aviones (FMA).

There is often confusion between the two, but the IA.48 was a far more complex and powerful machine. Here’s what we know about this “fighter of the future” that never came to be:

  1. The leap to Mach 2
    While the IA.37 was designed to brush the speed of sound (Mach 1.2), the IA.48 aimed to reach Mach 2.2. To achieve this, Horten moved away from a simple delta-wing design and proposed a much more refined configuration:

  • Wing planform: an ogival delta wing with a very sharp leading edge, optimised for sustained high supersonic speeds.






  1. Engines in pods: Unlike the IA.37 (which had the engine in the fuselage), the IA.48 was to have two Rolls-Royce Avon turbojets mounted in pods beneath the wings (or integrated, depending on the design phase). This freed up space in the fuselage for fuel and radar equipment.

  2. Innovation for the Navy: “blown flaps”.
    One of the most interesting aspects of the IA.48 was the Argentine Navy’s interest. For a fighter that fast to land on an aircraft carrier (such as ARA Independencia), it needed a low approach speed. Horten designed a blown-flap system that used engine bleed air to generate extra lift at low speeds. This was cutting-edge technology, only just beginning to be adopted by the major world powers.

  3. The wind tunnel and real progress.
    The IA.48 was not just a paper concept. Extensive tests were carried out:

  • 1:25 scale stainless-steel models were built.

  • They were tested in supersonic wind tunnels, reaching simulated speeds of up to 2,000 km/h.

  • The results confirmed the wing shape was excellent for transonic and hypersonic flight.

  1. Why was it cancelled?
    In 1960, the project was abruptly cancelled, along with the IA.37. The reasons were a mix of factors that repeatedly affected the national industry:

  • Economics: Minister Álvaro Alsogaray implemented an extremely strict austerity plan that cut funding for the FMA’s long-term projects.

  • External pressure: There was a strong tendency to abandon domestic development and instead buy surplus US equipment (such as F-86 Sabres), which was cheaper in the short term but undermined local engineering.




A detail to avoid confusion.

It’s common online to see mention of TC-48, but that was a Douglas DC-4 (a real transport aircraft that disappeared in 1965 in a tragic accident). IA.48 refers strictly to Horten’s supersonic fighter project.

Projected technical summary

  • Maximum speed: Mach 2.2 (approx. 2,300 km/h)

  • Crew: 1 or 2 (depending on the all-weather interceptor version)

  • Armament: Air-to-air missiles and 30 mm cannon(s)


Friday, March 13, 2026

Malvinas: Cover Operation Blackleg

The Royal Navy lost several warships to air attacks during the 1982 Malvinas War. One of them, the destroyer HMS Coventry, sank in relatively shallow waters, and London feared that the Soviets might attempt to strip the wreck of highly classified equipment and documents. A bold underwater salvage mission was organised using a team of Royal Navy divers to recover the classified material, initially designated Operation Blackleg. It was a highly risky and dangerous mission carried out under extremely difficult circumstances.

Saturday, March 7, 2026

A-4Q Skyhawk Last Outfit



The last “outfit” of the A-4Q Skyhawk

Sean Eternos los Laureles




This camouflage scheme is a consequence of the massacre of A-4Q “Skyhawks” at the hands of Sea Harriers on 21 May 1982 over San Carlos Strait. They detected them after being tracked by the CIC of HMS “Hermes” and vectored towards them; but when the British pilots reached the estimated area, they did not find the target because the A-4Qs were flying at sea level and the FRS.1’s Blue Fox radar did not have Doppler scan (on the FA.2 it was replaced by the more capable Blue Vixen with pulse-Doppler), so they could not pick up our Skyhawks. However, at the last moment they almost by chance spotted three white dots moving over a dark grey stretch of water in the strait, and that was enough: the Sea Harriers pounced on the Argentine Skyhawks, which at first had not even noticed their presence. Quickly, Márquez’s 3-A-314 was hit by 30 mm ADEN cannon fire from Leeming’s FRS.1 XZ500; and Philippi’s 3-A-307 was struck by an AIM-9L missile from Morrell’s FRS.1 XZ457. 



Both were shot down: Márquez was killed in that action, while Philippi managed to eject. Meanwhile, César Arca in 3-A-312 spotted what was happening and began desperate evasive manoeuvres, limited by the low-level flight profile he was maintaining (seeking to “merge” with enemy radars and missiles using ground/sea clutter), until a number of 30 mm ADEN rounds from Morrell’s FRS.1 XZ457 hit him as well. Even so, thanks to his impressive skill on the stick and pedals (he had no other defence), Arca managed to escape with his damaged Skyhawk, and the Sea Harriers, already short of fuel, could not pursue him at sea level, where their Mk.104 Pegasus engines would guzzle kerosene at rates that would prevent them returning to the carrier. Thus, with serious damage and leaking fuel, unable to get back to Río Grande, Tierra del Fuego, Arca managed to fly as far as Puerto Argentino in the hope of making an emergency landing on the runway. But controllers on the ground warned him that one leg of the landing gear had not deployed. At that point Arca decided to abandon the aircraft, since landing on the runway was impossible. He ejected while the aircraft continued flying and began to turn, threatening to collide with the pilot already hanging under his parachute—so from the ground the decision was taken to shoot the aircraft down with Argentine anti-aircraft artillery, and it crashed some 400 metres from the runway.

The A-4Qs had already completed their attack on the Type 21 frigate HMS “Ardent”, which was also attacked by other Navy A-4Qs, and by Air Force Daggers and A-4Bs, and ended up sinking (as can be clearly seen in the photos. Attack and sinking of HMS “Ardent”. But during their escape, Philippi’s 1st Section was betrayed by its light grey paint (which from a distance looked white to the Sea Harrier pilots!!!) against the dark South Atlantic, and that proved fatal for Skyhawks in retreat: with no warning systems or active or passive countermeasures, with no weapons to defend themselves (even the 20 mm ammunition for the Colt cannons had already been fired at “Ardent”), and without enough fuel to manoeuvre in air combat and then reach the KC-130H tankers and return to the mainland.

The A-4Qs were cleared to carry AIM-9B Sidewinder missiles; in fact, on 1 and 2 May 1982, two A-4Qs were aboard the aircraft carrier ARA “25 de Mayo” in an air-defence role (the other six A-4Qs were held with bombs to attack enemy ships), when—together with the two Argentine Type 42 destroyers (ARA “Hércules” and ARA “Santísima Trinidad”)—it tried to close within range of the Task Force. Despite having two aircraft carriers equipped with between 24 and 28 Sea Harrier fighters, and having between 6 and 10 escorting destroyers and frigates, the British avoided combat thanks to their higher speed. They could have ended the war that same day if they had managed to destroy the small Argentine naval group, since at all times they knew the Argentine formation’s position—whether through satellite tracking provided by the USA, and also by the nuclear submarine HMS “Spartan”, which from 28 or 29 April was pursuing the Argentine carrier; and even via a Sea Harrier that, while trying to shoot down an Argentine S-2E Tracker, came within range of the Argentine escorts’ Sea Dart missiles and had to break off. The Royal Navy, at the maximum speed its engines could provide, preferred to run away from the Argentine Navy!

It is evident that, face to face—and with sufficient anti-aircraft armament and fuel in the capable Skyhawks, and with our Navy’s experienced pilots—the outcome might have been very different…; because on 1 and 2 May a British naval force two to three times larger than the Argentine naval formation, and with three or more times Argentina’s air capability, the Royal Navy chose to flee for two whole days at full speed rather than confront Argentine sailors with their old aircraft—already suspecting the lethality of our pilots with their ageing mounts and weapons.

But on 21 May the die was cast. Much of the Royal Navy was anchored in San Carlos Bay landing troops, with the rest sailing nearby to block the entry routes of Argentine air attack formations. Thanks to experienced British commanders who planned the defensive scheme well, almost every approach run towards the enemy troop and cargo transports was covered by British escorts, so that Argentine aircraft inevitably ran into frigates or destroyers (which in turn covered one another and were also covered from land by Rapier missile launchers) before our aircraft could reach the transports. Again and again they were forced to bomb escorts without being able to strike the transports. In that picture, the case of HMS “Ardent” was different: in the middle of San Carlos Strait she was shelling Argentine positions at Darwin, seeking to pin them down to prevent them moving towards the San Carlos beachhead—something impossible for our troops, who could only arrive on foot with whatever weapons and ammunition they could carry, exposed to enemy air and naval attacks, to face thousands of well-equipped and well-supported British troops. But the British did not want to risk the entire landing operation because of that. And once again they risked an escort ship to achieve their aims (that is what such ships are for), and HMS “Ardent” was that ship. By harassing Argentine troops ashore, she quickly drew the attention of Argentine aviation and concentrated no fewer than five attack missions involving more than 15 aircraft, which tore her to pieces—while also drawing attacks away from the beachhead. Argentina lost three A-4Q fighter-bombers, curiously—and this is the key detail—because they were painted white, which is how British pilots perceived them from a distance, intercepted them and shot them down. In other circumstances at that distance, aircraft camouflaged like the Air Force Daggers and A-4Bs would have gone unnoticed (not at closer range, where they would still have been spotted by eye). The camouflage scheme of Argentina’s naval Skyhawks, obviously combined with the circumstances and the long-range attack profile—fuel-limited, without passive-defence systems, without self-defence missiles, and flying at sea level as the only form of evasion—proved fatal for the Argentine aircraft.

The Argentine Navy took note of this as operations developed, realising that the US Navy scheme on Argentina’s naval fighter-bombers was not suitable for the South Atlantic. And so, after this incident, they set about “hiding” the conspicuous Skyhawks from the enemy’s eye.

On that basis, several schemes were tested during and after the war, as seen in the images, all of them far more effective than the US Navy’s pearl-grey/white. In the end it was concluded that naval grey was the most suitable, both because these aircraft operated primarily over a naval environment, and because it also proved effective over land—at least in island theatres and along the Patagonian coasts of the South Atlantic. In addition, insignia and numbers were reduced or eliminated to the minimum, although a striking light blue and white rudder was retained, which—while suitable for peacetime—would very likely have been covered or blurred in wartime, in the manner of British Sea Harriers and Harriers during the conflict. On the way to the Malvinas they removed all markings that might stand out to the human eye (or optical sensors) in a theatre like the South Atlantic, even eliminating the white ring of the roundel on wings and fuselage—including on the Vulcans, Victors, Nimrods and Hercules used from Ascension Island, and the Phantoms that provided air defence at Ascension.

On the underside of the Skyhawks, a medium-tone grey was adopted, more compatible with the sky when viewed by enemy anti-aircraft gunners with the aircraft silhouetted against a sky background.

This was the scheme with which the Douglas A-4Q Skyhawk “retired” from the Argentine Navy without receiving an adequate replacement, around 1988, although some aircraft still flew in the old US Navy scheme, since it was known their service life would soon end—as it did—and they did not invest even in paint to camouflage them. Even so, it is obvious that if a mobilisation like those of 1982—or even 1978—had occurred (in 1978 very effective protective schemes had also been tested), it is hard to understand why, as soon as the Argentine mobilisation to respond to the British attack began in 1982 (from 7 April), the Skyhawks were not camouflaged. The Task Force sailed on 5 April towards the Malvinas, but Argentina waited 48 more hours before decreeing a massive mobilisation of troops and equipment to the islands, waiting to see what measures the UN would adopt, since Resolution 502 of 3 April 1982—requiring a cessation of hostilities and withdrawal of troops from the area—was in force for both Argentina and Great Britain. Yet while Argentina, on the very same 2 April 1982 when we recovered the islands, had begun withdrawing troops back to the mainland, five Royal Navy ships (including a nuclear submarine) were already heading towards the Malvinas; and on 5 April the attack began when the Task Force sailed from Portsmouth. By 7 April, in the face of the UN’s absolute passivity (Argentina always sought to act lawfully and to negotiate—always!), and after the TIAR—which in theory should have led all of the Americas, including the United States, to mobilise to defend Argentina—the UN never even acknowledged it; and the TIAR (Inter-American Treaty of Reciprocal Assistance), by wrongly considering Argentina the aggressor—impossible, since British aggression dates from 2 January 1833 when it occupied the islands and expelled the Argentine authorities—did not respond. Argentina thus began mobilisation to defend the Malvinas Islands and South Georgia (the first reinforcement troops began arriving in the Malvinas on 11 April, and in South Georgia on 25 April), finally violating Resolution 502—after the British had done so two days earlier. It is obvious there was enough time to reconsider the A-4Q camouflage scheme, yet on 1 May they entered action with an unsuitable scheme, and incredibly on 21 May they still retained it; and worse still, it was expected that by the end of June Great Britain would have to surrender or withdraw from operations because its endurance would run out. At that point Argentina’s Sea Fleet would begin the counterattack to harass them, including the Argentine aircraft carrier with its Skyhawks, of which only 5 or 6 units were then available (with one recovered from Espora), and more incredibly still, they still retained the suicidal US Navy scheme.

P.S.: The scale model was made some years ago by the author of this text. It is actually a 1/72 Douglas A-4A Skyhawk that I had to modify into an A-4B (Q) with putty and parts from a blister-pack of spares to make the in-flight refuelling probe, the VHF aerial and the dorsal Doppler fairing, as well as the arrestor hook, since the kit I bought lacked them. The serial number and insignia are purely hand-painted (using the tip of a wooden toothpick as a “pen”). The Snakeye bombs—like those used by Philippi’s 1st Section in the HMS “Ardent” attack mentioned above, carrying four 227 kg Mk-82s per aircraft—and their bomb rack were leftovers from an F-117 or an A-10 kit, I cannot remember which now, and I added them to complete the model. The aircraft stand with the national colours was actually from a 1/72 Grumman F-4F Wildcat kit, which I had not used because when I built it (in a US Navy 1943 North Atlantic scheme, when the F-6F Hellcat was already taking its place) I built it with the landing gear down; so I later reused it—this time—to display this A-4A configured as an A-4Q (B) of the CANA (later COAN) of the Argentine Navy in an in-flight attack configuration.



Wednesday, March 4, 2026

Can Argentina Become a Gas & Petroleum Power?



Can Argentina Become a Petroleum Power?


President Javier Milei’s reforms aim to reverse Argentina’s long economic decline through fiscal discipline and shrinking the state. A key advantage is the rapid development of Vaca Muerta, a vast shale formation in Neuquén Province (roughly Belgium-sized) holding massive tight oil and gas reserves extractable via fracking.Vaca Muerta has drawn major international and local companies like Chevron, Shell, YPF, Vista Energy, and Pan American Energy, despite historical investment risks in Argentina. Production has surged: Argentine crude output rose from 479,000 barrels per day (bpd) in 2017 to around 757,000 bpd in 2024, with recent data showing records like 861,000 bpd in late 2025, driven largely by Vaca Muerta shale (often 65-70% of total). Projections suggest it could reach 1 million bpd by 2030.Milei has accelerated progress with the RIGI incentive regime, offering tax breaks, forex access, and 30-year guarantees for large investments—especially attractive for hydrocarbons. Infrastructure is expanding, including new pipelines to the Atlantic (set to handle up to 700,000 bpd eventually) and reactivated routes to Chile, plus gas lines to reduce imports and enable exports.This boom reshapes Latin American energy dynamics. Argentina has overtaken Colombia and could challenge traditional leaders. Venezuela’s output has collapsed under mismanagement and sanctions; Mexico’s has declined due to nationalist policies and Pemex issues; Brazil leads via offshore fields, while Guyana rises fast. Argentina’s growth, plus potential in other shale areas and offshore, positions it as an emerging regional heavyweight.Oil revenues provide a crucial cushion for Milei’s plans, contributing to a $5.67 billion energy trade surplus in 2024 (likely higher now) and supporting IMF loans and exchange control reforms. The sector now makes up about 3.4% of GDP and is growing.Risks remain: global hydrocarbon demand may wane due to climate concerns (which Milei dismisses), while Argentina’s history of resource nationalism, populist spending, and nationalizations looms. Shale wells deplete quickly, requiring ongoing investment that depends on sustained favorable policies beyond Milei’s term (ending 2027).

The rise of Vaca Muerta as an oil province—coming on top of the increased production from Brazil and Guyana—means that Latin America will continue to be an important contributor to global energy needs. This is taking place even though Venezuela (which has the world’s largest proven oil reserves) remains trapped by its disastrous governance and the resulting sanctions, while any reform of Mexico’s oil regime is incipient at best. From the US’s perspective, the presence of a friendly government in Argentina, and of an important American company, Chevron, in a leading role, bodes well for future relations, if this welcoming environment can be sustained.

For now, strong international interest signals confidence. If managed wisely, Vaca Muerta’s revenues could give Argentina the breathing room needed for lasting economic recovery and stability—potentially transforming it into a significant petroleum power.

Sunday, March 1, 2026

BIM 5: The War of Second Corporal Agüero (1/2)

The Fight of Second Corporal Agüero – Part 1

Account taken from Revista Desembarco





Second Corporal Juan Carlos Agüero took part in the Malvinas War as a member of OBRA Company of the 5th Marine Infantry Battalion (BIM 5).

Second Corporal Agüero says: in 1982 I was posted to the 5th Marine Infantry Battalion. I was the leader of the 3rd Riflemen Group of OBRA Company. Our commander was Commander Carlos Robacio.

OBRA Company was, in reality, a reinforced rifle section: we were about 88 men—small for a company and large for a section. Our Company Commander was Sub-Lieutenant Ricardo Luis Quiroga, and the company senior NCO was Second Petty Officer Roberto Tejerina. The company’s organisation was three rifle groups, a 60 mm mortar and machine-gun group (two guns), a rocket-launcher detachment, the PELCA (command platoon formed by the commander and some 3 or 4 conscripts) and, when we arrived in the Malvinas, Second Corporal (medic) Angelossi joined us.

Once we arrived in the Malvinas and positions were assigned to BIM 5, we occupied a position between Mount Longdon and Wireless Ridge. Because of its size, our company had always been used in training as a reserve unit or as a forward observation unit, and in the Malvinas that was our mission: we were the battalion reserve. But with the arrival of Army regiments, we were ordered to move to another sector, near the positions of a company from RI-3. At that time we were still the reserve of BIM 5, but on 5 June, after repeatedly asking higher command to protect the avenue of approach—the only road linking Fitz Roy with the settlement—Captain Robacio decided to move his OBRA Company to Pony Pass, a forward sector. There the company would establish a blocking position.

Second Corporal Agüero recalls:

“My rifle group’s position was laid out on ground sloping down from W to E, but cut by a dried-up pond and a small natural rocky embankment, which allowed us to conceal ourselves if we had to fall back to the East. The northern end was marked by a distinctive rock beside the road leading to Fitz Roy. We had a frontage of 70 metres and were 150 m from the Company Command Post. The positions were about 150–200 m from a livestock fence and the anti-personnel minefield. That distance was chosen to achieve the effectiveness of our own fires on the interdiction line.

About 50 m to the rear and in the centre of the Group there was a rest and storage area (rations, sleeping bags, etc.) called the ‘Bunker’. This place did not protect against fire—only shelter for resting under cover. The terrain offered fields of fire and observation sectors for all weapons, being more open and flatter towards the Group’s left flank. The Group was reinforced, almost at the end, with a machine gun and a 3.5-inch rocket-launcher detachment.

At night the positions were manned two men at a time, and the rocket-launcher detachment was tasked to cover a post beside the road. All positions were double and had roofs made of corrugated sheet, timber, or tarpaulins with stops. They protected us from wind and rain; protection against fire was limited.

The road to Fitz Roy forked about 2,000 m to our front; we could clearly observe the branch that ran along the slope of Mount Harriet, while the other was partly masked by the undulations of the ground.

We had a light intensifier for the FM, and a Litton helmet-mounted night sight with the MAG. Only I had PAF and PD EF grenades. Each soldier carried 7.62 mm ammunition according to the weapon he carried:

FAL: 500 rounds; FAP: 1,000 rounds; MAG: 4 to 6 boxes plus a reserve of 2,000 rounds; 3.5-inch rocket-launcher.

‘C’ rations for about three days, plus supplementary mess improvements.

During the period up to 11 June the Company received sporadic naval gunfire, without causing casualties or affecting us. It was evident that this fire was not directed at the position; it was attributed to dispersion or the ships’ corrections. Harrier aircraft also flew over the area on photographic or strike missions, though the latter were always carried out against the Main Battle Area.

During the night of 11 June and the early hours of 12 June we saw the fighting for Mount Harriet, but there was little we could do. The British were more than 2,000 m from us; only a fraction that attempted an attack from the mountain’s rear came within our range, at a distance of about 800 to 1,000 m. From my position, using the night sight, we could see them clearly; some wore fluorescent markings on the back of their helmets. As they climbed, we fired at them from behind with the machine gun brought by Master Corporal Álvarez, together with conscripts Rava and Patrone. At that range our fire was not very effective; we fired one belt and suddenly began receiving fire from 6 or 7 machine guns, so we had to take cover. The master corporal received the order to return, but the machine gun remained with us on the front line.

Sub-Lieutenant Quiroga ordered the 60 mm mortars forward to hit the British; the mortar rounds fell on the enemy, but we had no way of verifying their effectiveness. At the same time, Sub-Lieutenant Quiroga adjusted the field artillery fire onto Harriet.

Apparently, by around 00:00 the enemy controlled part of the mountain, but RI-4 was still fighting; we could see and hear the explosions. Around 01:30 the British pushed upwards again. While this was happening, the company commander, Sub-Lieutenant Quiroga, reported to the BIM 5 command post. Captain Robacio informed the sub-lieutenant—and the sub-lieutenant informed us—that we were to prepare, because we might be used in a counter-attack if higher command authorised it; the authorisation never came.

At about 03:00 we managed to recover two conscripts from RI-4’s service section (soldiers Ibañes and Vallejos). They were given dry clothing, combat rations and ammunition and were incorporated into the company. They remained with us until the end of the fighting. At dawn on 12 June, Mount Harriet was in British hands.”

Repulse of the Enemy — 13 June

During the night of 12/13 June the enemy continued moving troops and helicopters in the Mount Harriet area, but our company had no significant developments. Twilight began at 08:16. At 22:34 the moon rose, on its first day of the last quarter. Artillery fire intensified over Tumbledown–William, Sapper Hill… Morning broke, and 13 June passed without major developments. At 15:30, at about 900 m, we saw elements advancing in an extended line abreast in front of the Company, with an estimated strength of 2 or 3 sections, wearing black berets (Welsh). The company’s support weapons were in a position to open fire, but the Company Commander ordered us not to, in order not to give away the position. He decided to engage them with our own artillery and made the corresponding requests. He reported to the BIM 5 command, which in turn reported to the Army grouping command (AGRUP. EA), which ordered the area to be shelled with all available artillery (B/BIAC taking part, Battery B of the Marine Infantry field artillery battalion). The fire was highly effective and the enemy withdrew in disorder; bodies could be seen being blown into the air. They then pulled back westwards towards helicopters that were waiting for them. Once the mission by our artillery ended, two enemy helicopters collected the wounded, observed from “OBRA” and from the BIM 5 observation post at Tumbledown; we allowed this medical evacuation to be completed without fire. In Sub-Lieutenant Quiroga’s words: “Not the wounded.” These actions were seen by the entire Company.

On this, Second Corporal Agüero, leader of the 3rd Group, says:

“On 13 June, at about 12:00, we saw enemy troops moving on foot over Mount Harriet, coming from the north-west. We judged them to be about the size of a company. They emplaced 81 mm mortars on the mountain; their hand-carriage could be made out, and we observed about four weapons. Then some of the personnel came down from the mountain towards the crossroads. They set up about five 7.62 mm machine guns on the road fork (prominent rocks in the terrain). Enemy helicopters unloaded crates—probably ammunition. Later, between Mount Harriet and the crossroads, a helicopter lift of personnel began, with an estimated strength of less than a company. The helicopters were Sea King and Wasp types, all dark-coloured. The movement lasted about an hour. I discussed these events with the group and we prepared for combat. There was noticeable nervousness and tension among the men. We had it in our heads that we had come for something—and that something was going to happen.

At about 15:00 the enemy advanced in an extended line; our artillery fired, but the first rounds fell long, on the far side of Harriet, and we could not see the subsequent impacts—only the smoke rising into the sky. Then I saw clearly, halfway up the visible face of Harriet, an artillery impact. They were falling in the enemy’s general area, but far from him. Three more impacts were corrected and only then did we get onto the target. Then effective fire was delivered: I saw an explosion that threw three or four bodies into the air. Wounded could be seen; they scattered seeking cover, shouting, and we could hear them clearly. There were more explosions and more wounded; bodies flew and were scattered. After about 15 or 20 minutes, Sea King-type helicopters were seen evacuating the wounded; their number could not be determined because the aircraft were positioned facing our lines and masked them.

After that nothing else happened until, before dark, I observed along the road from the West a force of English troops in tight column, assessed as a company. Before reaching the crossroads they deployed into an extended line to the south of the road and halted in the ground they had reached. The English marched calmly, apparently because our positions were well camouflaged and they did not know we were there. I reported the situation by radio to Sub-Lieutenant Quiroga, left my position and checked the Group’s readiness for combat, reiterating that we would be attacked that night.

At that time Sub-Lieutenant Quiroga had a fractured ankle, the result of some artillery rounds falling short and, while running to cover to make the correction, he broke his ankle. He was later evacuated and replaced by Lieutenant Commander Carlos Alberto Calmels, who had been our Company Commander the previous year. Lieutenant Commander Calmels arrived about 20 minutes before the attack on our positions began.”