Malvinas: My Experience in the 12th IR

 

My Experience in the 12th Infantry Regiment (Final Part)

VGM Soldier JUAN ALBERTO VACA

On 21 May, the British landing at San Carlos took place, coming up against the Argentine troops who were deployed forward. We were several kilometres from that area. The English pirate had set foot on our islands, and we knew that before long rifle fighting on our own ground was imminent; “at last I’ll be able to face them and see the British in the flesh,” I thought to myself. From that moment on, the attacks by ships and aircraft against our positions intensified. I remember that in one of those attacks a large number of bombs fell on us, destroying the troops’ hut area and all of the officers’ tents. By a miracle, and thanks to God’s help, we did not have any fatalities to mourn—only a few wounded with minor injuries.

On 27 May, we entered into direct combat with the enemy. We fought for two days without stopping, resting sporadically for a few hours or minutes whenever we could. The troops who were deployed forward absorbed the first attack, but because of the enemy’s superiority they began to fall back, leaving us on the front line of defence. The assault on our positions was ferocious: we were harassed by enemy riflemen, while at the same time we endured bombardment from frigates and from the air. I recall that before attacking us they lit up the sky with flares—but only over the sector where we were—so that they could see us, while we could not see them. That night we fought for several hours, until the order came to withdraw towards Goose Green, where the Regiment’s other companies were located.



The following day we reorganised and prepared to face another onslaught. The Air Force personnel were with us as well, having also withdrawn. Goose Green is a small settlement near the sea, surrounded by low hills. There, more than a thousand of us were packed together. The enemy, taking advantage of the ships’ attacks that were giving us a hard time that day, encircled us and took the high ground. On the night of the 28th we learned that the British had demanded our surrender, and our commander replied in the negative, as we believed they would not open fire because they might cause casualties among the islanders. But after a further attack by enemy artillery, Lieutenant Colonel Piaggi, together with the commander of the Air Force personnel, decided to surrender in order to avoid an unnecessary massacre.

We had to hand over our weapons; we had resisted as much as we could. I remember our wounded being taken to a hospital ship, where they were operated on, while those with light injuries were treated in the shed where we were being held. In San Carlos, I continued working at my trade as a cook, always under guard by the Gurkhas, who were recognisable—besides their Asian features—by their short stature and by carrying a large, curved knife. They directed everything with gestures, but they treated us well.

When the war ended they took us to Uruguay, and from there to Buenos Aires by ship. As soon as we arrived, we were transferred to the Campo de Mayo barracks, where we were warmly received: we were given plentiful food, soft drinks, issued with new clothing, and we were able to bathe. Unfortunately, I was kept in hospital for two weeks because of a condition caused by the blast wave from a bomb that fell near me during the battle. The explosion threw me into the air and, as I came down, I struck my head on a stone. In that bombardment, two sergeants, a corporal and two soldiers were wounded. Thank God I recovered just in time to return with the rest of the soldiers to Mercedes, where, after completing the usual formalities, we were discharged and I was able to return to my beloved Santiago.



“Lastly, I want to say that I feel proud to have taken part in that great deed for our country. Sadly we could not overcome the military superiority of a powerful nation, but I am convinced that we did what we could and gave the best of ourselves. The images of the war—the cold, the anxiety, the fear, the sound of bombs falling close by, the aircraft and helicopters harassing our positions, the shouting, comrades dead and wounded—will never be erased from my memory, and form a body of recollections that will remain with me until the end of my days. But we were not ‘boys’, as some would have people believe: we were soldiers.”

Darwin-Goose Green: The Corporal Ramírez (12 IR) Experience

Account of Corporal "EC" Ramírez, RI-12

Malvinas 1982


 

Warrant Officer Ramírez was born in the city of Río Cuarto, Córdoba Province. His decision to enter the "General Lemos" School was made from an early age. "I joined the Army out of vocation. In primary school, I already had admiration for the military, the soldier, and national holidays. As I grew up, I got closer to the Army because I had a distant uncle who was a non-commissioned officer. We would sometimes visit him in Córdoba, and I’d see the soldiers and their uniforms. From the age of 8 or 9, I wanted to be a soldier. After finishing my fourth year of secondary school, I joined the Lemos School."

Ramírez described the life of a cadet as a tough stage: "As a cadet, it was a difficult period because I went from the comfort of home to the harsh discipline of the school – it was a big change. Still, I had strong family support. It was hard at first, but I never doubted my decision; I knew exactly what I wanted. I felt proud to belong to the Force and I truly enjoyed it." In early 1982, the second year of his training was going normally, and that week was meant to be leave for Easter to spend time with family. That changed abruptly when they learned they would be promoted to NCOs – corporals of the Argentine Army. 



Warrant Officer Ramírez continued: “I was fortunate to be assigned to Infantry Regiment 12, which was then based in Mercedes, Corrientes, under the III Infantry Brigade. We were assigned to the Command and Services Company. At first, we were packing combat rations, but soon the whole brigade was mobilised south, leaving only a detachment behind. We were among the first to arrive in the islands, along with the medical section. That was a proud moment for me as an Argentine soldier. Once everyone arrived, the regiment began to be airlifted to Darwin. By 25 May, we could no longer be transported due to the presence of British commandos. That day we celebrated the national holiday by marching from our position in Challenger to Puerto Argentino – a 20 km walk. We were preparing to move to Darwin when soldiers from our regiment who had already seen combat in San Carlos arrived after retreating. We all boarded an Air Force helicopter, standing, in tense silence. The door gunner was alert, as British aircraft were nearby, and the pilot flew low, hugging the terrain to avoid detection. We landed in Darwin and Goose Green – the helicopter touched down in the village to avoid being spotted. As we disembarked, the siren sounded – red alert – and we scrambled to find defensive positions.

That night, combat began with British field artillery and naval fire, as we were in the Darwin isthmus, the land bridge connecting the north and south of East Falkland. The enemy advanced from the north, and we could see the artillery flashes and combat. The most striking moment was the final enemy assault – watching tracer rounds approaching until they reached our position. We fought until past noon the next day. Second Lieutenant Peluffo took command of our sector. We had no communication or chance to retreat. Our section surrendered, and the fighting stopped. There was a terrible, indescribable silence. When things calmed down, I left my position and saw the whole scene – smoke, and British troops already present. I approached them, saw the surrender flag, returned, and left my rifle, which was already out of ammunition. The British weren’t hostile. I asked them to assist a wounded soldier beside me. We were taken to another part of the island as prisoners – those uninjured stayed two or three days, while the wounded were flown out. We were later moved to San Carlos, where the rest of the regiment was held. We were captured on 28 May. 29 May was Army Day. A few days later, the ship moved, and we realised we were headed somewhere else.

On 13 June, we were dropped off in Montevideo. We were among the first to be captured and ended up in a neutral country. After disembarking, we passed through Red Cross tents for registration and boarded Argentine ships to return to the mainland. The next day, Puerto Argentino surrendered. That return was painful. I felt I hadn’t given everything – because I was still whole, uninjured. To me, giving everything meant dying or being unable to continue fighting. Afterwards, there was much uncertainty. We were taken by bus to ESPAC. We all returned to the same unit. I remained four more years at Infantry Regiment 12 – the most cherished posting of my career. I retired in Campo de Mayo, at the Army Aviation Directorate.