1955 Revolution: Aftermath

The people of Bahía Blanca take to the streets to celebrate the triumph of the Revolution.

Aftermath



Joy and happiness in the crowd after Perón resignation

Thus concluded the first Argentine armed conflict of the 20th century, which, in just seven days of fighting, claimed the lives of nearly a thousand people. The casualties included civilians and soldiers—men, women, children, and the elderly. The majority of the deaths occurred on June 16 during the bombing of Buenos Aires, when 229 victims were identified in hospitals, clinics, and public aid facilities. However, the true death toll was far higher, as Dr. Francisco Barbagallo notes in Daniel Cichero's Bombs Over Buenos Aires. The chaos was so overwhelming that tracking the countless bodies transported by ambulances and trucks became impossible.

To grasp the scale of the attack, it is worth noting that 14,000 kilograms (14 tons) of explosives were dropped that day—half the amount used in the bombing of Guernica—yet the death toll was nearly equivalent to that of the Spanish city.

On that day, 43 rebel aircraft carried out the assault: twenty North American AT-6s, five Beechcraft AT-11s, three Catalinas, one Fiat G-55A Centauro reconnaissance aircraft dispatched to Rosario to contact General Bengoa, and ten rebel Gloster Meteors. Additionally, four aircraft initially refused to counter the attack but later joined the rebellion. Including loyalist aircraft, the total number of planes involved exceeded fifty.


Celebrations in Bahía Blanca

On June 16, 1955, the Air Force and Naval Aviation took their first baptisms of fire; the first two shoot-downs in the national aeronautical history occurred when the AT-6s of midshipmen Arnaldo Román and Eduardo Bisso were hit by the enemy, the first by shrapnel from the Gloster Meteor of Lieutenant Ernesto Adradas over the Río de la Plata and the second by anti-aircraft guns from the 3rd Regiment of La Tablada in the town of Tristán Suárez, Buenos Aires, not counting the Gloster that, due to lack of fuel, crashed into the waters of the Plata, between Carmelo and Colonia. That day also saw the first shoot-down carried out by a jet on the American continent (that of midshipman Romás by Lieutenant Adradas) and the entry into action of the tanks when a Sherman of the Motorized Regiment “Buenos Aires” fired on the Ministry of the Navy.


Victorious leaders. From left to right: CN Arturo Rial, Dr. Clemente Villada Achaval, General Julio A. Lagos, General Eduardo Lonardi, General Dalmiro Videla Balaguer and Commodore Julio César Krausse

Buenos Aires became the first (and so far, only) capital in South America to endure a large-scale aerial bombardment, joining the ranks of only a few cities worldwide to have suffered such an attack. It shares this tragic distinction with Gibara in Cuba, bombed by President Machado's air force in 1931, and Puerto Casado in Paraguay, targeted by the Bolivian Air Force in 1933. However, both of these events pale in comparison to the scale of the bombardment in Buenos Aires.

During the attacks, numerous locations in the city were hit, with the main targets including the Government House, Plaza de Mayo, the National Mortgage Bank, the Ministry of Finance, the Army Ministry (Libertador Building), Hotel Mayo, the Central Police Department, the CGT headquarters, the Ministry of Public Works, the Patagonia Import and Export Company, various buildings along Av. Paseo Colón, the service station of the Argentine Automobile Club, and the presidential residence at Unzué Palace.

Additionally, La Tablada suffered heavy damage as the 3rd Infantry Regiment was strafed and bombed on Av. Crovara and Av. San Martín while marching toward the city center. The Ministry of the Navy was also struck during an attack by Army units, and the Banco Nación was hit as revolutionary civilian commandos took refuge on its rooftop.

On September 16, Argentina witnessed its first air-naval battle when the Peronist Air Force engaged the Ríos Squadron. Mar del Plata was also bombed, initially by a lone naval aircraft and later by Navy ships targeting large coastal oil deposits, the Submarine Base, Army positions on a nearby golf course, and the Camet Anti-Aircraft Artillery Regiment.

Three days later, the submarine Santiago del Estero entered combat for the first time, using its 40 mm Bofors cannon to fire on unidentified aircraft near Montevideo. The towns of Saavedra and Río Colorado also fell victim to aerial bombardments during this period.


The Plaza de Mayo is packed, cheering on the Revolution that overthrew the tyrannical president

In that revolution, the greatness and miseries of war were fully exposed: acts of heroism and resolve, reckless actions, brutal deeds, weaknesses, and betrayals.

On June 16, it became evident that a significant portion of the population was willing to fight for Perón to the death. That day, thousands of workers took to the streets to arm themselves and fight for their leader. Dozens died in combat, most during the attack on the Ministry of the Navy. Similarly, on September 21, an unidentified number of fervent members of the Alianza Libertadora Nacionalista perished during revolutionary troops' assault on their headquarters.

There were soldiers who fulfilled their mission according to the training they had received, such as the much-criticized Lieutenant Adradas, who simply did his duty, or Vice-Commodore Síster, steadfast in his determination to defend the Peronist regime. Others failed to rise to the occasion. Some military figures upheld their honor, like Admiral Benjamín Gargiulo, who, like ancient Roman generals, chose to take his own life rather than face disgrace. There were officers willing to die rather than surrender, including General Lonardi, Colonel Arturo Ossorio Arana, Captains Perren and Rial, Commodore Krausse, Majors Montiel Forzano and Juan Francisco Guevara, Colonel Arias Duval, Captain Ramón Eduardo Molina, and the somewhat reckless Dalmiro Videla Balaguer, all on the rebel side. Others fell in combat, such as Brigadier General Tomás Vergara Ruzo and numerous aviators, soldiers, and sailors who fought valiantly on both sides.

On the loyalist side, the resolve and professionalism of generals like Franklin Lucero, Miguel Ángel Iñíguez, and José María Sosa Molina, Lieutenant Colonel César Camilo Arrechea, Captain Hugo Crexell, and many others stood out, honoring their respective branches of service. The Argentine honor also shone aboard the destroyers La Rioja and Cervantes, and in the steadfastness of the personnel in Bahía Blanca and Punta Alta, who held firm in their posts against powerful advancing forces.

However, there were also ambiguous and wavering actions, such as those of Admiral Olivieri, Generals Bengoa, Lagos, and even Aramburu. Lieutenant Colonel Barto displayed indecision and despair during the regiments’ advance toward southern Buenos Aires. Similarly, First Lieutenant Rogelio Balado, one of the regime’s iconic pilots, switched sides and, during combat, refused to fire on an enemy Avro Lincoln that had just strafed loyalist positions at the Pajas Blancas airfield. Captain Bernardo Benesch did the same when ordered to attack targets in Mar del Plata on June 19. (Before setting sail, he had offered dissenting officers and sailors the opportunity to leave the ship and return to shore, though he himself did not follow through.) Captain Edgardo Andrew also hesitated, asking Captain Rial to revoke the order to bomb the 5th Infantry Regiment in Bahía Blanca, which was refusing to surrender.

During the second phase of the revolution, over 70 combat and patrol sorties were conducted, and the main regiments and military units from Buenos Aires, Córdoba, Mendoza, San Luis, and Patagonia were mobilized.

Rear Admiral Toranzo Calderón upon arriving at the Municipality of Bahia Blanca

On September 21, 1955, as the final acts of the conflict concluded, an atmosphere of anticipation lingered across the country. While government emissaries and representatives of the rebel forces engaged in negotiations, combat units in Córdoba began their gradual return to base.

That same day, news of the revolutionary forces’ victory spread, prompting the people of Córdoba to flood the streets in celebration of the regime’s fall. Crowds gathered at Plaza San Martín, in front of the ruined Cabildo building, adorned with three Argentine flags, cheering for the leading figures of the rebellion. Thousands of men and women entered the adjacent Cathedral to give thanks to the Lord and the Holy Mother for the end of the conflict. Meanwhile, a jubilant procession of cars, motorcycles, trucks, buses, and pedestrians filled the streets, chanting in support of the revolution, its leaders, and the nation’s heroes.

Two days earlier, Bahía Blanca had erupted in similar enthusiasm. Residents filled the streets, cheering, singing, and waving flags while wearing sky-blue and white ribbons and rosettes. Portraits of San Martín, Belgrano, and Our Lord Jesus Christ were prominently displayed. Outside the CGT building, crowds sang the National Anthem, symbolizing the defiance of the fallen regime, and applauded Admirals Toranzo Calderón and Olivieri as they arrived at Bahía Blanca’s municipal headquarters after their release from detention in La Pampa. In front of the burned-out offices of the Democracia newspaper and the Bernardino Rivadavia Public Library, the crowd shouted, “Death to Perón!” and “Long live the Fatherland and Liberty!”

Toranzo Calderon in the Municipality of Bahia Blanca

On September 21, back in their respective units and after a refreshing hot bath, cadets and conscripts from the Military Aviation and Airborne Troops schools in Córdoba were informed that the next day they were going to participate in the parades that had been held to commemorate the victory.
On the 22nd, very early in the morning, the soldiers formed up in the courtyards of both schools to head into the city to parade with the Army troops and civilian commandos who had taken part in the battle. The Cadet's Diary is graphic in recounting the events.

"The unit remains in the same condition as always... All the officers gathered with General Lonardi at the Cadet Casino, which is why we couldn’t contact F... to request a replacement. When we finally managed to, he told us there was only one tent left with a cadet and 16 soldiers. We worked like mad to take down the tents and move them to the Squadron. Once we finished everything, we went to the unit, and there, among the three group leaders, the 'exciting' draw took place to decide who would stay... If it had been me, I would have had to muster a great deal of willpower to remain, but luck was on my side; of course, it fell to the 'Turk.' Poor guy, he won’t be any better off than I am."

Rear Admiral Samuel Toranzo Calderon arrives in Bahia Blanca

Thus, the troops boarded military trucks and buses and headed toward the provincial capital where, upon reaching Av. Vélez Sarsfield, they dismounted to begin the parade. They did so after a long wait, in front of the population who cheered them and threw flowers at them while a shower of papers fell from nearby buildings to the cry of “Freedom! Freedom!” which could be heard everywhere.
After the parade, the troops returned to the barracks to continue their activities during peacetime, unaware that the following day would claim the life of another comrade.
During a patrol and observation flight, the Calquin I.Ae-24 of the 2nd Attack Group, piloted by Second Lieutenant Edgardo Tercillo Panizza, crashed on the outskirts of the city due to mechanical problems.


Officers welcome their boss after his release

Once they had heard of this, cadets and officers headed towards the site, first crossing the Aeronautical District, with the intention of seeing the remains of the aircraft that was still smoking on the field. Once there, they came across the remains, observing them in silence while meditating on the events that had taken place in the previous days and the course that history would take from that moment on.
Mar del Plata also joined in the celebrations with long human columns parading through its streets to the City Hall, to sing the National Anthem and wave flags.
On September 23, the fronts of the city woke up decorated with the colors blue and white; around 10:00 there was a new march to the government palace where rosettes, ribbons and flowers were distributed as in the days of May and the celebrations continued in different places until late at night.
Argentina was beginning a new path; An era had ended and another had begun, but the disagreement between brothers was not going to end there. The country would never find its way again and society would continue to crumble to unsuspected limits.

Notes

[1] Gargiulo was the creator of IMARA (Argentine Marines), infusing the spirit of the US Marines into their training and enlistment..

Photos: Miguel Ángel Cavallo, Puerto Belgrano. Hora Cero. la Marina se subleva

1955 Guerra Civil. La Revolucion Libertadora y la caída de Perón

Argentina: On How the 1955 Revolution Shaped Military Thought

Under the Aegis of Aries

By Esteban McLaren

During World War II, as in World War I, Argentina maintained an official stance of neutrality for much of the conflict. However, within the armed forces—particularly in the Army—tensions emerged among factions debating what the country’s true position should be. One such faction, aligned with the Grupo de Oficiales Unidos (United Officers Group - GOU), sympathized with the Nazi regime and, until 1943, advocated for Argentina to join the war on the side of the Axis powers. Following their successful coup d'état that same year, this faction seized control of the government, laying the groundwork for their preferred candidate, Juan Domingo Perón, to ascend to the presidency in the 1946 elections.

Perón, the son of Italian immigrants, initially assumed office as a constitutional president. However, he soon implemented a series of reforms aimed at suppressing opposition and consolidating his grip on power. Leveraging the surplus funds accumulated during Argentina’s wartime trade boom, he garnered support through bribes, subsidies, and other corrupt practices that allowed him to manipulate institutions to his advantage. Mismanagement of public resources became rampant: individuals with no prior wealth amassed fortunes, opposition media outlets were shut down or co-opted, and dissenting voices were systematically silenced—some through torture.

Amid this climate, a marginalized faction of the armed forces, sympathetic to the Allies and sidelined since the 1943 coup, began to regroup. This paper seeks to examine the recurring patterns within the anti-Peronist, or constitutionalist, forces that influenced Argentina's internal political-military dynamics, particularly during the period from 1955 to 1988, when these factions played a pivotal role in shaping the nation’s political landscape.

The Pro-Allied Faction

The earliest manifestations of this faction within the Argentine Army likely became evident during the failed coup attempt of 1951. What defined this group was their unwavering focus on action. These were military professionals trained to view challenges through the lens of the friend-enemy dichotomy. Their approach to any threat was inherently military: once the threat was identified, the enemy was delineated, and operations were executed to attack, pursue, and, if possible, annihilate it.

A prominent example of this ethos is Admiral Benjamín Gargiulo, the founder of the Argentine Navy's Marine Infantry Corps (IMARA). Inspired by the U.S. Marine Corps, Gargiulo instilled a spirit of rigorous preparation and combat readiness in his troops. During the failed coup of June 16, 1955, when his efforts were thwarted, Gargiulo chose to commit suicide—an act that shocked many but epitomized his sense of military honor and courage. This same valor would be echoed 27 years later at the Battle of Mount Tumbledown, where the Marine Infantry displayed exceptional bravery in the defense of Puerto Argentino during the Malvinas War.

This decisive and action-oriented approach stood in stark contrast to the hesitation shown by Juan Domingo Perón during the Liberating Revolution of 1955 (or 1955 Revolution). Faced with a rebellion in which only 18% of the troops turned against him, Perón faltered. The insurgents, led by General Eduardo Lonardi, stood firm, refusing to negotiate or compromise. Perón, accustomed to the political arena where deals and compromises were standard, seemingly misjudged the rebels’ intentions. Believing they sought a power-sharing agreement, he hesitated to order a decisive assault against their encircled forces. This hesitation allowed the insurgents to regroup and resume their offensive.

Once Lonardi's forces had reorganized, his first act was to order Perón’s arrest. This move, naturally, opened the door to his trial and potentially his execution—bringing Perón’s government to an abrupt end. Only then did Perón fully realize he was facing seasoned military professionals, not the political opportunists he was accustomed to outmaneuvering. His miscalculation sealed his fate, underscoring the stark difference between a military trained for decisive action and a politician unprepared for the harsh realities of armed rebellion.

The Liberating Revolution and the Formation of Army Officers

The Liberating Revolution, which overthrew the government of Juan Domingo Perón in 1955, had a profound impact on the composition and professional trajectory of officers within the Argentine Army. This process began with mass purges of officers deemed loyal to Peronism and the reinstatement of those aligned with anti-Peronist forces. Spearheaded by the Revolución Libertadora between 1955 and 1956, these changes disrupted the Army’s hierarchy, significantly altering its command structure and deeply affecting the careers of numerous officers (Mazzei, 2013).

The purge of Peronist officers resulted in the forced retirement of approximately 500 officers, many of whom were from the 60th to 74th graduating classes of the Military Academy. This affected officers from various branches, including infantry (53%), cavalry, and artillery. The vacancies left by their removal were often filled by less updated or less capable officers, which weakened the Army’s upper ranks.

Simultaneously, the Liberating Revolution reinstated around 180 anti-Peronist officers who had previously been dismissed. Many of these individuals later ascended to high-ranking positions within the military hierarchy, with some achieving the rank of general. The restoration of these officers solidified the influence of a military faction closely aligned with anti-Peronist ideology, significantly shaping the institution's leadership and operational outlook for years to come.na visión conservadora y antiperonista, que jugaría un rol crucial en los años venideros.

The "Blues" and the Consolidation of Military Power

Following the coup, the faction known as the "Blues" emerged as the dominant faction within the Army, consolidating its control throughout the 1960s and 1970s. This faction, under the leadership of figures such as Alejandro Lanusse and Alcides López Aufranc, imposed a militaristic and conservative vision that influenced both internal politics and Argentina's participation in territorial conflicts and the anti-subversive war. This faction managed to stay in power through a network of internal loyalties and through control of promotions and retirements within the military institution.

The Ideological and Operational Legacy

The impact of the Revolución Libertadora was not limited to a reconfiguration of the military hierarchy, but established a doctrine that would influence key events in Argentine history, such as the anti-subversive struggle and the conflict in the Malvinas Islands in 1982. The work underlines how this militaristic ideology promoted violent intervention in both internal and external conflicts, in defence of "national sovereignty" and the stability of internal order.

The changes in the composition and profile of Army officers during the Liberating Revolution significantly influenced military decisions in the following decades, particularly in how the Army approached counterinsurgency operations and territorial conflicts. The training and consolidation of these cadres during and after the Liberating Revolution instilled a distinctly aggressive decision-making style, exemplified by the harsh measures employed during the military dictatorship’s counterinsurgency campaign. This period saw the implementation of violent repression strategies against any perceived threat to the established order.

Moreover, the establishment of a high command that favored the use of force and embraced a nationalist perspective played a critical role in decisions such as the escalation of tensions during the Beagle Channel conflict with Chile in the 1970s and the invasion of the Malvinas Islands in 1982. The dominant ideology among these military officers—shaped during the Revolución Libertadora (1955 Revolution) and solidified in the subsequent decades—portrayed the Army as the guardian of national sovereignty against external enemies and as the enforcer of internal order against perceived subversion.

Professional soldiers trained under this doctrine operated with a clear and uncompromising premise: all problems were to be resolved militarily. Ambiguity was not an option. They assessed situations, identified enemies, planned attacks, and executed operations decisively, relying on force or the threat of it. The first major adversary of this philosophy was its ideological nemesis: the dictator Juan Domingo Perón. Subsequently, internal power struggles between factions emerged, including the infamous Azules versus Colorados clashes, leading to decades of military uprisings and internal conflicts.

Magdalena's 8th Tank Cavalry Regiment M4 Sherman Firefly over the Punta Indio Naval Station tarmac in 1965.

Conflict resolution within this faction of the Argentine military was consistently taken to extremes. The failed coup of 1951, the bombing of Plaza de Mayo on June 16, 1955, the decisive coup of September 13, 1955, the executions at León Suárez, and the series of coups throughout the 1960s left no doubt about the faction's uncompromising approach. On April 3, 1965, the 8th Tank Cavalry Regiment from Magdalena brutally attacked the Punta Indio Naval Air Base after being bombarded with rockets and napalm by naval aircraft. This level of unrestrained aggression became the norm.

A mentality shaped by the spirit of blitzkrieg dominated operations during the counterinsurgency campaigns, the near-war territorial disputes with Chile in 1978, and the climactic recovery of the Malvinas Islands. Operations such as Soberanía and Tronador exemplified this mindset. These plans were masterpieces of military strategy, marked by creative approaches and the ability to anticipate Chilean responses several steps ahead. They encapsulated the lessons learned by the officer corps, meticulously applying the most advanced military doctrine of the era.

The reliance on military solutions did not end there. The Carapintada rebellions and the brutal retaking of the 3rd Mechanized Infantry Regiment at La Tablada marked the closing chapter of a generation of soldiers forged for war. Often unable to resolve matters through other means, they consistently chose the use of military force as their primary response.

The negative consequences of this approach were evident in the widespread social condemnation of the methods employed during the counterinsurgency campaigns. The defeat in the Falklands War delivered the final blow to this mindset, leaving not only a profound loss of life but also a deep scar on national pride.

From a more positive perspective, the Argentine military approached their profession with uncompromising consistency, making decisions rooted firmly in military doctrine. Despite errors, indecision, and the brutalities committed, their actions often adhered to rigorous operational planning. Notable examples of military precision included Operation Rosario, an amphibious assault brilliantly executed against an enemy garrison with the explicit objective of avoiding casualties. Additionally, Argentina became the first country to simultaneously dismantle two terrorist movements—one urban and one rural—through a decentralized and audacious operation involving all military and police units to neutralize insurgent hideouts.

However, this war was later scrutinized in Argentine civil courts through a judicial process marred by irregularities, including the retroactive application of laws and improper proceedings that remain controversial. One critical misstep in the military’s counterinsurgency method was the disposal of insurgents’ bodies instead of returning them to their families, a decision that continues to fuel contention.

A Reflection on Military Responses and Leadership Failures

Allow me a personal reflection. One expects a military response from the armed forces; otherwise, there is no reason to call on them. When the military is summoned to address a problem, it is understood that the issue will be resolved manu militari. This entails frontal assaults, flanking maneuvers, precision strikes, saturating defenses, and seeking the enemy's surrender. The generation of Aries, guided by the Roman god of war, responded as expected—sometimes with massive errors, but always consistent with how the nation had trained them.

I deeply detest, with significant conviction, when a military officer ventures into political analysis, planning, or implementation for a real-world problem. When a tactician delves into geopolitics instead of focusing on executing orders from their superiors, it reflects a clear lack of professionalism. Such failures have existed, continue to exist, and will likely persist. A case in point was the HMS Shackleton incident, when the British oceanographic vessel intruded into Argentine waters in a blatant affront to national sovereignty. Intercepted by the ARA Rosales, the naval command from Libertad headquarters issued a direct order: "Sink it!" However, the naval officer in charge chose instead to have a coffee—a gesture that not only dishonored his uniform but also assumed roles reserved for the General Staff.

In 1982, General Luciano Benjamín Menéndez, as Argentina's military governor in the Malvinas, was tasked with designing the defensive plan against a potential British re-invasion. His plan, however, was a static defensive setup devoid of imagination or strategy. It resembled something conceived by a Chilean general—lacking in creativity and more concerned with maintaining good relations with the kelpers (the British-settled population) than defending the territory. When the enemy landing at San Carlos was detected, Menéndez's response was painfully reactive, if it could even be called that.

From that moment, events spiraled downward. There were no ambushes planned, no maneuvers to regroup forces, and no flanking or encirclement strategies implemented. Menéndez left each position commander to act independently, offering no centralized coordination or leadership. What emerged was a general with little intellect and even less courage, paralyzed by mediocrity, passively awaiting the inevitable. He failed to optimize the resources at his disposal, whether abundant or scarce. Instead of leading, Menéndez surrendered to inertia, displaying a complete lack of strategic vision and leadership. This was the cost of nepotism—elevating an officer tied to families associated with the Revolución Libertadora and the counterinsurgency campaigns. Menéndez prioritized geopolitical relations with those who despised him rather than focusing on his troops and crafting the best possible military plan.

A Broader Legacy of Patriotism

Despite the tragic context of Latin America, this generation of Aries left behind a lesson in patriotism that transcends generations. The shameful examples of Cuba, Venezuela, and Nicaragua—where senior military officers, lacking ethics, morals, and discipline, handed their nations over to petty dictators—stand as cautionary tales of what Argentina could have become. Yet, in Argentina, a cadre of patriotic officers emerged. When a dictator like Perón sought to perpetuate his rule, it was the brave 18% of troops who rose in rebellion to depose him. This is not the cursed Caribbean; this is Argentina. And in Argentina, when the military acts with honor, it does not surrender its homeland to tyrants.

Lessons from the Liberating Revolution

The Liberating Revolution not only restructured the Argentine Army and the entire armed forces in terms of their composition, but it also laid the ideological and operational groundwork for the decisions that would shape the nation’s military history in the decades that followed. From this experience, both positive lessons and critical errors emerge. It is our generation’s duty to learn from both as we shape the doctrine that will restore us to the military power we were destined to be.

1955 Revolution: The Final Clashes

The Final Clashes
1955 Guerra Civil. La Revolucion Libertadora y la caída de Perón





Buenos Aires, early morning of September 21, 1955: Army tanks destroy the headquarters of the Nationalist Liberation Alliance

By the evening of September 20, 1955, it was evident that the Peronist regime was on the verge of collapse. However, concerns remained about potential retaliation, not so much from the Armed Forces but from loyalist unions and party militias. Anticipating such a response, the Ministry of the Navy was heavily fortified around 8:00 PM due to rumors of an imminent attack by Peronist militias. Rebel forces prepared for a potential evacuation via naval routes, deploying the Ushuaia transport, the Mandubí tug, and a towed infantry landing craft.

Rebel forces consolidated their positions, arming troops with light weapons, machine guns, and grenades to repel any attack. Troops took defensive positions near the Naval Workshop and the Hotel of Immigrants, awaiting orders to board, while maintaining a heightened state of alert.

Meanwhile, the Nationalist Liberation Alliance, a steadfast Peronist stronghold, was mobilizing for combat. Despite the political chaos, the Alliance, led by Guillermo Patricio Kelly, demonstrated unwavering loyalty. Their headquarters was converted into a makeshift fortress, with the ground floor serving as a field hospital and the upper floors used to destroy compromising documents. Kelly, having secured weapons directly from Perón’s aides, was resolute in fulfilling the battle cry: “La vida por Perón” (Life for Perón).

Rumors of unions distributing arms to workers prompted the Military Junta to summon union leader Hugo Di Pietro for clarification. Di Pietro denied the allegations and invited inspections to confirm the union’s neutrality. In response, the Junta issued appeals to union, party, and religious leaders to prevent violence and restore order.

Simultaneously, military leaders moved decisively. General Raúl Tassi took control of the Ministry of Communications, ensuring the resumption of national telecommunications and confiscating weapons allegedly intended for distribution among workers.

As the day ended, reports reached Tassi that the Nationalist Alliance had rejected ceasefire terms and was preparing for battle. General Audelino Bergallo, in command of Buenos Aires, issued an unambiguous order: “Destroy them with cannon fire!” Preparations began for a full assault on the Alliance’s headquarters.

A military detachment, led by Captain Guillermo Genta and Cadet Heriberto Justo Auel, equipped a truck with machine guns and advanced towards the Alliance’s stronghold. Amid torrential rain and deserted streets, they arrived at the location, supported by tanks poised to fire. Meanwhile, Kelly, heavily armed, left the building to negotiate directly with military officials at the Ministry of the Army.

Despite calls for surrender to avoid bloodshed, the defiant Alliance remained entrenched, ready to fight to the bitter end for Perón. These tense moments underscored the depth of division within Argentina as the regime crumbled.

In the early hours of September 21, 1955, tensions reached their breaking point in Buenos Aires. Guillermo Patricio Kelly, the fiery leader of the Nationalist Liberation Alliance, stormed out into the rain-soaked streets of Reconquista, ignoring the tanks and cavalry company positioned for an imminent attack. Consumed by fury after being told by Major Renner that Perón was leaving to avoid bloodshed, Kelly fumed: “What do I tell my men when they see their leader escape?” His defiance was evident, but fate had other plans.

As Kelly marched back toward the Alliance headquarters, he was stopped in his tracks by armed soldiers who ordered him to surrender. Disarmed and detained, Kelly was sent to police custody. Meanwhile, the situation at the Alliance’s stronghold deteriorated rapidly.

At precisely 1:14 AM, the 600 militants inside the building—who had vowed to die for Perón—opened fire on Army forces from windows and rooftops. The Army responded with machine-gun fire and tear gas, but the militants held their ground, displaying extraordinary fanaticism and resolve. The Army escalated the assault, with tanks unleashing a barrage of shells that shook the concrete structure and echoed through the city.

By 2:00 AM, the building was engulfed in flames. A devastating tank shell struck the munitions depot inside, triggering explosions that further destabilized the structure. The surviving militants evacuated, dragging their wounded comrades as the battle raged on. By 2:30 AM, the Alliance headquarters lay in ruins, its collapse symbolizing the fall of a regime marked by violence and repression.

Amid the chaos, two fire brigades arrived to prevent the flames from spreading to nearby buildings, while curious onlookers were kept at bay by law enforcement. The fiery destruction cast a sinister glow over Buenos Aires, marking the end of the Alliance’s defiant stand.

Elsewhere, confusion reigned within the naval forces loyal to the rebels. Believing a counterattack was imminent, Admiral Domingo Aramburu disbanded the Naval Operations Command, allowing his men to act independently. Most boarded the Ushuaia and Manduví, leaving others scattered throughout the city or holding their positions. In the disarray, the ships departed prematurely, abandoning some personnel and failing to secure critical equipment.

The dramatic fall of the Nationalist Liberation Alliance headquarters and the disorganized retreat of naval forces underscored the unraveling of Perón’s remaining loyalist factions. It was a night of fire, defiance, and collapse, sealing the fate of a regime that once dominated Argentina’s political landscape.

ALN Rally During Peronism’s Heyday

A Glimpse of Glory: ALN Rally During Peronism’s Heyday

In the height of Peronism’s reign, the Nationalist Liberation Alliance (ALN) hosted grandiose rallies that epitomized their unwavering loyalty to the regime. The atmosphere buzzed with fervor as flags waved and voices roared in unison, chanting praises for Perón and vows of eternal allegiance. These gatherings showcased not just political solidarity, but a deep-rooted ideological commitment that blended nationalism, populism, and militant resolve.

The ALN, renowned for its fierce rhetoric and combative stance, drew crowds with theatrical displays of patriotism, fiery speeches, and the ever-present symbolism of the Peronist movement. Leaders like Guillermo Patricio Kelly stood at the forefront, rallying supporters with impassioned calls for unity and defiance against perceived enemies of the state. It was a spectacle of both political power and popular devotion, a reflection of the strong grip Perón held over his followers during his golden era.

These moments, rich with enthusiasm and idealism, painted a stark contrast to the chaos and disintegration that would later consume the Alliance. In those days, the ALN stood tall as a pillar of Peronist militancy, confident in its cause and unwavering in its mission to defend the regime at all costs.

On September 21, clashes also broke out in Mar del Plata. That morning, the population spontaneously gathered in the city center, forming large groups of men and women who, despite the rain, marched to the Casa del Pueblo, headquarters of the Socialist Party, to listen to fiery speeches by several opposition representatives, including Roberto Crocitto and Aurelio Principi.

By midday, a naval patrol traveling in a military truck spotted five suspicious individuals walking along the street. When ordered to stop, they ran toward the building at Av. Luro 3137, barricaded themselves inside, and began firing from the third floor.

An intense shootout ensued, with additional troops patrolling the area joining the fray. The confrontation ended when the Peronist militants fled the scene.

In the afternoon, several people arrived to inspect the bullet marks on the building's third and fourth floors and verify rumors of multiple casualties. However, the new authorities provided no official information, and after a couple of hours, the crowd dispersed.

Later that night, around 10:00 PM, another shootout occurred. Groups of Peronist workers, taking cover behind freight wagons at the train station and the dense vegetation of nearby forests, attacked Navy forces guarding the radio stations in the Municipal Sports Park. The exchange of fire lasted until 5:00 AM on September 22 and ended when the unionist groups withdrew, taking several injured comrades with them.

As with the previous day, the Friends of the Local Workers' Union Movement issued a new statement reaffirming their earlier proclamation, urging workers to cooperate with the occupying forces and peacefully continue their daily occupations.

Attendance and dedication to work, despite any attempts to disrupt it, are today our greatest weapon. Ensuring that the city’s economy remains unaffected is our best contribution to maintaining normalcy. At this moment, there are no union leaders in charge, and no one can claim direct representation. However, there must be, in every workplace, a steadfast commitment to work conscientiously.

The Revolution has given true meaning to the slogan “Produce – Produce”, as production now benefits everyone—serving the normal life of the people and the goals of the Liberating Revolution [3].

The final military action of the Liberating Revolution occurred at 5:00 AM, following General Lonardi's decision to break the ceasefire in Córdoba. By that time, Lonardi had been chosen as the future president of the nation, and preparations for forming a new cabinet were underway. However, during the night, suspicious troop movements were observed both in the southern provinces and Córdoba, violating the imposed ceasefire. Perceived as a potential threat to the rebel forces, these maneuvers prompted a demonstration of force to signal the provisional junta of generals that the revolutionaries were prepared for any escalation.

As historian Ruiz Moreno explains, the rebels targeted the Las Higueras airfield in Río Cuarto. The airfield posed a strategic risk, as it could serve as a launch point for loyalist aircraft capable of striking the Aviation School and the provincial capital. Responding to the threat, Commodore Krausse contacted Base Comandante Espora to request an airstrike. The Revolutionary Air Command approved the mission, and Captain Arturo Rial dispatched two Avro Lincoln bombers piloted by Captains Ricardo Rossi and Orlando Jesús Cappellini.

In the early hours of the morning, the bomber crews loaded their aircraft with 200-kilogram bombs and ammunition, performed pre-flight checks, and taxied to the runway. At 2:15 AM, Cappellini's aircraft took off first, followed closely by Rossi's, embarking on a perilous night mission under torrential rain and poor visibility. Years later, Cappellini recalled the challenging conditions: “We took off after 2:00 AM in torrential rain. They provided us with excellent 200-kilogram bombs, which we didn’t have in Córdoba, but they lacked safety fuses.”

By 4:00 AM, the bombers reached their target. However, Cappellini's aircraft faced a critical issue: one of its turbines had detached during acceleration, compromising its stability. Communicating with the control tower at the Aviation School, he reported the malfunction. In response, Captain Hilario Maldonado instructed Cappellini to maintain a circular holding pattern over the target and delay the attack until 6:00 AM.

This marked the Revolution's final offensive—a calculated display of power in the face of lingering resistance, ensuring the success of their cause and the imminent transition of power.

September 21, 1955, 06:00: Captains Cappellini and Rossi Strike Río Cuarto Airfield (Photo: Juan Carlos Cicalesi)

At 6:00 AM, Captain Cappellini received the go-ahead to proceed with the bombing of Río Cuarto Air Base. Reviewing the coordinates on his flight chart, he noted the target was to be struck from an altitude no lower than 700 meters to avoid being hit by their own bomb shrapnel. Concerned about the risk of detection at dawn, Cappellini voiced his objections, but Commodore Krausse responded curtly and decisively: “Proceed with the order.”

Flying in circles until the designated time, the bombers waited for a break in the clouds. As dawn broke, the crossed runways of Las Higueras Airfield became visible through a gap, signaling the moment to strike. The two Avro Lincolns initiated their attack runs, releasing a total of eighteen bombs—ten from Rossi's aircraft and eight from Cappellini’s, though two bombs from the latter failed to release and remained stuck.

The mission complete, the aircraft sharply banked away from the target, enduring violent turbulence caused by the explosions below. Thankfully, none of the shrapnel struck the planes, allowing them to return safely to Base Comandante Espora. Cappellini’s aircraft, however, required a manual release of the jammed bombs, which the onboard mechanic jettisoned into the sea during the return flight. Both bombers landed safely at 8:00 AM, concluding the last aerial operation of the conflict.

The attack caused no casualties, as the airfield had been evacuated prior to the raid. However, it achieved its intended objective: intimidating loyalist forces. Shortly after the strike, General Falconnier called from Villa Reynolds, requesting the suspension of a planned bombing of the Río Cuarto rail station, where two trains carrying tanks had just arrived. He assured the rebels that no troops would be mobilized from that location, signaling the diminishing resistance to the revolution’s advance.

“"The day perfectly matches the occasion—a beautiful sun warms our chilled bodies. How wonderful is the sun's warmth after a freezing night!

Around midday, Alférez C. gathers all group leaders to remind us to keep personnel closer at hand. He, too, notices the gradual relaxation of discipline. Following his instructions, I assemble the group and address them. Fortunately, I find the right words to restore order without resorting to disciplinary measures. They’re all good men.

Finally, good news arrives! We’re informed that a military government has been formed to temporarily lead the Republic. General Lonardi has been named President, Vice Admiral Rojas is the Vice President, and our own Commodore Krausse will serve as Minister of Foreign Affairs.

Although we cannot fully grasp the significance of this moment, the truth is that we have helped change the course of our nation's history. The fall of this regime reaffirms that our people will never accept anything that tarnishes their most cherished legacy: their freedom.

First Lieutenant F. went to confirm the news and returned with happiness written all over his face. He gathered us in a clearing, shared the situation, and congratulated us on our efforts. Within our chests, we felt something I can only describe as the manifestation of that abstract entity we call the Fatherland.

The traditional ‘Subordination and Valor’ was never answered with more emotion.

We then received orders to prepare our gear and begin retreating as soon as possible. Alférez C. shakes our hands and toasts with us to celebrate the success of the movement.

Well, it seems I’m destined to savor every last drop of this Revolution. The entire company is heading back to the school, except for the groups led by ‘Turco,’ ‘Cabezón,’ and myself, tasked with guarding the northern sector of the airstrip. I’m tired—exhausted, really—but I try to lift the spirits of the troops. If I don’t, I don’t know where they’ll find the strength to continue. We are under the orders of First Lieutenant F., who seems deeply troubled by having to stay behind. It’s understandable; he has a wife and children waiting for him.

And so here we are, waiting for the tents to arrive so we can spend the night. When they finally arrive, we set them up, and then dinner is served—a plate of polenta with sauce, which soothes not just our hunger but the gnawing ache of exhaustion.

After posting guards at a nearby crossroads, I lay down. Thankfully, someone left me a cot, which is far more comfortable than the trench. My weary bones couldn’t be happier."

This vivid recounting captures the mix of relief, pride, and fatigue experienced by the soldiers in the final days of the Liberating Revolution, as they reflect on their role in shaping the nation’s future.[6].

Another View of the Destroyed Nationalist Liberation Alliance Building (Photo: Isidoro Ruiz Moreno, The Revolution of '55', Volume II)

 


The press publishes the attack to the ALN headquarters


Guillermo Patricio Kelly, ALN CEO several years after the attack


Brig. Orlando Jesús Cappellini, several years after the revolution. Jointly to Captain Ricardo Rossi led the last combat mission.

Notes

1. Isidoro Ruiz Moreno, op. Cit, T. II, p. 362.
2. Ídem, pp. 366-366.
3. Nieto, Agustín; op. Cit.
4. Ídem, p. 344.
5. Las bombas el piloto carecían de seguros y eso le impedía aterrizar.
6. “…del Diario de un Cadete”, revista “Cielo”, Buenos Aires.

Revolución Libertadora: Doubts and Fears Seal the Dictator's Fate

Perón Hesitates



Perón, Surrounded by His Ministers, Listens to the Report from General Arnaldo Sosa Molina (Ilustración: Isidoro Ruiz Moreno, La Revolución del 55, Tomo I)

A striking aspect throughout the conflict was Perón's peculiar behavior. His reticence and silence puzzled many, as he delegated full command to General Lucero. “Both supporters and opponents were baffled by his passivity, while battles that would determine the Nation's future—and his own—raged fiercely by air, sea, and land,” remarked one historian.

The man who once led Latin America’s most transformative social revolution, challenged the United States and the Allied powers after World War II, and attempted to create a "Fourth Reich" in Argentina by bringing Axis scientists and war criminals to the country, now seemed hesitant and devoid of initiative. His fiery rhetoric of the past still resonated, chilling citizens with its violent tone: "You ask me to fight? Why don’t you start yourselves?" (May 1, 1953), "The day hanging begins, I’ll stand with those doing the hanging!" (August 2, 1946), "They’ll have to kill me fighting!" (August 13, 1946), "We’ll raise gallows across the nation to hang the opposition!" (September 11, 1947), "We’ll distribute baling wire to hang our enemies!" (August 31, 1947), and his infamous declaration, "For every one of us, five of them will fall!" Yet, now, the man who had once uttered these words with conviction appeared paralyzed.

This mysterious inaction, paired with his silence since the hostilities began, began to irritate even his closest allies. Major Carlos Aloé, Governor of Buenos Aires Province, could not understand why Perón remained in his heavily guarded residence, avoiding both military command and leveraging his powerful influence over the Armed Forces and the public.

General Raúl Tassi, head of the National Defense School, observed Perón’s behavior during a meeting at the underground bunker of the Ministry of the Army, where the Communications Center of the Repression Command was based. The meeting, convened by General Lucero, brought together senior military leaders to monitor the ongoing conflict. Perón arrived accompanied by generals and colonels, visibly distressed and, by all accounts, frightened. His demeanor worsened upon learning that the Cuyo Army had also joined the uprising. At that moment, whatever composure he had left completely absent.

At the headquarters of the 1st Army Division in Palermo, General Ernesto Fatigatti requested authorization from Perón to lead the 1st and 2nd Infantry Regiments (then in reserve) in a march on Córdoba to crush the revolution by midday on September 21. However, Perón—once renowned for his oratory skills, his ability to captivate and inflame the masses—offered no response. Instead, he nervously smoked, drank coffee, and remained silent.

Years later, Perón’s nephew and aide-de-camp, Major Ignacio Cialcetta, revealed that the dictator “did nothing.” He left all decisions to Lucero and, while not entirely defeated in spirit, seemed detached. Perón reportedly spent two nights hiding in a house in Belgrano and, according to other accounts, in the nuclear bunker he had built beneath the Alas building—a claim without concrete evidence, though rumors also suggested he used it during the June 16 bombings.

Despite having capable and loyal generals—Lucero, Fatigatti, Iñíguez, and Sosa Molina—Perón failed to act. His attitude infuriated Interior Minister Dr. Oscar Albrieu, who met with him at the Government House in the early hours of September 19. Albrieu urged Perón to take charge of the repression, arguing that the situation was deteriorating. Yet, the president remained inert. Ruiz Moreno captures their exchange in his work, highlighting Perón’s indecision at a critical juncture:

-"General, don’t lose focus. Let’s return to the Ministry of the Army. Things there are not being handled properly."

-"And what do you want me to do?" Perón replied.

-"General, I believe you should assume command of the Repression Forces and announce on the radio that you will personally take command in Córdoba. I’m certain that would put an end to all of this.".

These words displeased Perón, who responded badly.

-You don't know the generals. I think they are handling things well. Besides, I don't like the fact that they kill the little soldiers. I prefer things to stay that way.

So it was Albrieu who expressed his annoyance.

-General, we are at war! I would even be justified in saying that the non-commissioned officer who kills a rebellious officer will take his place in the ranks...! I will take any measure to defend a constitutional government!

Despite the gravity in Albrieu’s tone, Perón did not react, effectively ending the conversation on the spot.

Meanwhile, General Lucero worked tirelessly, determined to crush the uprising as swiftly as possible. On the 18th, one of his first actions was to reinforce the units engaged in repression by calling up the 1931, 1932, and 1933 conscript classes in the First and Second Military Regions under the command of Lieutenant General Emilio Forcher. This measure bolstered key units, including the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd Infantry Regiments, the 2nd Artillery Regiment, the Regiment of Mounted Grenadiers, and the Motorized Regiment "Buenos Aires." Together with the security companies tasked with guarding arsenals, military factories, and depots, these reinforcements brought troop numbers to 18,000, not counting an additional 1,200 volunteers.

By Monday, the 19th, Perón arrived at the Ministry of the Army before 6:00 AM, accompanied by Governor Aloé. In Lucero’s office, Generals José Domingo Molina, Commander-in-Chief of the Army, and Carlos Wirth, Chief of Staff, informed him that the situation on the front was favorable and that the rebellion’s suppression was only a matter of hours. However, the leaders of the repression failed to recognize a critical error: by not ordering a final offensive with the requisite force, they allowed the revolutionaries to regroup. Hoping to avoid unnecessary bloodshed, they opted instead to pressure the rebel forces with sheer numbers, aiming to convince them of the futility of resistance. This half-measure was a serious misstep, as the revolutionary forces were resolute and prepared to fight with unrelenting ferocity, as demonstrated by General Lonardi’s fiery speech on September 16.

Perón had every advantage. His forces surrounded Córdoba and Bahía Blanca, the Cuyo troops were wavering, and no other garrison had declared against him. The Fleet posed the only significant threat, but the Air Force and Naval Aviation were expected to neutralize it.

Given these circumstances, the Peronist high command began to feel confident, even euphoric. However, in the middle of the meeting, Perón abruptly called for silence and requested to be left alone with Lucero and Aloé.

Confused but compliant, the senior officers exited the room, waiting in the antechamber in a mix of anticipation and uncertainty. As the door closed behind them, they had no idea that the final chapter of the crisis was about to unfold.

Once alone, Perón announced that he had decided to resign.

-We already know that these barbarians will have no scruples about doing so (he was referring to bombing the cities of La Plata and Buenos Aires). It is necessary to avoid massacre and destruction. I do not wish to be a factor in such savagery being unleashed on the innocent city, and on the works that we have worked so hard to build. To feel this, it is necessary to know how to build. Parasites hardly love the work of others.

Lucero and Aloe were speechless, astonished and confused. They remained like that for a few moments until Lucero broke the silence to express that he was in solidarity with his boss and that, consequently, he would also resign. However, he immediately seemed to react and, trying to convince Perón, he expressed his opinion, proposing the creation of an operations force under the direct orders of the president based on the First Army Division, declaring at the same time Buenos Aires an open city, defended by elements of the General Maritime Prefecture, the National Gendarmerie, the Federal Police and the Armed Forces (the latter in small numbers), all of them supported by Peronist militiamen. However, his words were of no use. Under the pretext of avoiding a useless shedding of blood and the destruction of what he considered his “masterpiece”: the oil installations in La Plata, Perón repeated that he had decided to leave power. Lucero insisted again, explaining that the rebellion was practically under control and that it was only a matter of hours before both Córdoba and Bahía Blanca fell (he knew perfectly well that the Army of Cuyo did not constitute any threat). But even so, Perón maintained his position and withdrew, ordering a meeting of generals for that same afternoon.



Two hours later, the still-President of the Nation sent Lucero a handwritten note addressed to the Army and the People. In it, he announced his resignation and declared that he was leaving everything in the hands of the Army, the only entity he deemed capable of taking control of the situation and achieving the much-desired pacification of the country.

With the note in hand, Lucero summoned Vice President Rear Admiral Alberto Teissaire, Minister of the Interior Dr. Carlos Albrieu, and CGT Secretary General Héctor Di Pietro to his office. After informing them of its contents, he opened the floor for their comments. Di Pietro stated that if this was the general's will, the workers would comply, as they had always followed Perón's wishes. Expressing solidarity with his leader, Lucero immediately drafted his irrevocable resignation and then summoned General José Domingo Molina, entrusting him with organizing a Junta of Generals to take charge of governance and peace negotiations.

At 12:55 PM, Radio del Estado, broadcasting nationwide, issued a message that shocked both the revolutionary leaders and the broader population. General Lucero invited the rebel commanders to the Ministry of the Army to begin discussions aimed at pacifying the country and finding a resolution.

This announcement stunned General José María Sosa Molina, commander of repression in Córdoba, who could hardly believe what he was hearing. His astonishment was so great that he initially thought it was a tactic to confuse loyalist forces. “With victory practically in his grasp, Perón walked away,” Sosa Molina would later recall. “...With the battle nearly won, my commanders informed me they had heard the ceasefire order on the radio. I couldn’t believe it. We had everything in our hands, and now we were being told to hold our positions.” It wasn’t until he heard the resignations confirmed on the radio later in the afternoon that he accepted the situation.

A similar reaction came from the resolute General Iñíguez, who was leading his forces in a rapid advance toward central Córdoba. As his troops pressed forward, a messenger rushed to his position with an order to halt the attack and news that a junta of generals had assumed control. When Iñíguez learned that government forces were to cease all hostilities, hold their positions, and await further instructions, he was left dumbfounded.

At 2:27 PM, General Lucero's message, broadcast on Radio del Estado, was answered by Admiral Rojas aboard the La Argentina. Rojas announced that military operations would be suspended until midnight on September 19 and that the requested meeting would take place aboard his ship, anchored at the mouth of the Río de la Plata, rather than at the Ministry of the Army, as Lucero had suggested. Meanwhile, from Córdoba, Lonardi issued a statement signed as the leader of the "Revolución Libertadora," demanding the immediate resignation of the President and his entire cabinet. Distrustful of Perón, Lonardi took precautionary measures to ensure the revolution's success.

Notes

1. Isidoro Ruiz Moreno, op. cit, Cap. 9, Tomo II.
2. Ídem, p. 315, Tomo II.
3. It was the first time ever to use this designation.

1955 Guerra Civil. La Revolución Libertadora y la Caída de Perón

1955 Revolution: The FLOMAR Bombs Mar del Plata

The cruiser "9 de Julio" bombs positions in Mar del Plata.

The Sea Fleet on the Attack

Mar del Plata. Fuel depots in flames. (Photo: Isidoro Ruiz Moreno, La Revolución del 55, Tomo II)

Until the night of the 18th, no one knew where the Sea Fleet was located. At the time of the outbreak, the fleet was anchored in Puerto Madryn and consisted of the cruisers 17 de Octubre and La Argentina; the destroyers Buenos Aires, San Luis, Entre Ríos, and San Juan; the frigates Hércules, Heroína, and Sarandí; the salvage ship Charrúa; and the repair ship Ingeniero Iribas, under the command of Captains Fermín Eleta and Adolfo Videla, Commanders Eladio Vázquez, Benigno Varela, Aldo Abelardo Pantín, Mario Pensotti, Pedro Arhancet, Leartes Santucci, and César Goria, Commander Marco Bence, and Commander Jorge Mezzadra respectively.

Vice Admiral Juan C. Basso commanded the fleet from his flagship, the 17 de Octubre, assisted by Rear Admiral Néstor Gabrielli, commander of the Cruiser Force, aboard La Argentina; Captain Raimundo Palau, commander of the Destroyer Squadron, aboard Entre Ríos; and Captain Agustín Lariño, commander of the Frigate Division, aboard Hércules. On the 17 de Octubre were also the Chief of Operations, Commander Enrique Gunwaldt, and Captain Raúl Elsegood, Chief of Staff.

The first sign of the uprising reached the fleet at 08:22 on September 16, when Vice Admiral Basso received a communication from the Naval Operations Command informing him of recent events. Two and a half hours later (11:00), rebel officers led by Captain Agustín P. Lariño and Commander Aldo Pantín gathered aboard the Hércules to begin the mutiny and take control of the fleet.

As planned, Grunwaldt, supported by Captain Manuel Rodríguez, the Communications Chief Captain Félix E. Fitte, and Lieutenant Rodolfo Fasce, moved to the 17 de Octubre with the mission to subdue its commander and Captains Raúl Elsewood and Fermín Eleta. At gunpoint, they were locked in a cabin under the guard of Lieutenant Ricardo Bustamante. Ruiz Moreno recounts that during this time, Lieutenant José A. Lagomarsino proceeded to rip out the internal telephone cables, thereby cutting off communication for the loyal elements on board.

Minutes later, Commander Carlos A. Borzone reported from La Argentina that the situation on the ship was under control, as it was on the Buenos Aires, Entre Ríos, and the rest of the units. On the Buenos Aires, Rear Admiral Gabrielli was subdued by Captain Videla; on the Entre Ríos, its commander, Captain Vázquez, detained his second-in-command and a lieutenant; and on the last vessel, Captain Pantín did the same with Captain Palau, the head of the Destroyer Squadron.

A confusing incident occurred on the flagship when Captain Lariño, arriving from the Hércules, appeared. Suspecting his intentions, Captain Grunwaldt ordered his arrest, unaware that Lariño was a declared supporter of the revolution. He had Lariño locked in the commander's cabin. Captain Alberto Tarelli had to intervene to clarify the situation, securing Lariño’s immediate release. As Ruiz Moreno explains, Lariño remained on board the 17 de Octubre as a tactical command officer and never returned to the Hércules.

Before departing, Lariño ordered that the detained officers be transferred to the Ingeniero Iribas, which at that time was docked in Puerto Madryn. Deeply saddened by the situation of his superior, Vice Admiral Basso, whom he respected and admired, Lariño instructed that as they left the ship, Basso be given the honors due to a commander.

Basso was a loyal man, a true gentleman, and a stickler for regulations and orders from his superiors. Despite his many disagreements with the government, he remained loyal to it. Many officers were deeply moved when they saw him leave the ship, including Lariño himself, who stood watching from a distance as the vice admiral ordered his flag to be lowered.[1]

Shortly after the fleet's uprising, a Catalina aircraft landed in Puerto Madryn, carrying the officers that Commanders Perren and Rial had sent to take control: Captains Carlos Bruzzone, Mario Robbio, and Luis Mallea; Commanders Raúl González Vergara and Recaredo Vázquez; and Lieutenant Benjamín Oscar Cosentino. Once ashore, they were taken aboard the ships and briefed on the recent developments.

Robbio was appointed Chief of Staff, with Vázquez and González Vergara as his aides. Mallea was named head of the Destroyer Squadron, and Bruzzone was made commander of the 17 de Octubre. Lariño remained as fleet commander, with the other officers continuing in their respective posts.

After ordering the Destroyer Squadron to return immediately to Puerto Madryn, the fleet's command informed the crews that anyone who felt obligated to remain loyal to the national government and did not wish to fight against it could disembark without fear of reprisal. Of the 6,000 personnel aboard, only 85 chose to disembark, most of them conscripts. Two officers, Félix Darquier and Alcides Cardozo, seven petty officers, and two sailors were among those who left the fleet, using a tugboat designated for the task, which picked them up from each naval unit.

The fleet was now in open rebellion. Under these circumstances, it weighed anchor and set off northward, divided into two groups. The main group, led by the 17 de Octubre, headed toward the Río de la Plata, while the remaining destroyers San Luis, Entre Ríos, Buenos Aires, and San Juan set course for Puerto Belgrano.

By midday on September 18, the fleet was sailing north at full speed, maintaining radio silence. Its crew members felt a mix of indescribable emotion and deep confusion. The Navy was heading to battle for the first time in the century, not since the revolution of 1893 and the battle of El Espinillo had they faced such a situation, which carried great significance. It was the moment many had awaited, though something still weighed heavily on them—the conflict was between countrymen, and this deeply affected the sailors' morale. By this point, many lives had already been lost, and many wondered how many more would follow.

Until the night of September 18, no one knew where the Sea Fleet was located. At the time of the uprising, it had been anchored in Puerto Madryn, composed of the cruisers 17 de Octubre and La Argentina; the destroyers Buenos Aires, San Luis, Entre Ríos, and San Juan; the frigates Hércules, Heroína, and Sarandí; the salvage ship Charrúa; and the repair ship Ingeniero Iribas. These vessels were commanded by Captains Fermín Eleta and Adolfo Videla, Commanders Eladio Vázquez, Benigno Varela, Aldo Abelardo Pantín, Mario Pensotti, Pedro Arhancet, Leartes Santucci, and César Goria, Lieutenant Commander Marco Bence, and Commander Jorge Mezzadra, respectively.

Vice Admiral Juan C. Basso commanded the fleet from his flagship, the 17 de Octubre, assisted by Rear Admiral Néstor Gabrielli, commander of the Cruiser Force, aboard La Argentina; Captain Raimundo Palau, commander of the Destroyer Squadron, aboard the Entre Ríos; and Captain Agustín Lariño, commander of the Frigate Division, aboard the Hércules. On the 17 de Octubre, the Chief of Operations, Commander Enrique Gunwaldt, and Captain Raúl Elsegood, Chief of Staff, were also aboard.

The first signal of the uprising reached the fleet at 08:22 on September 16, when Vice Admiral Basso received a communication from the Naval Operations Command informing him of the recent events. Two and a half hours later, at 11:00, rebel officers led by Captain Agustín P. Lariño and Commander Aldo Pantín met aboard the Hércules to initiate the mutiny and take control of the fleet.

As planned, Grunwaldt, supported by Captain Manuel Rodríguez, Communications Chief Captain Félix E. Fitte, and Lieutenant Rodolfo Fasce, moved to the 17 de Octubre with the mission to subdue its commander and Captains Raúl Elsewood and Fermín Eleta. At gunpoint, they were locked in a cabin under the guard of Lieutenant Ricardo Bustamante. Ruiz Moreno recounts that during this time, Lieutenant José A. Lagomarsino ripped out the internal telephone cables, cutting off communication for the loyal elements on board.

Early morning of September 19. The cruiser *9 de Julio* opens fire on the fuel depots at the port of Mar del Plata.(Imagen: gentileza Fundación Histarmar Historia y Arqueología Marítima)

Minutes later, Commander Carlos A. Borzone reported from La Argentina that the situation aboard was under control, as it was on the Buenos Aires, Entre Ríos, and the other ships. On the Buenos Aires, Rear Admiral Gabrielli had been subdued by Captain Videla; on the Entre Ríos, Captain Vázquez had detained his second-in-command and a lieutenant; and on the Entre Ríos, Captain Pantín had done the same with Captain Palau, the head of the Destroyer Squadron.

A confusing incident took place aboard the flagship when Captain Lariño arrived from the Hércules. Suspicious of him, Captain Grunwaldt ordered his arrest, unaware that Lariño was a declared supporter of the revolution, and had him locked in the commander's cabin. Captain Alberto Tarelli had to intervene to clear up the situation, securing Lariño’s immediate release. As Ruiz Moreno explains, Lariño remained aboard the 17 de Octubre as a tactical command officer and never returned to the Hércules.

Before departing, Lariño ordered the transfer of the detained officers to the Ingeniero Iribas, which was docked at Puerto Madryn. Deeply saddened by the situation of his superior, Vice Admiral Basso, whom he admired and respected, Lariño ordered that Basso be given full honors as a commander when he left the ship.

Basso was a loyal man, a true gentleman, and a strict follower of regulations and orders from his superiors. Despite his disagreements with the government, he remained loyal. Many officers were moved when they saw him leave the ship, including Lariño, who watched from a distance as the vice admiral ordered his flag to be lowered.

Shortly after the fleet's mutiny, a Catalina aircraft landed in Puerto Madryn, carrying the officers that Commanders Perren and Rial had sent to take command: Captains Carlos Bruzzone, Mario Robbio, and Luis Mallea; Commanders Raúl González Vergara and Recaredo Vázquez; and Lieutenant Benjamín Oscar Cosentino. Once on land, they were taken aboard the ships and briefed on the latest developments.

Robbio was appointed Chief of Staff, with Vázquez and González Vergara as his aides, Mallea as head of the Destroyer Squadron, and Bruzzone as commander of the 17 de Octubre. Lariño remained the commander of the Navy, with the rest of the officers continuing in their respective posts.

After ordering the immediate return of the Destroyer Squadron to Puerto Madryn, the fleet command informed the crews that anyone who felt compelled to remain loyal to the national government and did not wish to fight against it could disembark without fear of reprisal. Of the 6,000 personnel on board, only 85 chose to leave, most of them conscripts. Two officers, Félix Darquier and Alcides Cardozo, seven petty officers, and two sailors were among those who left the fleet, using a specially designated tugboat to pick them up from each naval unit.

The fleet was now in open rebellion. Under these circumstances, it weighed anchor and set sail northward, divided into two groups. The main force, led by the 17 de Octubre, headed for the Río de la Plata, while the destroyers San Luis, Entre Ríos, Buenos Aires, and San Juan made their way to Puerto Belgrano.

By midday on September 18, the Navy was heading north at full speed and maintaining radio silence. The crew members felt a mix of indescribable emotion and confusion. The Navy was going to war for the first time in this century, having last seen combat during the revolution of 1893 at the battle of El Espinillo, which carried significant meaning. It was the moment many had anticipated, though something didn’t sit right with them—the conflict was between fellow countrymen, and this weighed heavily on the sailors' morale. Many lives had already been lost, and many wondered how many more would follow.

To avoid detection, the fleet maintained complete radio silence, while aboard the ships, some sailors speculated about various possibilities. The worst fear was that, after passing Puerto Belgrano, the fleet might launch a massive attack on Bahía Blanca, Punta Alta, and the rebel bases.

The bridge of the cruiser 17 de Octubre  (Imagen: gentileza Fundación Histarmar Historia y Arqueología Marítima)

What concerned the commanders was the inability to establish contact with the River Squadron due to the loss of the communication codes. Without them, any messages would be intercepted and decoded, revealing the operational plan. Two days later, the Sea Fleet reached the "Recalada" pontoon and joined the River Squadron.

Once inside the estuary, the minesweeper Robinson approached the 17 de Octubre, carrying Commander Carlos Sánchez Sañudo, who eagerly boarded the ship to greet his commander, Captain Bruzzone. From the bridge, Sánchez Sañudo called Admiral Rojas, and minutes later, the great cruiser, the flagship of the Argentine Navy, sailed past the Murature with its crew lined up on deck, firing seventeen salvos in honor of the new commander of the unified fleet. Following the cruiser, La Argentina did the same, its crew on deck, while thick plumes of smoke rose from its chimneys. As Ruiz Moreno recounts, "…seventeen crisp cannon shots affirmed the fleet’s subordination to its new commander."

Rojas, filled with emotion, watched the scene from the patrol vessel, accompanied by General Uranga and his senior naval and army officers, living what he described as the most sublime moment of his life and the pinnacle of his career. He was overwhelmed with pride, and the emotion reinvigorated him.

That same morning, with the wind whipping across the decks of the ships, Admiral Rojas boarded the 17 de Octubre, raised his flag on the mainmast, and at 11:45, issued the following statement: "The Sea Fleet has united with the River Squadron. I assume command as Commander-in-Chief." Fifteen minutes later, he announced by radio the blockade of the ports and declared the fleet to be in a state of belligerence.

At 18:00 on September 16, the destroyers San Luis and Entre Ríos entered Puerto Belgrano and docked at the main pier. Nearby, the 9 de Julio was completing its preparations to set sail the following day to join the fleet. By 22:00, the Buenos Aires and San Juan had arrived, followed shortly after by other units.

Aboard the Entre Ríos was Captain Palau, who had been detained and, upon arrival in port, was taken to the Moreno along with Senior Petty Officer Aníbal López, a known Peronist sympathizer. Both were locked up with the other prisoners.

The destroyers unloaded their torpedoes and depth charges and were then resupplied with the appropriate ammunition and provisions. Late into the night, after six hours of intense work, the naval operators finished refueling the ships, while the 9 de Julio was equipped with the necessary ammunition to supply each of the fleet’s units. After testing the machinery, fire control system, and mast antenna, everything was ready for departure. The unit was placed under the command of Captain Bernardo Benesch, with Commander Alberto M. de Marotte as his second-in-command and Commander Raúl Francos as chief of artillery.

The Naval Base at Mar del Plata was also a target of the rebel fleet. (Image: Fundación Histarmar Historia y Arqueología Marítima)


Frigate "Sarandí"  (Image: gentileza Fundación Histarmar Historia y Arqueología Marítima)


Frigate "Hércules" (Image: Fundación Histarmar Historia y Arqueología Marítima)


Destroyer "San Juan" (Image: Fundación Histarmar Historia y Arqueología Marítima)


Destroyer "San Luis" (Image: Fundación Histarmar Historia y Arqueología Marítima)


The cruiser La Argentina, flagship of Admiral Rojas until his transfer to the 17 de Octubre in the early hours of September 19. (Image: Fundación Histarmar Historia y Arqueología Marítima)


Destroyer "Buenos Aires" (Image: Fundación Histarmar Historia y Arqueología Marítima)


Workshop Ship "Ingeniero Iribas" (Image: Fundación Histarmar Historia y Arqueología Marítima)

Upon learning that the Navy had gathered in the Río de la Plata, the government ordered an air attack, given the success of the Air Force’s actions against the River Squadron on September 16. As a result, Admiral Luis J. Cornes, the Navy Minister, contacted Commander Crexell to inform him of the decision. The minister ordered Crexell to head immediately to the Morón Air Base, where Avro Lincoln bombers were operating, and where his friend, Commodore Luis A. Lapuente, was waiting to plan the mission.

Crexell was presented with two options: attack Espora Naval Base to neutralize the Naval Aviation units operating against the Army, or attack the fleet itself, a symbol now in the hands of the rebels. Crexell did not hesitate, believing that the fleet posed a far greater threat, especially with its firepower threatening Buenos Aires itself. In his opinion, it was more advantageous to keep the southern base intact and focus on harassing the ships that were endangering the capital.

Crexell and Lapuente met at the airbase, where Lapuente had been studying an attack plan. They agreed that the best course of action was to strike the fleet. They were confident of success because the large ships had ventured too deep into the waters of the Río de la Plata, limiting their maneuverability under attack. A significant development confirmed that the fleet was the right target: the Naval Intelligence Service deciphered codes from Puerto Belgrano, informing the government of the rebels’ communications.

At that time, the rebel radio stations were broadcasting news that the Navy would bomb Buenos Aires at noon, which prompted state-run broadcasters to quickly deny the claim, downplaying the enemy’s strength.

On the morning of September 17, the cruiser 9 de Julio and the destroyers Buenos Aires, San Luis, San Juan, and Entre Ríos set sail, heading directly towards the Río de la Plata. The next morning, Admiral Rojas was discussing matters in the command room with Commander Andrés Tropea when he received an urgent message from General Lonardi, informing him of the dire situation the revolutionary troops in Córdoba were facing.

Recognizing the gravity of the situation, Rojas convened his staff, briefed them, and decided on a show of force to relieve pressure on the rebel positions. It was decided that, if the units in Mar del Plata did not align with the revolution, they would bombard the fuel tanks, the Submarine Base, and the Anti-Aircraft Artillery Regiment at Camet—a measure requested by Puerto Belgrano. At 17:11 on September 18, the cruiser 17 de Octubre sent the following directive to its sister ship, the 9 de Julio: "Destroy the oil and gasoline depots at Mar del Plata, with prior warning to the population." Two hours later (19:02), the Destroyer Squadron received another message: "... destroy the oil tanks at Mar del Plata and bombard the Anti-Aircraft Regiment."

Leading the group, the 9 de Julio changed course and headed toward its targets.

Shortly after receiving the order, an unexpected event created tension aboard the 9 de Julio. Senior Petty Officer Miguel Spera, aware that the fleet would attack Mar del Plata, attempted to incite a mutiny among the crew, attacking an officer. He was shot dead at 22:30, and as his body was removed from the engine room, ten other suspects were arrested and locked in a cabin, heavily guarded by an armed detail.

Almost immediately, another shocking event confused the high command: Captain Bernardo Benesch refused to open fire on Mar del Plata, demonstrating that some still had not fully accepted that they were at war. Benesch declared that he would not shoot and locked himself in his cabin. If that was his stance, he should have spoken up earlier, disembarking at Puerto Belgrano when the command gave anyone who disagreed with the revolution the option to leave. His remaining aboard only to refuse the order at the critical moment indicated mere speculation on his part, and he was ordered to leave the unit immediately.

Commander Alberto de Marotte assumed command, and the attack mission continued as planned.

By that time, the fleet, led by the 9 de Julio, had reached the waters off Mar del Plata. At 21:15, the destroyer Entre Ríos sent a message to the Submarine Base, warning that if they did not align with the revolution, they would be bombed at dawn. The message also instructed that the civilian population be warned and stated that any forces resisting would be attacked. The message further specified the evacuation of the area from Playa Bristol to Playa Grande, extending five blocks inland. "To avoid further destruction, I demand the immediate presence of the director of the Anti-Aircraft School and the commander of the Submarine Force on board. If by midnight, the local radio stations have not broadcast the evacuation order, the Naval Base will be included among the targets to be bombed."

While these events unfolded, the repair ship Ingeniero Gadda and the submarine Santiago del Estero were heading toward the Río de la Plata, the latter commanded by Captain Juan Bonomi, who had left the Mar del Plata Base after the mutiny. Both vessels effectively carried out blockade and surveillance duties, with the submarine engaging when unidentified aircraft appeared.

The incident occurred in the early afternoon while the submarine and repair ship were following Admiral Rojas’ orders to approach Montevideo, issued at 08:50. The Ingeniero Gadda took position near Cabo Polonio, while the submarine moved closer to the designated point. At 13:10, the Santiago del Estero’s radar detected unidentified aircraft, prompting Captain Bonomi to sound the alarms. Five minutes later, he ordered his gunners to open fire with the 40mm Bofors cannon. At 13:20, he sent the terse message: "I have repelled attacks from enemy aircraft." Unable to dive due to the shallow waters of the Río de la Plata, the submarine, now a highly vulnerable target, had no choice but to shoot.

The Santiago del Estero was first overflown by two Uruguayan Air Force planes on a patrol mission, and later by a loyalist aircraft that passed overhead at low altitude. The submarine fired but missed both targets, forcing the first to maintain a distance and the second to turn away toward Buenos Aires without launching an attack. Thus, for the first time in Argentine history, Navy submarines engaged in combat.

"Submarines are particularly vulnerable on the surface; their protection lies in diving, and any minor hull damage could prevent them from submerging, leaving them defenseless against air attacks. The audacity and bravery of Commander Bonomi, commanding the Santiago del Estero, were well-known, and once again, he demonstrated them by venturing into the shallow waters of the Río de la Plata under the threat of government aircraft, where diving was impossible. Repelling air attacks with only a single 40mm Bofors gun was a situation that any naval officer would understand, and I could clearly appreciate the feelings of those with me when I received the brief message," wrote Rear Admiral Jorge E. Perren in his account [2].

On the morning of September 18, Commander Enrique Plater, commander of the Submarine Base, boarded a boat to meet with Commander Miguel Mauro Gamenara aboard the corvette República. He attempted to persuade Gamenara to join the rebel forces, but Plater stood his ground and left to meet secretly with Colonel Francisco Martos, head of the Anti-Aircraft Regiment at Camet, trying to convince him not to resist.

The details of that meeting and another that took place later near the city’s fire station are well-documented in Ruiz Moreno's work. Martos, believing the threat of bombing to be mere bluster, refused to notify the population to evacuate and, suspecting that Plater was a revolutionary sympathizer, attempted to detain him.

The destroyer Entre Ríos was one of the ships that attacked Camet (Image: Fundación Histarmar Historia y Arqueología Marítima)

From the bridge of the Entre Ríos, communication was established with the base, demanding the presence of Plater and his second-in-command, Commander Francisco Panzeri, under the threat of initiating action if they did not comply. This made it clear that neither of the two officers supported the rebels, leading Martos to release them.

Plater and Panzeri returned to the base, observed by numerous Federal Police forces that Martos had deployed along the coast, reinforced by armed civilians from the Justicialist Party. At 03:10, Plater returned to the Entre Ríos, accompanied by Commander Rafael González Aldalur. Half an hour later, he left the ship, deeply saddened by his failure to reach an agreement. He had engaged in a heated argument with Captain Pantín, who harshly criticized him for not preventing bloodshed, leaving Plater confused and unsure of how to proceed.

The Mar del Plata Naval Base was in a grave situation, threatened from the sea by the rebel fleet and surrounded on land by loyalist forces. In a severely demoralized state, Plater asked Panzeri to raise a white flag in surrender and prepare to lay down arms, but Panzeri refused.

At 05:30, Plater convened a meeting with his officers to inform them of the situation. His state of mind was such that his second-in-command, Commander Mario Peralta, forcefully rebuked him, demanding that he act according to his rank and urging him to choose a side. When Plater failed to do so, Peralta took command, declared in favor of the uprising, and alerted the Anti-Aircraft Artillery Regiment and the Federal Police to warn the civilian population of the impending attack. Ten minutes later, the 9 de Julio sounded the call to battle stations and aimed its guns at the target.

At 06:10 on September 19, a Martín Mariner aircraft, returning to Puerto Belgrano after a failed mission to bomb the Dock Sud refineries, made contact with the 9 de Julio, requesting permission to bomb the fuel depots at the port of Mar del Plata. Permission was granted, and the naval aircraft approached the large tanks, dropping its bombs under cover of night before retreating southward.

Although none of the bombs hit their target, the maneuver served to show the local forces that the threat was real. The detonations startled the population, many of whom were still asleep at the time, and some rushed out of bed to see what was happening through their windows. The darkness of the night made it difficult to see, though the glow of flames eerily illuminated the cloud-covered sky above the city.

On the 9 de Julio, orders were being exchanged rapidly. In the Fire Control Center, the Chief of Artillery, Commander Raúl Francos, prepared to open fire as the ship rocked from the heavy waves. At 06:15, Commander De Marotte announced over the loudspeakers that, following orders from Fleet Command, they were preparing to open fire on the first target: the fuel depots in Mar del Plata. He also stated that the destroyers would target the Anti-Aircraft Artillery Regiment at Camet and reassured the crew that the targets were strictly military, with civilians being evacuated by city authorities. He further declared: "The purpose of these actions is to show those who have debased the country, trampling on freedom, laws, and the dearest Argentine values, that the revolutionary forces are determined to eliminate the perpetrators of such infamies. If necessary, we will also attack the port of Buenos Aires."

His final words were meant to raise spirits: "As Argentines, it pains us greatly to fire upon our own, but the blindness of those who have dishonored justice and led us into moral ruin forces us to take this extreme measure. The Nation expects everything from our courage and our strict adherence to duty. Crew of the cruiser 9 de Julio: man your battle stations!"

In addition to this stirring address, Ruiz Moreno recounts the orders sent from the bridge to the information center: with heading 180, speed 5, revolutions 0-5-1, and a distance of 9-1, 9-1, the cruiser entered the sector, and at 07:14, the attack began.

The three guns in each of the five artillery turrets fired a first salvo, shaking the ship. Four more salvos followed, with each turret firing one gun at a time, and all three firing simultaneously from the fourth volley onward. The target was hit directly. Three tanks exploded in flames, sending out thick tongues of fire that lit up the night ominously. Despite the darkness, the lookouts aboard the ship could make out several tanks still intact, prompting a resumption of the bombardment. Another barrage of shells fell on the area, transforming it into an inferno. The explosions created a thick cloud of smoke that began drifting horizontally towards Miramar, carried quickly by the winds.

In the pre-dawn darkness, the civilian population hurriedly evacuated the area under persistent rain.

The fuel depots at the port of Mar del Plata are ablaze after the naval bombardment.

At a distance of 289 degrees and 9,700 yards, the 9 de Julio launched its final attack at 07:23, once again targeting the fuel depots. A total of 68 six-inch shells were fired, destroying nine of the eleven oil tanks and severely damaging the tenth. The shells landed with remarkable precision, within an area 200 meters long and 75 meters wide, with only five shells falling outside that range, no more than 200 meters from its boundary. No civilians were injured.

After 10 minutes of shelling, the 9 de Julio withdrew to provide anti-aircraft cover for the destroyers as they began their operations.

While the fleet was attacking the oil tanks, the Submarine Base was being surrounded by loyalist forces from the Federal Police, Anti-Aircraft Artillery Regiment troops who had positioned their 40mm Bofors cannons on the hills surrounding the golf course, and heavily armed Peronist civilians. As a result, Commander Peralta, acting commander of the base, urgently requested support from the Destroyer Squadron for artillery cover: "I estimate I am about to be attacked. Request artillery support." The response came quickly.

-"I will provide fire support immediately. You must designate a ground spotter and establish a link on channel GAS-1."

The destroyers Entre Ríos, Buenos Aires, and San Luis, supported by the corvette República, began their approach at 12 knots, precisely as the 9 de Julio ceased firing. On the Buenos Aires, Commander Eladio Vázquez ordered the Chief of Artillery, Lieutenant Gonzalo Bustamante, to open fire.

The Anti-Aircraft Artillery Regiment at Camet became a target of naval fire. (Image: Mar del Plata's newpaper "La Capital", Family Album http://www.lacapitalmdp.com/contenidos/fotosfamilia/fotos/8054)


Submarine ARA "Santiago del Estero" (S-2) (Image: Fundación Histarmar Historia y Arqueología Marítima)


Destroyer "Juan de Garay" (Image: Fundación Histarmar Historia y Arqueología Marítima)

Guided from the ground by Lieutenant Jorge A. Fraga, the Buenos Aires fired its first shot, which overshot the target. The shell flew over the cemetery and struck Juan B. Justo Avenue (in front of a fishing shop), causing significant damage to nearby buildings. Fraga instructed the gunners to lower the barrels by 500 millimeters, and the second salvo hit one of the artillery pieces threatening the Naval Base from the heights of the golf course. The spotter (Lieutenant Fraga) radioed that the shells had found their target. Encouraged by this success, he ordered the guns to be lowered further for a new volley, which devastated the positions along the bluffs of the golf course, firing intermittently every 10 seconds.

Soldiers and militia members fled in disarray, leaving behind several dead and wounded. The only ones who remained steadfast were the CGT militiamen, who once again showed they were willing to fight to the end. Meanwhile, revolution supporters on Playa Grande waved flags and cheered for the Navy and the nation, unaware of the danger they were in.

Behind the Buenos Aires came the Entre Ríos and San Luis, both sailing in line and firing upon the Peronist positions. Despite the naval bombardment, loyalist Army troops and armed union members continued to fire upon the base installations, even after the shelling ended at 09:30.

A chaotic retreat ensued, as officers and personnel from the Naval Base rushed towards the boats and launches moored at the docks, as well as three fishing vessels that Captain Panzeri had brought in for evacuation. Some sailors threw their weapons into the water to prevent them from falling into enemy hands, while most boarded the boats and set off, coming under fire from Peronist forces on the shore. A firefight broke out between those aboard the boats and those on land, lasting for several minutes.

During the engagement, several boats being towed by launches had their lines cut, leaving them adrift and vulnerable to both gunfire and the rough seas. Amid the chaos, a technical officer, following Captain Peralta’s orders, raised a white flag of surrender, and the exchange of fire began to subside. Minutes later, the Uruguayan consul in Mar del Plata, who had been summoned, sent a message to the Fleet via the Naval Base, informing them that the city had capitulated. There was jubilation on board the ships, and Captain De Marotte took the opportunity to address the crew over the loudspeakers.

The commander congratulated the crew on their success, attributing it to their dedication and enthusiasm in fulfilling their duties, and urged them to continue the fight until final victory. The Navy had suffered no casualties, except for the mutinous petty officer killed earlier, though the Army had, as a shell from the 9 de Julio had destroyed the artillery piece on the golf course mentioned earlier.

The commander of the Destroyer Squadron, Captain Luis Mallea, remained wary of the loyalist forces' surrender. He summoned the commanders of the Anti-Aircraft Artillery Regiment at Camet and the Aeronautics Detachment, warning them that if they did not comply, he would open fire on their installations, in line with Admiral Rojas' instructions from the previous day.

While awaiting their response, Mallea ordered a Marine platoon, under the command of Commander Carlos López, to land and secure the Submarine Base to reinforce its defenses. To support the operation, the Buenos Aires slowly entered the port, heading toward the submarine docks, while civilians loyal to the revolution waved flags and cheered from the shore despite the heavy rain.

In the northern sector, off the coast of Camet, the destroyers Entre Ríos and San Luis, along with the corvette República, prepared for action as the summoned Army commanders remained silent, and rumors circulated that the feared Tandil Artillery Regiment was advancing toward the city.

At 11:00 on that tense September 19, the Navy ships took up positions and opened fire from 6,000 meters away, launching 175 shells that destroyed the regiment's installations, including the water tank supporting the radar antenna. Several buildings were set ablaze, but fortunately, there were no casualties, as the troops had been evacuated to the nearby town of Cobo less than an hour before, leaving the facilities empty.

The attack ended at 11:30, and the ships headed toward the port, led by the San Luis, sailing under a leaden sky and over choppy waters. As they approached the port, they encountered Peronist civilians who had arrived in several trucks and launched an attack on the base.

A violent firefight erupted, which ended when, near Playa Grande, the destroyers fired their 40mm Bofors guns, supported by naval personnel onshore using repeating rifles. The civilians, heavily harassed, withdrew in different directions, dragging some of their wounded with them.

The destroyers requested reinforcements from the 9 de Julio to bolster the positions defending the base. The commander relayed the request to Admiral Rojas, who authorized it, adding that once the operation was complete and calm had been restored, the fleet should head north to rejoin the main units in the Río de la Plata [3].

With the San Luis stationed off Playa Grande and the Buenos Aires patrolling the port’s approaches, the 9 de Julio drew closer to the coast, as sporadic gunfire continued to echo. Two of the requisitioned fishing vessels approached the cruiser on the port side to receive a company of Marines, consisting of five officers and 120 men, who were immediately transported ashore to secure the base and surrounding areas.

After the Peronist militias were subdued and repelled, Mar del Plata was secured without further complications. An hour later, the four destroyers and the 9 de Julio set course north to rejoin the Sea Fleet, which was poised to engage La Plata and even Buenos Aires itself.

By that time, at the mouth of the great estuary, Admiral Rojas, General Uranga, and their staff transferred to La Argentina, anchored at the Recalada pontoon off Punta Indio. The flagship, the 17 de Octubre, had been dispatched to lead Task Force No. 7, which was tasked with attacking the Dock Sud refineries. Despite the low clouds, rain, and strong winds making operations difficult, the fleet command feared that the Air Force would launch harassment raids from Morón at any moment, so it was imperative to begin the operation as soon as possible.

In a torrential downpour, amid thunder, lightning, and rough waters stirred by the strong late-winter winds, Task Force No. 7 set course for its target, with precise orders to commence operations at 13:00 sharp.

At 11:26, Commander Carlos Sánchez Sañudo sent a message to the loyalist authorities, urging the government to warn the population via the official radio stations that the attack was imminent and that precautions should be taken to protect them. He added that any official who failed to comply with this directive would be judged as a war criminal at the end of the conflict.

As Ruiz Moreno recounts, the Naval Operations Command on land acknowledged receipt of the message, but the government radio stations remained completely silent.

Puerto Belgrano. Communications Echelon (Phots: Miguel Ángel Cavallo: Puerto Belgrano. Hora Cero. La Marina se subleva)


Command Central . Puerto Belgrano (Photos: Miguel Ángel Cavallo: Puerto Belgrano. Hora Cero. La Marina se subleva)


Radar Control. Base Naval Puerto Belgrano (Photos: Miguel Ángel Cavallo: Puerto Belgrano. Hora Cero. La Marina se subleva)


Cruiser "17 de Octubre", (then renamed "General Belgrano"), Admiral Rojas's leading ship (Image: Fundación Histarmar Historia y Arqueología Marítima)


The cruiser "9 de Julio" leaves Puerto Belgrano (Image: Fundación Histarmar Historia y Arqueología Marítima)


Cruiser"9 de Julio", "17 de Octubre"-twin sailing towar open waters (Image: Fundación Histarmar Historia y Arqueología Marítima)

"17 de Octubre" Machine Room (Image: Fundación Histarmar Historia y Arqueología Marítima)


Comercio del barrio portuario en Mar del Plata alcanzado por un proyectil naval (Imágen: Nair Miño, Diario "La Capital" de Mar del Plata, Álbum de Familia [http://www.lacapitalmdp.com/contenidos/fotosfamilia/fotos/8054])

Notes

1. The vice admiral considered it a humiliation that the flag was flying on the mast of a rebel ship.
2. Jorge E. Perren, Puesto Belgrano y la Revolución Libertadora, p. 197.
3. That was the moment when the infantry forces disembarked.

1955 Guerra Civil. La Revolucion Libertadora y la caída de Perón