Showing posts with label Argentine Army. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Argentine Army. Show all posts

Saturday, December 20, 2025

Malvinas: Ambush of a Harrier


Ambush of a Harrier


The 20th of May did not bring any major change. The soaked Commandos gathered up their disordered and even damaged kit to load it into the helicopters, where at least the pilots and ground crew had been spared the full force of the elements. But this difference in comfort was accepted by all, since it was in the troops’ interest that the pilots should remain as clear-headed as possible. They were on the slopes of Mount Rosalía. Only at about ten in the morning did things improve a little and, despite the risk of colliding with some rise in the ground, the helicopters took off; after fifteen minutes of flying practically blind, they had to set down again. A new opportunity around midday took them to an abandoned little house to the south — Rosalie House — where they landed with all the security measures appropriate to the warning that had brought them there. At about two in the afternoon the weather cleared, and half an hour later they finally arrived at Port Howard, thirty kilometres away. The operation was carried out late in relation to the original warning about the possible presence of the enemy, based on signals detected four days earlier. Even so, Major Castagneto detached two Puma helicopters — each carrying a section — to reconnoitre to the north and north-west of Howard, to a depth of fifteen kilometres, which produced no visible results. Nor was it the first time the Commandos had been used, as they said, “to chase sheep”…

There was little daylight left, and 601 Commando Company prepared to spend the night in the settlement, which was occupied by 5th Infantry Regiment. At that point Major Yanzi, in charge of the four helicopters, decided to return to refuel. Castagneto had argued, in front of General Parada, commander of 3rd Brigade, and Lieutenant Colonel Reveand, commander of the Helicopter Company, that those aircraft had to remain with the Commandos and must not deprive them of mobility. Castagneto and Reveand became embroiled in a heated argument: the helicopter commander cited the risks, and the Commando commander replied that in war everything was risky, and that even a shoot-down was compatible with the missions they were carrying out:

“Much more than the dollars a helicopter may be worth, the life of one of my Commandos is worth, and he may need that aircraft!” exclaimed an enraged Castagneto.

But no reasoning could change Lieutenant Colonel Reveand’s stance, and Major Yanzi set off back to the capital, leaving the Company isolated at Howard, completely cut off from the likely British landing areas on Gran Malvina Islando (East Falkland). That night the forty men bivouacked in a shearing shed near the rudimentary jetty, where part of a section of Engineers was also billeted. There they endured the rigours of atrocious cold, made worse by a constant wind that intensified it, and by the damp that seeped up through the gaps in the floorboards.

At first light on Friday 21st, Captain Frecha went to identify the dominant points from which to establish the anti-aircraft ambush, which was set up near the command post of 5th Regiment, in the centre of the settlement, practically along a fence that divided two fields. At Port Howard the regiment’s only anti-aircraft defence consisted of .50 calibre (12.7 mm) machine guns, with limited effective range: eight hundred metres at most. The Blowpipe missiles, by contrast, were effective out to three thousand metres. Although that Infantry Regiment was deployed there with two sections from 3rd Engineer Company and elements of 3rd Signals Company, up to that point Howard had lived a life similar — as Castagneto put it — to that of “a quiet summer afternoon in some Argentine province”.

Further south, at the mouth of Malvinas Strait (Falkland Sound), 8th Infantry Regiment with 9th Engineer Company was encamped at Fox Bay. The Commandos’ anti-aircraft group took up position one hundred and fifty metres from the water, near where A Company was located, in the following order: Captain Ricardo Frecha towards the bay area, near a peat store; then First Lieutenant Sergio Fernández; and then Corporal Jorge Martínez as aiming unit no. 3, each one separated by twenty metres. Fernández remained unhappy in that team because, as the commander of an assault section and eager to lead it in war, he had had to give up that role in the interests of the whole. He felt frustrated in the ambition of his entire life: he was a mere aimer, performing a task that, in his view, could have been carried out by a non-commissioned officer…

But the role of the man in charge of a surface-to-air missile is not as subordinate as this officer, in his state of mind, made it out to be. First, the aimer must place himself along the likely line of flight the aircraft will take, given the characteristics of the terrain; and secondly he must stand fully exposed, without any protection, in order to fire as nearly head-on as possible, since, owing to the aircraft’s speed, the missile is hard to guide effectively if it passes across the front: beyond three thousand metres it becomes uncontrollable.

With the sun up, at about quarter past eight, the sound of helicopter rotors began to be heard. At first the Commandos thought they were friendly, because they were coming from the direction of Darwin–Goose Green; but shortly afterwards they spotted, far off over the Sound, an aircraft that was clearly overflying the area on a reconnaissance mission, which Argentine helicopters did not do, as they took the most direct route. Half an hour later it approached Shag Cove — a nearby inlet — and any doubts were dispelled: it was an armed British Lynx. It remained there for quite some time and then left relatively close by, at about four kilometres, but beyond the range of ground fire.

The Company commander went to the central communications post to establish contact with Port Stanley and find out whether the aircraft would be hunted. The sound of jet engines was then heard. It could only be an enemy aircraft, and First Lieutenant Fernández thought immediately: “We are going into action.” He looked at his watch: it was five minutes to ten. They quickly took up their firing positions, aiming to the south-east towards the far end of the bay (four kilometres away), from an excellent location with a wide field of fire. As it came into clearer view, all doubt vanished: it was the unmistakable silhouette of a Harrier, with its two wide air intakes and swept wings. It was approaching on a slightly oblique course, possibly to observe the coast better, and when it was three thousand metres away, Frecha and Fernández opened fire. The two missiles shot off in parallel, simultaneously, towards the target.

The aircraft was flying low over the water, twenty metres above the surface, when it suddenly banked to its right, towards the opposite shore closing the bay. The pilot had seen the attack and was manoeuvring evasively, and it looked as though he were about to smash into the heights on the far side of the bay. But after some three hundred metres on that heading, and without reducing speed, he changed course and flew at low altitude over Howard. The incredible manoeuvrability of the aircraft meant that the two missiles exploded along the strip of shore running beside the Sound. As it flew over the settlement, the men of 5th Regiment, taken by surprise, did not manage to fire at it, and the aircraft disappeared behind the hills inland.

The three men handling the missiles were relatively close to one another so they could communicate without radios, as both their hands were occupied. Close by stood Major Mario Castagneto, who had come to join them, also in the open. “Those were moments when you had to set an example,” he explained to me. Four or five minutes later, a second Harrier appeared from the same direction as its partner. As everyone was now on full alert, it was observed more carefully. Its approach seemed endless to the anti-aircraft team tracking it through their sights. They tried to ensure an accurate shot by letting it come closer, since the further away it was, the more chance it had to evade the missiles. They felt the twenty-one kilos’ weight of the Blowpipes, which had now been reloaded.

The aircraft was coming in more head-on than the previous one, flying low, at around seven hundred and fifty kilometres per hour, enough to allow it to manoeuvre comfortably around the hills. Despite the aimers’ composure, through the sight it looked enormous, very close. When the Harrier began to turn side-on, at a thousand metres, Frecha and Fernández fired their missiles almost diagonally. A moment later and the shot would have been inaccurate. Because of a technical fault in his missile — which veered out of control towards some houses — Captain Frecha had to bring it down, and it fell some twenty-five metres away (it later had to be blown up). Corporal Martínez had not fired. But First Lieutenant Sergio Fernández had, and an explosion briefly hid the enemy aircraft from sight.

“I have that instant image seared into my mind,” recalls Fernández, “the explosion and the nose of the aircraft emerging from it.” Once the guidance phase of the missile was over, he lowered the weapon to see the whole picture and assess the effect of his shot. Disappointed, he saw that the Harrier was still flying, “and it had not disintegrated in the air like confetti”. But it began to trail smoke, to roll, and a fraction of a second later its pilot ejected and his orange-and-white parachute opened. The fighter-bomber continued on its path and then crashed a short distance away, at the bottom of the bay.

Everyone’s excitement was intense: now the infantry had gone into action for the first time, because they were forewarned, and their conduct had been outstanding, given that they were raw conscripts. They fired at the aircraft with every weapon they had, even pistols. The noise of rifle fire was impressive, though of limited effect, with their commander, Colonel Mabragaña, setting the example by firing his FAL standing fully exposed. Shouts of triumph, the characteristic correntino sapucai cries, filled the air, sharply contrasting with the tears of the kelper children, the hysterical outbursts of their mothers and the nervous crises of their fathers, who came out of the houses in which they had taken refuge when the aircraft activity began. Shots were still being fired, because the soldiers, who had fired at the already damaged Harrier, now continued to shoot at the figure of its pilot…

Without losing a second, Major Castagneto and the medical officer, Captain Llanos, jumped on two motorbikes and headed towards the bay where the airman was floating. Officers, NCOs and soldiers ran after them, some shouting as they went for the firing to stop:

“Cease fire! Cease fire! You’re going to hit the pilot!”

Fortunately, the euphoria, the distance and the movement combined to prevent them from hitting him. But the freezing water is merciless, and when Doctor Llanos arrived first by motorbike near the bay and saw the British airman a hundred metres away, he had no option but to watch him, unable to swim out to him in those conditions.

Castagneto had branched off as they left the settlement, heading towards where the aircraft had crashed. At that moment the doctor spotted a boat, and an NCO from 5th Regiment who had reached the shore told him:

“I’ll go and get him!”

Helped by another comrade, the corporal rowed out to the downed pilot and between them managed to haul him aboard. When they reached the shore, several officers from the Commando Company — Llanos, Fernández, García Pinasco, Anadón — dragged him onto the beach along with his parachute and survival gear. The pilot had injuries to his face and a fractured left collarbone, as a result of his violent ejection from an aircraft travelling at full speed and banked over, which had caused him to slam into the side of the cockpit as he came out; he did not even have his helmet, which had shattered on impact. Although he was wearing a flying overall that gave him some protection from the water, he was almost frozen and struggled to speak; but at no point did he lose consciousness, to the extent that Sergio Fernández noticed that, as he sat up to get out of the boat, the pilot rubbed the transparent kneeboard on his right thigh — where aviators make their notes — with his hand, in order to erase the course written there. The Argentine officer managed to memorise the double group of numbers and letters and later reproduced them to report to Port Stanley.

Llanos, with his perfect command of English, identified himself as a doctor and, after asking about his injuries, he and Fernández tried to calm the prisoner:

“Are you okay, are you hurt? Don’t worry, we are friends now; take it easy.”

The pilot, without speaking, nodded with movements of his head. With the help of Staff Sergeant Poggi, they settled him on Llanos’s motorbike, and the doctor told him to hold on to him because he was going to take him to a hospital. Using the international sign used by aviators — thumb raised — the pilot indicated his agreement. First Lieutenant Fernández wrapped him in his jacket and they set off.

Meanwhile, Major Castagneto had headed towards the place where the Harrier had come down, some ten kilometres from Howard. He rode parallel to the narrowing bay, then crossed the river — “those bikes would do anything,” he told me — and, after a further stretch, reached the crash site half an hour later. “The largest piece I found was the wheel,” he said. “I even came to think it might be the remains of an aircraft from another era…”

In its final run, as it broke up against the ground, the aircraft had hit a horse, cleanly severing its neck so that the head lay a good distance from the body. Castagneto loaded all the pieces he could carry, which he thought might be important for intelligence analysis — including the communications equipment — and set off back. It was near midday, and the naval–air battle in San Carlos had already taken place.

Wednesday, December 17, 2025

Memories from an Intelligence Officer in Malvinas

 

 

Memories from My First Days in Malvinas

Account by First Lieutenant Echeverría – Intelligence Officer, RI-4

After the fall of Darwin — though I can't recall the exact date — a series of reports came in warning us about the British positions. They were advancing roughly twenty kilometres from our location. Between us and them, although we had some of our own troops, they were small groups, whose main task was to raise the alarm and report movements.

We had a number of experiences ourselves — like finding traces of British commando patrols very close to us. Direct contact didn’t happen simply because we never came face-to-face with them, but we did come across remains that clearly showed they’d passed through.

We already knew they were there, and like us, they were deploying people to gather intelligence. These patrols continued for a while without actual clashes, and we still hadn’t felt their artillery — except for the naval guns that fired at night, or during the day when there was heavy fog.

That’s when the anti-radar and anti-radio missiles began to appear — and hit us. At the same time, we started facing limitations in using our radar and radio systems. The interference was heavy, and the British even insulted us over the airwaves. They had tools and technologies we simply didn’t. Still, we didn’t believe they would beat us. We told ourselves: “They won’t be able to defeat us.” Among those I spoke to, the general feeling was: we had to fight with whatever we had — even stones if it came to that. Our weapons weren’t bad, but they required more careful handling than on the mainland, mainly due to the extreme humidity.

The cold changed everything, just like what happens to a car. It's not the same as having one in Buenos Aires compared to parking it in Ushuaia.

At Mount Kent, a small unit had to retreat with the British literally on their heels. They reached us with the enemy right behind. Our troops were going along one side of the hill, while the British were climbing up the other. That unit didn’t have enough manpower or weapons to hold off a serious attack.

By then, our own commandos had already engaged with the British on multiple occasions, but luckily many were recovered — wounded, yes, but alive.

Harriers came and went, mostly over Puerto Argentino, and the ships kept firing at us at night. As I said, we also found remnants of British commandos operating very close to our positions. That was the situation. We had already lost helicopters, which reduced our mobility, and also ships like the Carcarañá, the Isla de los Estados, and a Coast Guard vessel. Our commandos, operating deep behind enemy lines, told us about extensive British helicopter traffic. We could already hear them nearby on calm, dark nights.

One evening around eight o'clock, our commander returned from a command meeting in town and updated us on the situation. All options were considered, and there was no choice but to fight while retreating — or risk getting caught mid-manoeuvre. The plan was to regroup and make a stand at Mounts Dos Hermanas and Harriet.

We already had small detachments at Harriet. Think of it like using your hands to protect your body — we were the “hands” of Puerto Argentino. And when one of those hands starts to feel the heat, that’s where you focus your defences. Don’t overreact, but observe, and try to understand why the enemy is moving in that direction.

It was decided to change front and redeploy to Dos Hermanas and Harriet, where the regiment would hold its ground. The withdrawal had to be swift — lightning fast. A decision was made about what equipment to leave behind, and the rest — weapons, ammunition, medical supplies, all vital gear — had to be moved. We were assigned three helicopters for the operation. The idea was to move everything possible at night, gather heavy equipment in specific spots, and if the helicopters couldn’t carry it, to bring it down to where three lorries were waiting — and then transport the troops.

But just after 10 p.m., the ships started firing again, and on top of that, it began to snow. It was chaos. We had to suspend the descent from the hills for two valuable hours — it was dark, snowing, and under naval fire.

Fortunately, the ships shifted fire to another sector, the snow stopped, and a thick layer settled. Around three or four in the morning — keeping in mind that darkness lasts until eight — we resumed the descent. At first light, troops were loading lorries or moving on foot. Others were loading the helicopters. A small anti-air unit stayed behind to cover the operation.

The Harriers arrived just after the helicopters had departed — luckily — but they did strike our marching columns: troops moving along a road, lorries gathered in a clearly visible and exposed area. From our hilltop position, waiting for the helicopters, we opened fire on the Harriers with tracer rounds. I don’t know if we managed to bring one down, but we hit them repeatedly. Still, we never saw one fall.

The British planes flew over daily, at all hours. They photographed us — we even made faces at them. That’s the truth. They attacked with mixed results, mainly damaging storage areas and equipment. Some of our lorries were destroyed, and although we started taking casualties, at that point they were still light — mostly wounded.

Back to the Harrier attack I was mentioning — we had to suspend helicopter use, and the troops kept retreating — even if it meant crawling through the rocks. The whole withdrawal was extremely tough — like being caught at home in your pyjamas.

That same morning, while the Harriers were still attacking, a lone commando arrived from enemy territory — the only one left from his patrol. He gave us a clearer picture of where the enemy was and what movements they had made. He came back completely shattered, desperate to explain what he had seen. The rest of his patrol was still out there, ahead of our lines. In time, it was confirmed that some of those brave commandos had been killed, and others made it back, wounded, to our positions.

Thursday, December 11, 2025

Argentina: The Rise of the Peronist Guerrilla

Genesis and Evolution of the Revolutionary Process in Argentina


  

Preliminary Considerations

Several articles have been written about the genesis and evolution of the Revolutionary War in our country, and it would seem redundant to revisit them, given that they all generally mention the same sequence of causes and effects. However, it is never superfluous, as it will always be possible to incorporate new information into what is already known regarding dates, organizations, events, people involved, etc.

Some define the stages of the revolutionary process within the political timeframes of the governments that emerged from electoral processes or military coups; others analyze the process marked by the attitudes and events generated by subversive organizations, or by the outcome achieved by the regular forces that confronted them. Personally, I believe, as have several others, that the analysis to determine the stages should be based on those episodes or events that represent a change or a significant situation between what has occurred and its continuation with the new events that are unfolding. The work to be developed here aims to fall within this framework.


OUTLINE
1. Introduction
2. Origins of the Guerrilla Movement (1955-1965)
3. Creation and Development of the Revolutionary Armed Organizations (1965-1970)
-Revolutionary Workers' Party-People's Revolutionary Army (PRT-ERP)
-Revolutionary Armed Forces (FAR)
-Peronist Armed Forces (FAP)
-Armed Forces of Liberation (FAL)
-Montoneros (currently in government)
4. Evolution of the Revolutionary Process – Periods of the War
a. First period (1970 – May 1973)
b. Second period (May 25, 1973 – end of 1974)
c. Third period (1975-1978) d. Fourth period (1978-80).
e. Last period (1980-88).
f. Current situation.

Development


1. Introduction
The Argentine Republic was the theatre of a revolutionary war (RW) that began to take shape in 1956, showed its first signs of guerrilla activity in 1959, escalated in 1970, and reached its peak intensity between 1973 and 1976.

Signs of a military defeat could be seen before May 1973. However, political and legal circumstances turned the successes achieved—through the application of precise and specific justice—into failure, as the relevant legislation was repealed. Revolutionary activity then re-emerged with greater force. Despite this, its annihilation was completed by 1980. However, the military success was not matched politically, and developments in that sphere extended until 1988, persisting in distorted forms to this day.

The objective of this revolutionary process was to seize state power in order to impose a political, economic, and social system—and indeed an entire way of life—that was foreign to our traditions, alien in nature, and opposed to our national values. Fortunately, this ideology ultimately garnered support from only a small minority of the population. Amid a fratricidal conflict, Argentina was able to escape that situation, though to this day, true pacification has not been achieved.

This revolutionary process was not born in Argentina. It was imported, infiltrated, adopted, and developed in the context of a world shaken by ideological movements first proclaimed by Marx and Engels, and later expanded in the 20th century by Lenin, Mao Tse-tung, and other communist theorists who aimed to establish a proletarian world through unlimited violence, national liberation movements, and the unified action of communist countries. These aims constituted the true objectives of the global revolution of that time—a revolution from which Argentina could not escape, due to the actions of both domestic ideologues and others known as “useful idiots.” These actors formed various revolutionary organisations, which will be discussed later, and took part in waging the war on the internal front.

These organisations had complex and clandestine structures, based primarily on a political apparatus for leadership, propaganda, and indoctrination, and an armed-military apparatus responsible for overtly violent, terrorist, and revolutionary actions, forming a true irregular army.

In response to these realities, it became necessary to deploy the armed forces and security services to confront these political and military organisations—this being the only way to prevent them from seizing power, which they could not achieve through legal or democratic means due to their lack of representation.

This course of action was not aimed at achieving a social goal, but rather a political-ideological-revolutionary one—namely, the seizure of power—regardless of the means or methods used, in accordance with their own revolutionary philosophy.

2. Origins of the Guerrilla (1955–1965)

Revolutionary war in Argentina had its genesis immediately after the fall of Perón. Beginning in September 1955, a group of activists known as the "Peronist Resistance", organised and led by John William Cooke—originally a nationalist, later turned Marxist-Leninist—carried out numerous acts of terrorism during the governments of the “Revolución Libertadora”, President Arturo Frondizi, and President Arturo Illia.

In 1959, in the province of Tucumán, several individuals were arrested while operating in the hills, attempting to launch “rural guerrilla” actions. This marked the emergence of a Peronist-aligned guerrilla group called the "Union of Andean Guerrillas", led by a former military officer named Ciro Ahumada. Another similar group, known as the “Uturuncos” (Tigers of the Sierra), operated under the command “17 de Octubre” and its “National Liberation Army”. Lacking support, these groups eventually dissolved but served as precursors to future organisations.

With Fidel Castro’s rise to global prominence, revolutionary momentum spread through Latin America, prompting agitation and violence in Argentina. In 1961, a revolutionary apparatus began forming in Santiago del Estero through the “Popular Indo-American Revolutionary Front” (FRIP), which later became a foundation for the Revolutionary Workers' Party (PRT), based on Trotskyist factions.

Che Guevara’s presence in Bolivia extended the revolutionary process in Latin America. In Orán, Salta, reports from locals and attacks against national gendarmerie personnel led to the discovery of an armed group equipped with automatic weapons, anti-tank weaponry, and explosives. In an abandoned camp, a "war diary" was found, in which guerrilla fighter Hermes Peña Torres (killed in a clash with the gendarmerie) described in detail the ambush of security forces—Orán Squadron—and the execution of two of their own members for violations of internal revolutionary discipline.

In 1964, another guerrilla camp was uncovered in Icho Cruz, Córdoba, named “Camilo Cienfuegos”. It was composed of seven young men with various weapons and explosives. The group, communist in orientation, was led by Juan Enrique Saleme, who had been trained in Cuba.

This period also saw numerous attacks and murders, such as:

  • The attack on Captain Cabrera’s home, resulting in the death of his daughter and serious injury to one of his sons.

  • The armed robbery of the banking polyclinic in Buenos Aires.

  • The bombing of Shell Mex in Córdoba, which killed thirteen workers and injured several others.

  • The discovery on 24 February 1964 of a new guerrilla camp in La Toma, Salta, operated by members of the “People’s Revolutionary Army” (ERP), aligned with Castroist-communist ideology.

  • A major explosion in July 1964 on Posadas Street, Buenos Aires, where a guerrilla was killed while handling explosives. A terrorist cell was discovered, and documents revealed both past actions and planned operations.

These events—and many more—marked the first expressions of armed guerrilla warfare and laid the groundwork for what, in the 1970s, became the revolutionary war in Argentina. During this period, revolutionary organisations carried out more than 1,500 attacks. As a result, President Frondizi implemented the “Conintes Plan” (Internal Commotion), under which the armed forces were tasked—by executive order—with taking direct control of counter-terrorism efforts.

3. Creation and Development of Armed Revolutionary Organisations (1965–1970)

Between 3 and 13 August 1966, a meeting was held in Cuba named the “Tricontinental Conference of Havana”, attended by representatives of revolutionary movements and radical groups from Latin America, Asia, and Africa. At its conclusion, Latin American delegates met separately and, on 31 July 1967, established the “Latin American Solidarity Organisation” (OLAS), with the following main objectives:

  • To promote armed revolutionary struggle in Latin America

  • To coordinate strategy among revolutionary movements

  • To foster solidarity among the peoples of the Americas, defending the Cuban revolution and similar movements across the region

As a result, clandestine armed organisations began forming across Latin America, including preparations for guerrilla warfare in Bolivia, led by Che Guevara and involving both foreign and local fighters.

To meet these goals, OLAS mandated the creation of a military apparatus in each country. In Argentina, the “National Liberation Army” (ELN) was established with the mission of operating in the north to support Che’s campaign in Bolivia. It was divided into three politically independent sectors—1, 2, and 8—which initially engaged in urban guerrilla actions.

With Che Guevara’s death in 1967 and Inti Peredo’s in 1969, guerrilla activity in Bolivia came to an end. The ELN was dissolved, and its three sectors returned to their respective organisations:

  • Sector 1 joined the Revolutionary Workers’ Party (PRT), which, in addition to terrorism, promoted classist activity in factory unions such as SITRAM and SITRAC.

  • Sector 2 formed the Armed Revolutionary Forces (FAR).

  • Sector 8 split into two: one faction created the Montoneros trade union organisation via the group “Christianity and Revolution”; the rest joined the Peronist Armed Forces (FAP).

Meanwhile, a split in the Communist Party in 1967 gave rise to the Revolutionary Communist Party (PCR), whose armed wing became the Argentine Liberation Forces (FAL).

Within the PRT, two distinct factions emerged:

  • El Combatiente, supporting armed struggle

  • La Verdad, favouring a political solution

At its 5th Congress in 1970, the El Combatiente line prevailed, resulting in the formation of the armed wing: the People’s Revolutionary Army (ERP).

In 1973, the original Montoneros group and the FAR merged into a new organisation retaining the name Montoneros, chosen for its nationalistic appeal to the Peronist base.

4. Evolution of the Revolutionary Process – War Periods

a) First Period (1970 – May 1973)
The year 1970 clearly marked the beginning of a widespread and coordinated assault on the country’s institutions, social groups, and through specific acts of systematic and selective violence.

The three most powerful organisations emerged publicly, each committing major crimes:

  • Montoneros: Kidnapped, tortured, and murdered former President General Pedro E. Aramburu on Army Day, 29 May 1970.

  • FAR: Took over the town of Garín, Buenos Aires Province, on 30 July 1970.

  • ERP: Raided Police Station No. 24 in Rosario, Santa Fe Province, killing two officers in September 1970.

During this period, the ERP’s terrorist activities were largely conducted by smaller cells focused on propaganda, recruitment, training, and strengthening logistical capacity.

Montoneros and FAR were meanwhile in talks to merge, aiming to infiltrate the political base loyal to Peronism and planning long-term strategies. Both were responsible for high-impact terrorist operations such as:

  • The armed takeover of La Calera on 1 July 1970

  • The attack, weapons theft (70 FAL rifles), and murder of Lieutenant Asúa in Pilar, Buenos Aires Province, on 29 April 1970

  • The kidnapping and murder of FIAT Argentina president Oberdán Sallustro in Buenos Aires on 21 March 1972

  • The ambush and assassination of the deputy commander of the army, General Juan Carlos Sánchez, on 10 April 1972

  • The armed assault and theft of military materials from Communications Battalion 141 in Córdoba Province on 19 February 1973


 

From the perspective of the actions taken by the legal forces and the government, this period was highly significant, as it saw the drafting and implementation of special criminal legislation tailored to this type of activity. Through the work of the National Federal Criminal Court, the main leaders of terrorist organisations, along with nearly all subversive elements, were identified and prosecuted. This resulted in the imprisonment of six hundred terrorists and criminals, and the initiation of legal proceedings against more than one thousand individuals for similar offences. This could have marked the beginning of the end of the armed struggle.

However, that was not the case, as with the arrival of the constitutional government of Dr Cámpora, all these legal measures were repealed.

It is also worth noting that during this period, the fight against armed criminal activity was primarily carried out by police forces, with the support of certain elements from the security services.

b) Second period (25 May 1973 – late 1974)

On 25 May 1973, Dr Cámpora assumed the constitutional presidency and repealed the existing anti-subversive legislation, declaring a total amnesty for all individuals imprisoned for "political reasons".

This period was marked by intense urban guerrilla activity, including numerous attacks, assassinations, and takeovers of towns, largely carried out by the many criminals who had been released from prison. In addition, subversive infiltration penetrated most levels of the state, as well as various social sectors and organisations (including trade unions, student groups, and other intermediary bodies).

Cámpora’s resignation, the elections of 12 September, and the subsequent presidency of General Perón marked a turning point in the relationship between the ruling party—the Justicialist Party—and the subversive organisations. These groups found their political paths blocked and intensified their armed actions, returning to clandestine operations.

The actions carried out during this period reached such a level of magnitude and aggression that they seriously disrupted social order and shocked the population. 

Among the most significant events during this period were:

  • The assassination of the Secretary-General of the CGT, José Ignacio Rucci, on 25 September 1973.

  • The armed assault on the 10th Cavalry Regiment and the 1st Armoured Artillery Group in Azul, Buenos Aires Province. This involved the murder of Colonel Camilo Gay, his wife, and a soldier, as well as the kidnapping of Lieutenant Colonel Jorge Ibarzábal, who was later killed after a prolonged captivity (19 January 1974).

  • The assassination of Federal Judge Jorge Quiroga—formerly a judge on the National Federal Criminal Court who had presided over trials of subversives—on 27 April 1973.

  • The assassination of former Minister of the Interior, Dr Arturo Mor Roig, on 15 July 1974.

  • The armed takeover, theft of weapons, kidnapping, and subsequent murder of Major Argentino del Valle Larrabure, at the Military Gunpowder and Explosives Factory in Villa María, Córdoba, on 12 August 1974.

  • The kidnapping and extortion of Juan and Jorge Born, executives of the Bunge & Born company, who were released following the payment of a $60 million ransom, on 19 September 1974.

  • The murderous attack on the Chief of the Federal Police, Commissioner General Alberto Villar, and his wife, in Tigre, on 1 November 1974.

 

At the same time, in Tucumán, the reconnaissance of the south-western area was completed in preparation for launching a rural guerrilla campaign. The ultimate goal was to declare the province—and its surrounding area—a “liberated zone”, which could potentially lead to international recognition. Beginning on 30 May 1974, with the takeover of the town of Acheral by the ERP company “Ramón Rosa Giménez”, the ERP began its open operations in Tucumán.

c) Third period (1975–1978)

On 9 February 1975, the Army launched “Operation Independence”, with the mission of neutralising and/or annihilating rural subversive activity in Tucumán. This was carried out under Presidential Decree 261/75, and the mission was accomplished after just over a year and a half.

On 23 December 1975, the ERP’s Ramón Rosa Giménez Company attempted to seize Arsenal Battalion 601 in Monte Chingolo. This operation, the most ambitious ever undertaken by the urban guerrilla movement, ended in defeat for the insurgents. It marked a serious blow to the PRT-ERP, leading to the beginning of the dissolution of that company.

The year 1975 represented the peak of revolutionary activity, with significant material and financial resources—largely obtained through foreign support, ransom payments, and robberies carried out within the country. Social unrest deepened as the population faced growing insecurity due to a wave of indiscriminate attacks.

Following the military’s assumption of power, the Armed Forces, Security Forces, and Police Forces intensified counter-revolutionary actions to restore order and bring about the definitive defeat of the irregular forces.

Among the most significant events during this period were:

  • Attack on a C-130 Hercules aircraft in Tucumán, on 28 August 1975.

  • Assault, killings, and theft of weapons from Infantry Regiment 29.

  • Bombing of the Federal Security Superintendency in Buenos Aires on 2 July 1976, resulting in 22 deaths and 60 injuries.

  • Bomb attack at the Military Circle cinema on 17 October 1976, injuring 50 people.

  • Explosion at the Undersecretariat of Planning of the Ministry of Defence on 15 December 1976, which left 14 dead and several injured.


 

The actions of the regular forces in control, intelligence gathering, identification, and prevention led to a decline in revolutionary activity. By late 1976 and throughout 1977, the terrorist organisations began to disintegrate—initially the PRT-ERP, and later the Montoneros. The leaders of these organisations either fled abroad, were killed in open combat with legal forces (as was the case with Mario Roberto Santucho, head of the ERP, in July 1976), or committed suicide to avoid capture.

d) Fourth period (1978–1980)

In 1978, the main focus of the Montoneros was to interfere with preparations for and the hosting of the FIFA World Cup, through an intensive campaign carried out in Western Europe aimed at discrediting Argentina and deterring tourism.

At the same time, the PRT-ERP formed the so-called "ERP Support Command", which re-entered the country to carry out acts of sabotage. However, it was completely neutralised.

That same year, the Montoneros also began preparing what they called the “Counteroffensive Maneuver”. Between January and April 1979, specialised groups arrived clandestinely in Argentina to conduct shock operations, agitation, and propaganda. These groups, known as TEA and TEI, were responsible for three major attacks:
  • The attack and destruction of the home of Dr G. W. Klein, injuring members of his family, on 29 September 1979

  • An attack on Dr Juan Alemán, on 7 November 1979

  • The assassination of engineer Guillermo Soldatti, on 13 November 1979

At the same time, a psychological campaign was launched abroad, aimed at achieving international isolation of the Argentine Republic.

e) Final period (1980–1988)

After the failure of the Counteroffensive campaign, the Montoneros—like the PRT-ERP—decided to abandon armed struggle and pursue their goals through political means.

Following the decision in July 1982 to restore constitutional order in Argentina, the Montoneros resolved to reintroduce their militants into the country, seeking to infiltrate the Justicialist Party (PJ). Their aim was to represent their organisation within the party by appealing to the idea of Peronist unity. This involved a shift in strategy, with a deliberate effort to rebrand themselves from a guerrilla force to a political group.

Despite this repositioning, the PJ maintained a place within its internal structure for revolutionary Peronism, regarding it as the vanguard of a mass movement.

Meanwhile, the PRT reorganised its ranks and entered a period of party reconstruction, which it declared complete during its 7th Congress, held in Argentina in April 1987. From that point on, the PRT aligned itself with the Broad Front for National Liberation (FRAL), led by the Communist Party.

f) Current situation

Analysing the current situation requires a separate and specialised study, as it falls outside the immediate context of this work—not only because of the changes experienced by society itself, but also due to the influence of international forces in the internal affairs of individual countries.

Nevertheless, it can be stated that within the national and political sphere, there is a clear tendency among radical and subversive groups, including so-called front organisations, to seek legal recognition. This would allow them to keep their activity alive, placing them in the best possible position to resume the struggle should conditions permit.

On the international level, this strategy reflects the doctrine of “non-armed approximation”, which in Argentina is being pursued primarily through labour and trade union groups, considered the most likely sectors to initiate armed struggle in the form of a mass urban insurrection.


O. E. Guerrero (Brigadier General, Ret.)

Monday, December 8, 2025

Lamadrid, the Bravest of the Brave

The Bravest of the Brave


Domingo Faustino Sarmiento once said of him:

“General Lamadrid is one of those natural-born figures of the Argentine land. At the age of 14, he began waging war against the Spaniards, and the feats of his romantic bravery go beyond the limits of possibility: he has been in a hundred and forty encounters, in all of which Lamadrid’s sword emerged nicked and dripping with blood; the smoke of gunpowder and the neighing of horses drive him into ecstasy, and as long as he can slash everything before him—cavalry, cannons, infantry—it matters little to him whether the battle is won or lost.

I said he is a natural type of this country, not for his fabulous courage alone, but because he is both a cavalry officer and a poet. He is a kind of Tyrtaeus, inspiring soldiers with war songs—the same bard I mentioned in the first part; he is the gaucho spirit, civilized and devoted to freedom. Sadly, he is not a 'square' general, as Napoleon required; bravery outweighs his other qualities by a hundred to one.”




They say he was an inveterate candy eater.
He was terrified of water and did everything possible to avoid boarding boats and ships.
He would sing vidalitas to his soldiers before battles.

When San Martín took command of the Army of the North in early 1814, replacing Manuel Belgrano—recently defeated at Vilcapugio and Ayohuma—the Dragoon Captain from Tucumán, Gregorio Aráoz de Lamadrid, served as aide-de-camp to the future Condor of the Andes.

He was present in Tucumán and Salta. Also at Vilcapugio and Ayohuma.
And when he became entangled in the fratricidal civil wars between Unitarians and Federalists, fate took him to a place called El Tala.
There, fortune turned against him.
It was 1827. And he was nearly killed in that battle.

He received eleven saber blows to the head; his nose was broken and the tip dangled over his upper lip. His right ear, nearly sliced in two, hung by a thread of skin. Another slash severed the biceps of his left arm, and a bayonet struck deep into his shoulder blade.

When he fell to the ground, still gripping his saber, they clubbed him with rifle butts, trampled him with their horses, and broke his ribs. As they stripped him of his weapons and clothing, Lamadrid summoned his last strength and shouted, as best he could, that he would not surrender.
His body bathed in blood, they finished him off with a shot to the back.
They left, believing he was dead.

But he survived—against all odds.
And earned the nickname: “The Immortal.”

General Gregorio Aráoz de Lamadrid was born on November 28, 1795, in Tucumán.

A daguerreotype of the General reveals the true face of the warrior.
And a photograph of the bullet that was removed from his back—the one that shattered his shoulder blade—is on display at the National Historical Museum.

 

Tuesday, December 2, 2025

Mount Longdon: The Letter of Private Albert Petrucelli


The Letter of Private Alberto Petrucelli (7th Mechanised Infantry Regiment)

Malvinas 1982

This is the story of a letter that was never sent to its addressee, written by the Argentine soldier Alberto Daniel Petrucelli before he was killed in action during the Battle of Mount Longdon, in the Malvinas, in 1982.




Although this letter did not come directly into my hands, I learned about it thanks to the kindness of Malvinas veteran Fernando Arabio. We got chatting after I posted on social media about the circumstances in which Sergeant Ian McKay, a British soldier of the 3rd Battalion of The Parachute Regiment, was killed while assaulting Argentine positions on Mount Longdon on the night of 11–12 June 1982. The Argentine soldier Alberto Daniel Petrucelli had been born on 18 October 1962 in the Federal Capital, and in the Malvinas he formed part of the First Rifle Group, Second Section, B “Maipú” Company, 7th Mechanised Infantry Regiment “Coronel Conde”.

The letter is addressed to Nancy, Alberto Petrucelli’s girlfriend, and is dated 29 May 1982. It is possible that he wrote it at a moment when he was left on his own because Corporal Gustavo Pedemonte, the group commander, and soldiers Enrique Ronconi (A Team Leader) and Felipe Ramírez (B Team Leader) had gone out on patrol to carry out a forward observation on the Murrell River. It is written on a sheet of Government Telegraph Service, Falkland Islands, stationery which Corporal Pedemonte himself had given him. Pedemonte in turn had received it from another soldier who had managed to get hold of some of the stationery that was seized in the house of the British governor Rex Hunt after Operation Rosario.



In the letter “from a hero to his official girlfriend” (as he himself headed it), Private Petrucelli conveys his deep love for his girlfriend and other feelings he was harbouring, from a strong faith in God and in the Virgin who protected him, to uncertainty about how events would unfold, which had remained unchanged since 1 May. Not least is his mention of that very day on which he was writing, when he was delighted to see snow start to fall and then disappointed shortly afterwards because the snow turned into British shells. The paragraph begins by telling her that he was well and that he would stay “escondidito” (“nicely hidden”), just as she had asked him to do in previous letters. However, in another passage of the letter Petrucelli wrote that he felt like crying but did not, because he “made himself strong and felt like a man”.



During the assault on the Argentine positions, carried out by the 3rd Battalion of The Parachute Regiment, Privates Alberto Petrucelli and Enrique Ronconi together with Corporal Gustavo Pedemonte brought down Sergeant Ian McKay, who fell on the edge of the foxhole they occupied. An hour later Private Julio Maidana joined the position and began refilling the magazines with two or three rounds at a time so that they could keep firing without delay. The three soldiers died heroically when a grenade managed to get into the foxhole and its explosion killed them. Corporal Pedemonte, who was at one end of the hole and shielded by the bodies of the soldiers, was hit by shrapnel in a leg and a buttock but survived. Afterwards, when the British soldiers who had approached the position moved away, he was able to climb out of the foxhole to seek help desperately for his men.

Private Gareth Rudd, belonging to the machine-gun team of 3rd Section, 2nd Platoon, A Company, 3rd Battalion The Parachute Regiment, told his comrade David J. Reeves that after the assault on Mount Longdon the British held firm in their defensive positions to protect themselves from the Argentine field artillery fire that was pounding them. Later, he went out with another soldier to patrol the northern side of Mount Longdon and they discovered the bodies of Sergeant Ian McKay and of the soldiers who had died with him while assaulting an Argentine position that had been very well constructed. They searched the position and found the bodies of three Argentine soldiers, pulled them out of the foxhole and laid them alongside the fallen British. The Argentine soldiers were better equipped with clothing and boots for the climate of the Malvinas, and as it was bitterly cold, Gareth Rudd took the duvet from one of the dead soldiers in an attempt to keep himself warmer. He then informed a non-commissioned officer about the bodies they had found and went back to his own shelter, as the Argentine artillery fire had started up again.



Gareth Rudd was part of the group of British soldiers who wrapped that whole group of dead British and Argentine soldiers in ponchos. It was not until he reached Puerto Argentino and settled with other soldiers in one of the houses that, when checking the pockets of the duvet, he discovered the letter from Alberto Petrucelli to his girlfriend Nancy. The letter ended up being kept in a wardrobe where he also had photographs, newspaper cuttings, maps and his own correspondence with his family.

More than forty years later, Mr David J. Reeves got in touch with Fernando Arabio and sent him the letter and the note in which his comrade Gareth Rudd told him how he had found it. Fernando managed to contact Mrs Nancy, who now lives in Chile with her family. At first, Mrs Nancy agreed to receive the letter, but in the end she decided not to, perhaps because of the memories it would stir up. Fernando then contacted Gustavo Pedemonte and the letter was donated to be placed on public display in the Museum of the 7th Mechanised Infantry Regiment.

Wednesday, November 26, 2025

Malvinas: Machine Gunner Conscript Oscar Ledesma Remembers H. Jones


Those Things of War...



Lieutenant Colonel Herbert "H" Jones was the highest-ranking British officer killed during the Malvinas War. He commanded the British Parachute Regiment and was a legend among his men. He was killed in action by Argentine conscript Oscar Ledesma, who was 19 years old at the time and in charge of the only functioning MAG machine gun in his group. Years later, the Argentine soldier wrote a heartfelt letter to Jones’s widow, Sara.

Open Letter to Sara (widow of Herbert Jones)

"Time acts in accordance with our deeds, and memory is shaped by our actions."

"At the age of just 19, I found myself facing the British 2nd Parachute Regiment on the morning of 28 May 1982, during the battle of Darwin Hill. Regardless of how the events unfolded, nothing can erase from my heart and mind the memory of that terrible confrontation."

"Eventually, I had to pull the trigger and bring down an adversary. At no moment did I feel hatred in doing so, nor did I ever boast about it or take joy in the act. I had no choice—I had to protect my fellow soldiers, who watched in terror as a Para assaulted their position, unaware that just a few metres away, my machine gun was waiting. Just as I did not know who that daring soldier was—who, in a display of astonishing bravery, charged an Argentine position."

"Once the battle ended, I offered a prayer for all those who had fallen, and I asked God to comfort their families."

"It has always weighed on me that I never had the chance to look you in the eye and tell you that your husband died as a brave soldier, and that his former adversary honours him every day with the utmost respect—just as I honour all the fallen."

"I offer you my deepest respects, and to your children as well—heirs of a valiant warrior."

Oscar Ledesma

Sunday, October 26, 2025

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

Account of Corporal "EC" Ramírez, RI-12

Malvinas 1982


 

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

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



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

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

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

Sunday, October 5, 2025

Beagle Crisis: The Planned Armoured Assault to Punta Arenas (v1.5)


Assault on the Chilean Government Buildings

Armoured Assault to Punta Arenas

By Esteban McLaren



On 22 December 1978, known as D-Day, various military actions would have been initiated in a coordinated manner along the borders with Chile within the framework of Operation Soberanía (Sovereignty). It is very difficult to determine with certainty which of all the planned actions would have actually started the war, but it is clear that it would have been a simultaneous assault on at least four fronts. The main focus would have been the naval battle and the landing in the Beagle Channel, where the Marine Infantry of the Argentine Navy (IMARA) would attempt to land part of its troops on the islands of Lennox, Nueva (already occupied by troops of the Chilean Marine Corps, CIM) and Picton, while other troops would seek to occupy the rest of the islands. This front will be the subject of future analysis. Synchronously, there would be a ground advance on the Southern front setting out from Río Gallegos (with a potential second line of advance from Rospentek Aike), with Punta Arenas as the final objective. The purpose of this article is to essay an alternative-history scenario. The war never happened, but how would it have unfolded if Argentina had not accepted papal mediation? That will be our point of divergence from real history. Let us appeal to rationality and foresight in an exercise that will always be incomplete and whose final outcome belongs to another space–time.


Start of the assault on Chilean positions on the border, with Mount Aymond in the background.


Context and development of the invasion

In the southern winter of 1978, tension between Argentina and Chile over the dispute regarding the Beagle Channel reached its peak. In the early hours of 21 December, Argentine troops stationed in Río Gallegos, Rospentek and other border locations received the order to begin the invasion of Chile. Since July, Chilean forces had been preparing for this confrontation, aware that diplomacy might not be enough to resolve the conflict.




The Argentine Forces

Argentina mobilised a formidable force, including the 1st Infantry Division, reinforced by elements of the XI Mechanised Infantry Brigade and the IX Infantry Brigade. The X Mechanised Infantry Brigade was deployed in Río Gallegos, ready to cross the border. All units would be reinforced as circumstances required.

In the air, A-4 Skyhawk, Mirage Dagger and Nesher fighter aircraft —as well as up to 14 F-86 Sabres (which had already violated Chilean airspace weeks earlier)— were ready to provide air support, while the Argentine Navy, with its destroyers and frigates, patrolled the nearby waters.

Argentine Forces:

  • V Army Corps — General José Antonio Vaquero —. Assigned mission: Strategic offensive starting at 24:00 (H+2), departing from Santa Cruz, with the likely objective of conquering Puerto Natales and Punta Arenas. Thereafter, it would support Army Corps III in its advance through Puyehue towards Chile, cutting communications between the central zone and the south of Chilean territory.
  • 1st Infantry Division (with elements of the XI Mechanised Infantry Brigade and the IX Infantry Brigade)
  • X Mechanised Infantry Brigade (based in Río Gallegos)
  • XI Mechanised Infantry Brigade
  • Argentine National Gendarmerie: Border guard forces
  • Air Force with A-4 Skyhawk, F-86-F Sabre and Mirage III fighter aircraft
  • Naval Forces: IMARA together with the T-28 Fennec, with nearly 20 units stationed on the island of Tierra del Fuego.



Urban combat in the 18 de Septiembre neighbourhood, Punta Arenas

The Chilean Defence

In response, Chile positioned its III Army Division in Punta Arenas, reinforced by the 4th Armoured Brigade “Coraceros” and the 6th Army Division, with elements of the 5th Infantry Brigade. The general in charge of the defence of the Magallanes region, General Nilo Floody Buxton, always stated that at this stage the border guards (Carabineros) would be his troops of choice. The Chilean Air Force, equipped with 12 A-37 Dragonfly aircraft and 6 Hawker Hunters, was on maximum alert, and the Chilean Navy, with its ships and submarine, was ready to intercept any Argentine naval advance.

Chilean Forces:

  • III Army Division (based in Punta Arenas)

  • 4th Armoured Brigade “Coraceros”

  • 6th Army Division (with elements of the 5th Infantry Brigade)

  • Carabineros: Border guard who, on this front, had disproportionate importance due to their knowledge of the frontier. The general in charge of the defence of Punta Arenas always stressed their importance in the defence, but as any militarised police force they were not proper infantry, and their only “encounter” with Argentine forces had left them in a very poor position. See further below.

  • Chilean Air Force with Hawker Hunter and A-37 combat aircraft (no confirmation of any of them)

  • Naval Forces (CIM tasked with the islands of the channel)

The case of the Carabineros as soldiers

One issue that has rarely been discussed with the attention it deserves —and which seems to have obsessed only the author— is Chile’s decision to employ the Carabineros de Chile (CC) as an infantry force, or even as mechanised infantry, during the Beagle conflict. This decision is particularly striking if one considers the institutional nature of the Carabineros: by their own definition, they are a national police force with functions of internal security and border control, making them a hybrid institution but essentially police. Their role is equivalent, in the Argentine case, to a combination of three forces: the Federal Police, the provincial police forces, and the Argentine National Gendarmerie (GNA), the latter indeed being a militarised security force with responsibility in border areas. Within this framework, any reasonable comparison between the CC and armed or military forces should carry strong conceptual reservations.

During the escalation of the Beagle Channel conflict, responsibility for the defence of the Magallanes Region —whose capital is Punta Arenas— fell to General Ernesto Floody Buxton. A singular figure, of British descent, fair-skinned and with manners that his supporters considered charismatic, Floody stood out for public statements as controversial as they were unfortunate, both in content and in form. It is surprising that an officer of his rank repeatedly declared in Chilean media that, if necessary, he would face a potential armed conflict exclusively with “troops” of the Carabineros. This assertion, far from anecdotal, has been corroborated by multiple testimonies and documentary records.

The underlying problem lies in the military planning implicit in this decision. From positions such as Monte Aymond, on the border, the deployment of Argentine armoured means was evident, suggesting that, in the event of hostilities, Argentina would opt for a high-intensity mechanised offensive. In this context arises a legitimate and deeply troubling question: did General Floody really expect to contain an armoured advance with police personnel lacking training in conventional war doctrine, or in combat as light or mechanised infantry?

The most basic military logic questions this disposition. What previous experience did the Carabineros have in high-intensity engagements? What tactical logic supported this choice? It is not only difficult to imagine an Argentine military plan that, for example, placed the GNA in the first line of an assault on Punta Arenas, but even in a counter-offensive situation it would be highly improbable to delegate to a militarised police force the containment of enemy troops.

And yet, that seems to have been exactly the Chilean approach. The official justifications referred to the use of the Carabineros as rearguard elements —for tasks such as control of prisoners of war and surveillance of civilian areas— but the empirical evidence contradicts that explanation. Carabineros were transported on LAN Chile night flights to Magallanes, with the aim of not alerting Argentine intelligence, and were deployed directly on the front line. Although they had received only a few weeks of training at the infantry school, their additional preparation was no more than that. Contemporary photographs and accounts place them armed with anti-tank rocket launchers in Cabeza de Mar, and other records document their transfer from Chabunco to Porvenir, in the heart of Isla Grande de Tierra del Fuego —all positions within the immediate theatre of operations.




This deployment not only contradicts the official version but also exposes an alarming lack of strategic judgement. Far from being an extraordinary resource in the face of a logistical or tactical emergency, the use of the CC as a military vanguard reflects serious doctrinal disorganisation and, ultimately, an anachronistic view of modern warfare on the part of the Chilean high command. The defence of the country’s southernmost region was left in the hands of a force inadequate for the type of combat that was taking shape. If one also considers that the very same Carabineros had surrendered almost without resistance in the Lago del Desierto incident years earlier, the decision is not only questionable but openly irresponsible. It is true that in war one goes with what one has, but was there really no other ECh infantry available to employ in their place?



Invasion Routes

The Argentine forces planned their advance towards Punta Arenas using two main routes. The northern route, departing from Río Gallegos, crossed the border through Monte Aymond, following Route CH-255 southwards to Punta Arenas. This road, although relatively flat, presented natural challenges such as rivers and hills that could slow the advance.




The alternative route, departing from Rospentek, crossed the border following Route CH-40 and then headed south along Route CH-9 to Punta Arenas. This road was more difficult, with mountainous and wooded terrain that would complicate the advance of the armoured formations.

  1. Main Northern Route:

  • Starting point: Río Gallegos

  • Main points: Advance through the Monte Aymond border crossing, following Route CH-255 southwards to Punta Arenas.

  • Characteristics: Relatively flat terrain but with possible natural obstacles such as rivers and hills.

  • Open ground in many sections for an armoured battle and for the deployment of forces in line, wedge, or V formation.




  1. Alternative Western Route:

  • Starting point: Rospentek

  • Main points: Border crossing via Route CH-40, then proceed south along Route CH-9 to Punta Arenas.

  • Initial objective: Would begin with the capture and securing of Puerto Natales, a concentration point for Chilean forces.

  • Characteristics: Mountainous and wooded terrain, more difficult for the advance of large armoured formations. Suitable ground for ambushes.

  • Engineering considerations: Bridges along the route would be destroyed (for example, Puente Rubens, Río Pendiente), necessitating engineer units.

  • Suitability for armour: Poorly suited to broad armoured formations (only columns or diamond formations feasible).



These are the troops of the Chilean 5th Cavalry Regiment “Lanceros” [Lancers] deployed to defend Puerto Natales. They were going to face an Argentine armoured advance with horse-mounted cavalry, Polish style. No joke.


Chilean population in Argentine Patagonia

In his chronicle Cuando el río no era turbio (“When the river was not murky”), Ramón Arriagada recounts the close relationship between Chilean workers, mainly chilotes, and the Río Turbio coalfield in Argentina during the 1950s to 1970s. According to the 1970 census, Puerto Natales had 13,675 inhabitants, of whom 2,800 worked in the mine. By 1976, around 600 Chilean miners were commuting in shifts, using Natales as a dormitory town due to the lack of housing in Río Turbio.

Arriagada cites the writer Nicasio Tangol, who emphasised that the chilotes were fundamental in shaping Patagonia. In 1961, the newspaper El Austral reported that the mine produced 500 tonnes per day and employed 1,200 miners, mostly Chilean–chilotes. In addition, about 1,800 workers were employed on the surface, 80% of them Chileans as well. Another 600 Chileans worked on the construction of the 270-kilometre railway between Río Turbio and Río Gallegos, and by 1951 there were already 1,200 miners working in the coalfield.

The author highlights how migration from Chiloé to Patagonia increased, especially after the 1960 earthquake and tsunami, and how the 1978 border conflict between Chile and Argentina marked a change, when Chilean miners were replaced by workers from northern Argentina, Bolivia and Paraguay.

In his chronicle Sueños de Carbón (“Dreams of Coal”), Arriagada addresses the 2004 mining accident, which left 14 dead, and how retired miners from Natales who had worked in Río Turbio survive on miserable pensions and must cross the border to receive medical care, since they have no access to social security in Chile, making them outcasts in their own country. (El Tirapiedras)

From these population movements, entirely under the sovereign authority of the Argentine Republic, Chilean General Floody would complain, associating them with an act of war. No joke.





Following with the story, both routes converge at Laguna Cabeza de Mar where, if two coordinated invasion forces were to set out, they could regroup and continue on to Punta Arenas. The road to Punta Arenas via CH-9 is a coastal route highly vulnerable to air attacks and ambushes or hit-and-run strikes. The route leads the force to the core of Chilean regional military power: the Chabunco air base and, opposite it, the headquarters of the III Army Division.



Chilean defensive lines

Chile would have adopted a defence-in-depth strategy, as declared by the general in charge of the Army Division (Southern Theatre of Operations). The first line of defence could already have been sited at Monte Aymond and its surroundings, right on the frontier. That line was, from the few photographs gathered, a jumble of foxholes and trenches, with poorly equipped soldiers — undoubtedly cannon fodder to wear down the advance.

When a penetration of this kind occurs, the theory of war leads us to think of three phases for the force facing it:

  1. Containment: Hold the penetration in place — that is, stop it or slow it so it cannot continue to advance.
  2. Flanking: Begin moving forces to the flanks of the penetration, basically to the sectors close to where the breach began. This is done to operate on those flanks simultaneously and “strangle” the penetration by cutting the enemy’s communications with its rear.
  3. Annihilation: The detailed destruction of the encircled troops (death or capture).


Here, Chilean troops would have built forward positions to slow the enemy’s advance. Anti-tank guns and conventional field artillery — not in great quantity or variety — are visible in photographs and documentaries. Probably the best trans-Andean weaponry in this phase was the deployment of anti-tank mines. A second line of defence would be at San Gregorio, with fortifications, minefields and trenches ready to resist an assault. From there to the regional capital, various points could be fortified. The final defence is concentrated around Punta Arenas, where troops, long-range artillery and the best anti-tank defences are assembled.



See below the “Maginot line” that Chilean strategists had developed: simple trenches and foxholes. The soldier in the front line is using an old bolt-action Mauser 1909 rifle from the First World War.

Photo of a “foxhole” with a Chilean infantryman armed with a bolt-action Mauser rifle near Monte Aymond

The Chilean defence-in-depth would probably have included:

  • First line of defence: Forward positions at Monte Aymond and surrounding areas.
  • Second line of defence: Fortifications and trenches around San Gregorio along Route CH-40, and ambushes from wooded areas between Laguna Arauco and Primavera. Trenches at Laguna Cabeza de Mar (Arancia Clavel and Bulnes Serrano, 2017:164). All bridges were fitted with explosive charges, cavalry units armed with anti-tank rockets were sent forward, and night firing zones were prepared and properly “staked out” and painted to avoid confusion (AC&BS, 2017:141).
  • Final defence: Fortifications and troops concentrated near Punta Arenas, including long-range artillery and anti-tank defences (few and outdated in the ECh inventory of that period). Many civilians actively collaborated in the mobilisation. Much of the vehicles and heavy machinery used in the construction of trenches, shelters, watch posts and anti-tank ditches was provided by local businessmen. In turn, ranch owners made available sheds to house troops and store equipment and supplies (AC&BS, 2017:114).

It should be noted that this scenario contained several factors that emerged over time. For example, Chilean forces lacked anti-tank mines and ammunition was scarce. The soldiers in the first line of defence were placed as cannon fodder, with only 80 cartridges per weapon and no resupply. Many — perhaps too many — indicators showed that Chile was very, very poorly prepared for war.


The stalemate of the advance

The Argentine advance faced its first major test at San Gregorio, where Chilean defences would be well prepared and the terrain favoured the defenders. Here, the advance would slow considerably, turning into a battle of attrition. The apparently most fortified area was the road in the lagoon zone of Cabeza de Mar.

From Rospentek, the troops would have to overcome harassment attacks and construct bridges over river crossings where the bridges had been destroyed. Once joined with the forces coming from Río Gallegos, they would need to regroup and assess the damage and the reorganisation of the advance.

There is a key issue to bear in mind throughout this entire campaign: Argentine air superiority. The only Chilean air base in the Area of Operations was Chabunco, in Punta Arenas. That air base was to be attacked by the Argentine Air Force in the early hours of the advance, and finished off later that same afternoon by the Naval Aviation Command. Any resistance put up by Chilean ground forces would then have to endure continued aerial harassment.

How many examples are there of ground defences being immune to simultaneous air and land attacks? Imagine a pocket of Chilean resistance — perhaps an artillery battery hidden in a ravine, or machine-gun nests strategically positioned along the route of advance. The Argentine military commander would simply need to pass the coordinates to Río Gallegos, to the dispersal airstrip at Estancia La Sara, or to the naval air base at Río Grande, so that aircraft from both air branches could deliver machine-gun fire, bombs or rockets to dismantle the defence.

These same options were not available to the Chilean commander.

Armored Regiment No. 5 "Punta Arenas", deployed in 1978 in the Magallanes region. The Scorpion Detachment advances, in M-41 tanks and M-113 armoured personnel carriers.

Countering the Chilean defence

To overcome this obstacle, Argentina could deploy the XI Mechanised Infantry Brigade to penetrate and disrupt the initial defences. Argentine artillery would bombard the Chilean positions, while airborne units and the air force would carry out flanking manoeuvres and provide crucial air support.

 

  • The XI Mechanised Infantry Brigade must penetrate and disorganise the initial defences.
  • Artillery forces to bombard defensive positions.
  • Airborne units and Air Force for flanking and air support.
  • The Chabunco air base would have to be put out of action for the advance to succeed.


Trans-Andean soldiers firing the service SIG rifle

Airborne assault on Punta Arenas

In the context of this conflict, Argentine forces planned a bold airborne assault on Punta Arenas. Accounts from veterans of this crisis, particularly from the 14th Parachute Infantry Regiment based in Córdoba, indicate that an airborne assault was being planned to capture the city of Punta Arenas. For this purpose, BAM Río Gallegos was already hosting DC-3 and C-130 transport aircraft ready for the operation.

The main objectives of this assault included seizing Presidente Carlos Ibáñez del Campo Airport, thereby securing a vital bridgehead for the continuous flow of troops and supplies. It would also focus on destroying Chilean command and control facilities to disrupt their defences, and on capturing the port and key logistical installations, thus cutting off enemy supplies and reinforcements.

This could be achieved following a surprise Air Base Attack (ABA) carried out by the Argentine Air Force using A-4 Skyhawks and BAC Canberras at H+2 of the invasion.


Main objectives:

  • Capture Presidente Carlos Ibáñez del Campo Airport to secure a bridgehead and allow the continuous flow of troops and supplies.
  • Destroy command-and-control facilities to disorganise Chilean forces.
  • Seize the port and principal logistical installations to cut supplies and reinforcements.




Entry into Punta Arenas

Argentine armour and mechanised infantry would move rapidly along Route 9, advancing with lethal precision. Armoured vehicles would adopt line formations to maximise frontal firepower, while infantry units would follow closely, ready to disembark and secure the streets. A secondary column would advance along road Y-505, flanking the Chilean defences and dividing their attention.

Objectives in the city

The Port of Punta Arenas was one of the principal objectives. By the time of the ground assault the actual condition of the airport would need to be assessed, since it would probably already have been put out of action by an initial air attack by the Argentine Air Force (case analysed in this link). Controlling the port would allow Argentine forces to secure a vital supply line and receive maritime reinforcements. Specialised commandos and mechanised infantry units would be deployed to seize the docks and port facilities, facing fierce Chilean resistance.

The Presidente Carlos Ibáñez del Campo Airport and its annex, the Chabunco air base, would also be crucial. Controlling the airport would guarantee an airhead, allowing the continuous transport of troops and supplies. Argentine airborne and rapid-assault units, already familiar with the terrain from their operations at Chabunco, would be launched in a swift offensive to secure the runways and neutralise any resistance. There would be a high probability of runways and facilities being blown up to deny their use to the attackers. It was entirely to be expected that, before falling into the hands of Argentine troops, the locals would demolish all installations crucial to their operation.

Government and communications buildings will be equally strategic. Battle-hardened Argentine forces will infiltrate the city center to capture the Magallanes Intendancy and the police headquarters, seeking to disrupt Chilean defenses and establish administrative control. These will undoubtedly be the most savage scenes imaginable throughout the campaign, due to the very nature of urban combat.


The capture of Punta Arenas

Urban resistance

As Argentine troops pushed into Punta Arenas, they would encounter tenacious resistance at several key points. The Civic Centre area, with its government and commercial buildings, would undoubtedly become a battlefield. Chilean troops, entrenched inside buildings, would mount an organised defence, slowing the Argentine advance.

In the 18 de Septiembre neighbourhood, a dense residential area of mostly wooden houses, Chilean forces would adopt urban guerrilla tactics. Ambushes, snipers and improvised barricades turned every street and every house into a point of resistance. Fighting intensified, with Argentine troops battling house by house to clear the area. It would also prove an area very easy to destroy with fire, given the predominance of wood in its construction.


The industrial zone north of the city could also be a focus of resistance. Chilean defenses, using industrial equipment and heavy vehicles as barricades, would turn factories and warehouses into makeshift fortifications. Argentine troops should consider deploying specialized assault units to overcome these defenses.


Trans-Andean soldiers armed with SIG rifles parading

Argentine Strategies

To counter Chilean resistance, Argentine forces deployed a combination of tactics and resources. The use of artillery and air support would be crucial to weaken defenses before the ground assault. Precise bombing raids disrupted Chilean lines, facilitating the advance of ground units.


Paratroopers from the Leopardo Company of the 2nd "General Balcarce" Airborne Infantry Regiment, Argentine Army, Ushuaia, November 1978

Commando operations (the newly created Halcón 8 special team) and paratroopers would play a pivotal role. Elite units infiltrated the city to neutralize strategic points, capturing key objectives quickly and with the fewest casualties possible. These commandos would carry out surgical strikes against Chilean defenses, facilitating the advance of the main forces.


Urban warfare would become the main focus. Mechanized patrols, assault teams, and specialized urban combat units would systematically advance, facing fierce resistance but managing to secure key areas. Coordination and communication would be essential to maintain the momentum of the advance.

Population Control and Stabilization

Finally, to maintain control of the city and prevent acts of sabotage, Argentine forces would establish checkpoints and conduct regular patrols. The constant presence of troops would help stabilize the situation and ensure that the city remained under Argentine control after the capture of the main objectives. Acts of guerrilla warfare and resistance would be expected throughout the period.



The Fall

The capture of Punta Arenas would be a complex and bloody operation, testing the capabilities and determination of the Argentine forces. Their numerical and material superiority would give them a significant advantage, but the Chilean resistance, taking advantage of their knowledge of the terrain and well-prepared defenses, would turn each advance into a fierce struggle. The city would eventually fall, but at a significant human cost to both sides.

 

Probability analysis of success

Argentina’s numerical and material superiority is evident: a ratio of 5:1 in armour, 4:1 in aircraft and 3:1 in infantry. These advantages, together with strategic planning and tactical execution, suggest a high probability of success for Argentina in the capture of Punta Arenas. However, Chile’s preparation and defensive strategy, making use of knowledge of the terrain and defence in depth, also held possibilities of success.

Probability of success for Argentina: 70%
Probability of success for Chile: 40%

Argentina:

  • Probability of success: High, due to numerical and material superiority (armour, aircraft and infantry), although it would face significant difficulties in terrain and well-prepared defences.

  • Estimated success: 70%

Chile:

  • Probability of success: Moderate, considering defence in depth and knowledge of the terrain, although outnumbered and out-equipped.

  • Estimated success: 40%


Tanks entering 18 de Septiembre slum

Estimated casualties

Casualties in this conflict would be significant for both sides, reflecting the intensity of the fighting and the well-prepared defences.

  • Estimated Argentine casualties: minimum of 15,000–20,000 (including dead, wounded and prisoners)

  • Estimated Chilean casualties: minimum of 15,000–40,000 (including dead, wounded, prisoners and civilians depending on their degree of involvement)

These estimates underline the human cost of a conflict which, although hypothetical, reflects the gravity of a military escalation between two neighbouring nations.


Summary

An armoured campaign by the Argentine Army against Chilean forces in the Magallanes region would have been a bloody affair under any consideration. The possibility of success existed, but it was by no means guaranteed. With time and when comparing opposing analyses from each side, it becomes clear that, from the Chilean perspective, many potential Argentine attacks would have been completely surprising and even innovative, despite being drawn straight from doctrinal manuals since the Second World War. The Chilean defensive scheme was classical — one could even say out of yellowed pages of defensive tactics books. A layered tactical and static defence, but with a severe shortage of resources, making them like bricks without mortar. And here I refer to the very comments of the mining explosives producer turned arms magnate in exile, Mr Cardoen. In an interview for a state television programme across the Andes, he himself remarked that the armed forces had requested his services to produce anti-tank mines since the Chilean Army had none at all in its inventory. In other words, the defence of Magallanes was not going to be flooded with AT mines — far from it — perhaps one of the key elements to slow an armoured advance. Not my words, I repeat. Without that, Mr Floody’s defence looks like a giant scarecrow.

On the other hand, it is essential to point out the alarming overestimation that the organiser of the defence, the aforementioned Mr Floody Buxton, gave to the Carabineros. This is, indisputably, a civilian border police force, and under no circumstances should it be considered a combat force. It is possible that this man intended to make use of their vast knowledge as baqueanos of the region or through intelligence with infiltrated farmhands, but did this officer of British descent really think he could successfully face an armoured or airborne assault with Carabineros? Did Floody truly believe he could entrust his life and the defence of Punta Arenas to a militarised police force without any wartime record? Worse still, their only “combat record” had been invading Argentine territory at Lago del Desierto. There, a Carabineros patrol stationed itself for several days with SIG rifles, entrenched in a shed turned checkpoint, defending the position. No need to invoke La Concepción or Prat: at the first burst from the gendarmes, which killed one Chilean soldier, all the Carabineros surrendered. All of them. Was that the force upon which this “majestic” general pinned his hopes? By any analysis, both in terms of function and of record, Floody was completely mistaken.

Finally, and the final blow, Chile lacked air superiority. What would the Chilean infantry or cavalry, even entrenched in a well-planned defensive position, have done when 450- or 500-kilogram bombs fell on their position with impunity? Historical evidence shows that troops in defensive positions have managed to survive air or artillery attacks (Monte Cassino, Stalingrad, among others). However, it is obvious that this is not the side of the battlefield the troops wished to be on, and there is also further evidence that defensive positions have been dismantled by overwhelming air attacks that disarmed and demoralized the resistance.

All analyses lead to an inexorable Chilean defeat in which, at best, a stalemate might have been achieved within current Chilean territory. The damage to local infrastructure would have been in the billions, and human casualties in the tens of thousands. A scenario, in every respect, lamentable. This fear instilled in the Chilean armed forces, together with the Malvinas event in 1982, would shape that country’s entire defence policy up to the present day.

Citations

Patricia Arancibia Clavel, Francisco Bulnes Serrano. La escuadra en acción. 1978: el conflicto Chile-Argentina visto a través de sus protagonistas. Santiago, Chile: Catalonia, 2017. ISBN: 978-956-324-298-0