Malvinas: The Assault on Governor House — An Argentine NCO’s Account

At the Head of My Group of Twelve Soldiers

Account by Marine Second Corporal and Malvinas War Veteran Conrado Augusto Olmos Matar

From the time I was a young boy, I felt a calling to pursue a career in the armed services. I wanted to become either a police officer or a serviceman. While I was at secondary school, a friend from my neighbourhood, Argentine Navy NCO Carlos Sequeira, encouraged me to continue my studies in the Navy. Some time later, personnel from that institution came to the province to promote recruitment among young men from Santiago del Estero. I did not let the opportunity pass and quickly submitted my application.

After meeting the entry requirements, I joined the Marine Infantry NCO School at Punta Mogotes. The early days were difficult because, like anyone from Santiago del Estero, I missed my homeland, its customs, my loved ones and my friends. Everything was new and different, and I felt alone among so many recruits from different parts of the country.

The training was so demanding that many of my fellow recruits requested their discharge. Of all those who had entered, only seventy-four of us graduated. Several times I came close to abandoning my career, but thanks to the encouragement and support of a lieutenant named Alemán, I was able to continue and graduate as a second corporal in 1980.

My first posting was to the 1st Marine Infantry Battalion at Puerto Belgrano, where I was received by the deputy commander, Captain Giachino, and the company commander, Lieutenant Damore. From that moment onwards, I began taking my first steps as an NCO. My duties basically consisted of training a group of soldiers while continuing to expand my own professional knowledge.

In 1981, I was placed in charge of training the Rocket Launcher Group, which consisted of twelve soldiers, including two men from Santiago del Estero, Coronel and Gutiérrez. At the beginning of 1982, my group was incorporated into C Company—Charlie Company—which was under the command of an NCO named Gigena.

I remember being particularly struck by the fact that, by that point in the year, the soldiers of the 1962 intake had still not been discharged and that training activities and exercises were continuing. Normally, operational activities were reduced during that period and replaced by maintenance duties.

One warm morning in March, the officers and NCOs were assembled on the unit’s parade ground. Captain Giachino informed us that we had to prepare to embark and sail towards some islands, where we were to recover an Argentine vessel that had been seized by the British.

Only one thought kept repeating itself in my mind: we were going to fight. You join the armed forces knowing that you may never actually have to do so, but our time had come. I mentally reviewed everything I had learnt.

From that moment onwards, we began our preparations, which mainly involved completing our stocks of supplies, field equipment and ammunition. In addition, we went to the firing range every day to practise and zero our weapons.

Our preparations continued until approximately one thousand men belonging to the Marine Infantry Brigade embarked aboard the vessel Comandante Trizar. Although we had the necessary facilities, during the first few days we suffered badly from seasickness. Despite our previous experience at sea, the conditions were so rough that virtually everyone aboard felt their effects.

Once we were well out at sea, the officers and NCOs were assembled to receive the operational order. In broad terms, our mission was to land on and seize the Malvinas Islands. Our principal objective was to overcome the forces defending Government House and remove the existing authorities.

This task was to be carried out by the Amphibious Commandos, supported by us, the Marines. The mission was by no means easy. We knew that we would be facing professional soldiers with combat experience who belonged to a major world power. The most difficult requirement, however, was that we had to defeat the enemy while attempting to avoid causing casualties. It was an extremely difficult undertaking, but in the end it was achieved.

During the night of 1–2 April, we completed our final preparations and readied our personnel and equipment for the landing. At that moment, I did not think about the historic nature of what I was about to do, because the demands of the operation and the responsibility of leading my soldiers left me no time to do so.

I thought only about how the operation would unfold, how I would react to the different situations that might arise when we encountered the enemy, and how my subordinates would respond. So many questions remained unanswered as we waited for the decisive moment when we would enter combat.

Shortly before dawn, the operation began with troops landing by helicopter. My group was ordered to proceed directly to the airport, take part in the assault to seize it and then advance towards Government House. We went forward with our teeth clenched, ready for battle.

When we arrived, we encountered no resistance. There were only a few British personnel, who had already been taken prisoner by the troops who had landed before us. Although the situation in that sector was under control, we had to exercise extreme caution because of the large number of mines and explosive booby traps that the enemy had placed in the area.

While we waited at the airport for the rest of the battalion to arrive, we could hear bursts of machine-gun fire and explosions in different parts of the island. It was only then that I fully understood that the operation had begun and that I was involved in a serious armed conflict.

I remember with great sorrow that, while we were at the airport awaiting orders, a helicopter approached carrying the body of our deputy commander, Captain Giachino. He had fought heroically at the head of his men during the most important operation carried out on the island up to that point.

The news filled us with sadness, but also with anger. An Argentine had been killed, and he was a member of our own battalion.

Once the rest of our troops had arrived, we marched towards Government House in support of the Amphibious Commandos. We surrounded the building to ensure that none of the enemy escaped. By then, they had surrendered in the face of our forces’ offensive.

My next mission was to guard the prisoners and subsequently transport them to the mainland, together with my group and other personnel.

Once back in Argentina, we prepared to carry out a new mission: reinforcing the defences of Tierra del Fuego. I travelled there with other military formations and remained there until the end of the war.

Although I spent only a short time on the Malvinas Islands, I still feel deeply moved to have taken part in the recovery operations while commanding a group of twelve soldiers. Among them were two fellow natives of Santiago del Estero, Coronel and Gutiérrez, with whom I remain on friendly terms to this day.

“As a Navy NCO, I had the honour of serving in the 1st Marine Infantry Battalion and of being under the command of Captain Giachino, an example of military virtue.”

Argentine Marines: Colemil and his Men en Monte Longdon

Lance Corporal Colemil and his men on Monte Longdon

The Marines of the 12.7 mm machine-gun company attached to RI-7 on Monte Longdon prepared the defence of their position as they were accustomed to: deep works, with shelters, communication trenches, ammunition stores, etc., always working to improve them. It was the best way to pass the time before going into combat, as they were convinced they would have to fight, and constant work was the best way to overcome the انتظار, in line with Marine Corps tradition. When the British assault came, they saw how right that attitude had been. Those who had not done so suffered unnecessary casualties and were unable to fight effectively.

Two days before the attack, Lance Corporal Colemil went to the Marine Corps Combat Support Service. There, Lieutenant Scotto told him: “Vizcacha (another of Colemil’s nicknames), here are the newly arrived night sights—take these for the rifles and machine guns.” The lance corporal took three for rifles: he gave one to his commanding officer, Lieutenant Dachary, another to Chief Corporal Lamas, and kept the third. He also carried six Litton sights for the machine guns and five or six head-mounted night vision devices that proved of no use. The following day, the Marines spent time training with the night sights.

The night of 11 June 1982

Carlos Rafael Colemil, in charge of a 12.7 mm machine gun (the one positioned furthest to the west on Monte Longdon), had taken conscript Leiva, who felt unwell, to the aid post. After being examined and treated, he was authorised to return to his position. On their way back, they passed by Chief Corporal Lamas’s machine gun, who said to Colemil: “Stay very alert. Don’t let your guard down—there could be an attack tonight.” They continued on. When they reached the shelter they used for rest, Colemil woke the relief and, together with two conscripts who had already completed their watch on the 12.7, began the nightly patrol. They stopped briefly near the Army’s Racit (S) radar (an infantry radar used to detect the enemy) and exchanged a few words with the operator sergeant. “Get into your dugout—they’re about to start firing,” he warned Colemil.

The radar, capable of detecting enemy infantry movements, was switched off at 8 p.m., as British ships had detected it and subjected it to naval fire from the south, which facilitated the infiltration of British paratroopers for the attack. These paratroopers, roughly a company in strength, made their way through the minefields without triggering them. Silently, they infiltrated sectors held by the Bravo Company of RI-7, under Second Lieutenant Juan D. Baldini, whose front faced west on Monte Longdon.

Colemil and the two conscripts continued moving among the rocks until he stopped and looked west through his rifle’s night sight. To his surprise, he saw a diffuse shape moving not far away. Uncertain, he aimed his FAL rifle and fired a shot. In response, he heard the unmistakable rattle of a Sterling machine gun. There was no doubt—it was the enemy, and close. At the same time, a paratrooper stepped on a mine; the man’s cry and the explosion alerted the whole of Monte Longdon.

Once the enemy was detected, Colemil ran to the shelter and used the field telephone to call Lieutenant Dachary’s command post: “Cobra, this is Araucano. Cobra, this is Araucano.” —“Go ahead, Araucano.” —“Man the weapons—we are under attack, we are under attack.” —“Received.” (The machine guns were connected to Dachary’s command post and to each other.)

While Colemil alerted his superior, the fighting spread. Thanks to the element of surprise, the British managed to position themselves at the western end of the hill, advancing with machine guns, rifles, and 66 and 84 mm rockets. The atmosphere was hellish. Colemil marked targets with tracer rounds from his rifle, aided by the night sight. Then came artillery fire. The Argentine Marines dived into their foxholes; as soon as it stopped, they emerged to keep firing, only to be hit again. The paratroopers took advantage of these moments to advance, overrunning Colemil’s position, leaving him isolated and unable to rejoin Dachary’s men.

Undeterred, Colemil continued firing the 12.7, but not for long—the weapon jammed and went out of action. From that point, a long night began for “Araucano” Colemil, a brilliant NCO whose determination and bravery caused the British many problems and numerous casualties.

“Well, we’ve got rifles and plenty of ammunition,” he told conscripts Ferrandiz and Leiva, who had remained with him. “Let’s shoot them to pieces.”
“Corporal, they’re coming in their hundreds,” said Ferrandiz.
“That’s fine—we’ll let them pass and then hit them from behind.”

At one point, Colemil saw British troops trying to set up a mortar. “These won’t get away,” he said, opening fire, wounding one and forcing the others to withdraw.
“Watch your back, Corporal!” warned Leiva as three paratroopers approached at speed. Colemil turned and fired a burst of about fifteen rounds. One fell; the other two retreated wounded, shouting.

Lying prone, he searched for targets through his sight. Whenever one came into range, he put them out of action. Alone, he caused heavy losses among those attempting to take the Argentine positions in that sector of Longdon. His conscripts supported him with their rifles.

At one point, he saw the enemy trying to recover a recoilless rifle near his position. He opened fire, saw one fall, and then his position came under intense fire. At that moment he thought: if I don’t fight, I’m dead. He began crawling from position to position, firing whenever he saw an enemy. He spotted one standing on a parapet with a bipod-mounted rifle—he fired, and the man dropped instantly. He continued firing at others trying to reach him.

While exposing himself to find targets, Colemil was hit—the round struck the front of his helmet, pierced it, and lodged in his scalp, stopping at the back of his head. A paratrooper, from just over twenty metres away, had thrown a grenade which exploded nearby, but a rock stopped the fragments. As Colemil rose to locate him, the same man fired his rifle. The bullet grazed his head. Because of this wound, running from forehead to nape, Colemil earned the nickname “Moneybox”. He felt warm blood running down his face. Dazed, he steadied himself, took up his rifle, and waited. As soon as his attacker appeared from behind a rock, he aimed at his chest and fired. The man cried out and fell backwards.

“Corporal, let’s bandage your head,” said Ferrandiz.
“Yes, but quickly—we can’t stop firing.”

“We’re cut off—we won’t hold much longer.”

At around 3 a.m., they began receiving fire from their own artillery, which was striking the area assuming it had already fallen.
“Corporal, why don’t we surrender?”
“No—no way. I won’t be taken prisoner.”
“Then let’s fall back.”
“All right—let’s go. We’ll link up with Corporal Lamas.”

They tried to withdraw but were immediately engaged and forced back. Colemil had offered fierce resistance and was clearly pinpointed.

At approximately 03:00, he decided to withdraw towards Bravo Company’s command post. Taking advantage of a lull, they tried again. The two conscripts managed to escape, but Colemil was hit in the leg. He tried to crawl but lost consciousness after a few metres. When the British advanced, they left him where he lay, believing him dead. He was later taken prisoner and regained consciousness aboard the British hospital ship Uganda, where a platinum plate was inserted in his skull.

That night, he expended five FAL magazines and reloaded twice. British accounts speak of a “sniper” who caused heavy casualties—this was likely Lance Corporal Carlos Rafael Colemil.

In 1982, he was awarded the decoration “Honour for Valour in Combat”.

BIM 5: Argentine Marines Arrives in the Malvinas

 

The Legendary BIM 5 Arrives in the Malvinas

Account taken from the book Batallón 5
This concerns the arrival in the Malvinas of the 5th Marine Infantry Battalion (School) and the loyalty of its members to the battalion.

C̲a̲p̲t̲a̲i̲n̲ ̲(̲t̲h̲e̲n̲ ̲a̲ ̲f̲r̲i̲g̲a̲t̲e̲ ̲c̲a̲p̲t̲a̲i̲n̲)̲ ̲R̲o̲b̲a̲c̲i̲o̲ recounts:

On 8 April, at nine in the morning, I received a telephone call from the command of Marine Infantry Force No. 1, based in Río Gallegos. The commander, Captain Manuel Tomé, who had replaced Captain Jorge Ranni, told me: “Robacio, I’m going to set up over there. You’re coming with me.” Two hours later I was already at the Battalion.

Around midday I called in my subordinates and ordered a general formation, in which I addressed them.

“I want to make it absolutely clear that we are going to fight, with everything that entails,” I said in an energetic tone. “We are going to fight, and we are going to do it well, as we have practised it a thousand times over here. No one is obliged to go, but whoever does not wish to be part of the Battalion should say so right now. Later will be too late.”

No one moved. Everyone stayed in place, motionless and silent—an eloquent silence indeed. As soon as the conscripts from the cohort that had been discharged heard the news, they tore up the tickets that would have taken them back home and immediately rejoined their companies. None of them wanted to remain on the mainland. None wanted to miss the chance to give themselves to the Battalion that had become part of their lives—even with the possibility of never returning, of dying far away on land that belonged to them, yet which they did not know.

Those who were not fit to go, because they were not operational, asked to be authorised to form part of the Battalion all the same. Those who were rejected did not hesitate for an instant to protest and to express their anger. Petty Officer Julio Saturnino Castillo, in charge of the Battalion’s maintenance group, had to remain at the barracks for organisational reasons. He became very upset and asked again and again—almost to the point of exhaustion—to be allowed to travel. In the end this petty officer went to the islands and was killed fighting on Mount Tumbledown, together with many of his soldiers from the maintenance group, who had also volunteered and joined the now legendary 4th Section of Nacar Company.

A particularly special case was that of the conscript Roberto Silva, from the province of Misiones. He had suffered an accident with a mortar and was therefore hospitalised while awaiting a decision, as he would have to be discharged. Once recovered, Captain Robacio placed him under the orders of Senior Petty Officer Jorge Hernández, so that he could serve as a messenger. Being illiterate, in the afternoons he attended the school, while in the mornings Hernández’s daughter gave him two hours of lessons and helped him with his homework. In a short time he had become one more member of that family. (The 5th Marine Infantry Battalion carries the abbreviation “ESC”, meaning “school”; illiterate soldiers learned to read and write.)

But then came the recovery of the Malvinas and, without hesitating for an instant, he asked to go. The senior petty officer refused authorisation, so the conscript resolutely went to Captain Robacio. He insisted so much that he finally obtained permission.

Before leaving for the islands, Silva said goodbye to Mrs Hernández. “Please, I want you to keep this,” he said, moved, handing her his civilian clothes, letters, money and some personal effects. Mrs Hernández could not hold back her tears. “This is my mother’s address. If I die, please write to her.” “Are you sure you want to go?” Mrs Hernández stammered. “Yes. It’s what I want most.”

As the Battalion began arriving in Puerto Argentino on several aircraft, the airfield was a hell. Aircraft arriving, others departing; loads being unloaded; people trying to find their groups. “Everyone to work,” Captain Robacio ordered, and he said to Lieutenant Commander Ponce (the Battalion’s second-in-command): “I want the ammunition crates here, and let’s get away from this chaos.” Robacio had not taken the entire Battalion, as some people had to stay behind to maintain the minimum functioning of it, and to assist the personnel who would be sent to cover the post they were leaving in Río Grande.

But his surprise was great when he saw that many of those men were arriving as stowaways, having slipped onto the aircraft. Such was the spirit of belonging among his people that they did not want to remain there on the mainland. Men from the reconnaissance squadron, conscripts from other sections, began to appear. Robacio counted them: forty men! But he would not stop being surprised there. At a certain moment he heard, behind him, a familiar voice. He turned at once and found himself face to face with his driver, the conscript Ricardo Khouri, whom he had also left on the mainland.

“What are you doing here?”
“Sir, I’m not going to stay with the Battalion while you’re here.”
“You’re going back,” Robacio said, trying to muster an anger he did not feel.
“No, sir, please. I’ve accompanied you everywhere; this time I’m not leaving you.”

Robacio looked into those eyes, shining with the mischief of someone who knows he is up to something. “All right, stay—but I’m going to have you locked up,” he replied jokingly.

“Sir,” the conscript said, pointing to the steps of an aircraft, “is that not…?”
“No! Him as well?” Robacio interrupted, clutching his head.

Grispo, “the fat one”, a civilian technician (the Navy has civilian personnel who work in certain areas such as workshops, offices, etc.), responsible for the Battalion’s electrical repairs, had also slipped onto a plane and there he was, as bold as brass.

“I’d better head into town,” Robacio said, and he started walking, then boarded a Jeep towards Puerto Argentino to report to his superior and receive orders.

Malvinas: Operation Georgias

Operation Georgias 

Satellite Image of South Georgia Islands Taken by NASA

Date: 3 April 1982
Location: Grytviken, South Georgia Islands
Outcome: Argentina takes control of Leith Harbour and Grytviken

Belligerents:
Argentina vs. United Kingdom

Commanders:
Captain Carlos Trombetta vs. Lieutenant Keith Paul Mills

Forces Engaged:
Argentina: 40 marines and the destroyer ARA Guerrico
United Kingdom: 22 Royal Marines and HMS Endurance

Casualties:
Argentina: 3 killed, 9 wounded, 1 corvette damaged, 1 helicopter shot down
United Kingdom: 1 wounded, 22 taken prisoner

Operation Georgias was the codename used by the Argentine Armed Forces for the operation to occupy the South Georgia Islands at the start of the Malvinas/Falklands War in 1982.
The invasion of South Georgia took place on 3 April 1982, when Argentine naval forces took control of South Georgia Island (renamed Isla San Pedro) after forcing the surrender of a small contingent of British Royal Marines in Grytviken. The Argentine intervention began on 19 March 1982, when a group of civilian workers arrived at Leith Harbour aboard the transport vessel ARA Bahía Buen Suceso (B-4), raising the Argentine flag. Some Argentine marines had infiltrated the group, posing as civilian scientists.

Polar Ship HMS Endurance in Mar del Plata, February 1982, shortly before its involvement in South Georgia

Argentine Workers in South Georgia

The Davidoff Contracts

In September 1979, Argentine businessman Constantino Davidoff, director of the company Georgia del Sur S.A. and a scrap metal dealer, signed a contract with the Edinburgh-based firm Christian Salvesen Co. The agreement granted him the right to remove the remains of the abandoned whaling stations at Leith, Stromness, and Husvik on the South Georgia Islands.
Davidoff approached the British Embassy in Buenos Aires requesting the use of the polar ship HMS Endurance to transport personnel and equipment necessary for dismantling the facilities. When the British authorities refused permission to use HMS Endurance, in August 1981 Davidoff sought approval from the Argentine Ministry of Foreign Affairs and the Navy to book passage aboard Antarctic transport vessels.
Aware of the British government's decision to withdraw HMS Endurance from service in the South Atlantic and anticipating a possible evacuation of Grytviken, the Argentine Navy signed an agreement with Davidoff that allowed him to travel to the islands at least twice a year.

Project and Operation Alfa

In September 1981, the Argentine Navy developed a plan to use Davidoff's salvage operations in South Georgia as a cover for establishing a covert base in the disputed territory. This initiative was given the codename Project Alfa. The plan involved infiltrating military personnel among the workers, posing as scientists. Once HMS Endurance had left the South Atlantic (from April onwards), they would be joined by 14 marines aboard a ship assigned to Antarctic base support, who would then establish a permanent military outpost on South Georgia. The base would benefit from the onset of winter, which would hinder any British attempt to remove it.

Parallel to this project, in October 1981, the commander of Antarctic naval operations received an order from the Chief of Operations of the Navy General Staff to study the possibility of establishing a scientific base on one of the disputed islands with the United Kingdom. It was expected that the base would be set up during the 1981–1982 Antarctic campaign. This operation was designated Operation Alfa.
In early December, a decision was made that the base would be manned by military personnel rather than civilians, due to the need for secrecy. The Amphibious Commando Group was ordered to assign 1 officer and 6 NCOs. The same instruction applied to an equal number of tactical divers.

On 29 January 1981, training began for the selected commandos and divers, under the command of Lieutenant Alfredo Astiz. The team included Lieutenant Carrilaff, 1 diver NCO, 1 medic NCO, 5 diver corporals, and 5 amphibious commando corporals. On 28 February, they boarded the Antarctic campaign vessel ARA Bahía Paraíso in Ushuaia.
To avoid interfering with planned operations in the Malvinas, the Military Committee cancelled Operation Alfa on 16 March. However, the commandos remained onboard as a precaution and departed on 18 March towards the South Orkney Islands, accompanying the vessel’s Antarctic campaign.

ARA Almirante Irízar

Davidoff’s Journeys

The Argentine businessman informed the British Embassy of his trip but did not request permission to travel aboard the icebreaker. On 16 December 1981, he set sail for South Georgia aboard the icebreaker ARA Almirante Irízar (Q-5) to carry out an inventory of the facilities to be dismantled at Stromness Bay. He arrived there on the 21st and departed a few days later.
On 23 December, the British magistrate in South Georgia discovered evidence of Argentine presence at Leith Harbour and reported it to Rex Hunt, Governor of the Falkland/Malvinas Islands, who relayed the information to London on 31 December. The British government instructed its embassy to issue a formal note of protest against the unauthorised landing, considered a breach of sovereignty. However, Argentina’s Foreign Minister claimed ignorance of the incident. A second formal protest was issued on 9 February but was rejected by the Argentine Foreign Ministry on 18 February.

Another Argentine trip to the islands occurred in February 1982, when a commercial rival of Davidoff, bank employee Adrián Marchessi, made an unplanned visit to Leith Harbour. Marchessi arrived at the site aboard the Caimán, a yacht registered in Panama, having sailed from Mar del Plata. He reported in at Grytviken, claiming to be part of Davidoff’s team, and provided the local British authorities with details of Davidoff’s December inspection as well as information on previous Argentine visits to the area during the 1970s.

Raising of the Argentine Flag

On 18 March 1982, the transport ship ARA Bahía Buen Suceso arrived at Leith Harbour, disembarking Davidoff’s workers and their equipment without first reporting at Grytviken, as required by the British government. At that time, the only British presence at Leith Harbour was a team from the British Antarctic Survey (BAS).
On 19 March, four BAS members en route to Carlita Bay discovered the ARA Bahía Buen Suceso unloading equipment at Leith Harbour, with the Argentine flag flying. Around 100 people had disembarked and occupied a BAS shelter. The BAS team leader, Trevor Edwards, approached Captain Briatore to inform him that their presence was unauthorised and that they were required to report at Grytviken. Edwards then informed the British magistrate at King Edward Point.
The BAS commander in Grytviken, Steve Martin, sent a message to Governor Rex Hunt, who consulted with London. The British authorities demanded the removal of the Argentine flag and the re-embarkation of the workers. Captain Briatore responded that the mission had the approval of the British Embassy in Buenos Aires and ordered the flag lowered, but he still did not comply with the order to report at Grytviken.

On 20 March, British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher was informed of the events. As the Argentines had failed to follow proper diplomatic procedures, the British government decided to respond with a limited intervention. The Foreign Office ordered HMS Endurance to sail to the area to ensure the removal of the Argentine flag and prevent any further landings. The ship had departed from Port Stanley on 16 March, carrying 22 Royal Marines.
On 21 March, the British Embassy in Buenos Aires issued a diplomatic protest, requesting that the Argentine government withdraw the workers.
Argentina’s Foreign Minister, Nicanor Costa Méndez, responded by appearing to de-escalate the crisis, assuring that the ARA Bahía Buen Suceso would soon depart the islands and that the incident had no official backing.

On the morning of 22 March, the ARA Bahía Buen Suceso left Leith Harbour. However, later that day, a BAS observation post detected the continued presence of Argentine personnel and relayed the information to London. As a result, the Foreign Office ordered HMS Endurance to evacuate any remaining Argentine personnel in South Georgia.

 

Operation Georgias

On 23 March, the Commander of the Antarctic Naval Group, Captain César Trombetta, aboard ARA Bahía Paraíso (B-1) and stationed in the South Orkney Islands, received orders from the Argentine Naval General Staff to proceed at full speed to the South Georgia Islands. His mission was to prevent HMS Endurance—which had departed from the Malvinas—from removing Davidoff’s Argentine workers from Leith Harbour.

In response to British movements, Argentina deployed several countermeasures. The corvettes ARA Drummond (P-31) and ARA Granville (P-33) were positioned between the Malvinas and South Georgia, ready to intercept HMS Endurance and recover any Argentine personnel on board.

On 24 March, the Argentine government publicly confirmed the presence of the workers on South Georgia. That same day, Lieutenant Alfredo Astiz received orders to “disembark at Leith Harbour at 00:15 on 25 March to protect the Argentine workers.”
That night, ARA Bahía Paraíso arrived at Leith and disembarked 14 armed military personnel (Group Alfa) under Astiz’s command, using weapons supplied by the ship. The vessel remained in the area, patrolling with its helicopters. News from the region reported unusual Argentine naval activity in the South Atlantic.

When HMS Endurance reached Leith Harbour, it found ARA Bahía Paraíso anchored there. The two ships then shadowed each other around the islands until they lost contact on 31 March.

In anticipation of a possible armed clash, the British Foreign Office attempted to negotiate a compromise. Lord Carrington proposed to Argentine Foreign Minister Costa Méndez that the workers at Leith Harbour be granted amnesty and provided with documentation—possibly temporary entry permits instead of passports, a significant concession to the Argentine position.
However, Argentina insisted that the arrival of its nationals in South Georgia should be governed by the 1971 Communications Agreement. Governor Rex Hunt strongly rejected extending that agreement—valid only for the Malvinas—to South Georgia and expressed his concerns to London.

The British plan was that BAS commander Steve Martin would remain in control until Argentine forces displayed hostile intent, at which point Lieutenant Keith Paul Mills would assume command.

On 28 March 1982, at 10:57, the destroyer ARA Santísima Trinidad (D-2) set sail as flagship of Task Force 40, carrying both the Task Force Commander and the Malvinas Theatre Commander, Major General Osvaldo García. This marked the beginning of Operation Rosario, which would lead to the surrender of the British governor in the Malvinas on 2 April.

That same day, 40 marines under Lieutenant Guillermo Luna boarded the corvette ARA Guerrico (P-2, now P-32) at Puerto Belgrano, bound for South Georgia. The journey was harsh and overcrowded, as the vessel was not suited for troop transport and faced poor weather during the four-day voyage.

On 30 March, with the invasion clearly imminent, the British government ordered the destroyer HMS Antrim, followed by two other surface vessels and three nuclear submarines, to proceed to South Georgia to reinforce HMS Endurance. The rest of the Royal Navy was placed on four-hour alert.

On 1 April, the Argentine Naval General Staff issued Operational Order No. 1/82 “S”, instructing forces to “occupy Grytviken and hold Leith to secure control of the South Georgia Islands.”
Missile corvette ARA Guerrico, under Commander Carlos Alfonso, was ordered to rendezvous with ARA Bahía Paraíso, which was equipped with two helicopters (a Puma from the Argentine Army and an Alouette from the Navy Air Command). The 40 marines under Luna’s command joined Astiz’s troops already stationed at Leith.

Up to that date, South Georgia had not been included in the Malvinas Theatre of Operations.

Insignia of Alfredo Astiz at the Imperial War Museum in London

With the available units, Task Group 60.1 was formed under the command of Captain César Trombetta. The group was composed of the following elements:[22]

• 60.1.1. Polar ship ARA Bahía Paraíso, commanded by Frigate Captain Ismael J. García

• 60.1.2. Corvette ARA Guerrico, commanded by Frigate Captain Carlos Alfonso

• 60.1.3. A detachment from Marine Infantry Battalion No. 4 (BIM 4), consisting of 40 marines under the command of Lieutenant Guillermo Luna

• 60.1.4. Two helicopters from the Antarctic Group: one Puma (Argentine Army) and one Alouette (Naval Aviation Command of the Argentine Navy)

• 60.1.5. A group of tactical divers and amphibious commandos (14 men), commanded by Lieutenant Alfredo Astiz

In response to these developments, a series of high-level meetings and diplomatic discussions took place in an attempt to prevent an Argentine invasion. On the night of 1 April, U.S. President Ronald Reagan pledged to British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher that he would speak directly with the Argentine Junta to avert an attack.

However, Reagan's phone conversation with Leopoldo Galtieri proved unsuccessful.[23]

British Resistance

Cumberland Bay, including King Edward Cove and the Grytviken Peninsula

2 April

On 2 April, Lieutenant Alfredo Astiz informed the Argentine personnel at Leith Harbour that Argentina had recovered the Malvinas, and he received the order to execute Operational Order No. 1/82 “S”.

Upon learning of the fall of Puerto Argentino (Port Stanley), British Lieutenant Keith Paul Mills acted quickly. His men fortified the beach at King Edward Point, near the entrance to the bay, using barbed wire and landmines, and set up defensive positions around the British Antarctic Survey (BAS) buildings. HMS Endurance, positioned a few miles offshore, maintained communications between the small British detachment and London. Mills was authorised to open fire in self-defence after issuing a warning. A subsequent statement from the British government instructed the Royal Marines “not to resist beyond the point where lives would be needlessly lost.”[24]

Due to severe weather, the ARA Guerrico only entered Cumberland Bay at 17:00 on 2 April. As a result, Argentina’s planned operations in South Georgia had to be postponed by Commander César Trombetta to the following day. The original plan had called for Astiz’s special forces to land at Hope Point, near Grytviken, to secure the arrival zone for the main ground troops, who would be flown in by helicopter. ARA Guerrico was to provide naval gunfire support from outside the bay, but her delayed arrival due to the storm forced a revised plan for 3 April.

Under the new plan:

• The first landing would be carried out by an Alouette helicopter from ARA Guerrico.

• This would be followed by three waves of marine infantry aboard a Puma helicopter from ARA Bahía Paraíso.

• A radio message demanding British surrender would be sent before any landing.

• After the warning, ARA Guerrico would move toward Caleta Capitán Vago (where Grytviken’s port is located), opposite King Edward Point.

The corvette was only authorised to fire upon request from the ground forces. Astiz’s troops were to remain in reserve aboard Bahía Paraíso, and all units were instructed to avoid enemy casualties as long as possible.[25]

Historian Lawrence Freedman believes that Trombetta’s assumption of minimal resistance was based on the belief that only BAS personnel were present. This was apparently due to the absence of HMS Endurance, which led Trombetta to underestimate the British military presence.
Trombetta ordered ARA Guerrico to approach the shore, dispatch the Alouette for reconnaissance, and use the Puma to transport the first marine detachment.[26]

During the night, both Argentine ships made contact and remained in nearby waters, with ARA Guerrico anchored in Stromness Bay.

3 April

At 05:00 on 3 April, Lieutenant Guillermo Luna received a naval message indicating that HMS Endurance was in Grytviken with 22 Royal Marines. However, Commander Trombetta believed that the landing zone would be clear, with any British personnel remaining aboard the polar ship.

At 07:35, with improved weather, ARA Guerrico arrived at Leith Harbour, where it transferred the marines to ARA Bahía Paraíso. Astiz’s commandos were re-embarked, and the workers left ashore under protection of forces from Bahía Paraíso, led by Lieutenant Cortez.

At 11:10, a surrender demand was transmitted from ARA Bahía Paraíso in English, and repeated three minutes later. The message falsely claimed that Governor Rex Hunt had surrendered not only in the Malvinas but also in all dependencies, including South Georgia.[13]
Lieutenant Mills received the message and relayed it to HMS Endurance to buy time. He also advised BAS personnel to take shelter in the local church. The British soldiers refused to surrender.

Meanwhile, the Alouette helicopter was flying over Grytviken, reporting no signs of visible resistance. ARA Guerrico began entering the inlet.
According to Argentine Admiral Rubén Oscar Mayorga, the corvette’s commander, Captain Carlos Alfonso, hesitated to bring the ship into such confined waters. Mayorga supports Freedman’s view that Trombetta’s assumptions about British military presence were incorrect. He cites an official report indicating that Trombetta underestimated the situation, also expressing concerns about ARA Guerrico’s readiness for combat.[28] The ship had only recently returned to active service after being in dry dock until just days before departing from Puerto Belgrano.[29]

 

Wreckage of the Argentine Puma Helicopter

Helicopter Downing

At 11:25, the Argentine command ordered the personnel at Grytviken to move into the open, announcing that a landing by marine infantry would take place. Ten minutes later, the ARA Guerrico reported the presence of armed personnel on the ground.

At 11:41, the first wave of 15 Argentine marines, including Lieutenant Luna, was deployed by a Puma helicopter at King Edward Point, opposite Shackleton House, where the British Royal Marines were entrenched. By then, the crew aboard Guerrico had confirmed that the British were positioned along the northern shore of the inlet.

A second wave of marines departed ARA Bahía Paraíso at 11:47, on the Puma, carrying Lieutenant Giusti, 14 marines, and a machine gun. However, Lieutenant Luna, already on the ground, had requested via Guerrico—as he had no direct communication with Bahía Paraíso—that the second wave be delayed and replaced with a third group carrying 60mm mortars. But the second wave was already airborne.

The landing took place east of Luna's position and in full view of the British defenders. The Puma came within effective range of British automatic weapons. It was immediately hit by heavy fire, but the pilot managed to cross the bay and conduct an emergency landing on the southern shore, opposite King Edward Point (known in Argentina as Punta Coronel Zelaya).

Two Argentine conscripts, Mario Almonacid and Jorge Néstor Águila, were killed. Four others were wounded, and the rest were left disorganised and out of combat position. Despite the setback, the marines opened fire with their machine gun on the hospital building, wounding one British marine in the arm.

At the same time, Luna’s troops began to advance toward Shackleton House, but after the Puma was downed, the British responded with heavy fire.[13] In response, Luna requested fire support from ARA Guerrico.

Attack on ARA Guerrico

At 11:55, Guerrico began its second approach to the inlet and opened fire. However, her 20mm guns jammed after the first shot. The 40mm cannons managed only six bursts, and the 100mm main gun became inoperable after a single round. Now fully exposed, the corvette had no choice but to turn within the cove and fire with weapons mounted on the opposite side.

At 11:59, British forces opened fire on the ship. The corvette was struck by small arms and a Carl Gustav 84mm anti-tank rocket launcher.[31] According to Mills, his men fired from a distance of approximately 550 metres.

The attack killed Petty Officer Patricio Guanca, wounded five sailors, and damaged multiple systems: electrical cables, one 40mm gun, an Exocet missile launcher, and the 100mm turret mount. As Guerrico passed again in front of the British position to retreat, she was hit by another intense wave of fire.
Argentine sources acknowledged that the vessel sustained over 200 hits during the engagement.[32]

Meanwhile, the Alouette helicopter—a reconnaissance aircraft—was used to transport the remaining 10 marines, landing them outside the range of British weapons.[13]

As the damaged Guerrico withdrew from the bay, the Argentine ground troops resumed small arms exchanges with Mills’ Royal Marines.[13] Once beyond the range of British weapons—near Hobart Rock—Guerrico resumed firing with her repaired 40mm guns.[33] This convinced Lieutenant Mills that the situation was untenable. He ordered his men to cease fire at 12:48, according to Admiral Mayorga.[33]

At 13:00, Mills approached the Argentine lines waving a white flag and surrendered. He was instructed to have his men surrender one by one. Mills and his marines were taken into custody by Astiz’s group, which had remained in reserve during the battle.[13]
At 13:35, the British flag was reported lowered.

HMS Endurance dispatched one of its Wasp helicopters to Cumberland Bay. The aircraft detected the Argentine corvette and the transport vessel in the cove but observed no signs of combat. HMS Endurance remained in South Georgia waters until 5 April.[34]

That afternoon, 13 BAS civilian personnel who had been scattered in the surrounding area were captured. At 23:00, Group Alfa replaced Lieutenant Cortez and his men in securing the workers at Leith Harbour.

ARA Guerrico

Consequences

Following the engagement at Grytviken, the corvette ARA Guerrico, which had lost approximately 50% of its firepower due to battle damage, departed Grytviken alongside ARA Bahía Paraíso at 03:15 on 4 April, bound for Río Grande.[35]

The ARA Bahía Paraíso transported the captured British Royal Marines to Río Grande, from where they were flown to Montevideo. They returned to the United Kingdom on 20 April.[13]

The Argentine forces chose not to attack the BAS station on Bird Island, where 15 British BAS personnel remained out of Argentine control. These individuals also remained active in other areas such as Schlieper Bay, the Lyell Glacier, and Saint Andrews Bay, avoiding capture until the islands were retaken by British forces.

The Argentine Navy left behind a garrison of 55 marines on the islands, along with 39 civilian scrap workers who remained stationed at Leith Harbour.[34]

The South Georgia Islands were retaken by British forces on 25 April 1982 during Operation Paraquat.[36]

Medals

• Lieutenant Keith Paul Mills was awarded the Distinguished Service Cross (DSC).

• Captain Nick Barker of HMS Endurance received the title of Commander of the Order of the British Empire (CBE).[13]

• Chief Gunner Francisco Solano Páez was awarded the Argentine Medal for Valour in Combat (La Nación Argentina al Valor en Combate).[37]

Bibliography

-Freedman, Lawrence: The Official History of the Falklands Campaign: The origins of the Falklands war. Routledge, 2005. ISBN 0-7146-5206-7 
-Freedman, Lawrence and Gamba, Virginia: Señales de Guerra. Javier Vergara Editor, 1992. ISBN 950-15-1112-X 
-Insight Team Sunday Times (1982). War in the Falklands: the Full Story. The Sunday Times. 
-Contraalmirante Horacio A. Mayorga: No Vencidos. Ed. Planeta, Buenos Aires, 1998. ISBN 950-742-976-X 
-The Argentine Invasion of South Georgias 

Referencias

1. "They infiltrated aboard, posing as scientists, but were in fact members of an Argentine naval special forces unit". Nick van der Bijl, Nine Battles to Stanley, London, Leo Cooper P.8 as reported in Lawrence Freemdman, The Official History of the Falklands Camapign: Vol I The Origins of the Falklands War
2. "Bahia Buen Suceso set sail for South Georgia on 11 March carrying Argentine Marines" Rowland White, Vulcan 607, London, Bantam Press, p30.
3. Freedman-Gamba, p. 74.
4. El Proyecto Alfa
5. Freedman-Gamba, p. 75
6. Freedman-Gamba, p. 76
7. The first visit of Davidoff
8. Insight Team Sunday Times, p. 67
9. Freedman, p. 172
10. Freedman-Gamba, p. 81
11. Segunda visita de Davidoff
12. Freedman-Gamba, p. 85
13. Britain Small Wars
14. Freedman-Gamba, p. 86
15. Freedman-Gamba, pp. 87-88
16. At that time, the Antarctic Naval Group was concluding the 1981/1982 summer campaign. By the second half of March 1982, the icebreaker ARA Almirante Irízar had returned to its home port at the Naval Station of Buenos Aires (Apostadero Naval de Buenos Aires). Meanwhile, the polar transport ship ARA Bahía Paraíso (B-1), under the command of Frigate Captain Ismael J. García, departed from the Naval Base Ushuaia bound for Base Esperanza in Antarctica, transporting the families who would be overwintering there. Following this mission, the ship continued to the South Orkney Islands, where it embarked the personnel of the Naval Construction Battalion, who had just completed construction of a new building for the local Antarctic detachment.
17. La perla austral, cronología
18. Freedman, pp. 183 and 184
19. Freedman-Gamba, pp. 98-99
20. Freedman, p.187
21. Héroes Salteños Caidos en la Guerra de las Malvinas
22. Mayorga, p. 94
23. Cf. Jonh O'Sullivan, op. cit., págs. 229-230.
24. Freedman, pp. 11-13
25. Mayorga, p. 97
26. Freedman, p. 13
27. Freedman, pp. 13-14
28. Mayorga, p. 98
29. Mayorga, p. 48
30. Mayorga, pp. 99-100
31. Mayorga, p. 100
32. Malvinas: Georgias del Sur
33. Mayorga, p. 101
34. Freedman, p. 14
35. Mayorga, p. 102
36. Freedman, p. 222
37. www.armada.mil.ar


Wikipedia.es

Nacar Section: A Story of a Marine

 

A Story of a Marine Infantryman

Account taken from the Gaceta Malvinense

My name is Fernando Claudio Martín. I was CC/61 (I joined with the class of ’62 due to a study deferment). I belonged to BIM 5, Company “Nácar”, 3rd Section, under the command of Sub-Lieutenant Jorge “Pechito” Lucero.

As I begin to write these lines, I can’t help but feel a touch of nostalgia. I’ve heard countless stories about the Malvinas campaign — thanks to my friend, veteran Pascual Distefano, I’ve had the privilege for several years to take part in his radio programme “Malvinas Hoy… Historia de una Guerra”. That’s why telling my own story feels harder — I’m far more comfortable listening than speaking.

I joined the Naval Infantry Service on 1 April 1981. After completing my first training period at the Naval Infantry Training Centre (CIFIM), I was posted to BIM No. 5, based in Río Grande (Tierra del Fuego). I arrived at the end of May 1981, and from then began an intense but essential period of formation and training as a Marine infantryman.

Time would prove our commander right in pushing us to the limit — our performance in Malvinas would later justify his demands. On 2 April 1982, we were already in the field when we heard on the radio about the recovery of our Malvinas Islands. We were overjoyed, without imagining what was to come next. Everything happened so fast that, if memory serves, by 8 April we were already flying to the islands aboard a Navy aircraft.

Upon arrival, we were first stationed near the airfield, and later transferred to our final defensive position on Mount Tumbledown. I was in the 3rd Section of Company Nácar, and our position was established on the northern slope of the mountain.

Life in the islands became increasingly difficult. The weather grew harsher and the terrain more hostile, but we managed to endure thanks to constant work improving our defences and training. Generally, we didn’t suffer much from shortages — food wasn’t abundant, but it was sufficient, and our equipment was in good condition and suited to the environment (we came from a region with similar conditions).

I’d like to recall a small anecdote about two remarkable conscripts from my section, Miguel Fernández and Jorge Ponce. Every time they went down to the settlement, they came back well supplied — drinks and chocolate mostly — which we’d later trade for yerba, flour, and other goods.

Days passed until 1 May, when the first British attack took place. From that day onwards, everything became much tougher. The fighting had begun, and with it, the uncertainty of what would happen to us, and how we’d respond under such pressure. We learnt to live with bombardments, watched from afar the attacks on the airfield, witnessed the battles of Longdon, Two Sisters, and Wireless Ridge, and awaited with determination the British assault on our positions.

In the final days of the battle, we came under a devastating artillery barrage that wounded my comrade Vicente Zurzolo in the back. In my desperation to get him out of our partially collapsed shelter, I didn’t realise that I, too, had been wounded. I carried him as best I could to the aid post near the service area, where both of us received medical attention.

Now, so many years later, with the experience and perspective that time brings, I sometimes think I might have handled things differently. Not out of regret, but simply as a reflection on the choices one has in those moments.

By the end of the war, I was in the hospital at Port Stanley. Watching the British troops enter the town was deeply painful. The war was over — but I could never have imagined that the post-war period would prove even harder than the conflict itself.

I can’t finish this account without expressing my thanks — first, to all the conscripts of BIM 5, especially those of Company Nácar; to Captain (Ret.) Carlos H. Robacio, our guide and mentor who taught us to be good soldiers and honourable men; to Sub-Lieutenant Jorge Lucero, our section commander; to all the officers and NCOs who trained us throughout our service in the Marine Infantry; to Commander (Ret.) Guillermo Botto for his friendship and wise advice; and to my family, for their patience and love.

All that remains for me to say is that, as an Argentine, I am proud to have defended the sovereignty of our Malvinas Islands, and I will always continue to uphold the honour of our fallen heroes and the justice of our national cause.

VGM Fernando Claudio Martín

 

Argentina: Argentine Marines

Argentine Marines

The Marine Infantry is one of the components of the Argentine Navy. Its primary mission is to carry out amphibious operations involving the landing of troops on coastal areas from the sea. They may also take part in land, riverine, and other missions. 🇦🇷⚓ 

Malvinas: The 12.7mm Heavy Machine Gun Company B.I.C.O. in Mount Longdon

The 12.7mm Heavy Machine Gun Company B.I.C.O. is sent to the Malvinas

Part 5

Narrated by then-Lieutenant of the Navy Sergio Dachary

Paratrooper Company B, which was attempting to penetrate through the centre of Mount Longdon, encountered tenacious resistance and had to divert around the North, that is, to one side. In that way, they approached from behind the machine gun of Corporal Second Class José Roldán, commander of the 1st 12.7mm group composed of three machines and their respective teams of four conscripts. Roldán, with Machine No. 2, was with soldiers Scarano, Bogado and Almirón. It was 22:00 hours when Bogado, who was on guard with Almirón, approached Roldán and warned him: "Corporal, there are people advancing. I saw them with the scope."



At the same time, an Army corporal who was manning a machine gun about fifteen metres to the left and below Roldán, sent one of his conscripts to warn him that the English were approaching from the north and the rear. Illumination rounds had begun to fall, and despite the fog, the first British troops could be observed advancing in a line.

"We shall receive them properly!" exclaimed Roldán, and the 12.7 began to spit out its deadly ammunition. For a good while, the machine gun held the enemy at bay, who, lying on the ground about 150 metres away, had to halt their advance. At the same time, the three machines remaining to Lieutenant Dachary were already in position, firing towards that sector.

Corporal Roldán’s 12.7 began receiving intense fire, likely due to the emission of the night scope. For a moment they ceased firing, but suddenly, the light of a flare allowed them to observe about forty paratroopers advancing towards them, shouting. Roldán turned the machine gun slightly to the right and began sweeping fire, until the weapon jammed. Nonetheless, they saw some English troops fall and others retreat.

A sergeant from the Army’s 120mm mortars, who was retreating while wounded, approached Roldán and said:

— "We’re holding them back. They cannot get closer than 150 metres."
— "Yes, we no longer have the machine gun, but we’ll keep firing with rifles."
— "Be careful, there may be enemies dressed in friendly uniforms."

The British increased the activity of their two field batteries. The fire was infernal, with remarkable accuracy, as they were firing just fifty metres beyond their front line, demonstrating perfect training for that type of fire. Still, they made no progress. The effectiveness of the 12.7s was demonstrated at every moment. Additionally, the rifles and MAG machine guns of RI-7 (7th Infantry Regiment) formed a barrier difficult to break.

Major Carrizo decided to launch two counterattacks on both flanks of the hill, towards the West: one led by First Lieutenant Enrique E. Neirotti on the South side; the other, with an Engineer Section under Lieutenant Hugo A. Quiroga, from the North. Both attempts advanced, recovering some ground, but failed to dislodge the English from the hill, despite the heroism of the men, due to the impassable British supporting fire.

Dachary understood that it was necessary to remove the British from the positions they had taken to the West of Longdon, in order to recover the other slope without difficulty, which, being very steep, offered few options for scaling, especially while under fire from the crest.

As the British pressed harder and managed to advance slowly, Carrizo contacted the RI-7 commander and requested a reinforcement company and artillery fire on the North and West to soften them up. The direct support battery, located East of Longdon, began firing two guns on the North and four on the West.

Instead of a company, Lieutenant Colonel Jiménez sent only a section, which arrived with casualties as they had to cross one kilometre of open terrain under artillery salvos. These men, under Second Lieutenant Raúl Castañeda, were guided by a messenger soldier who knew the mountain paths from daily patrols.

Castañeda’s section began its counterattack, flanked by the Engineer group from the West and another section from the South. The Army infantry advanced shouting and firing continuously, supported by the 12.7s and an 81mm mortar, which fired until all ammunition was exhausted.

In this way, they managed to recover part of the lost ground, surprising the paratroopers (the first aid post established by the British was nearly overrun by this assault). Castañeda’s section had to repel several counterattacks. These men held out until dawn, and with no reinforcements, they withdrew along the same path they had advanced (a sheep trail unknown to the British). This section suffered almost 50% casualties.

Malvinas: A Tribute to the Heroes of BIM 5

Commander Carlos Robacio leads the 5th Marine Batallion 5 in Tumbledown

The 5th Marine Infantry Battalion from Río Grande stood alone against the onslaught of the Scots Guards at Mount Tumbledown, writing a glorious page in history.


 


During the 74 days of the Malvinas War, British forces were taken aback by the professionalism and fighting spirit of the Argentine troops. There is extensive British literature on the conflict, and all of it acknowledges the courage and resilience of our forces. One particular unit earned, from the British themselves, the nickname “Battalion from Hell” due to its valour and combat effectiveness. These men were the Marines of the 5th Marine Infantry Battalion (BIM 5).

On 7 April 1982, the personnel of BIM 5, based in Río Grande, arrived in the Malvinas under the command of Commander Carlos Robacio. The troops were deployed in the defensive system around Puerto Argentino, together with the Infantry Regiments RI 25 and RI 8. To reinforce the naval forces, Company C of RI 3 and Company B of RI 6 were also added. This integration of Army and Navy units was unprecedented and proved highly effective thanks to the professionalism and commitment of their officers.

From 1 May, the enemy began an aerial and naval bombardment campaign that severely affected the daily life of the Argentine soldiers. During the day, Harrier jets attacked the nearby airstrip and trench lines; at night, the Royal Navy carried out shelling. Despite this, the Marines maintained strong morale and continued to improve their defensive positions, preparing for the ground battle they knew was drawing near.

They endured 44 days of relentless siege. When fighting around Puerto Argentino began on 12 June, the marines of BIM 5 were ready to enter history. The British attack started at dusk and continued through the night. The first unpleasant surprise for the attackers was the presence of heavy machine gun nests equipped with infrared sights, which stalled their advance. Artillery exchanges followed, with the British enjoying an advantage thanks to their longer-range guns and greater mobility. Nevertheless, Argentine artillerymen fought with bravery and professionalism, firing until their last rounds, with barrels glowing red-hot.



On 13 June, the British launched their final offensive. They concentrated all their forces—paratroopers and Royal Marines—achieving a 3-to-1 numerical superiority over our Marines at the main breach. The artillery fire was intense, and naval artillery joined the barrage. Our own artillery, undeterred, responded at a rate of 1,000 rounds per hour, choosing to die on their feet rather than abandon their comrades.

In the late afternoon, the British attempted a flanking manoeuvre via Mount Harriet to distract the Argentine command. Robacio did not take the bait and instead set a deadly trap: he ambushed the enemy, pinning them between a minefield and artillery fire, while positioning Marines at their rear to block retreat. The outcome was heroic. The British were crushed by our artillery and infantry fire. Two hours later, the British company commander requested a ceasefire, citing the harrowing cries of the wounded as demoralising his troops. This ceasefire allowed the arrival of helicopters to evacuate the injured. No shots were fired at the helicopters, which were unarmed and clearly only conducting medical evacuation.

In the early hours of 14 June, the Scots Guards moved to the centre of the assault on Puerto Argentino. The firefight was intense. So many tracer rounds filled the sky that it seemed like daylight. In the final moments of the assault, the fighting became hand-to-hand. Argentine forces repelled the attack with fixed bayonets and requested artillery and mortar fire directly on their own positions, as the enemy had reached them. Second Lieutenant Silva and NCO Castillo called for a counterattack after being overrun. They left their positions and launched a bayonet charge until they were killed.

Commander Robacio personally led the counterattack, retaking lost positions and pushing the Scots Guards back to their original lines. By 3 a.m., amid a heavy snowfall, the Marines prepared another counteroffensive against the British paratroopers and requested authorisation as their forward units engaged the enemy. The order from Puerto Argentino was to withdraw, as it had become impossible to resupply 105 mm howitzers and mortars. Despite this setback, morale remained high, and it was difficult to convince the Marines to abandon their positions. With iron discipline, they withdrew from Mount Tumbledown and fell back.

A well-executed withdrawal under enemy pressure is one of the most difficult manoeuvres in military doctrine. History offers many examples of such withdrawals turning into deadly routs. But with pride, the Marines of BIM 5 took up new positions on the outskirts of Puerto Argentino, still determined to fight. Gurkha troops were dispatched to pursue the Argentines to make up for the Scots' poor performance, but they were halted and counterattacked—even though our men had run out of ammunition.

At dawn on Monday, 14 June 1982, BIM 5 had no ammunition left. In 36 hours, they had fired 17,000 artillery shells and all their mortar rounds. At 10 a.m., the ceasefire order came from Puerto Argentino. The battalion was still in combat formation. Commander Robacio requested confirmation of the order. His unit entered the capital of the islands in full marching formation, carrying all their personal weapons. Tragically, a section of the Navy Company that had been separated did not receive the order and at 12:30 engaged a landing of six British helicopters, shooting down two and suffering the loss of the last three Argentine soldiers in combat.

In military history, few units have endured 44 hours of bombardment without relief and then faced the enemy with such courage and determination. The Argentine forces at Tumbledown included 700 Marines and 200 soldiers, who confronted 3,000 of the best-trained troops of the British Armed Forces. Seventy-five per cent of our heroes were conscripts. BIM 5 suffered 30 killed and 105 wounded, inflicting an estimated 360 casualties on the enemy (a figure never officially recognised, though many British officers have acknowledged it privately).

How did they endure such hardship and fight with such determination? BIM 5 and RI 25 were the only units acclimatised to the Malvinas. They were well equipped, and their officers were professional and competent. They also shared a remarkable esprit de corps. As an example: on 14 June at 10:30, during the retreat to Sapper Hill, Commander Daniel Ponce collapsed from exhaustion. Amid gunfire, two conscripts rushed to carry him. Ponce ordered them to leave him and flee. Their reply: “Captain, if we die, we die together.” They lifted him and withdrew. That was the spirit of the marines of BIM 5, who gave everything for their country.