5th Marine Batallion: The Experience of An NCO

Account of a Marine Non-Commssioned Officer – Company “OBRA” – BIM5 Ec (Part 1)

Extracted from: Revista Desembarco – Volume 12

 

 

Petty Officer Roberto Tejerina recalls:

"I went to Malvinas as part of the Advance Party of BIM5 Ec, assigned to the Forward Platoon. Upon arrival at the airport, the Commander and some members of the Staff went ahead to receive orders; we remained at the airport. Later, we moved forward in a truck to the shearing shed near Moody Brook, where we spent the night.

Early the next day, 9 April, we set out on foot toward tentative zones where we were to take up positions. The Commander accompanied us on foot, gave us our primary fields of fire and the sector to occupy, and ordered us to draft a Tentative Fire Plan, along with requests for fire and logistical support. That same day, the Company Commander arrived. I briefed him on what had been done, and after inspecting the area, he submitted the requests and the Fire Plan. Among other things, he requested additional support weapons, communications equipment and a vehicle — which was never provided, so all equipment and supplies had to be carried on our backs."

Petty Officer Tejerina was the Company Sergeant Major of Company “OBRA” (also referred to as “Oscar” or “O”) of BIM5 Ec. In reality, OBRA, with fewer than 80 men, was closer to a reinforced platoon than a full company.

From its arrival in Malvinas on 8 April until 14 June, this company successfully completed three distinct missions:

1. First Mission (8–16 April): Defensive position on Wireless Ridge, protecting the northern sector of Puerto Argentino’s initial defences.

2. Second Mission (17 April – 8 June): Upon arrival of Mechanised Brigade X, the unit was repositioned to the eastern slopes of Mount Tumbledown, serving as the battalion’s reserve. During this phase, it performed all the demanding tasks expected of a reserve unit, including logistical efforts which, while tactically inadvisable, were practically unavoidable.

3. Third Mission (5–14 June): As an advance combat element, it engaged enemy attacks.

Company OBRA was the smallest rifle company in BIM5 Ec, yet it participated in all unit exercises and was routinely assigned roles as reserve or forward security. It was known for being highly cohesive and close-knit. Its successive company commanders —young and modern— gained considerable experience and developed a strong bond with the unit, shared also by the NCOs.

Years prior, OBRA had been stationed in Ushuaia, specialising in medium and low mountain combat and southern terrain operations. Later, it relocated to Río Grande, becoming a permanent part of the battalion, but retaining its distinctive spearhead spirit.

In 1981, the company conducted numerous live-fire combat exercises with air support. Under the leadership of Sub-Lieutenant Carlos Alberto Calmels, it became a well-trained and highly motivated team. The company specialised in heliborne operations, conducting extensive helicopter training. Their repeated assignments as reserve force, heliborne unit, and security element enabled them to gain solid experience in assault planning, counterattack execution, and independent operations across broad sectors.

At the end of January 1982, Sub-Lieutenant Calmels handed command of “O” Company to Sub-Lieutenant Ricardo Quiroga. From February to late March, the company conducted patrols and field exercises, fostering cohesion and strong camaraderie. During the retaking of Malvinas, they were in the midst of a 15-day campaign.

Marine Petty Officer Second Class Roberto Tejerina, Company Sergeant Major, was in his second year in that role and served as an essential pillar in the company’s leadership. The company was composed of three rifle groups, a weapons section with three 60 mm mortars, two 7.62 mm machine gun teams, and four rocket launchers (only two of which were operational; the rest travelled with the baggage train). In Malvinas, additional reinforcements arrived, including Petty Officer Orozco from the reconnaissance section, who took command of the Support Weapons Section.

"We conducted many foot reconnaissance missions to familiarise ourselves with the terrain since we were the battalion reserve."

On Wireless Ridge – Mount Longdon

Company O / BIM5 Ec deployed on the designated height (1800 metres east of the Royal Marines’ Barracks) and spent 10 April organising its defensive position. The company deployed in an arc formation, with its three groups in the front line. Main fields of fire were directed westward, toward Moody Valley and Mount Longdon (positioned on its reverse slope), and northward toward Murrell Valley. Support fire was to be provided by 106.6 mm mortars, with a detailed white point fire map.

According to Petty Officer Tejerina, the number of dead zones was “countless,” so double listening posts were established at 150 and 300 metres ahead of the main position. On that same day, Petty Officer Second Class Orozco, Corporal Second Class Daniel A. Carrasco, and additional ammunition and field equipment joined the company.

Tejerina celebrated his birthday on 17 April:

“That day, I received —right on time— a parcel from home with a 5 kg chocolate cake, which I shared with everyone, down to the last conscript. It coincided with Easter celebrations, for which the battalion logistics team (N.B.: referring to the ZOSERU – Unit Service Zone) had distributed plenty of chocolates, some Easter pastries, and cigarettes.
Celebrating birthdays wasn’t unusual — the company always celebrated them, at least since I joined. In Río Grande, we grouped birthdays by month, and even the Commander often attended those gatherings.”

 

Life on the Trenches

Tejerina states:

“The period we spent as reserve was active and exhausting. We not only had to establish our primary positions, but also set up two alternate positions, and plan and prepare for counterattacks toward Tumbledown and Sapper Hill.

What drained us most, however, was our proximity to BIM5’s command post — we were constantly assigned extra duties, such as transporting supplies or building positions for other units. That frustrated me, as these logistical burdens were contrary to tactical doctrine, which clearly states that frontline troops should not be used for such tasks.

I raised the issue with the Company Commander and the Battalion Sergeant Major, Petty Officer First Class Hernández, who acknowledged the problem but couldn’t resolve it. Fortunately, these tasks decreased as the battalion’s positions became more consolidated."

“Luckily, we had weekly access to showers at SPAC (the Amphibious Group’s logistics unit in Puerto Argentino) until 1 May. Afterwards, we took rest days in Puerto Argentino, also at SPAC’s shed. Not everyone managed to follow this routine, but it was still a relief.

We never lacked food. As reserve, we always had hot meals — even under fire. Oddly enough, everyone was constantly hungry and smoked heavily, perhaps due to tension. Cigarette rations had to be limited, and Charlie rations (combat rations) strictly monitored.

We had no issues with clothing distribution. I had a full reserve of kit for the company, stored in the lower compartment of each soldier’s 2-in-1 backpack, since our unit didn’t receive the TEMPEX backpacks, except for a few NCOs.

For building positions, we used the famous crowbars made in Río Grande, ordered by Sgt. Maj. Hernández, who had the foresight to see that our standard tools wouldn’t work with Malvinas soil.

Using materials to reinforce our positions became problematic. Troops sourced them from nearby structures in the settlement, prompting constant complaints from the Kelpers. The materials included posts, wires, metal sheets, timber, and 220-litre drums."

“As an anecdote: once, Midshipman Accountant Pellegrino, part of the ZOSERU, came to our company’s command post asking us to send a platoon to collect food he’d left 500 metres behind, as he couldn’t advance due to enemy fire. When we fetched the thermal food containers, they were riddled with shrapnel. They’d lost all liquid — but not the food. This sparked a surge of morale among the conscripts, who shouted:

¡Viva la Patria! Viva Midshipman Pellegrino!”

Malvinas: NCO in Combat

In Front of my Group of Twelve Soldiers

Malvinas: Historias de Coraje

Account of Second Corporal of the Marine Infantry "VGM" Conrado Augusto Olmos Matar


 


Since I was a young boy, I felt a calling to pursue a career in the armed forces — I wanted to become a policeman or a soldier. While I was in secondary school, a friend from my neighbourhood, Petty Officer Carlos Sequeira of the Navy, encouraged me to continue my studies in the Naval Forces. Some time later, personnel from the institution came to the province to promote the enrolment of people from Santiago into the Force. I didn’t let the opportunity pass and quickly submitted my application. After meeting the entry requirements, I joined the School for Marine Infantry Non-Commissioned Officers located in Punta Mogotes.

The first months were tough — like many from Santiago, I missed home, its customs, my loved ones and friends. Everything was new, everything was different. I felt alone among so many recruits from different parts of the country.



The training was so demanding that many of my comrades requested discharge; out of the initial group, only seventy-four of us graduated. More than once, I was on the verge of quitting, but thanks to the encouragement and support of a lieutenant named Alemán, I managed to persevere and graduated as a Second Corporal in 1980.

My first posting was to the 1st Marine Infantry Battalion in Puerto Belgrano, where I was welcomed by the Second-in-Command, Captain Giachino, and the Company Commander, Lieutenant Damore. From that point on, I began my first steps as an NCO, which mainly involved instructing a group of soldiers while continuing to develop my professional knowledge.

In 1981, I was placed in charge of preparing the Rocket Launcher Group, which consisted of twelve soldiers, including two from Santiago — Coronel and Gutiérrez. At the beginning of 1982, my group was assigned to Company "C" (Charlie), under a Non-Commissioned Officer named Gigena. I clearly remember being struck by the fact that, by that time of the year, the conscripts from the 1962 class had not yet been discharged and that training and exercises were still ongoing. Normally, during that period, operational activities decrease and are replaced by maintenance tasks.

On a warm morning in March, all staff NCOs were gathered on the unit’s parade ground, where Captain Giachino informed us that we were to prepare for embarkation in order to head to some islands to recover an Argentine vessel that had been seized by the British. All I could think was: we’re going to war. One joins the armed forces, and perhaps never gets called to fight — but for us, it was happening. I mentally reviewed all I had learned.



From that moment, we began our preparatory tasks, which mainly involved resupplying, organising field equipment, and stocking ammunition. We also practised shooting at the range daily and carried out final checks on our weapons. This preparation continued until we, the roughly one thousand men of the Marine Infantry Brigade, boarded the vessel Comandante Trizar.

Although we had all necessary comforts, the first few days were difficult due to the rough seas — even with our prior sailing experience, nearly all on board suffered the effects of seasickness.

Once we were at sea, all officers and NCOs were assembled to receive the operational orders. In general terms, our mission was to land and take the Falkland Islands, with the main objective of subduing the forces defending the Governor’s residence and removing its authorities. This mission would be carried out by the amphibious commandos, with support from us, the Marine Infantry. It was no easy task — we knew we would be facing professional soldiers with war experience from a global power. But the hardest part was the requirement to overcome the enemy without causing casualties — a very difficult objective, but one which, in the end, was achieved.

During the night of 1–2 April, we completed our final preparations, readying personnel and equipment for the landing. At that moment, I didn’t reflect on the historic significance of the mission we were about to carry out — my focus was solely on leading my men. I was absorbed by thoughts of how the operation would unfold, how I would respond to different scenarios, how my subordinates would react… So many questions, all waiting for the decisive moment of battle.

At first light, the operation began with an airborne landing via helicopters. My group’s objective was to head directly to the airport, participate in the assault, and then move towards Government House. We went in with clenched jaws, ready to fight.

When we arrived, there was no resistance — some British personnel had already been captured by forces that had landed before us. Although the situation in that area was under control, we still had to be extremely cautious due to the large number of mines and booby traps laid by the enemy.

While we waited at the airport for the rest of the battalion, we heard bursts of machine gun fire and explosions across different parts of the island. It was then I fully realised that the operation was underway and that we were in the midst of a serious armed conflict.

I remember, with great sadness, that while we were at the airport awaiting orders, a helicopter approached carrying the body of our Second-in-Command, Captain Giachino. He had fought heroically at the head of his troops during the most significant action on the island so far. The news deeply saddened us, but also filled us with fury — an Argentine had been killed, and it was someone from our own battalion.

Once our forces were fully assembled, we advanced on Government House to support the Amphibious Commandos. We surrounded the area to ensure none of the enemy — who had surrendered — could escape.



My next mission was to guard and later transport the prisoners back to the mainland, alongside my group and other personnel.

Back in Argentina, we began preparations for a new mission — reinforcing the defences in Tierra del Fuego. I was deployed there with other military units and remained until the war ended.

Although I spent only a short time in the Falklands, I feel immense pride at having participated in the recovery operations, leading a group of twelve soldiers, including my fellow countrymen Coronel and Gutiérrez, with whom I still share a warm friendship.

"As a Non-Commissioned Officer of the Navy, I had the honour of serving in the 1st Marine Infantry Battalion and being under the command of Captain Giachino — a true example of military virtue."

Malvinas: Sergeant First Class Héctor Ricardo Montellano, A Hero

A Little-Known Hero: Sergeant First Class Héctor Ricardo Montellano

As recounted by then Second Lieutenant Jiménez Corbalán

On the night of 8 June, while an attack was being launched against the 3rd Section, B Company, RI 4 under my command, the enemy struck the sector of my support group led by Sergeant Solís, killing Private Martiniano Gómez and wounding both the sergeant and Private Funes, in fierce fighting in which they had to employ rockets to dislodge my men. However, we managed to stop them and the British were unable to capture the entire sector. After a while, the battle had ground to a stalemate.

We had been engaged in heavy combat for nearly twenty minutes when a group of men from a section that had been attached to our company as reinforcements (they belonged to the Command and Services Company of the III Brigade, this section being composed of service personnel) arrived at my positions.

They were led by a sergeant whom I did not know. With a piercing gaze, this sergeant said to me: “Sir, I bring you a night sight sent by the company commander, and I place myself at your orders.” Much later, I learnt that this man was Sergeant First Class Héctor Ricardo Montellano. He had arrived with ten men, ready to go into action.

I gathered these men and explained that I would join them in carrying out a counter-attack to assist and clear the sector of my support group, which was under heavy pressure. Using the sight, I would mark targets with tracer fire so that we could then concentrate our fire together.

Our mission was extremely dangerous, as it consisted of advancing against the enemy while the remainder of my section supported us with covering fire. As I was finishing my explanation, British artillery fire began to fall, a clear sign that they wished to support their advance and secure the position they were attacking. Flattened to the ground, we kept firing upon them. Suddenly, we saw them beginning to reorganise, and I thought to myself: “It is now or never (before they regroup and launch their attack).”

At my signal, half of the group leapt forward with this sergeant at the front, while the other half provided covering fire. We then leapt ahead, passing the first group, and in this way we alternated, advancing in ten-metre bounds amidst tracer fire and the smell of gunpowder. This took the British by surprise, and our satisfaction was great when we saw them fall back.

After a short while, I checked with the night sight in a full 360°, and there were no enemies. Sergeant Montellano confirmed that his men were all safe and promptly reported to me. We exchanged glances, and I could see in his expression a hint of satisfaction. He then took his leave and returned to his sector.

This brave sergeant would lose his life on the night of 9 June, when an artillery shell struck his foxhole directly.

Mount Longdon: Corporal Second Class Colemil and His Conscripts

Corporal Second Class Colemil and His Conscripts

The Marines of the 12.7 mm Machine Gun Company, attached to the 7th Infantry Regiment (RI-7) on Mount Longdon, prepared the defence of their position as they were accustomed to: deep works with shelters, crawl trenches, ammunition depots, and so on—always working to perfect them. It was the best way to pass the time before going into combat, for they were convinced they would have to fight, and constant work was the best way to endure the wait, according to Marine Corps tradition. When the British assault came, they saw the wisdom of that attitude. Those who had not done so suffered needless casualties and could not fight effectively. 



Two days before the attack, Corporal Second Class Colemil went to the Marine Corps Combat Support Service, where Lieutenant Scotto told him: “Vizcacha” (another of Colemil’s nicknames), “here you have the night sights that have just arrived—take these for the rifles and for the machine guns.” Colemil took three rifle sights, giving one to his commanding officer, Lieutenant Dachary, another to Chief Corporal Lamas, and keeping the third for himself. He also carried six Litton sights for the machine guns and five or six head-mounted night vision devices, which turned out to be of little 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 westernmost on Mount Longdon), had escorted conscript Leiva—who was feeling unwell—to the aid post. Once checked and treated, Leiva was authorised to return to his position. On the way back, they passed Corporal Lamas’s machine gun, where Lamas warned Colemil: “Stay very alert. Don’t let your guard down; they could attack tonight.”

They carried on walking. When they reached the rest shelter, Colemil woke the relief shift, and with the two conscripts who had already completed their watch on the 12.7, began his nightly patrol. They paused briefly at the Army’s Racit radar (an infantry radar used to detect the enemy) and exchanged a few words with the sergeant operating it.

“Get into the dugout; they’re going to start firing,” the sergeant warned.

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 gunfire from the south, an action that facilitated the infiltration of British paratroopers. About a company’s worth of these paratroopers made their way through the minefields without triggering any devices. Silently, they infiltrated the sector occupied by 2nd Lieutenant Juan D. Baldini’s section of the Bravo Company, RI-7, whose frontage faced west on Mount Longdon.

Colemil and the two conscripts continued moving among the rocks until he stopped and looked west through his FAL rifle’s night sight. To his surprise, he saw a diffuse shape moving not far away. Uncertain, he aimed the FAL at the spot and fired a shot. In response, he heard the unmistakable chatter of a Sterling submachine gun. There was no mistake—it was the enemy, and they were close. At that moment, a paratrooper stepped on a mine; the scream and the explosion alerted all of Mount Longdon.

Once he had located the enemy, Colemil ran to the rest shelter and phoned Lieutenant Dachary’s command post.
—“Cobra, this is Araucano. Cobra, this is Araucano.”
—“Go ahead, Araucano.”
—“Attention, guns— we’re under attack, we’re under attack.”
—“Received.”

(The machine guns were connected to Lieutenant Dachary’s command post and also interlinked with each other.)

While Colemil was alerting his commander, the fighting spread. Thanks to the advantage of surprise, the British managed to gain a foothold at the western end of the mount, advancing with machine guns, rifles, and 66 mm and 84 mm rockets. The atmosphere was hellish. Colemil marked targets with tracer rounds from his rifle, aided by the night sight.

Suddenly—air raid alarm. The Argentine infantrymen dived into their foxholes, and as soon as the artillery fire ceased, they emerged to continue firing. Then more rounds came crashing in.

 

Outnumbered but Still Fighting

The paratroopers took advantage of the moments when their enemies were in the foxholes to advance, overrunning Colemil’s position, leaving him cut off and unable to contact Lieutenant Dachary’s men. Far from discouraged, Colemil kept firing the 12.7 mm, but before long the weapon jammed and was put out of action.

From then on, it was a long night for “the Araucano” Colemil—a brilliant corporal who, through determination and courage, caused the British many headaches and inflicted numerous casualties.

“Well, we’ve got rifles and plenty of ammunition,” he told conscripts Ferrandiz and Leiva, who had stayed with him. “Let’s blast them.”

“Corporal, there are hundreds of them,” said Ferrandiz.
“All right—we’ll let them pass and then hit them from behind.”

Suddenly, Colemil saw some British troops trying to set up a mortar. “These ones aren’t getting away,” he thought aloud and began firing at them, wounding one and forcing the rest to withdraw.

“Behind you, corporal!” shouted Leiva as three paratroopers charged towards them. Colemil spun round and fired a burst of about fifteen rounds. One Briton fell, and the other two, wounded, withdrew, shouting.

Lying prone, the corporal searched for enemies through the rifle sight. Whenever one came into view, he put him out of action. Alone, he caused havoc among those trying to take the Argentine positions in that sector of Longdon, while his conscripts supported him with their rifles. 



At one point, he saw the enemy attempting to recover a recoilless rifle that was near his position. He opened fire, saw one Briton fall, and then came under heavy retaliatory fire. “If I don’t fight, I’m dead,” he thought. He began crawling from position to position, opening fire whenever he spotted an enemy. He saw a Briton standing on a parapet with a bipod-fitted rifle, shot him down instantly, and then fired at his comrades trying to approach—likely to recover the weapon.

In an attempt to peer out for more targets, Colemil was hit— the bullet struck the front of his helmet, pierced it, entered his scalp, and stopped at the nape of his neck. A paratrooper, barely twenty metres away, had thrown a grenade which exploded nearby, but a rock had stopped the shrapnel. As Colemil rose to seek him through the sight, the same man fired at him, the projectile grazing his head.

(Because the wound ran from his forehead to the nape, Colemil earned the nickname “Piggy Bank.”)

He immediately felt something hot running down his face. Dazed, he tried to stand, but managed to recover the rifle in time. As soon as his attacker appeared from behind a rock, he aimed at his chest and fired. The Briton let out a cry of pain and fell heavily on his back, arms spread.

“Corporal, let’s bandage your head,” said Ferrandiz.
“Yes, but quickly—we can’t stop firing.”
“We’re cut off. We can’t hold out much longer.”

By 3 a.m., they were also under friendly artillery fire, their own side believing the position had been taken by the British.

“Corporal, why don’t we surrender?” both conscripts said at once.
“No way. I won’t be taken prisoner. I’ve no wish to have my throat cut.”
“But, corporal—”
“I’d rather shoot myself than be taken prisoner.”
“Then let’s withdraw,” insisted the conscripts.

“All right, let’s go. We’ll link up with Corporal Lamas.”
“I’ll get you a helmet, corporal.”
“No, forget the helmet. Let’s move.”

Crouching low, they tried to leave the position, covering a few metres before being forced back by rifle fire. Colemil had put up a fierce resistance; it was clear they had his position pinpointed.

At around 03:00 hours, Corporal Colemil decided to fall back to the Bravo Company, RI-7 command post, seizing a momentary lull. The three men took the opportunity to move out, but again came under fire. The two conscripts escaped, but Colemil was shot in the leg. He tried to crawl away, but after a few metres, he lost consciousness.

When the British advanced, they left him where he was, assuming him dead. Corporal Second Class Colemil was taken prisoner and only regained consciousness aboard the British hospital ship Uganda, where surgeons fitted a platinum plate to his skull.

That night of 11 June 1982, he expended all five FAL rifle magazines and reloaded twice. British publications mention a “sniper” who caused them many casualties—very likely Corporal Carlos Rafael Colemil himself.

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