Malvinas: Height 234 and the 21-Day March

Height 234 and the 21-Day March

What took the Güemes Combat Team three days of marching and a helicopter flight cost Section “Gato” 21 days, physical deformities, lower-limb amputations, and, ultimately, surrender. After arriving in the San Carlos area, First Lieutenant Daniel Esteban deployed an advance element to warn of and ambush a potential British landing. On Tuesday 18 May, Second Lieutenant Roberto Oscar Reyes was due to relieve Second Lieutenant José Alberto Vásquez at the so-called Height 234, or Fanning Head according to British cartography. Section “Gato” consisted of four NCOs and 15 soldiers: the group of 21 infantrymen marched 14 kilometres towards the mouth of the strait with the mission of “providing early warning to the Force and, once reinforced with heavy weapons, ambushing any British troops that might enter through the channel”.

“The previous night was much like the ones before it, that is to say freezing and with very poor visibility — you couldn’t see two metres ahead,” recalled Reyes, who at the time was 25 years old and had four years of military training. Half an hour before Thursday turned into Friday, a soldier posted on security duty informed him that he could hear noises in the channel: conversations in English and acoustic signals coming from the mouth of the strait. The second lieutenant confirmed the suspicion: vessels were moving silently and with their lights off towards San Carlos.

The group of soldiers had two 81 mm mortars and two 105 mm recoilless guns to carry out the ambush. Reyes issued orders to prepare for combat and warned of the imminent opening of fire. But the first thing he tried to do was establish communication with First Lieutenant Daniel Esteban at the San Carlos command post. The batteries in the radio, after three days exposed to the cold, had very little charge left: the call went through, they could hear them, but they could not be heard in return. “This is Gato, this is Gato,” they said, unsuccessfully. The attempt at communication, and the subsequent explosion of the shells, may already have been warning enough.

A few minutes after two in the morning on Friday 21 May 1982 came their baptism of fire. The ships were within mortar range, but visibility was almost non-existent. “A few improper lights could be seen on deck and some conversations could be clearly heard carrying across the water; the fleet continued its stealthy advance and apparently had not detected us,” Reyes described. He ordered fire to be opened with the mortars using illumination rounds in order to determine the exact location and improve the effectiveness of the guns. But the strategy failed and the element of surprise was lost: the rounds did not light up the trajectory, and their own position was revealed by the flash of the shot. “From the moment the firing began until around three in the morning, I ordered several changes of position until the mortar ammunition was exhausted. From then on, the enemy reaction became more intense,” the second lieutenant later wrote in a personal account. Enemy fire was beginning to find the Argentine soldiers’ position. It was time to withdraw: “I ordered preparations for the retreat to begin. I was convinced that we had fulfilled the mission of alerting our forces and ambushing the British.” In perfect Spanish, a spokesman from a British ground patrol called on them to surrender. “They told us they were part of a battalion that had landed and that they would not harm us if we gave ourselves up, that we were surrounded and would not be able to get out, that we should hand over our weapons. This psychological action by the British had exactly the opposite effect on all of us: it made us want to break contact, withdraw, and rejoin our forces in San Carlos,” Reyes recalled. It had been more than three hours of intermittent, varied, but sustained attack.

Of the 21 combatants, only 11 remained together. The wounded and those who had gone missing amid the confusion of the withdrawal and counter-action had been captured as prisoners of war: none had been killed. The British were still searching for them and were so close that it seemed incredible they had not spotted them. They had just 40 rounds per man left. Their hiding place became a privileged front-row seat from which to watch Argentine aircraft attacking the British fleet of 17 ships.

On the first night they set out south-eastwards towards Puerto Argentino, following the coastline. They walked at night, covering roughly 3 kilometres a day. “We had no protection from the cold other than the clothes we were wearing. The damp, thick mist was always present; at times it was indistinguishable from a fine, freezing drizzle,” the second lieutenant recounted. Fear and the instinct for survival masked the hunger and the anguish. To escape a detachment of 15 British soldiers, they had to cross an inlet of the sea with soldiers who could not swim. They lost rifles, and Corporal Hugo Godoy nearly drowned, but the worst came afterwards: soaked clothing and the certainty of permanent cold.

Trench foot and gangrene were advancing rapidly in three soldiers. Godoy, Moyano and Cepeda needed urgent medical attention. They were left in the care of Clot, the soldier in the best physical condition, with enough food for two days, a first-aid kit, and orders to delay enemy pursuit by a day so as to give the other seven combatants time to continue their feat.

After marching for five nights, they reached a small settlement identified as New House, apparently deserted. “We were a truly pitiful group. Our clothes were in tatters, we were ill, our faces disfigured by suffering. None of us was older than 25, yet we looked like a group of wandering old men,” Reyes recounted. On the 21st day of the epic attempt to reach their own lines, they were woken by a full section that had encircled the settlement: a kelper hidden on the property had betrayed them. “From a position in the shed, I had a British soldier in my sights, and I told my men to do the same with others, but not to fire until I gave the order,” he described. Reyes calls himself a “professional soldier”: “I was prepared for the worst, and if I had ordered fire to be opened, those soldiers, though at the very end of their strength, would have done so. But I turned around and looked at them: we had lost the capacity to fight, we were in no condition to withstand even the slightest attack and get out of the place. I decided this was the end of our war; the time had come to surrender. I walked outside and laid down my weapon.”

Section “Gato” never managed to return to Puerto Argentino or reunite with the Güemes Combat Team. It was 11 June 1982: three days later, the Malvinas War would come to an end. The landing at San Carlos remains a source of pride for First Lieutenant Carlos Daniel Esteban and Second Lieutenant Roberto Oscar Reyes. It matters little that the operation was successful for the British troops. Such were the symptoms of an unbelievable war.

Puedo hacerte también una versión más literaria, más periodística, o más fiel al tono militar original.

San Carlos Landing: Accounts of the Troops of the 12th Regiment

Accounts of the Landing at San Carlos

By former Second Lieutenant “VGM” José Alberto Vázquez

Malvinas: Historias de Coraje




I was in command of a section of the 12th Regiment. On 15 May, in the Goose Green area, I embarked with my section aboard an Argentine Air Force Chinook helicopter, together with one 105 mm recoilless gun and two 81 mm mortars. Destination: somewhere in the north of the island. Two hours earlier, First Lieutenant Esteban and Second Lieutenant Reyes had done the same with their rifle section. At approximately 15:30 we arrived north of Height 234. The disembarkation was very rapid, as there were CAPs (combat air patrols) in the area. “Tell me where my commanding officer is,” I asked the vice commodore in charge of the helicopter. He replied that he had been unable to pick up First Lieutenant Esteban because of the notorious CAPs, and that he was on the other side of the height. The Chinook lifted off heavily and disappeared behind the rise.

We were left in absolute silence, feeling only the cold wind striking our faces. I was alone with my soldiers at the north-western tip of East Malvina; the sky was covered by a great mass of grey clouds, but on the far side of the strait one could clearly make out West Malvina. Behind me was the famous Height 234 (where Reyes, with 20 soldiers, would fight a short and violent battle against British commandos), and before me the immense Atlantic Ocean; and beyond that, Buenos Aires, where my wife and son were. I quickly abandoned my thoughts and organised the defence of the position. I had no idea whatsoever where the rest of the combat team was, and I needed to make contact as soon as possible, as I had less than two hours of daylight left. This task took me 45 minutes.

I left the section with its senior NCO and set off with Private Alberto Espinosa and Corporal Mansilla to look for the rest of the detachment. Strictly speaking, I should have sent out a patrol, but in real combat situations, and at the lowest command level (section), every activity was either led by the commander of the detachment or it was not done at all. That would become a defining characteristic from then on. There are circumstances in which the smallest tactical-level unit must divide. That is why, in war, the figure of the sergeant (section senior NCO) becomes fundamentally important in leading the section if necessary.

Armed with our personal weapons and ration bags, we began marching south, skirting the height on its eastern side. After 15 minutes of marching, we came upon a great stretch of water jutting eastwards into the island like a wedge. There was no trace of the detachment, only a small light visible on the far side of the strait (3 km away) to the south, and to the east, along the coast, a tiny glimmer that occasionally disappeared. There was no alternative but to head towards it.

The ground near the coast was full of irregularities, but I could not abandon the only point of reference I had, because I had neither compass nor map of the area, night was already closing in, and I had not the slightest idea where I was. After four hours of marching in pitch darkness, we came upon a small settlement, the first house 100 metres from our position. I knew that enemy special forces (SAS and SBS) were operating on the island, and I had to take the necessary precautions. For that reason I left my two men covering me from that position while I carried out a reconnaissance. Through one of the windows I saw a man and a woman having dinner. After giving the agreed signal, we entered the house, to the fright of its occupants. With my poor English I managed to learn that the place was San Carlos settlement and that Argentine soldiers had been occupying it since midday.

I left the NCO in the house and had the man accompany me to the bivouac of the supposed Argentines, with my pistol held 10 cm from the back of his neck. When I heard, “Halt, who goes there?”, I calmed down, and the kelper breathed again. I offered the appropriate apologies and joined my commanding officer. We spent the night there. First Lieutenant Esteban brought me up to date on the mission: in the event of a landing, we were to provide early warning and defend the position. He had established San Carlos settlement as the base and the observation post on Height 234. The combat team would be divided into three groups of 20 men, and together with Second Lieutenant Reyes (we called him Chelco) we would rotate; reliefs would take place every two days. The first shift would be under my command.

As my combat role weapon was a PA3 machine-pistol, Esteban had given me, before we left Goose Green, an Enfield .303 rifle with a case full of ammunition; thus, together with Private Espinosa, who did not carry an FAL because he was a radio operator, we formed an inseparable pair for the rest of the war, as he would be responsible for keeping me supplied with ammunition and I would be his shield of fire with that splendid Second World War rifle.

Before dawn, we drank some hot mate and set off for the post on Height 234 with First Lieutenant Esteban and 20 men. We arrived after two and a half hours of marching, and once the defence had been organised, Esteban and a group of men returned to base.

It was 16 May and my first wedding anniversary. Right then, two men set off and returned with a lamb, which we spitted and roasted using posts broken off from a wire fence. I had brought several packs of tinned soft drinks hidden in empty projectile boxes; I had borrowed them the night before departure from the store kept in the stone house (the command post of Task Force “Mercedes”) at Goose Green. Eight kilometres away lay the base of Combat Team “Güemes”, at Port San Carlos. The route was extremely difficult: stones, peat, and streams that could scarcely be seen, which made movement very hard indeed.

On the 17th I awoke very early, at first light, put water in my helmet, washed my face and teeth, and combed my hair. I heated a little water in my mug and prepared some mates. We had improvised the mate cup out of a soft-drink tin cut in half, and the bombilla was an empty BIC pen with the white cap and a few holes made with a heated nail.

At around 10:30, Second Lieutenant Reyes arrived with the relief. He had sprained his ankle. They were quite tired, and I offered them cold lamb and Coca-Cola. Chelco laughed and said to me: “You’re the only one who could welcome me with such a feast at the end of the earth, Rat.” And he embraced me. Rat was the nickname they had given me at the Military College, because I always found ways of getting hold of provisions, finding somewhere to curl up, and sleeping whenever possible.

Before leaving, we agreed to carry out the relief every five days because of the great wear and tear caused by marching across such terrain. I handed my helmet over to Reyes because he did not have one; the men of RI 25 wore berets. I then returned with my men to the base, with one less problem on my mind. At Goose Green I had had a fairly heated argument with a more senior officer who wanted me to wear my helmet in order to set an example to the troops, and he became quite angry when I told him that the example ought to be set by him, sleeping and eating rations with his men rather than under a roof in a house, as he had been doing.

At San Carlos we lived relatively well compared with the point on the strait. The inhabitants carried on with their normal lives, and we had to buy sugar, flour, and other things from them at market prices — their market prices, depending on how they happened to feel that day. Through our communications equipment (a Yaesu FT-101, a radio amateur set requisitioned from the kelpers in Darwin), I was able to speak with my wife.

On the morning of the 19th, sweeping frequencies, I picked up Belgrano II Antarctic Army Base communicating with the Antarctic Command. Since January, my wife’s cousin, engineer Gustavo Fossati, had been stationed there. In a matter of minutes, they established a radiotelephone connection with my in-laws’ house, and I was able to hear news of my family.

On several occasions during the night, enemy helicopters flew over us on reconnaissance missions, and with increasing frequency. That, together with other factors such as the geographical characteristics of the place, indicated that the enemy would carry out some action against our positions, and would do so soon.

On the night of the 20th, while I was organising my patrol for the next day’s relief on the 21st, the enemy began an intense preparatory, or softening-up, bombardment on various points of the island. Over the radio we heard several posts confirming those attacks. Lieutenant Esteban called me and informed me that he had changed the plans. A landing was now obvious. I had to send an NCO and a soldier to Height 234, with the համապատասխան communications set (Thompson), to give early warning in the event of a British landing. Reyes had to withdraw to our base with the men and the mortars, in order to form a defence with the whole combat team on the heights behind us. Unfortunately, we had no engineering tools, but the position was highly advantageous.

At approximately 01:30 we heard a great explosion in the distance and, 20 minutes later, an attempted transmission from Reyes. Then absolute silence. Before dawn, I woke the men who were to relieve Reyes. At first light they would begin the march. With the first daylight I was checking the radio and the weapons they would carry when a soldier posted 150 metres away on the upward slope of a rise began shouting for us. The sight was astonishing. Where only hours earlier a few seagulls had circled above the calm waters at the mouth of the San Carlos River, there were now five frigates surrounding a ship ten times larger (the Queen Elizabeth), and landing craft heading towards Ajax Bay and towards Port San Carlos, which was our position.

At approximately 600 metres, one could see an advance element of the British 2nd Parachute Regiment beginning its approach in combat formation towards our positions. As we ran down at full speed, Esteban said to me: “Gather everyone and form two groups, the one on the left under your command and the one on the right under mine.”

We had less than five minutes left to take up position on the north-eastern heights. While Esteban communicated with the commander of III Brigade to report events, I organised the two columns. I remember the soldiers looking at me with wide eyes, tense faces, and quickened breathing, waiting for orders. For an instant I remembered the telegram from my father received a few days earlier: “Your wife, an example of fortitude. Your son healthy and strong. Be an example to your soldiers.” I felt my heart pounding madly, as though it were about to burst. It had never happened to me before. It was fear, a great deal of fear, and suddenly I found myself giving orders, I do not know how.

We began moving with only our weapons, with the enemy entering the small settlement. Had we not done so, it would have been a massacre, for they would have pinned us with their advance and overrun us with the helicopter we shot down minutes later; tactically, we would have been lost. What might have happened afterwards, only God knows. The fact is that Esteban’s decision was the right one. For when we reached the summit, we saw a Sea King attempting to land behind our base. First Lieutenant Esteban ordered: “Open fire!” The aircraft was hit and turned orange from the tracers striking it, then collapsed from low height (5 or 6 metres).

At that moment I saw Esteban begin a change of position. I followed him. I believe what worried Esteban was being pinned down: 42 men with two machine guns and ammunition for one hour of combat against a landing force which, from what we could see, numbered 400 men in our sector — 2 Para Battalion — supported by naval artillery and helicopters.

The ground before us consisted of small ridgelines 70 to 100 metres high, with a general slope down towards the river. Our direction of movement was parallel to the river and perpendicular to the ridgelines, generally west to east. We went up and down. We were descending a gentle slope; the mist had already lifted and we had good visibility, when the second helicopter appeared, this time a Gazelle with rocket pods on its sides. It came along the river, which is quite wide there. At that moment the two columns were parallel to the river, separated by 60 to 70 metres from one another. Mine was the furthest away, about 100 metres from the shore.

The attack began with the first shot fired by First Lieutenant Esteban, as agreed: concentrated FAL fire. That is the combat tactic against aerial targets when one has no missiles. It seemed that what my first-year instructor at the Military College, First Lieutenant Abete, had taught me actually worked. The aircraft crashed into the water. The soldiers shouted every kind of epithet as the helicopter sank.

At a signal from Esteban, I carried out another change of position. At that moment, enemy mortar fire began falling on our initial position. We crossed another ridgeline and a third helicopter appeared, another Gazelle. There was no longer any need to issue orders: the conscripts were already behaving like veterans, they knew what to do. But the aircraft spotted our position and manoeuvred to bring fire to bear. When it dipped its nose to take aim, we once again emptied the whole magazine at the same time and at the same target. As the ammunition was tracer — that is, one could see the trajectory of the projectile as a trail of fire — it looked as though it were being attacked with a flamethrower. By then several of the soldiers were firing from one knee or even standing up.

The Gazelle passed over the first column and flew completely out of control towards my column. Everything happened so quickly that there was no time to move. It crashed 15 metres in front of me. The soldiers’ shouting was uncontrollable: “LONG LIVE THE NATION, DAMN IT!”, mixed with some sapucai cries and various other words, was heard until a crewman emerged from the machine and many of us opened fire on him. He was defenceless, he posed no danger to my soldiers. Why did we kill him? I still feel deep anguish over that death. Although I know that in the emotional state we were all in, the only thing one thinks of is firing and firing and firing until nothing moves. Besides, moments earlier he had wanted to kill us, so at the time it seemed just.

The mortar fire continued, but it was obvious that they did not have our location, since it was falling on the previous position and the shape of the ground was shielding us. We crossed a great rise, like a headland, projecting into the wide San Carlos River, and found ourselves at a cliff 10 or 15 metres high. We climbed down with difficulty and took up position among the rocks beside the shore. We could already hear the engine of another helicopter. It appeared round the side of the headland, as though searching for us along the coast, but our cover was excellent and we let it come closer. When it entered range we opened fire again. It began to fall and we stopped shooting. Before hitting the water, the pilot managed to lift it and cross the headland, crashing on the far side.

We were too far away to expect reinforcements. It was clear that what we had to do was withdraw until we made contact with our own troops, 80 km away. We had no ammunition, provisions, or equipment for sleeping out in the open. We were all on the alert, waiting to see what the enemy’s next move would be, when we heard an aircraft approaching, and within seconds it passed at great speed and very low towards the enemy positions. It was an Aermacchi; later we learned it was being flown by Lieutenant Crippa. He had taken off as soon as our warning was received. It was the first aircraft to arrive and drop its bombs and fire its machine guns at a frigate.

At that moment I felt great relief and thought: “Now we’ll throw the whole air force at them and, in five hours, our commandos and B Company of RI 12, which is in reserve at Port Stanley, will counter-attack.” That was merely the thought of a second lieutenant. We had suffered no casualties. The British had lost four helicopters and nearly a dozen men.

We decided to wait to see whether we had any news of Reyes; besides, it was a safe place in which to catch our breath and clear our heads. Second Lieutenant Reyes and his group had fought a short and violent battle in the early hours of 21 May. He first endured naval bombardment on his positions and then an attack by the Special Boat Squadron (SBS), naval commandos, and several amphibious armoured vehicles. In that action he suffered six casualties.

Given the scale of the landing, and having lost almost half his men, he decided, taking advantage of the poor visibility of the night, to try to break out of the encirclement closing around him in order to avoid annihilation. He succeeded 24 hours later and began a withdrawal that lasted almost 20 days, with no food, exposed to the elements, and suffering severe health problems, to the point that, with a penknife, he had to amputate a corporal’s foot. Port Stanley had already fallen, and Reyes, with the five starving soldiers he had left, malnourished and some already without teeth because of decalcification, was finally surrounded by British forces who demanded his surrender.

He asked his soldiers whether they were willing to fight. But they did not answer; they simply awaited their commander’s order, as always. Reyes, knowing he had not the slightest chance of success, surrendered. In Buenos Aires, when two years later we met again and told each other what we had lived through, he said that it was the expression on those five faces that led him to surrender on that occasion.

Later, we began a slow withdrawal eastwards and by dusk reached an outpost of San Carlos settlement. But that is another story.

Malvinas: The Fall of Gazelle XX-411 Under Güemes Team’s Fierce Fire

A Unique Photo… and Why It Matters

This photo is unique because the British NEVER show their dead—by law. In stark contrast, we have been bombarded with images of our fallen, displayed as trophies by them. To put it into perspective, the contingent of journalists embedded with British forces during the war was strictly forbidden from photographing bodies—unless they were already inside a body bag.

Now, let’s analyze this moment: May 21, 1982.

The wreckage belongs to the Gazelle helicopter of 3BAS, shot down by the brave men of Equipo Güemes (Güemes Combat Team), stationed in San Carlos. That day, they didn’t just take down this aircraft—they brought down three more helicopters. After the battle, they managed to break through the British encirclement and reached an estancia called Douglas, in the center of the island. There, on May 25, they formed up to honor Argentina’s national day before being airlifted to Puerto Argentino. Legendary footage by Eduardo Rotondo captures their arrival, where they were greeted with chocolates by Colonel Seineldín himself.

That same day, May 21, as British troops were landing, Sea King helicopters were transporting components of a Rapier surface-to-air missile launcher. One of these Sea Kings came under concentrated Argentine fire from a hill defended by Lieutenant Esteban (RI-25) and Sub-Lieutenant Vázquez (RI-12). The aircraft was forced into an emergency landing.

Then came the Gazelle XX-411, piloted by Sergeants Andy Evans (Royal Marines) and Eddy Candlish, rushing to assist. But as it approached, it was met with a relentless storm of Argentine gunfire. It crashed into the water—Evans perished, while Candlish managed to swim to shore, where kelpers helped him.

The British response was immediate. Another Gazelle, XX-402, armed with rocket pods, was dispatched to the battlefield. Lieutenant Ken D. Francis RM and his co-pilot, Corporal Brett Giffin, were at the controls. But once again, the Argentine riflemen struck with precision. The helicopter was torn apart by FAL fire, crashing at Punta Camarones, killing both men on board.

And that’s what we see in the photo: the shattered XX-402, guarded by a sentry. The lifeless bodies of the pilots lie on the ground.

Approaching rapidly, with his back to the camera, is Dr. Rick Jolly, the British medic who was later decorated by Argentina for saving the lives of countless soldiers—a true man of honor.

This image holds countless details of significance: the rocket pods, the antennas, the helmets… every element a silent witness to that day.

And there was yet another Gazelle—XX-412—that came in for a direct attack on our troops. It, too, was hit by Argentine fire. According to British reports, it managed to withdraw and was later repaired.

That afternoon, four British helicopters were knocked out of combat—by just a handful of brave men.

This isn’t just history. This is the untold story of courage, strategy, and sacrifice.

Source: Pucará de Malvinas

Malvinas: Owen Crippa Attacked the Fleet All Alone

Malvinas: The Argentine Marines' Reconnaissance Mission at San Carlos Landing

An Unnecesary Recce

Revised version, 8/2/11



On May 26, 1982, an Amphibious Commando patrol arrived in the San Carlos area, departing from Puerto Argentino on the 24th of the same month. Their approach took them through terrain predominantly controlled by the enemy, resulting in significant casualties. Nevertheless, they valiantly accomplished their mission. In this anecdote, I aim to underscore a particular episode from this patrol's actions, highlighting the exceptional professionalism and sacrifice exhibited by these brave Marines.

Amid the Malvinas Conflict, the British executed a large-scale landing on May 21 in the vicinity of the San Carlos settlement on Soledad Island. After securing the beachhead, they launched a dual-pronged advance. One branch moved eastward with the objective of retaking Puerto Argentino, our primary base, while the other moved southward in the direction of Darwin.

In Puerto Argentino, located 75 km east of San Carlos, the knowledge regarding the British landing was minimal. This included uncertainty about whether it represented their principal effort or if additional operations were in progress. The Argentine leadership grappled with significant challenges in obtaining information about the enemy's movements. Multiple factors contributed to this complexity, including limited daylight hours – just 8 hours and 30 minutes at the end of May – coupled with extensive cloud cover and morning fog. Furthermore, the British held almost complete control over the airspace. Added to these issues was the severe constraint on land mobility, as vehicles couldn't be employed, and foot travel was restricted to a mere 1 km/h during daylight hours and a slower 0.5 km/h at night. In stark contrast, enemy patrols enjoyed unrestricted movement supported by their dominance in the air and at sea.

Nevertheless, despite these adversities, the military command in Puerto Argentino made the decision to dispatch three land patrols to San Carlos with the mission of "clarifying operational activity in the area."

One of these patrols was composed of Navy Amphibious Commando Non-Commissioned Officers stationed in Puerto Argentino.

In a reconnaissance mission, a faction known as the "Pereyra" was established under the leadership of Lieutenant Commander Dante Camiletti, alongside First Corporal IM Pablo Alvarado and Second Corporals IM Omar A. López and Pedro C. Verón.

Amphibious Commando Jesús Pereyra

Guided by Marine Lieutenant Commander Dante Juan Manuel Camiletti, who volunteered to lead the patrol despite not being an Amphibious Commando, the "Pereyra" Patrol was established. This decision arose because the rest of the Amphibious Commandos were in Rio Gallegos (Santa Cruz), preparing for a possible Malvinas incursion as part of "Operation Vulture."

On May 24, the patrol boarded two Argentine Army helicopters and were transported to Chata Hill, approximately 50 km west of Puerto Argentino. This strategic move aimed to minimize the patrol's overland journey, considering the proximity of the enemy.

Upon reaching Chata Hill, they set up a Reduced Patrol Base (BPR) and concealed a portion of their equipment and supplies to reduce their load. This base served as a rendezvous point after the completion of their mission. They retained only essential items such as sleeping bags, a substantial quantity of ammunition, and easily transportable supplies, including chocolates, cigarettes, cookies, candy, broth, and alcohol pills.

They waited for nightfall to initiate their movements. On the night of May 24 to 25, under a light drizzle, they embarked on their journey towards Bombilla Hill, a prominent elevation that provided a vantage point overlooking the eastern end of the San Carlos estuary and Montevideo Hill, their ultimate destination.

From the vicinity of Bombilla Hill, they observed intense enemy activity already present on Montevideo Hill. It was apparent that the height was occupied, with the sounds of machinery audible and enemy helicopters engaged in cargo transport and patrol missions. Therefore, they decided against establishing a Patrol Base and Observatory on Montevideo Hill and instead chose to head towards Cerro Tercer Corral, a significant height located further southwest, from which they believed the mission could be effectively carried out.

Already in these first movements, the need to maintain the marching discipline typical of the Amphibious Commandos was noted and that the speed that Captain Camiletti wanted to impose, which threatened some of the unnecessary friction between the boss and his subordinates, threatened this procedure. when they understand and put into practice different doctrines.

The most senior Commando Non-Command Officer (Basualdo) demands adherence to procedures given the evident proximity of the enemy "who was everywhere" according to one of the Commando Corporals.

On their march to Tercer Corral they were overflown several times by 2 Harriers.

During the fording of a branch of the San Carlos River, they lost part of their equipment and lightened the rest, while at the same time they were completely soaked. They continued their brand practically with what they had.

On Wednesday, May 26, Cerro Tercer Corral was reached and a BPR was established. The Observation Post was located with a good view of Cerro Montevideo and Puerto San Carlos. Until now, it had not been possible to establish radio communications with Puerto Argentino.

Captain Camiletti moved forward to complete the table of information they were obtaining. Enthusiastic, he possibly exposed himself a little more than necessary, a fact that led to strong changes of opinion with the more senior Commandos.

Based on the analysis of the general situation (to which is added the situation previously explained) it was decided to divide the Patrol.

A part ("Basualdo Fraction", made up of the Marine Infantry Non-Commissioned Officers Miguel Ángel Basualdo and Ramón López and the Marine Corps Chiefs Juan Héctor Márquez, Osvaldo César Ozán, Juan Carrasco and Pedro Baccili) would return to Puerto Argentino with the important information collected and the rest with Captain Camiletti ("Pereyra Fraction": Chief Nurse Corporal Jesús A. Pereyra, First Corporal of the Marine Infantry Pablo Alvarado and the Second Corporals of the Marine Infantry Omar A. López and Pedro C. Verón) , will remain in the area trying to further expand the picture of the enemy.

The return of the Basualdo Patrol was marked by a series of significant events. During one of their movements, Chief Corporal Juan Carrasco was captured in Teal Inlet. Basualdo had to carefully navigate around the British columns heading in the same direction. This situation forced the patrol to virtually trail behind the British units while successfully avoiding direct contact with the enemy, despite the British's awareness of the presence of our commandos in their area following Carrasco's capture.

Their paramount concern was to reestablish contact with their own lines, which remained unaware of this patrol's existence. Fortunately, they encountered Argentine Army commandos who were operating ahead of their frontlines. Sergeant Cisneros served as the crucial connection that allowed them to re-enter their own defensive lines without incident, and this occurred on Sunday, May 30.

Subsequently, things proceeded relatively smoothly, and they could relay their invaluable collected information to the higher command. Tragically, Sergeant Cisneros later fell into an enemy ambush.

The remaining commandos who stayed in Tercer Corral under the leadership of Captain Camileti began their march on May 26 toward Montes Verdes, which was approximately 300 meters to the west, bringing them closer to the San Carlos settlement. The following day, they ascended the height at dawn and established a Reduced Patrol Base (BPR).

Using night scopes, they observed the enemy positioned on the topographic ridge of that same height. The decision was made to leave the patrol in that location while Captain Camiletti and Chief Corporal Pereyra advanced to gain a better vantage point to monitor the enemy's movements. Corporal Pereyra pointed out the danger to Camiletti if they were discovered, and following this, Captain Camiletti ordered Pereyra to rejoin the rest of the patrol. He then tried to advance further in the early morning light.

The remaining members of the patrol, along with Corporal Pereyra, clearly witnessed the enemy's actions on the heights and soon heard gunfire. They correctly assumed that Captain Camiletti had been detected and promptly initiated their return as previously agreed upon with the Captain.



Moment of capture of Cap. Camiletti (IMARA)

As they marched back, they noticed that the enemy forces were positioned in a chain, cautiously advancing and remaining highly alert.

Within our patrol, three commandos concealed themselves in a waterlogged well. They huddled together with freezing water up to their waists, using some tufts of grass that they had fortunately managed to place over themselves for cover. Pereyra, Alvarado, López, and Verón were the four fighters who remained hidden in the watery wells. The first three positioned themselves in a row, squatting low inside a flooded well with water up to their waists and concealed beneath tufts of grass they had arranged over their heads. Corporal Verón, having no opportunity to enter the well, lay on his back with his rifle resting on his chest in a shallow, 20-centimeter-deep depression within a stream. He, too, was hidden beneath grass and branches. The enemy forces virtually passed right over them without discovering their presence.

As darkness fell and they had spent several hours in these concealed positions, their bodies had gone numb from the frigid water. Suddenly, a rifle shot rang out from the right, followed by a volley of gunfire directed towards the valley where our men were hidden. Fortunately, the enemy's rounds sailed over the heads of the Amphibious Commandos. Were they conducting a suppressive fire operation? This was followed by around 30 minutes of eerie silence, broken by the constant movement of helicopters in the area.

For the Amphibious Commandos, nightfall presented the most favorable opportunity to disengage from their concealed positions.

Only with the darkness of the night and after spending many hours in the icy water were they able to get out of the position, first crawling because their legs were numb from the cold, then crawling to regain movement, then finally crouching to continue the escape. They also marched among British troops heading to Puerto Argentino.

The following is a personal conversation I had with Jesús Pereyra, a resident of Pehuen Có, a beach located 80km from Bahía Blanca. Pereyra had been in the Malvinas since Operation Rosario, and he and his fellow soldiers were seasoned personnel. In contrast, Camiletti was a recently commissioned officer who lacked any practical field experience. However, due to his officer status, he was assigned to lead the forward observation mission.

Pereyra recounted that the mission seemed purposeless from the outset. Its objective was to confirm the British landing, even though the BBC had already reported it and had subsequently aired live images. Owen Grippa had, in fact, flown over the area in an MBB326 and attacked HMS Argonaut, thus confirming the British presence. Nevertheless, naval commanders approved the mission. Upon learning of this, Pereyra realized it was essentially a suicide mission. As a result, he refrained from seeking volunteers and instead enlisted all the group members. No one wanted to be individually responsible for leading someone to certain death; they preferred to face the risk together.

Camiletti was inadequately prepared, even carrying his provisions in a conspicuous fluorescent orange Antarctic backpack. Shortly after the mission began, Pereyra and his comrades informed Camiletti that they would "interpret" his orders due to his lack of combat experience, as they were unwilling to unquestioningly follow commands they deemed ill-suited. The patrol covertly reached the San Carlos beaches and verified the British presence, subsequently sending a report to Puerto Argentino. Despite this confirmation, Camiletti insisted on approaching the British forces more closely. This is why he was captured alone, while the non-commissioned officers were not. The image of Camiletti, hooded with a jacket and a Sterling submachine gun aimed at his head, became widely known around the world.



Capture of Cap. Camiletti (IMARA)

Captain Camiletti's account, as conveyed to this author, contradicts the assertion that he volunteered for the mission. Instead, he states that he assumed command of the patrol for nearly two months. During this time, he arranged their lodgings, secured a vehicle for their transportation, and motivated the team to overcome their reluctance, as some were hesitant about embarking on daily missions. His objective was to engage in daily exploratory excursions along the coastline, search for potential infiltrators in areas near the sea, and prepare nighttime ambushes in locations conducive to English patrol landings. Concerning his capture and the rationale behind his solo advancement towards the English positions, he explained, "The members who returned did so due to exhaustion and their unwillingness to continue the advance. Those who remained behind were only those with relatively better physical condition, and I had to insist that they stay" (personal communication, 03/24/11).



Following the capture of the Argentine officer and the heightened state of alert among English troops, a remarkable incident occurred: British forces passed within inches of the Argentine soldiers without detecting them. Their concealment was a crevice in the earth from which a shallow, 40 cm-deep spring emerged. The three of them remained there from 8 AM one day until 2 AM the following day, enduring the wet conditions of the Malvinas' climate.

On that very day, they embarked on a journey toward Two Sisters Hill, which served as the re-entry point into the Argentine-controlled territory. Progress was painstakingly slow as they were closely trailed by patrols from the SAS and RM.

Upon reaching Two Sisters Hill, Pereyra had a premonition that "something was amiss." Despite an eerie calm and a lack of troop movements in the elevated terrain, they proceeded. When they were just a few meters away, British forces, who had recaptured the hill the day before, opened fire. A bullet struck Pereyra's backpack, penetrating through and lodging in his back. Pereyra was taken captive, while Camiletti, upon his return to the mainland, was discharged and subsequently faded from the public eye.

Their journey took them halfway on Monday, May 31, when, in the southeastern vicinity of Monte Estancia, they fell into an ambush. Pereyra and López sustained severe injuries, while Alvarado and Verón remained unscathed but were captured. Thus began a new chapter, one that revolved around their lives as prisoners. This phase was particularly challenging, as they endured harsh treatment owing to their classification as special forces.

Subsequently, he was embarked in the HMS Canberra to get back to the continent and resumed active duty. The Navy, however, never requested that he share his combat experiences with the new generations of amphibious commandos. There was always a sense of shame associated with recounting them. This led to a profound depression, prompting his participation in the 1984 voyage of the Frigate Libertad, where he was the sole war veteran on board. In each North American and European port visited by the frigate, he was honored by fellow naval peers. In Annapolis, for instance, both marines and naval officers extended invitations for him to share his experiences over a drink. Similar receptions occurred in France, Spain, and Italy, with foreign naval officers eager to hear his accounts, even when their own national colleagues did not share the same enthusiasm.

He wasn't the sole one grappling with the aftermath. His fellow patrol members sank into severe depressions. Verón, hailing from Misiones, requested leave but, in a simultaneous twist, was arrested due to disruptive behavior. Pereyra, using his own funds, traveled to Posadas to secure Verón's release. When he found him in jail, Verón was clad in just a T-shirt, swim trunks, and flip-flops. Pereyra settled his fine, secured his freedom, and helped him regain his footing. Through his own marriage, Pereyra bore the costs of the traumas inflicted by the Malvinas War.

Presently, Pereyra is on leave and imparts nautical safety lessons. He resides in Pehuen Co, a quaint beach town located 80km from Bahía Blanca. I had the privilege of crossing paths with him two years ago when, unbeknownst to me, I rented his house. He goes by the moniker "El Brujo" Pereyra, as he's renowned for his knack for solving any problem that comes his way. He's an exceptionally modest and amiable individual, one of those people you can instantly identify by the way he talks. From time to time, he still reunites with Robacio, another unassuming hero of our nation, who served as the commander of BIM 5 in Tumbledown. Together, they ponder the purpose of that ill-fated patrol, a question to which nobody seems to hold the answer.

Source

La Nación, 14 Aug 1999
Clarín, 17 Aug 1999
Personal chat with Jesús Pereyra, February, 2007
Forum member APCA of foro Batallas

Malvinas: Landing in San Carlos

Combat at San Carlos (1982)

 
Camp of the 3rd British Parachute Battalion in Puerto San Carlos shortly after the landing

The San Carlos combat was a confrontation between the British landing forces and a small group of Argentine infantry soldiers, which occurred on May 21, 1982 during the Falklands War in the context of Operation Sutton. The scene of this combat was the western coast of Soledad Island, in the area of Puerto San Carlos, on the strait of the same name (Falkland Sound).

Background

The conflict in mid-May
Around mid-May in 1982, the intensity of military operations in the Malvinas archipelago had diminished. While diplomatic negotiations were ongoing, both sides were gearing up for the next phase of the campaign. The British aimed to land troops and remove the Argentine forces, yet they lacked information about when or where this operation would occur. The Argentine strategy focused on defending Puerto Argentino (Stanley), assuming it was the primary target of the British. Consequently, most of the Argentine ground forces were concentrated in that area.

Despite the British not rushing into action, they initiated the first combat actions using their aircraft carrier group, consisting of HMS "Hermes" and "Invincible" and their escort ships. Air strikes and naval bombardments began targeting Puerto Argentino on May 1. Meanwhile, British special forces like the Special Boat Squadron (SBS) conducted covert reconnaissance missions across the archipelago. Argentina had withdrawn its Sea Fleet to port following the sinking of the cruiser ARA General Belgrano, leaving only its aviation (Southern Air Force Command) capable of engaging the Royal Navy.

On May 18, 1982, the Amphibious Task Group, responsible for the landing operation under the codename "Operation Sutton," joined forces with the Aircraft Carrier Group. All available resources were dedicated to this critical phase of the campaign.

San Carlos, the scene


British landing on Soledad Island and subsequent fighting (May 21, 1982). 

The selected location was the western region of Soledad Island, situated along the San Carlos Strait near its northern tip. At this location, two waterways extended inland, offering shallow waters and soft beaches conducive to a landing operation. To the north of the water entrance lay San Carlos Port, and to the south was the San Carlos Establishment. These places were sparsely populated, with only a few houses, and Puerto San Carlos even had a school. To the northwest of Puerto San Carlos, on the Fanning Head peninsula, stood a small elevated landmass known as "Height 234." East of Establecimiento San Carlos, there were other elevated areas, while to the south lay the Sussex Heights, obstructing the road to Darwin.

The British selected this site after a thorough analysis and after discarding other options. In the first half of May, they dispatched special units to conduct reconnaissance in the area and reported the absence of defenders. However, despite the absence of a permanent Argentine garrison in San Carlos, their patrols discovered evidence of British incursions, prompting them to deploy a Combat Team to the Puerto San Carlos and Fanning Head region on May 15th. The British only became aware of the presence of these troops upon their own landing.

Conflicting plans

British landing plan
The choice of location, as already mentioned, was due to the consideration of several factors.

• The place was not defended (even though the British did not expect to find any Argentine soldiers there, there was no garrison capable of preventing a landing)
• The series of heights that surrounded the place offered the possibility of setting up a defense line and would prevent Argentine aviation from using the Exocet missiles. At the same time, the fighter-bombers would be forced to gain altitude before attacking, thus exposing themselves to anti-aircraft fire.
• Argentina's chances of rejecting the landing were complicated if it took place in San Carlos. This was very far from the main garrison in Puerto Argentino (80 kilometers), which would delay the intervention of a heliborne counterattack force. * Darwin's garrison was 35 kilometers away and if an advance against the beachhead was attempted, it could be stopped by naval fire from the Strait and by positions established on the Sussex heights.
• Complete control of the sea and air cover could protect the landing, while the large number of helicopters available could speed up the transfer of troops to land.
  

 

Argentine Defense Plan
Argentine planning for the defense of the Malvinas archipelago postulated as a basis the defense of a strong position in the island capital (Puerto Argentino Army Group), where the enemy landing was expected. As for the rest of the islands, garrisons of different strengths were installed, but it was impossible to keep the entire coastal perimeter of the Malvinas defended. The Argentine commanders anticipated several possible points for a British landing, but they could not cover them all. British control of the sea gave them the initiative, which is why they were granted the ability to feign diversionary maneuvers in one place and make the main effort in another.
The movement of troops by land to reject a landing carried out far from Puerto Argentino was ruled out for the following reasons:1 

• This movement would be detected by the English and they would suffer heavy losses due to their air and naval fire.
• There was no possibility that the Southern Air Force would achieve the air coverage necessary to execute said maneuver.
• The Malvinas soil did not allow the march of armor or the transport of artillery and heavy equipment. A soldier could only cover 2 kilometers per hour marching by day in such terrain, and one kilometer per hour marching at night.
• The time spent on the march would fatigue the troops, who would arrive tired, not to mention giving the enemy enough time to prepare their defenses.
• Carrying out a helicopter movement to the site was also considered very risky, given the British's dominance of the air.
• The number of helicopters available made it impossible to concentrate the force necessary for combat on the beachhead in a short time.

Due to these factors, the Argentine strategy involved continuous coastal monitoring. If an enemy landing was detected as the primary offensive, the aviation forces were assigned the crucial task of obstructing the establishment of a secure beachhead.

The region around Puerto San Carlos fell under the jurisdiction of the Litoral Army Group. They made the decision to dispatch portions of the Darwin garrison to this area with a specific mission: to "alert and prepare for a counterattack." 2

Conflicting forces


Argentine soldiers in an event, before the English landing. Lieutenant Esteban marches next to the flag bearer.

Argentine Forces
The Litoral Army Group defended the western part of Soledad Island and also Gran Malvina Island. Its main garrisons were Darwin, Howard and Bahía Fox. Precisely from the Darwin garrison, a group of soldiers belonging to the 12th and 25th Infantry Regiments were drawn. The troop was organized as follows:

• Equipo de Combate Güemes (Lieutenant Esteban): 42 strong (riflemen). Located at Puerto San Carlos. 
• Support Section (Second Lieutenant Reyes): 20 strong, 2 mortairs 81 mm y 2 105 mm recoilless guns. Located in Fanning Head (Height 234). 

British Forces
The British forces possessed a significantly larger contingent, which was commensurate with the scale of the operation. The 3rd Commando Brigade of the Royal Marines, bolstered by additional paratroopers from the British Army, had the primary objective of securing the beaches to facilitate the arrival of other units. The naval vessels were responsible for delivering artillery support, while the helicopter squadrons played a crucial role in the landing process. Simultaneously, the Sea Harrier fighters were deployed to provide aerial protection. All these components worked together in a coordinated effort for the operation.

• 3ª Commandos Brigade, Brigadier Julian Thompson 
• Comando 40 Royal Marines (Lieutenant colonel Hunt) 
• Comando 42º Royal Marines (Lieutenant colonel Vaux) 
• Comando 45º Royal Marines (Lieutenant colonel Whitehead) 

Additional Units Assigned

• 2 Para (Lieutenant colonel Jones) 
• 3 Para (Lieutenant colonel Pike) 
• Special Air Service 22 Regiment (Lieutenant colonel Rose) 
• 3ª Commando Brigade Air Squadron (Major Cameron) 

The order of battle arranged for the landing was as follows:

• Primera oleada: 2º Batallón de Paracaidistas y 40 Comando de Marines en San Carlos (Playa Azul).El 2º de Paracaidistas debía ocupar las montañas Sussex, al sur, para bloquear un eventual avance argentino desde Darwin. 
• Segunda oleada: 45º Comando de Marines en Ajax Bay (Playa Roja) y 3º Batallón de Paracaidistas en Puerto San Carlos (Playa Verde) 
• Reserva: 42º Comando de Marines (a bordo del buque Canberra) 

Landing Preparations

The Fanning Head Engagement
On Thursday night the British Amphibious Group entered the San Carlos Strait to begin the landing operation.
The first action was against the Argentine faction under the command of Second Lieutenant Reyes, located in Fanning Head.
At dawn (2:30) an Argentine patrol sent heard noises and voices from the Strait to the beach, perceiving at the same time the silhouette of the English ships. The Argentines then launched flares and fired their heavy weapons against the canal area, although without being able to appreciate the results due to darkness. The English ships opened fire, guided by the glare of the Argentine guns firing. This exchange of fire lasts several hours.
SBS men were sent in helicopters from the destroyer HMS Antrim. These forces landed east of Fanning Head, cutting off this Argentine faction from their comrades at Puerto San Carlos. Immediately afterwards (around 5:00) infantry combat began. In the following fight the British declared that they had killed several Argentines and captured others; while the Argentine report of the action denies fatal casualties although it confirms the loss of several men who were captured; It also says that three seriously wounded people were left behind with a non-commissioned medical officer, being treated and saved by the British.
However, the majority of the Argentine soldiers, led by Reyes, managed to break the British encirclement and retreat, although they did not join Lieutenant Esteban's faction. It is not clear where this force was located, but the Argentine version says that the Reyes Support Section remained there without being discovered throughout May 21.
The capture of Fanning Head assured the British possession of a sensitive area to cover the northern flank of the landing. While the Fanning Head fight was happening, the horrible Team Güemes remained in their positions.





Secondary Actions
The British report reports a blocking action carried out by Squadron D of the Special Air Service (SAS) in the Darwin-Goose Green area, to prevent the Argentine troops located there from moving north to repel the landing. . This blocking action was supported by naval fire from the frigate HMS “Ardent” from the waters of the Strait.
On the other hand, Royal Air Force Harrier planes carried out attacks at various points: an English fighter was shot down over Howard, while other planes managed to destroy three Argentine helicopters in the Monte Kent area, 20 kilometers from Puerto Argentino. This last coup pursued the objective of denying aeromobility to the Argentines to prevent them from transferring counterattack forces to San Carlos.

Landing
The first wave of landings reached the beach without opposition in the early morning hours. The frigate HMS Plymouth provided close cover, and four Scimitar and Scorpion light tanks reached the beach in the first wave, to provide firepower. It was the first British landing in war since the Suez Crisis in 1956.
Fulfilling the planned plan, the 2nd Battalion occupied the Sussex Heights, while the 40th Commando did the same with the Green Mountains. The southern flank, facing Darwin's Argentine position, was secured. The barges then returned to the canal to pick up and transport the second wave.
Meanwhile, the Güemes Combat Team observed the English movement in the canal. Communications with the Support Section had been cut during the early morning, but the Argentines in Puerto San Carlos could hear the noise of the combat taking place at Fanning Head. Lieutenant Esteban transmitted the information about the situation to his immediate boss in Darwin, who relayed it to Puerto Argentino.
At dawn the barges with the second wave of landings were arriving at the beach in the assigned sectors. The 45th Command took positions in a refrigerator in Ajax Bay (western sector of the landing) and the 3rd Parachute Battalion landed near Puerto San Carlos, in the vicinity of the main Argentine position.

San Carlos Frays

Argentine Perspective

By then the Argentines had occupied new positions to the east of Puerto San Carlos, from where they opened fire on the paratroopers. The San Carlos combat then took place, when the soldiers of the Güemes Team damaged a “Sea King”3 helicopter with the fire of their portable weapons (7.62 mm FAL assault rifles), which withdrew smoking from the area. The combat continued and a second helicopter arrived to attack the Argentine position with rockets, but was shot down with the same rifle fire by the defenders. The machine fell into the water in the canal, but then a third helicopter opened fire on Esteban's troop and they, with the same tactic, shot him down. The device fell to the ground and the Argentines verified that the three crew members had died. A fourth helicopter was damaged by rifle fire and managed to withdraw. According to Esteban, this combat lasted an hour, while the disembarked enemy fired mortar fire uninterruptedly. Furthermore, he verified that the Falkland Islands civilians, through signs, indicated to the English soldiers the position of the Argentine forces.



British Perspective
When the other beachheads had already been established, the amphibious ships entered the San Carlos channel and disembarked the 3rd Parachute Battalion. But the rush to establish anti-aircraft defenses led the English to move along the beach head without it being definitively secured. In such circumstances, a Sea King helicopter was maneuvering east of Puerto San Carlos without realizing that the vanguard elements of the 3rd Parachute Battalion were still west of the position. Under these circumstances he was hit by Argentine fire but was able to escape, but his escort, a Gazelle helicopter from the 3rd Commando Brigade, was shot down and fell into the water, killing one crew member. A few minutes later another Gazelle was hit and fell to the ground, killing its two crew members.



The British version does not mention infantry combat in the positions east of Puerto San Carlos and suggests that the helicopters were not intended to attack the Argentine troops, but rather fell into enemy fire due to carelessness and had to open fire to defend themselves. He also says that the helicopters hit by the Argentines were three and not four, although he agrees that two of them were destroyed.

To Dawn

The Landing Continous

The English landed the reserve (42nd Command) in Puerto San Carlos to reinforce the 3rd Battalion. Meanwhile, the other light tanks and field artillery were disembarked, along with the anti-aircraft defenses.
The two Argentine factions remained in their positions, without their presence being able to prevent the British landing. Esteban's report mentions continuous naval and mortar fire on his position, but the basic objective of his mission was accomplished, since he had raised the alarm about the enemy's landing operation.
As a result of this alarm, the Argentines sent an Aermacchi MB-339 fighter plane from Puerto Argentino on a reconnaissance mission, which (around 10:00) confirmed the magnitude of the British landing and carried out a daring attack against the frigate “HMS Argonaut”. which caused some damage. The Argentine pilot, Lieutenant Crippa, was decorated for this reconnaissance and attack mission.
Once the information about the landing was confirmed by Crippa, the Argentine aviation launched all its available potential against the beach head, but this is part of what is known as the Battle of the Strait of San Carlos.
Meanwhile, the landing perimeter had its first victory by shooting down an Argentine Pucará attack plane. This had been sent from Darwin and was shot down by SAS D Squadron over the Sussex Mountains in the morning.


Situation at the end of the day (May 21, 1982)

Consolidation

The two Argentine factions, cut off from each other, remained in the area until the hours of darkness, when it would be easier for them to break contact with the enemy. Esteban's men left Puerto San Carlos marching through Cerro Bombilla and arrived at Douglas Paddock on May 24. There they managed to reestablish communication with Puerto Argentino, from where helicopters were sent to pick them up. They were then sent back into combat at Darwin-Goose Green, where they were taken prisoner when the garrison capitulated.
As for the Support Section, a group of 11 soldiers managed to evade the British encirclement, while the rest were captured. Those who managed to leave the area marched through the northern part of Soledad Island, avoiding British airmobile patrols and also contact with the islanders. On June 14, this faction, under the command of Reyes, learned the news of the Argentine capitulation in the archipelago and came out into the open, surrendering to the British.
Thompson ordered the general landing to continue at a sustained pace, and a field hospital was established and the Rapier anti-aircraft missile batteries were deployed. The landing continued even after the Argentine air attacks began, and the English marines and paratroopers did not stop patrolling and reinforcing their perimeter. At the end of the day some 3,000 English soldiers were already on the ground.

 

Aftermath

The British forces commanded by Brigadier Thompson managed to establish a firm beachhead to prevent Argentine ground counterattacks, but these did not occur. The Argentine strategy of rejecting the landing with aviation transferred the fight to the air-naval level, allowing the English troops to be permanently reinforced.
The San Carlos combat was small in magnitude and significance. The Argentines had no means to defend the beach or prevent the landing, but instead presented a determined but formal resistance, in accordance with their main mission, which was to raise the alarm if an enemy landing occurred. The casualties caused to the British meant an extra moral victory, but did not affect the landing operation; However, the combat that occurred showed the English that the defenders could be tenacious, and convinced them of the need to reinforce the perimeter because an Argentine ground operation was not ruled out. The British decided not to underestimate the enemy.
The English landing in San Carlos was carried out with great precision and organization, even when combat was ongoing east of Puerto San Carlos and also when the air attacks began. The losses of helicopters during this action affected their mobility to a certain extent, but overall the casualties suffered in combat were not significant.
The British beachhead at San Carlos was consolidated and on May 26 the 2nd Parachute Battalion began the breakout to the south, leading against the Argentine garrison of Darwin-Goose Green. From there San Carlos stopped being a beachhead.

Notes 

1. These considerations were presented by the head of the Puerto Argentino Group, General Oscar Jofre, in his book “Malvinas, the defense of Puerto Argentino”, Editorial Sudamericana 1987
2. Cited in Kasanzew's book "Mavinas a Blood and Fire" (see bibliography).
3. In a combat situation it was normal for soldiers to confuse aircraft. On the other hand, Argentine troops had become accustomed to identifying all British helicopters with the Sea King and Sea Lynx models.

References

• Gambini, Hugo: Crónica Documental de las Malvinas, (incluye muchos documentos sobre la visión inglesa del conflicto). Editorial Redacción, Buenos Aires 1982. 
• Kasanzew, Nicolás: Malvinas a Sangre y Fuego. Editorial Abril, Buenos Aires 1982. 
• Jofre, Oscar: La defensa de Puerto Argentino (cita fuentes británicas en el relato de las acciones). Editorial Sudamericana, Buenos Aires 1987. 
• Burden, Royden et al: Malvinas, la guerra aérea (edición argentina). Ediciones Open, Buenos Aires 1989. 

Wikipedia.es