April, the 2nd: The Landing Experience of the Argentine Marines

Lived Experiences During the South Atlantic War 

Account by 𝘑𝘶𝘢𝘯 𝘊𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘰𝘴 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪 – 𝘛𝘕𝘐𝘔 𝘝𝘎𝘔 (𝘙)



Malvinas 1982

Landing and Seizure of the Beachhead

It was 04:00 on the 2nd of April 1982 when reveille was sounded. I remember waking up and heading to the bathroom to take a shower and put on the new combat uniform I had packed in my rucksack, which I had brought especially for what I considered the most glorious day of my military career. I was going into combat to fulfil the oath I had made to our flag on 20th June 1974: to defend it with my life if necessary!

Boarding time for the Amphibious Tracked Vehicles (ATVs) was 05:45, and so we did – in order, in silence (despite the commands that could be heard).
At 06:00, the first four ATVs, under the command of CCIM Hugo Jorge Santillán, set off. Among that initial wave was our fellow graduate TCIM Carlos Ramón Schweizer.

I disembarked from the Command ATV, which was led by the Commander of BIM2 and Commander of Task Force 40.1, CFIM Alfredo Raúl Weinstabl. The initial leg of the crossing to the landing beach was made with the ATV hatches sealed shut. For those who have never landed in an amphibious vehicle, it's important to understand that such an approach under those conditions is highly dangerous. Had British forces had the opportunity to open fire on us, we would have become sitting ducks, and many of us would likely have ended up in the cold waters of the South Atlantic, given that the amphibious vehicles we were travelling in were not armoured.

Just before we reached the beach, the top hatches were opened, allowing us to peek out and see the tracer fire streaking through the darkness (it was still night at that hour), clear evidence that fighting had already begun ashore. Naturally, my blood was racing in anticipation of making landfall and entering combat. Fear: NONE. Uncertainty: COMPLETE.



We finally landed without suffering any casualties among personnel or vehicles.
We immediately advanced towards the airport at what was then still Port Stanley. There was no enemy resistance, but we observed that the runway was blocked by vehicles and other obstacles, which would have prevented any aircraft from landing. The Commander gave the order to clear it. Just then, we received word that the vehicles under CCIM Santillán had come under enemy fire. One had been hit multiple times by machine-gun fire, and a conscript had sustained a minor shrapnel wound to the hand.

CFIM Weinstabl promptly ordered the driver of the Command ATV to head towards that position, accompanied by Delta Company under TNIM Di Paola.
We reached the forward position and dismounted from the amphibious vehicles. At this moment, I recall an anecdote involving Carlos Schweizer: as we dismounted, I saw Carlos standing and adjusting the heels of his conscripts to prevent a common wartime injury – being hit in the heels due to improper prone positioning. I shouted at him, “Bizcocho, get down, they’re shooting at us!” He turned around laughing and obeyed. I then told him, “Those recoilless rifles from Di Filippo (SSIM and Head of BIM2’s Recoilless Rifles) are making quite a racket!” To which he replied, “That’s the English mortars firing at us.”
At that moment, I thought, “You die in war without even realising it.” What I had assumed were our own cannons turned out to be enemy fire.

A key shot from one of our recoilless rifles forced the British troops to retreat into the settlement.



The forward elements remounted the vehicles and moved to support the Amphibious Commandos in Moody Brook. However, those forces had already completed their mission and were near Port Stanley from the opposite direction of the BIM2 advance, so Captain Santillán continued his operation to secure the Camber Peninsula.

Meanwhile, the Battalion Companies entered the town without resistance, took control of their designated responsibility zones, and established full control over the population and essential public services.
As we moved into the urban area of Port Stanley, we came under sniper fire. We quickly hit the ground, and I noticed a window where a curtain was being moved by the wind. I requested permission from Captain Weinstabl to return fire at that location, but, in accordance with the initial directive to recover the Islands without bloodshed, he denied my request.

The incident did not repeat, and we resumed our advance, eventually reaching a location where the Commander gathered the Officers of the vanguard. I realised we were in front of a two-storey building that looked like a gymnasium.
Considering that Royal Marines might be hiding inside, I requested permission to search it. Captain Weinstabl authorised me to enter with TCIM Gazzolo and two NCOs.

We entered the building and saw that to access the first floor there were two side staircases. I told Gazzolo to take the right flank with one of the NCOs, and I took the left with the other.




We advanced carefully, given our exposed position, and reached a room where we found five Royal Marines who had apparently surrendered – their five Sterling submachine guns lay on a table with their magazines removed – along with a female police officer.

We conducted a standard search of the British soldiers but did not touch the female officer.
After verifying that the soldiers had no other weapons, they were placed under guard and prepared for transfer to the Prisoner Collection Point (PRP).

But the biggest surprise came when we opened the door to a larger hall and discovered Argentine civilians who had been imprisoned there.
We freed them and sent the prisoners to the PRP.

Malvinas: Robacio Masterfully Commands the Artillery of the 4th Airborne Artillery Group

Account of Second Lieutenant Juan Gabino Suárez, Chief of the “last gun” of the 4th Airborne Artillery Group (GAAerot 4)

  

I share this account once again because Rear Admiral Carlos Hugo Robacio deserves to be remembered as he truly was — by living and reliving a part of his life.

I will never tire of saying it. Never.

Our place in the war: Sapper Hill (Puerto Argentino, Malvinas Islands, Republic of Argentina) — with a forward detachment in San Carlos alongside Battery "A".

A field artilleryman loves to see where his rounds land. He thrives on observing, calculating, correcting. But when you’re the Chief of the Gun Section, that privilege is gone. From the rear —where all you hear are the fire commands and the thunder of the guns— you must imagine the battlefield, reconstruct in your mind what’s unfolding ahead, guided only by instinct, by training... and by doctrine.

That’s when fire adjustment comes alive —the craft of bracketing a target with precision. It's a method as old as it is effective: the first shot, far from being decisive, is merely a starting point. In artillery, a direct hit on the first round proves nothing. Only through disciplined bracketing—first in azimuth, then in range—can effective fire be achieved.

But in the urgency of combat, the temptation to cut corners is always there. One tends to stray from the textbook, from regulation, from what was drilled into you in the classroom. You want to solve everything at once. And that’s where those who forget the fundamentals make their first mistake. Because when the situation is real, and the enemy is advancing, all you have left is what you learned —and held onto.

And then, he appeared: Captain Carlos Hugo Robacio, Commander of Marine Battalion 5. The moment his fire requests began coming in, I knew instantly he was applying doctrine with surgical precision. His Initial Fire Request (IFR) was flawless: the target was clearly described —width, depth, distance, bearing from magnetic north. Everyone in the fire chain knew exactly what had to be done. Tactical clarity radiated through the net. And that kind of clarity inspires. From gun crews to the Fire Direction Center (FDC) and the Fire Support Coordinator (FSC), everyone locked in.

  
CN Carlos Robacio in Malvinas
 

I could read his thinking through the rounds.
The first shot landed off to one side.
The second, at the opposite end.
What was he doing?
He was bracketing the target, establishing the axis of correction. Pure doctrine. Pure art.
The third corrected direction.
The fourth refined range.
The fifth: ten rounds, fire for effect.

Not a moment of hesitation. Robacio didn’t ask —he ordered. And every order was exact.

Then came confirmation from the Forward Observer: successful impact. But who exactly were we firing on? These weren’t theoretical targets. We were firing on British troops who had already closed within 150 meters of our lines —some even closer. Robacio had cut the enemy advance in two, separating the forward elements from the main assault force still pushing up from the rear. He bought time —and lives.

And then, the critical moment.

The new coordinates overlapped the exact position of Marine Battalion 5. The FDC hesitated. “We can’t fire there —our own men are on that grid!” But Robacio didn’t flinch:

“They’re among us! Get in your foxholes and open fire. Fire! Fire! Fire!”

The order came out furious, direct, visceral. And it was necessary.

Even with our guns buried, we kept fighting back.

I don’t remember how many volleys we fired on that line —but it was a lot. Hundreds of rounds. Robacio kept pushing them back, forcing the enemy to scatter. And when he sensed it was time, he ordered a fire barrier. Precision calculations. All guns firing on a perfect line. A wall of steel. And he drove them even farther. Until the guns fell silent.

To me, it was a masterclass in fire control. No hesitation. No second-guessing. Robacio owned the battlefield like a conductor with an orchestra —with precision, instinct, and total battlefield awareness. He was a professional. A tactician. A clear-headed combat leader.

But what were the British really trying to do by attacking BIM5? Was it a diversion? A beachhead for a future assault on Port Stanley? A test of our responsiveness?
Even today, this engagement is barely remembered, hardly studied, nearly absent from the official accounts. And yet, it was one of the most technically sound and fiercely fought defenses of the entire war.

I hope this testimony serves to highlight the professional excellence of Captain Robacio, his tactical brilliance, and his nerve under fire. We never had the chance to work together before the war —but in those days, I could read his mind through every shot fired.

And in artillery, that’s worth more than a thousand words.

One of our artillery guns —in those first days, our assigned combat position— might well be the emblematic one. Maybe because of where it stood. The fence posts were still upright, and the comrades of BIM 5 were up ahead, still building their own defenses.

Forgive me for bringing back these memories —memories of those howitzers that once held back the British advance, firing until there was nothing left to shoot.

(Sapper Hil, Puerto Argentino, Republic of Argentina)

Malvinas: Tumbledown Night

Tumbledown: Blood and Courage

The Battle of Mount Tumbledown: A Nocturnal Clash in the Malvinas War

The Battle of Mount Tumbledown took place on the night of June 13–14, 1982, as part of the British campaign to recapture Puerto Argentino, the capital of the Malvinas Islands. It was a brutal, close-quarters fight in freezing, rugged terrain, pitting the Argentine 5th Marine Infantry Battalion (BIM 5) against a British force comprising the 2nd Battalion Scots Guards, the 1st Battalion 7th Gurkha Rifles, elements of 42 Commando Royal Marines, and supporting units like the Welsh Guards and Blues and Royals. The battle’s savagery stemmed from its nocturnal setting, the rocky landscape, and the desperate stakes for both sides.

The Setting: A Dark, Hostile Landscape

Imagine a moonless night, the Malvinas’ winter wind slicing through the air, temperatures hovering near freezing. Mount Tumbledown, a jagged, 750-foot-high ridge of crags and boulders, looms west of Stanley. Its slopes are slick with wet peat and frost, littered with rocks perfect for defensive positions. The Argentine 5th Marines, under Commander Carlos Robacio, are dug into trenches and sangars (stone shelters), their positions fortified with machine guns, mortars, and snipers. They’re cold-weather trained, hardened, and determined to hold this key height overlooking the capital. On the British side, soldiers huddle in the darkness near Goat Ridge, their breath visible as they prepare for a silent advance, weighed down by packs, rifles, and anti-tank weapons.

The Opening Moves: Diversion and Stealth

Picture the battle starting at 8:30 p.m. local time. A diversionary attack kicks off south of Tumbledown—four light tanks from the Blues and Royals (two Scorpions, two Scimitars) rumble forward, their engines roaring, accompanied by a small Scots Guards detachment. Their muzzle flashes light up the night, drawing Argentine fire. Meanwhile, the main assault begins from the west: three companies of Scots Guards—Left Flank, Right Flank, and G Company—move silently in phases, bayonets fixed, under cover of darkness. Mortar teams from 42 Commando set up behind, ready to rain shells, while naval gunfire from HMS Active’s 4.5-inch gun booms offshore, its explosions illuminating the horizon in brief, eerie flashes.

The Clash: Savage Close-Quarters Fighting

Visualize the moment the Scots Guards hit the Argentine lines. Left Flank Company, leading the assault, creeps undetected to the western slopes—then a Guardsman spots an Argentine sniper. A single shot rings out, followed by a volley of 66mm anti-tank rockets streaking through the dark, their fiery trails briefly exposing the enemy. The Guards charge, machine-gunners and riflemen firing from the hip, a chaotic line of muzzle flashes advancing over open ground. Argentine marines of N Company, entrenched with FAL rifles and MAG machine guns, return fire—tracers arc across the night, ricocheting off rocks. Grenades explode, showering shale and dirt; bayonets clash in brutal hand-to-hand combat. The air fills with shouts, screams, and the metallic clatter of weapons.

Halfway up, Left Flank’s 15 Platoon, under Lieutenant Alasdair Mitchell, takes heavy casualties—two men fall dead, others wounded, their blood staining the rocks. Right Flank Company, under Major John Kiszely, pushes east, meeting fierce resistance from Marine Sub-Lieutenant Carlos Vázquez’s 4th Platoon. Phosphorous grenades burst, casting a ghastly white glow, revealing Argentine defenders fighting from crag to crag. The Scots Guards lose eight dead and 43 wounded in this relentless grind, their red tunics (in spirit, if not literal uniform) soaked in sweat and blood.

The Gurkhas and Mount William: A Parallel Struggle

Now shift your gaze south to Mount William, a sub-hill held by the Argentine O Company. The 1st Battalion 7th Gurkha Rifles, held in reserve initially, moves in after Tumbledown’s summit is secured. Picture Gurkhas in camouflage, kukris gleaming faintly, advancing across a shell-pocked saddle under Argentine mortar fire from Sapper Hill. Eight are wounded as shells burst in the soft peat, muffling some blasts but not the chaos. They take Mount William by 9:00 a.m., their disciplined advance a stark contrast to the earlier melee, yet no less determined. Robacio would say "We're not afraid of them, they fell like flies". They were humans after all.

 

The Welsh Guards and Sapper Hill: Delayed but Deadly

Imagine the Welsh Guards, paired with Royal Marines, stuck in a minefield en route to Sapper Hill. Their frustration mounts as Argentine mortars pound them from above, one man killed earlier on a motorbike dispatch. They’re meant to follow the Gurkhas but are bogged down, their silhouettes barely visible in the pre-dawn murk, cursing the delay as shells whistle overhead.

 

The Argentine Retreat: A Final Stand

See the Argentine 5th Marines’ resolve crack as dawn nears. A sniper—perhaps Private Luis Bordón—fires at a British Scout helicopter evacuating wounded, injuring two Guardsmen before being cut down in a hail of Scots Guards gunfire. By 9:00 a.m., the Scots Guards hold Tumbledown’s eastern high ground, and the Gurkhas secure Mount William. Commander Robacio plans a counterattack from Sapper Hill, but his men—16 dead, 64 wounded—begin a disciplined retreat toward Puerto Argentino, marching in parade order, colors high, defiant even in defeat. Thirty Argentine bodies lie scattered across the battlefield, a testament to the fight’s ferocity. As soon as Robacio arrives, ask the Militar Governor Menéndez to send all of his men to the front. He was disregarded.

The Aftermath: A Hard-Won Victory

Envision the scene at sunrise: British troops, exhausted, consolidate their positions. The Scots Guards’ Pipe Major James Riddell stands atop Tumbledown, his bagpipes wailing “The Crags of Tumbledown Mountain,” a haunting tribute to the fallen. A Volvo BV-202 lies wrecked by a mine, its crew dazed. The British tally: 10 dead (8 Scots Guards, 1 Welsh Guard, 1 Royal Engineer), over 60 wounded. Medals—DSOs, Military Crosses, Distinguished Conduct Medals—will follow, but for now, the survivors catch their breath, the road to Puerto Argentino open at last.

Malvinas: The attack on Ross Road Manor

The surgical strike that caused the only Kelper casualties.

June 11, 1982. Puerto Argentino. A British missile hit the first floor of the Ross Road mansion, where the intelligence detachment was located. (Photo from Nicolás Kasanzew's personal camera)

The British, through signals intelligence, deduced that that house was where General Menéndez stayed and had his headquarters. For this mission they sent a Wessex Helicopter armed with AS 12 guided missiles. In the darkness under naval bombardment cover, the Wessex approached the coast at low altitude and the weapons officer fired and guided the missile with night vision devices to the target. An Argentine Intelligence section was sleeping at the impact site.

Malvinas/Falklands War: The Last Moments of June, 14th in Puerto Argentino

The Malvinas conflict reached its conclusion on June 14, marked by intense hand-to-hand combat, heroic resistance, and the British apprehension towards Argentine aviation.

During the final hours, tense negotiations took place between the Argentine and British forces. General Galtieri issued orders to Menéndez, which were met with defiance. The British harbored bitterness over the relentless air attacks they faced and the battles that etched themselves into history as some of the most valiant displays of courage exhibited by the Argentine troops.

By Adrián Pignatelli || Infobae

General Mario Benjamín Menéndez was the governor. In this photo he addresses troops in Darwin on May 25, 1982. (AP)

During the initial days of June, the English initiated efforts to establish a ceasefire, using the radio telephone at the "King Edward" hospital, a facility frequently used by the islanders for medical consultations. On June 6, a call was answered by Dr. Alison Bleaney, who was initially skeptical and almost dismissed it as a prank. However, it turned out to be a British staff officer trying to communicate with the Argentine authorities.

Dr. Bleaney relayed the message to Commodore Carlos Bloomer Reeve, the Secretary General of the Interior, through a messenger. Governor Mario Benjamín Menéndez was then informed of the communication, and he appointed Navy Captain Barry Melbourne Hussey to listen to the British message without answering any questions. The message from the British was an attempt to find common ground for ending the hostilities.

Both parties agreed to communicate daily at 1:00 p.m. until the 12th of June.

The final hours of the war are renowned for showcasing the greatest display of Argentine resistance.

Mount Longdon was the scene of a dramatic combat by soldiers from the 7th Regiment. (AFP)

Starting from June 9, the British intensified their artillery fire. Subsequent battles occurred between the 11th and 13th at strategic locations, namely Mount Harriet, Mount Longdon, Two Sisters, Mount Tumbledown, and Wireless Ridge. These battles formed the final defensive line before reaching Puerto Argentino.

During the combats at Mount Harriet and Mount Two Sisters, the British forces encountered formidable resistance. A skilled sniper managed to impede the advance of a Royal Marines company for hours, while another company from the 45th also faced significant opposition on the slopes of Two Sisters. The tenacious resistance demonstrated by the Argentine troops earned admiration from the enemy.

Jeremy Moore, the British commander. The day before the surrender he saved his life in an air raid.

A grueling battle took place on Mount Longdon, resulting in a significant number of casualties. The British forces had to push forward with fixed bayonets, and once they reached the summit, they had to defend against two Argentine counterattacks. The 7th Regiment's C Company, consisting of a platoon of 46 men, forced the English B Company into a withdrawal.

The severity of the conflict was evident in the numbers: out of the 278 men in the "Maipú" Company, only 78 managed to withdraw after enduring twelve hours of combat against the 3 PARA. The British forces suffered 23 killed and 70 wounded.

On Saturday, June 12, at half past 3, history witnessed the launch of an MM-38 Exocet missile from a ramp near the Puerto Argentino airport. The missile was directed at HMS Glamorgan, a British ship responsible for nightly bombardments of the capital. The shot proved successful, hitting the ship's deck and rendering its electronic devices inoperative.

The Tumbledown combat, June 13, 1982. Painting by Steve Noon, British artist.

On the 13th, approximately twenty air missions were conducted over British positions. During an air raid on his camp at Mount Two Sisters, Commander Jeremy Moore miraculously escaped with his life.

On the same night, around 50 Scottish soldiers launched an attack on the base of Mount William, leading to an order for the Argentine defenders to withdraw. Additionally, a British speedboat raid on the Camber Peninsula, north of the Puerto Argentino roadstead, was repelled before midnight.

In the early hours of June 13, a section of the Amphibious Engineer Company withdrew from the northwest of Mount Tumbledown and headed towards the command post of Marine Infantry Battalion 5. At three in the morning, amidst a snowstorm, a fraction of them, along with members of the Amphibious Engineer Company and a section of riflemen from the Company of the 6th Infantry Regiment, prepared to counterattack the west side of Mount Tumbledown. Two hours later, the Nácar Company attempted to regain control of the mountain. A counterattack ensued, resulting in half a dozen Scotsmen being wounded. However, facing heavy enemy fire, General Menéndez authorized the withdrawal of the forces.

Pilots, mechanics, technicians and soldiers of the M5 Dagger Squadron before one of the missions in Comodoro Rivadavia. The actions of the Air Force and Naval Aviation pilots were the greatest concern of the British.

During the battle of Wireless Ridge, the 7th Regiment's trenches endured a relentless onslaught of nearly 6,000 shells fired by British artillery. Initially, the English forces took control of the northern sector, and two companies, which had been engaged in combat since the previous day, made their way towards Moody Brook while facing the relentless barrage of British cannons.

Despite the valiant efforts of the Argentine troops to hold their ground, the British advance persisted. With the support of light tanks, the British infantry managed to reach their positions and encircle the troops from BIM 5. On the southern slope of Wireless Ridge, approximately 40 men from A Company of Regiment 3 courageously launched a counter-attack against soldiers from Para 2.

As dawn broke on the 14th, the surviving soldiers from the battle at Wireless Ridge regrouped and formed a defensive line near Felton Creek. About 50 survivors from the 7th Regiment launched a counter-attack against Moody Brook Barracks, which was already under British control. However, they were met with fierce artillery fire and had to retreat. The British were impressed by the resolute attitude displayed by the Argentine forces.

Some of the soldiers of Regiment 3 who staged one of the last counterattacks of the war.

The Air Force executed its final mission: deploying two Canberra and two Mirage bombers to attack British positions at Furze Bush Pass. Tragically, one of the Canberras was shot down during the operation.

At 6 o'clock in the morning, the Argentine artillery opened fire towards the top of Wireless Ridge, aiming to halt the advance of the British paratroopers. The artillery provided cover fire to facilitate the retreat of the Argentine soldiers. An hour later, the British forces gained control of Tumbledown, and helicopters fired missiles at the Argentine artillery near Moody Brook.

Amidst the withdrawal, a second lieutenant and 21 gunners from the 4 Airborne Group remained behind to operate the last piece of artillery, which they used to engage British paratroopers. However, they were forced to withdraw when a shell got stuck.

At that moment, Carlos Robacio, the commander of BIM 5, defied two withdrawal orders and continued fighting.

In the war's final engagement, a section of the Sea Company from BIM 5 successfully disabled two British Sea King helicopters. BIM 5 completed its withdrawal by 3:00 p.m., marching at an accelerated pace through the streets of Puerto Argentino, with the troops remaining in possession of their weapons. They aimed to regroup and prepare for urban combat.

Commander Carlos Robacio was the commander of the 5th Marine Infantry Battalion. On more than one occasion, he rejected the withdrawal order.

In his memoirs, Admiral Woodward recounted the dire situation during the war's final days: "We were stretched to the limit, with only three ships - Hermes, Yarmouth, and Exeter - functioning without major operational issues. 45% of our destroyers and frigates were incapacitated. The Andromeda's Sea Wolf was disabled, all the Brillant systems had various defects, and the Broadsword had one and a half weapon systems functioning, with one propulsion shaft permanently damaged. None of the 21 ships were fit for battle: the Avenger and Arrow were broken, and Olimpus turbines disabled, among other issues. It was a crumbling fleet."

"In this beautiful place, we have only one Sea Dart line of fire to protect the Etendards. Our convoys to and from the coast are 'escorted' by a semi-paralyzed frigate. The gun line, once consisting of four ships, is now down to two due to damages. The towing, repairs, and logistics area is 'protected' by the broken-down Glamorgan, and South Georgia is valiantly defended by the poor, broken-down Antrim and the formidable battleship Endurance."

The withdrawal of BIM 5 from Sapper Hill marked the end of General Jofre's planned resistance. Most factions abandoned their positions, walking towards Puerto Argentino, some alongside British soldiers who allowed them to retain their weapons.

Para 2 commanded Wireless Ridge, Para 3 Mount Longdon, 42 Commando Mount Harriet, and 45 Commando Two Sisters. The Scots Guards controlled Tumbledown, the Gurkhas were on Mount Williams, and the Welsh on Sapper Hill, with Puerto Argentino dominated by two English brigades.

Generals Menéndez and Jofre agreed that continuing the fight would only lead to more loss of life. Jofre stated, "This is not enough."

In the midst of a conversation with General Leopoldo Galtieri, the call was abruptly cut off by an English bombardment. Galtieri, at Casa Rosada, remarked, "It seems that Menéndez is giving up..." and asked to speak with him.

Menéndez's assistant was sent to communicate with the English troops and seek a ceasefire agreement.

Galtieri called again, demanding loudly that the soldiers leave their foxholes and counterattack. Menéndez explained that he lacked sufficient support, particularly from naval and air forces. Despite Galtieri's insistence to counterattack using troops from the 3rd and 25th regiments and the marine infantry, Menéndez refused, knowing the futility of such an action. Galtieri warned him that he would have to answer for his decision upon returning to the continent. Menéndez considered invoking United Nations Resolution 502, which called for Argentina to cease hostilities, withdraw troops, and negotiate, but Galtieri objected. Faced with difficult choices, Menéndez decided to "leave with honor."

A Gazelle helicopter from Fearless took off, carrying British Parliamentarians. They tied a white parachute cloth to its belly. The officers Bell, Reid, and a Spanish-speaking radio operator accompanied them.

As they walked towards the seat of government, Menéndez awaited them at the door. In the talks, Captain Melbourne Hussey was joined by Vice Commodores Carlos Bloomer Reeve and Eugenio Miari, a specialist in international treaties.

During the first meeting, the British expressed concern about Argentine aviation and called for their attacks to cease.

Until the last moment, Galtieri demanded that Menéndez counterattack with the forces available. He also did not want the governor to sign any documents. (Telam)

At 11 a.m., as snow began to fall, a ceasefire was reached. For the British, this was a stroke of luck as the troops who attacked Puerto Argentino were left with only six batches of ammunition; the rest had sunk with the Atlantic Conveyor.

Galtieri laid out his conditions: Menéndez should not sign any document, and the discussions should revolve around evacuation rather than surrender. Each man was expected to return in uniform, with his weapons, and the commitment was to be upheld with honor. Menéndez was taken aback by the order not to sign, knowing it would be an impossible request to fulfill.

Moore y Menéndez acordaron el alto el fuego. El gobernador exigió quitar la palabra "incondicional", de los términos de la rendición.

Each party retreated to confer with their superiors and agreed to reconvene later, this time with their respective leaders, during the night.

At 19:45, Jeremy Moore, the British forces commander, arrived by helicopter, visibly perturbed by the snowstorm they had to navigate through. He was accompanied by seven officers from his General Staff, the radio operator with direct communication to London, and a legal officer. In one hand, he held a document outlining the terms of surrender, and in the other, a bottle of whiskey.

The Argentinians declined to sign an "unconditional" surrender; they insisted that there would be no public surrender ceremony, that the officers would retain command over their troops, and they would keep their flags.

Moore's telegram announcing that it was all over.

Moore's main concern revolved around the airmen. The aviation action had resulted in the loss of 7 British ships, with 5 being rendered inoperative and 12 experiencing mechanical breakdowns. In response, they reached out to Brigadier Ernesto Crespo, who had proclaimed at the start of the war: "If anyone thought that the phrase 'defend the Homeland until losing your life' was merely rhetoric, this is the moment of truth." As the head of the air command, Crespo pledged to comply with the cessation of hostilities, although he made it clear that he was not surrendering.

After removing the word "unconditional" from the document and obtaining assurances from the air command, all obstacles were overcome. Menéndez then initialed the document, followed by Moore and a British officer as a witness.

Cover of the Clarín newspaper that gave an account of the ceasefire on the islands.

The ceasefire would begin at 23:59 on June 14. Menéndez requested authorization to meet with his General Staff but it was denied, informing him that he would shortly be transferred to “Fearless” as a detainee.

The war was over.

Sources: La guerra inaudita. El conflicto del Atlántico Sur, de Rubén Oscar Moro; 1982. Los documentos secretos de la guerra de Malvinas/Falklands y el derrumbe del proceso, de Juan B. Yofre; Los cien días. Las memorias del comandante de la flota británica durante la guerra de Malvinas, de Sandy Woodward; Una cara de la moneda. La guerra de Malvinas according tothe complete version of The Sunday Times Insight Team de Londres; newspaper from June 1982.