Showing posts with label UK. Show all posts
Showing posts with label UK. Show all posts

Sunday, June 7, 2026

Malvinas: The Performance of the Argentine Submarines

Argentine submarines in the Malvinas conflict

Alexander Mitrofanov || Top War



Submarine S-21 Santa Fe


At the outbreak of the armed conflict, the Argentine Navy had four submarines. Two of them, S-22 Santiago del Estero and S-21 Santa Fe, had been built in the United States in 1944 as SS-341 Chivo and SS-339 Catfish, respectively, and belonged to the Balao class. Between 1948 and 1949, Catfish was modernised under the GUPPY II programme, and in 1961 Chivo was modernised under the GUPPY IIA programme. In 1971, the submarines were transferred to Argentina. Santiago del Estero was decommissioned in 1981, and Santa Fe met the same fate between August and September 1982.


SS-339 Catfish in 1946


SS-339 Catfish after her modernisation, 1969.


SS-339 Catfish before and after the upgrade

The fleet also included two modern Type 209 submarines. These submarines were designed in West Germany by Ingenieurkontor Lübeck, Project IK-68, and their sections were built at the HDW shipyards in Kiel. In 1974, after being assembled in Argentina, the submarines S-31 Salta and S-32 San Luis joined the Argentine fleet. When used skilfully, these submarines represented a serious threat. A good example is provided by their sister submarines in the Peruvian Navy. During the inter-American Unitas-1996 exercises, for example, Pisagua sank the US SSN Narwhal six times, always being the first to attack the surface ships. In 2001, during the US-Peruvian SIFOREX-2001 exercises, a Peruvian submarine sank a US frigate. Since then, every year one of the Peruvian submarines has taken part in US anti-submarine exercises in the Atlantic, based at Norfolk.


Argentine Type 209 submarine

At the outbreak of hostilities, only S-32 San Luis was operational, while her sister, S-31 Salta, was undergoing repairs. She sailed in mid-April, but because of excessive noise, never entered combat. To replace the Balao-class submarines, the submarines S-41 Santa Cruz and S-42 San Juan were being built in West Germany to the TR 1700 design. The most experienced submariners were assigned to commission them, creating certain difficulties in manning the remaining submarines. Construction of four more submarines of this type was planned at a Buenos Aires shipyard. Had this plan been implemented, it would have given the military junta led by General Galtieri a very persuasive argument: eight latest-generation submarines.

Specifications S-21 Santa Fe S-32 San Luis
Displacement, t:
surfaced
submerged
1870
2340
1248
1440
Maximum length, m 93.9 55.9
Maximum beam, m 8.3 6.3
Mean draught, m 5.2 5.5
Hull design type double hull single hull
Operational diving depth, m 150 250 (max. 500)
Endurance, days ? 50
Number × power (type) of diesel engines, hp 4 × ? (General Motors 16-278A) 4 × 600 (MTU 12V493AZ80)
Number × power of electric propulsion motors, hp 2 × 2400 1 × 4600
Maximum speed, knots:
surfaced
under snorkel
submerged
18
9
15 - one hour, 6 - 34 days
10
11
22
Range (at speed, knots), miles:
surfaced
economical submerged
10,000 (10)
95 (5)
6000 (8)
400 (4)
Torpedo armament:
number of torpedo tubes (bow/stern) × calibre, mm
torpedo stowage (type)
10 (6/4) × 533
24 (Mk 14, Mk 37)
8 × 533
14 (SST-4, Mk 37)

Main tactical and technical characteristics of Argentine submarines

Actions of the submarine "Santa Fe"


In late March 1982, the Argentine Armed Forces launched Operation Rosario to recover the Malvinas Islands and South Georgia. Three naval forces were created for this purpose: a covering force, Task Force 20; a landing force for the Malvinas, Task Force 40; and a landing force for South Georgia, Task Force 60. Task Force 40 included a landing ship, two transports, two destroyers, two corvettes and the submarine S-21 Santa Fe. The submarine was assigned two missions: first, to land the tactical group Task Unit 40.1.1, made up of 13 naval special-forces combat divers, Agrupación de Buzos Tácticos - APBT, near Cape San Felipe, north of Port Stanley, to capture the Cape Pembroke lighthouse and Port Stanley airport — this mission was later cancelled — and to reconnoitre and mark the main force landing area, the "Yellow Zone"; the second was to patrol the assigned area.

Due to her poor technical condition, the submarine’s combat value was practically nil: worn batteries required a long time to charge and limited the time she could remain submerged, some of the torpedo tubes were inoperative and many systems were unreliable. The maximum diving depth was reduced to 120 m.

At 23:00 on 27 March, Santa Fe, under Captain Horacio Bicain and with an ARVT detachment commanded by Captain Alfredo Cufré, left the Mar del Plata naval base. Despite strong winds, the passage passed without incident on 28 March. The next day, taking advantage of improved weather, ARVT carried out a landing exercise with personnel in inflatable boats in sea state 2 to 3. Later, the wind increased to 40-50 km/h, prompting the order to delay the start of the operation by 24 hours, until 22:00 on 30 April; the landing had initially been scheduled for 1 April.

On 31 March, the submarine approached the north-eastern coast of Gran Malvina (East Falkland) to reconnoitre the currents and determine the landing area. The sonar operators detected the sound of a propeller, and periscope observations revealed lights on the shore, vehicle movement and a ship leaving Port Stanley; this ship was the Royal Navy’s A171 Endurance, en route to South Georgia.

On 1 April, the submarine commander received an order changing the combat mission, under which the APBT was to mark the "Red Section" landing area north of the previously planned landing zone. At 12:30 on 1 April, due to an electrical fault, the submarine lost radio contact, and at 17:30 the submarine and APBT commanders decided to begin the landing without waiting for contact with command. While approaching the coast at 23:50, the radar station failed and did not work again until 1:00 a.m. The landing took place north of Punta Celebronya, near Rinión Island. At 2:30, the APBT began boarding three inflatable boats, which set off from one side and reached the shore at 2:50. At 3:35, the reconnaissance and marking with signal lights of the main force landing area in York Bay was successfully completed. Shortly afterwards, the 2nd Battalion of the Argentine Marine Corps landed here from the landing ship Cabo San Antonio.


Routes of the Argentine naval force for the capture of South Georgia and the Malvinas Islands.


Capture of Port Stanley: 1 - Argentine landing in the Malvinas Islands; 2 - Reconnaissance by the submarine Santa Fe and marking of the "red section" of the landing between 02:30 and 03:35 on 2 April 1982; 5 - Landing of marines from Cabo San Antonio at 06:30 on 2 April 1982.

Santa Fe then moved to patrol area 080 San Felipe 60, 100 miles east of Port Stanley, before returning to Mar del Plata on 7 April. The trip back to base was not without incidents: communications were intermittent, the cooling system suffered constant failures, the bilge pumps could only operate at periscope depth, the main engines’ oil consumption exceeded all permitted limits, and the outer cover of the rubbish-disposal hatch jammed open.

Personnel from the Mar del Plata Naval Arsenal and Santa Fe worked non-stop for eight days to fix the problems and prepare the submarine for deployment. Twenty-three torpedoes, 20 Mk14 and the rest Mk37, fuel, fresh water and provisions for 60 days were loaded aboard. At that time, the arsenal had only 12 torpedoes of the required type, received from the United States along with the submarines, so the remaining torpedoes were provided by "friendly" countries — Peru? The Mk37 torpedoes could only be fired from the bow torpedo tubes.


Mk14 torpedo


Mk37 torpedo

Santa Fe’s main mission was to deliver 20 marines, Golf Group, armed with Bantam anti-tank missiles, recoilless guns and anti-tank grenade launchers to reinforce the South Georgia garrison, four tonnes of ammunition and equipment, and a new commander for the Argentine garrison on the island. The boat would subsequently patrol north of the island. Owing to uncertainty over the outcome of diplomatic negotiations between Britain and Argentina, Horacio Bicain was ordered to avoid engaging the enemy first, which considerably reduced his chances of success.

Santa Fe sailed from Mar del Plata at 23:30 on 16 April, and a few miles out new problems arose. The electrical control system of the propulsion system failed, leaving the boat adrift for three hours while repairs were made. The following day, the piston of diesel engine No. 1 failed, requiring 24 hours to bring it back into service. On 19 April, a failure in the cooling-pump gear caused diesel engine No. 4 to overheat. Emergency repairs with epoxy resins took 48 hours. This caused a delay in the planned landing.

On 20 April, due to bad weather, the submarine was forced to dive and continue the voyage submerged, which further delayed the landing. Between 21 and 22 April, despite a strong storm, Santa Fe continued surfacing, causing damage to the bridge rail and superstructure. The submarine submerged again. The damaged hull vibrated, interfering with the sonar system and revealing the submarine’s presence.

On 23 April they surfaced to find and remove the source of the noise. By then, the delay had reached 36 hours. That afternoon, the Antarctic patrol ship HMS Endurance intercepted a coded radio message indicating the presence of an enemy submarine, presumably Santa Fe, 100 miles from South Georgia. This caused some concern among the British command, as two British tankers were in the area transferring fuel from one ship to another.

The frigate HMS Plymouth was sent to the area to protect the tankers and escort them beyond the 200-mile zone. Admiral Sandy Woodward noted in his memoirs, One Hundred Days:

Tension was rising and the operation in South Georgia seemed to be stalled by fear of an Argentine submarine. Unfortunately, the range of our patrol aircraft from Ascension Island was insufficient.

The frigate HMS Brilliant and the nuclear submarine HMS Conqueror were sent to reinforce the British anti-submarine force heading for the island.

Santa Fe received information on the location of British ships near South Georgia from Argentine Air Force reconnaissance aircraft, C-130 Hercules and Boeing 707. For example, Endurance intercepted radio signals from the Boeing addressed to the submarine, indicating that it was heading towards the island to deploy special forces and had orders to sink Endurance.


HMS Endurance

In the early hours of 24 April, news was received that British forces had begun the liberation of South Georgia. Santa Fe’s commander received orders to speed up the operation. It was decided to head for Cape North, the western end of the island, and then to Cumberland Bay. The boat remained surfaced all night, submerged at 5:00 a.m. and snorkelled until dusk.

At 11:30 p.m., Santa Fe reached her destination and, stopping one mile from King Edward Point, unloaded Golf Group and the cargo between 2:30 a.m. and 4:30 a.m. using a motor launch captured from a British polar station. After completing the unloading, the boat’s commander decided to seek shelter in one of the many bays, carry out repairs and then proceed to the patrol area. But one hour later, when the boat was five miles from Grytviken, the administrative centre of the British Overseas Territory of South Georgia and the South Sandwich Islands, a battle alarm sounded: radar detected an approaching air target.


South Georgia

It was a Wessex helicopter piloted by Lieutenant Commander Stanley from the destroyer HMS Antrim. The destroyer’s sonar detected the noise of the Argentine submarine at a distance of approximately 50 miles. The helicopter dropped two Mk II depth charges, with fuzes set to minimum depth, which detonated off the starboard stern. The resulting damage prevented the submarine from diving. The submariners, in turn, opened fire on the Wessex with small arms.


A Wasp helicopter with an AS 12 missile


Wasp helicopter attacks Santa Fe


Depth-charge attack on Santa Fe

The Sea Lynx and Wasp helicopters from HMS Endurance, HMS Plymouth and HMS Brilliant arrived shortly afterwards, launching a Mk 46 torpedo, which passed beneath the submarine’s hull, and attacking her with AS 12 missiles and machine-gun fire. Three AS 12 missiles struck the fibreglass structure of the conning tower but did not detonate, disabling the snorkel and other retractable devices and seriously wounding a crew member. To avoid further casualties, Bikain ordered the crew to take shelter inside the pressure hull and, at 7:30, approached the quay at King Edward Point using a periscope.

Under cover of fire from the Argentine marines, the submariners abandoned their boat and took refuge ashore. A few hours later, the South Georgia garrison surrendered to the British with virtually no resistance; the island had been called San Pedro for only 23 days. The only fatal casualty of the operation was a Santa Fe sailor, who was immediately evacuated by helicopter to Antrim, where he underwent a successful leg-amputation operation.


A Sea Lynx helicopter with a torpedo slung underneath.


Frigate HMS Brilliant

The captured Argentines were housed in a building near the quay. Santa Fe’s commander requested permission for several members of his crew to return aboard the submarine to collect personal belongings, food and medical supplies. The request was granted, and half a dozen petty officers, escorted by British marines, boarded the submarine. Some managed to enter the heads and the galley and open the water-system valves to flood the submarine. The next day, the British decided to re-moor the boat about 400 metres from the quay of the old whaling plant in Grytviken, since the ammunition and batteries aboard posed a serious danger. In addition to the submarine’s commander, six other crew members took part in the mooring, supervised by a group of British marines. By then, the submarine’s stern had begun to sink, and a rotary blower was used to empty the ballast tanks and maintain buoyancy. Propulsion was provided by electric motors, using remaining electrical power. During the re-mooring, a tragedy occurred: Petty Officer Félix Artuso, who was operating the compressor and the diving-and-surfacing system valves, was killed. The English sentry, unfamiliar with submarines, mistook Artuso’s rapid movements — he had to operate 24 valves simultaneously — for an attempt to sink the submarine. The submariner did not understand English and did not respond to the warnings. The sentry fired a burst from his Sterling submachine gun.


Félix Artuso

Under these circumstances, the mooring was cancelled and, a few days later, Santa Fe sank at her mooring in 20 metres of water, listing to port. Only the superstructure railing remained afloat. The deceased submariner was buried with military honours in the local cemetery. The remaining crew members were transferred aboard the tanker RFA Tidespring to Ascension Island, and from there a chartered KLM aircraft flew to Montevideo.


The funeral of F. Artuso in Grytviken cemetery.


Santa Fe semi-submerged at the Grytviken quay.

After the end of the war, the British Ministry of Defence decided to refloat Santa Fe, which was obstructing the quay and, moreover, whose torpedoes and other ammunition aboard posed a serious danger. Work began at the end of June and was carried out by the crews of Endurance, the tug Typhoon and the salvage vessel Salvageman. Their task was to pump the water from the flooded compartments using portable pumps and, subsequently, to empty the ballast tanks with the compressed air remaining in the submarine’s cylinders. The situation was complicated by the virtual absence of submarine-engineering specialists; only two Endurance officers, a hydrographer and a supply officer, had served briefly in a submarine. There were also no plans of the submarine. Nevertheless, after more than two weeks of intense work, Santa Fe was afloat again, albeit with a 25-degree list.


Santa Fe alongside Salvageman after the boat had been raised.

This is how Endurance’s commander, N. Barker, described the scene that unfolded before the British sailors:

We also discovered a considerable collection of weapons, including torpedoes, mines, boxes of small arms, ammunition and explosives. Four homing torpedoes were piled up in the bunks, as if they were plague victims. A large number of torpedoes were stored on racks, in the removable deck flooring and in the torpedo tubes. One of the tubes was empty; they were probably trying to sink one of our ships, and it may have been us!
On 15 July, a team of specialists arrived from England to inspect Santa Fe, which had been pumped out. We all recognised a serious problem: the large quantities of TNT, which were drying out rapidly, were becoming increasingly unstable. Thanks to our efforts, Santa Fe had become a floating time bomb.


The divers prepare to inspect Santa Fe.

Therefore, it was decided to tow the vessel to a safer place and beach her there with the hatches and bulkhead doors open. It was believed that this would gradually flood the compartments and make the wet TNT safe again.


Santa Fe is being towed to the beach.

Between 1984 and 1985, after four months of work — the divers made 868 dives — the RMAS rescue ships Goosander and Salvageman, using 10 inflatable pontoons, refloated the submarine on 11 February 1985 and, after removing harmful substances, including diesel fuel, attempted to tow her to deep water away from the coast on 20 February 1985, Operation Okehampton, but the submarine sank 5 miles north of South Georgia at a depth of 350 m.


Raising of Santa Fe


Santa Fe is being towed to the sinking site.

To be continued ...

Saturday, May 23, 2026

Malvinas: Argentine Naval Prefecture Shot Down a Harrier


1982, The Malvinas War
22 May, Choiseul Sound
Argentine Naval Prefecture Vs Royal Navy
Z-28 Patrol Boat Vs Sea Harrier Fighter

David Vs Goliath






On 22 May 1982, at 08:25, the GC-83, a small Z-28 patrol launch of the Argentine Naval Prefecture, the PNA Río Iguazú, commanded by Deputy Prefect Eduardo Adolfo Olmedo with 14 men under his orders, was sailing through Choiseul Sound and was about to reach Darwin. She was carrying two 105/14 mm Otto Melara Mk-56 howitzers and 15 Argentine Army artillerymen as artillery reinforcement for Lieutenant Chanampa, when she was intercepted and attacked by two Sea Harrier aircraft. The Argentine vessel was destroyed — but not before knocking one Sea Harrier out of action and damaging another.

When Argentina recovered the Malvinas Islands on 2 April 1982, that very same day, after expelling the English usurping authorities, it began the immediate military withdrawal back to the mainland. Argentina decided to deploy only a limited unit for policing duties until the United Nations resolved the dispute. Thus, two patrol launches from the Argentine Naval Prefecture were sent to the islands for coastguard, policing and SAR duties, in compliance with UN Security Council Resolution 502, while Great Britain was violating that same resolution by sending a massive naval invasion force from 5 April onwards.

The GC-83 Río Iguazú was assigned to the mission together with the GC-82 Islas Malvinas. The two small security vessels of the Argentine Naval Prefecture were placed under the Malvinas Naval Command and were tasked with everything from reconnaissance to logistical supply for the different garrisons scattered across the islands, patrol work, radar sweeps, pilotage for ships entering Puerto Argentino so they could be guided clear of mined areas, communications interception, and search-and-rescue missions.

While carrying out one of those missions — supplying a garrison — on 22 May, the vessel undertook what, unbeknown to her crew, would be her final run. The coastguard launch left Puerto Argentino. Her task was to transport 15 men from Battery A of the Argentine Army’s 4th Airborne Artillery Group, along with the two Otto Melara howitzers already mentioned. Since those pieces could be dismantled for mountain use, they were taken apart and stowed below deck on the small vessel, so as not to endanger her stability. She was bound for Goose Green, where it was already expected that the enemy would make its move before attempting to assault Puerto Argentino, the main objective.

At 08:25, over Choiseul Bay on Gran Malvinas Island (East Falkland), the patrol launch was intercepted by two Sea Harrier FRS.1 fighter-bombers of the Royal Navy. The crew of the Río Iguazú mistook them for RAF Harrier GR.3s. They were caught off guard. The Sea Harriers came in low, proper low, and opened fire with their 30 mm ADEN cannon, mortally damaging the vessel, killing Corporal Benítez and seriously wounding Assistant Baccaro and Corporal Bengoechea, all gunners on the ship’s M2HB .50 calibre machine gun, with which they had been returning enemy fire.

The British rounds also struck the rudder, destroyed the electrical panel, and opened a breach in the hull, which led to flooding in the engine room. With the electrical panel out of action, the bilge pumps could no longer be used effectively, and the ship was done for. Deputy Prefect Olmedo therefore made the decision to beach the Río Iguazú on the coast, so that, once stabilised, the crew could better concentrate the fire of their weapons and, at the same time, protect the men ashore until they could be rescued.

Even so, while that was being attempted, Second Corporal Julio Omar Benítez, who was operating one of the machine guns, had already been killed by a shot to the chest, leaving that weapon out of action. The other machine gun, manned by Third Assistant Juan José Baccaro, was also put out of service, while Baccaro and Second Corporal Carlos Bengoechea were both seriously wounded, along with Principal Officer Gabino González.

Olmedo presented the stern of the GC-83, where the two machine-gun mounts were located, to face the second attacking pass of the Sea Harriers now bearing down on them. But with all the vessel’s gunners either dead or wounded, it was Second Corporal José Raúl Ibáñez, an engine-room man, who at that moment was trying to bail out a breach that had already become unstoppable. Water was coming in with such pressure that the jet was smashing against the engine-room ceiling. When he came up on deck to report the situation, he was met with the grim sight of Baccaro and Bengoechea dragging themselves across the deck, and Benítez dead at the foot of the machine gun.

Although Ibáñez had no specific training as a machine-gunner, he did know how to use the weapon. He saw that the Sea Harriers were already diving once again towards the vessel and immediately took Benítez’s place at the Browning .50 calibre machine gun. He aimed and began firing at the attacking aircraft, shouting:

“¡Viva la Patria!” — Long live the Fatherland!

His courage and marksmanship allowed him to hit one of the Sea Harriers that was approaching from astern, firing at point-blank range. The aircraft withdrew inland, trailing a thick plume of smoke behind it. The other aircraft managed to veer away and left the area, following its badly wounded mate.

Minutes later, the vessel ran aground. The crew disembarked and took shelter on land, tending to the wounded, and by nightfall they were evacuated. Later, the howitzers and ammunition, which had remained inside the vessel in a section that had been flooded, were recovered by an improvised diving mission carried out by Chanampa’s men. They were then transported to Darwin by helicopter. In this way, the mission assigned to the Río Iguazú was completed after all, and those guns went on to take part in the fierce fighting that later broke out at Darwin-Goose Green.

And what happened to the English aircraft and its pilot? The CIC at Puerto Argentino, using its AN/TPS-43 radar, had detected three aircraft and was able to monitor two of them breaking off for the attack. Later, it tracked the withdrawal of the three aircraft until one of them began descending and disappeared a few kilometres from the target, while the other two continued flying until they were lost beyond the radar horizon. Naturally, the British did not acknowledge any loss at the time.

According to the British, the Sea Harriers involved were XZ496, flown by Lieutenant Hale, to whom they attributed the attack, and XZ460, commanded by Lieutenant Commander Frederiksen, who provided top cover. Not only do they deny that any aircraft was damaged, they also make no reference whatsoever to the third aircraft detected by the CIC at Puerto Argentino.

In Argentina, it is taken as fact that a Sea Harrier was shot down — almost certainly ZA192, flown by Lieutenant Commander Gordon Batt, who was killed. Batt had been one of those who attacked and sank the Argentine fishing vessel Narwal while it was carrying out intelligence work, and for that he was decorated posthumously with the DFC. The British, however, claim that the loss of this aircraft and pilot occurred, with no rational explanation to this day, one day later — on 23 May — when, after allegedly taking off alone, something impossible since British fighters operated in pairs or threes, the aircraft mysteriously exploded without reporting any fault or alarm and fell into the sea without leaving a trace.

The wounded Argentines were transported by Air Force helicopters to Puerto Argentino for treatment. The rest of the crew, including the Army personnel who had not suffered casualties, were taken to the settlement at Darwin, where they remained for two days until they could be returned to Puerto Argentino, where their presence was later deemed unnecessary for the fighting.

On 24 May, the remains of Second Corporal Julio Omar Benítez were buried with military honours at Darwin, in the presence of his Prefecture comrades who had not yet been evacuated, as well as senior personnel and troops from the Army and Air Force of the local garrison.

When the fighting at Darwin-Goose Green ended, Royal Navy experts inspected the GC-83 and determined that she could be recovered. But bad luck for them: on 13 June 1982, a Royal Navy Lynx helicopter, XZ691 of 815 Squadron, assigned to the Leander-class frigate HMS Penelope, mistook her for a vessel on an incursion and fired a Sea Skua missile, which struck the launch’s bridge and rendered her completely useless.

While the GC-82 was captured when Puerto Argentino fell the following day, the GC-83 remained abandoned for many years at the spot where she had been beached, until, on an undetermined date, she was freed, towed to a deeper area of the bay, and sunk. Not like what was done with the submarine ARA Santa Fe in South Georgia, which they tried to take to the United Kingdom as a war trophy, only for the operation to fail and the submarine to sink hundreds of kilometres off the South Georgia coast — when she could perfectly well have been sunk a couple of kilometres offshore, where she posed no danger whatsoever to navigation.

Second Corporal Julio Omar Benítez was promoted posthumously to the rank of First Corporal and was awarded the medal “The Argentine Nation to the Fallen in Combat.”

Second Corporal José Raúl Ibáñez, a Corrientes man from the town of Libertador, in the district of Esquina, received the highest decoration in existence: “The Argentine Nation for Heroic Valour in Combat.” In 1984 he married. He has one daughter, Rocío Belén, and two sons, Hernán and Gustavo Joaquín. He continued serving the Fatherland, proudly wearing the uniform of the Argentine Naval Prefecture, until reaching the highest rank in his career branch, and now enjoys his recent retirement.

The Argentine wounded were awarded the medal “The Argentine Nation to the Wounded in Combat.”

All of Benítez’s comrades, the crewmen of the Río Iguazú, also received the distinctions “Operations in Malvinas” and “Prefecture in Malvinas,” which to this day they wear with pride for having fulfilled their duty and their oath to defend the Fatherland — just like San Martín’s grenadiers, Brown’s sailors, Güemes’s gauchos, Mansilla’s artillerymen, Roca’s horsemen, the engineers of Manchala, the infantrymen of the 29th Regiment of Formosa, and the soldiers and policemen of La Tablada.

As the Liberator, General Don José de San Martín, rightly said:

“Argentines are not empanadas to be eaten with no more effort than opening one’s mouth.”

FIRST CORPORAL JULIO OMAR BENÍTEZ — SALUTE!
LONG LIVE THE FATHERLAND!

Images: We see the heroic PNA Second Corporal José Raúl Ibáñez of the coastguard GC-83 Río Iguazú, later as First Corporal; in another image, in the Malvinas, still a Second Corporal, holding the M2HB with which he would be responsible for the downing of Sea Harrier ZA192; and later, as a Senior Non-Commissioned Officer, acting as standard-bearer for the Argentine Naval Prefecture at an official ceremony. There are also images of the Río Iguazú and her crew during operations in the Malvinas; Sea Harriers in action; the Islas Malvinas captured by the British and moored alongside HMS Cardiff; a Z-28 class patrol launch in its traditional peacetime livery; the Río Iguazú out of action in Choiseul Sound; and the man from Entre Ríos, born in Basavilbaso, PNA Second Corporal Julio Omar Benítez, 1962–1982, who joined the Argentine Naval Prefecture in 1979 and gave his life for the Fatherland on that 22 May 1982.

Wednesday, April 1, 2026

Diplomacy: José María Ruda at the UN in 1964

José María Ruda Action at the UN in 1964




In 1964, an Argentine diplomat succeeded in placing the question of the Malvinas at the heart of world politics. It was not a symbolic gesture, nor a rhetorical exercise designed merely to place a protest on record. It was a legal and diplomatic intervention of remarkable precision, conceived to demonstrate before the United Nations that the British presence in the Islas Malvinas was not the product of some natural or uncontested historical development, but the consequence of a colonial act of force carried out in 1833.

On 9 September 1964, Ambassador José María Ruda appeared before the United Nations Special Committee on Decolonisation and set out Argentina’s case with clarity, discipline and firmness. His argument was straightforward in form, yet profound in its legal implications: the Islas Malvinas formed part of Argentine territory and had remained under unlawful British occupation since the expulsion of the Argentine authorities established there in 1833. In presenting the matter in those terms, Ruda did more than restate a national claim. He framed the dispute within the language of international legality, stripped it of imperial narrative, and restored it to its true character as an unresolved question of sovereignty.

The force of his address lay not only in the historical account of the British seizure, but in the legal consequences that flowed from it. Ruda argued that, following the occupation, the Argentine presence on the islands was displaced and a new population was established under British colonial authority. That point was fundamental. It meant that the present-day population of the islands could not be treated, in strict legal terms, as though it existed independently of the original act of force. To do so would be to convert the effects of occupation into a source of legal entitlement.

It was precisely on this ground that Ruda rejected any attempt to present the case as one of self-determination in the ordinary colonial sense. His position was that this principle could not properly be invoked to validate a demographic and political situation created by the very act whose legality was in dispute. The governing principle, he maintained, was that of the territorial integrity of states, a principle no less central to the post-war international legal order. In juridical terms, his reasoning was compelling: self-determination cannot be detached from the circumstances in which a population came to be constituted, nor can it be used to sanctify the consequences of territorial dispossession brought about by force.

The international climate of the time gave his intervention even greater significance. The world was in the midst of decolonisation, and the United Nations had already adopted Resolution 1514, the Declaration on the Granting of Independence to Colonial Countries and Peoples, calling for the speedy and unconditional end of colonialism in all its forms and manifestations. Ruda’s achievement was to place the question of the Malvinas within that great historical current while also distinguishing its specific legal character. He showed that this was not a conventional colonial case, but a singular and serious dispute involving the occupation by a colonial power of part of the national territory of Argentina.

The result was historic. In 1965, the General Assembly adopted Resolution 2065, formally recognising the existence of a sovereignty dispute between Argentina and the United Kingdom and calling upon both governments to pursue negotiations. That was a decisive development. The United Nations did not treat the matter as settled, nor did it reduce it to a question of local preference. It acknowledged, instead, that there was a bilateral dispute requiring a negotiated solution in accordance with the purposes and principles of the Charter. In legal and diplomatic terms, this remains one of the most important achievements ever secured by Argentina in the international arena.

More than six decades later, Ruda’s address still stands as a central point of reference because it united patriotism with legal discipline, national conviction with international argument. The Malvinas are not merely a matter of memory, nor a relic of past grievance. They represent a question of sovereignty that bears directly upon the South Atlantic, its natural resources, its maritime routes, and Argentina’s strategic projection towards Antarctica. At a time when the region is once again attracting growing geopolitical attention, the Argentine position demands seriousness, continuity and a firm sense of state policy. The strength of the national case has never rested on improvisation, sentimentality or passing formulas, but on a coherent legal foundation sustained across time. That is why Ruda’s intervention endures: not simply as an eloquent speech, but as one of the clearest juridical defences ever made of Argentina’s rights over the Islas Malvinas.


Saturday, March 21, 2026

Malvinas: Jeremy Moore, His Ostracism

 

“The Ostracism of Jeremy Moore”

One does not always receive a warm welcome on returning from a war. And this applies not only to the defeated, but also to the victors. Even, indeed, to supposedly victorious generals.

Of the three British generals who directed operations on land, two were forced into retirement after the conflict because of their poor handling of the wartime situation. Not even the supreme commander of the British land forces sent to Malvinas, Major General John Jeremy Moore of the Royal Marines, escaped ostracism. After the conflict, following only the minimal and strictly prescribed honours required by law (he was merely made a Knight Commander of the Order of the Bath, which he had already received in 1973), he made a very swift and discreet exit from the service in 1983.

Margaret Thatcher’s government never forgave him for the setbacks of the campaign, of which there were no few for the British. He was also held responsible for the disaster at Bluff Cove, a landing near Puerto Argentino which ended with two ships put out of action and heavy human and material losses as a result of attacks by the Argentine Air Force. Nor was it of any help that he sent to London what he himself called daily rubbish — rubbish or daily drivel, in plain terms. These were colloquial-style messages, full of optimism to the point of stretching credibility, concealing the fact that he was unable to secure the great and rapid victory being demanded of him, with which the Argentines stubbornly refused to cooperate, clinging fiercely to every inch of ground.

However, what sealed his fate was his disobedience of the order to demand an unconditional surrender from the Argentines. After the conflict had ended, Moore said that he had been greatly troubled by the possibility that fighting might resume. Although the Argentines had withdrawn from the heights dominating the capital, the British were equally exhausted and short of ammunition. For that reason, he removed the word unconditional from the instrument of surrender.

In an article written by Ana Barón shortly before the first anniversary of the war for Gente magazine, it was stated: “Today Jeremy Moore is no longer a general. This man has become one of the approximately four million unemployed in Great Britain. His pension is 1,500 dollars a month, that is to say half the salary he earned when he was still in service. Evidently, that sum is not enough to pay for the education of his three children: for the time being he manages by making television programmes about the war. But he knows that this is not a solution. At fifty-four years of age, no one resigns himself to being without work, much less someone who has led a life as eventful as General Moore’s.”

In that interview — conducted despite the obstacles placed by the British Ministry of Defence, which claimed not to know where Moore was living — he declared in a tone of regret: “I feel great sadness when I think that we had to endure a war simply because there were people with political power who did not know how to solve the problem by peaceful means.”

He never wished to write a book about the war, and passed his idle hours serving as churchwarden of the church in Wiltshire where he lived, until his death on Saturday, 15 September 2007.

It was not until Monday the 17th that The Times published his obituary. Naturally, it extolled his figure as a military leader. An obituary written in very professional terms… and nothing more.

In the same newspaper, the obituary for Galtieri, who died on 12 January 2003, not only appeared the day after the event, but was also twice the length of the one devoted to Moore.

The Guardian and The Daily Telegraph published the news the following day. In the former, it appeared only on page 42 of the main section, and on the Telegraph website the story did not receive a single comment. For its part, The Independent did not report his death until 26 September.

The British Ministry of Defence, when consulted by the AFP news agency, said that “no comment was to be made on his death”, arguing that “he was no longer in active service”.

Friday, March 13, 2026

Malvinas: Cover Operation Blackleg

The Royal Navy lost several warships to air attacks during the 1982 Malvinas War. One of them, the destroyer HMS Coventry, sank in relatively shallow waters, and London feared that the Soviets might attempt to strip the wreck of highly classified equipment and documents. A bold underwater salvage mission was organised using a team of Royal Navy divers to recover the classified material, initially designated Operation Blackleg. It was a highly risky and dangerous mission carried out under extremely difficult circumstances.

Friday, December 26, 2025

Malvinas: Call Sign Fortin 1

Call Sign Fortín 1




In 1982, he was an experienced squadron leader in the VI Air Brigade. Assigned with his squadron to the San Julián Military Air Base, on May 1st he answered the bugle call and climbed into the aircraft. The FORTIN fighters were to cover the attack and subsequent return of the TORNO squadron on a bombing mission. After takeoff, as a precaution, he ordered the cannons tested. He pulled the trigger several times and checked the fuses: his cannons weren't working. Perhaps he should return, but... how could he leave his comrade alone? "It doesn't matter," he thought, "the British don't know my weapons aren't working." While the TORNO fighters were successfully attacking the ships shelling the Malvinas runway, a British patrol began to pursue them. The Malvinas radar operator, who also didn't know that FORTÍN 1 lacked cannons, ordered it to position itself between the two squadrons. The pilot ordered the jettisoning of its auxiliary fuel tanks and dove toward the Harriers. The sun in its face jammed its missiles, preventing them from launching, but "the British probably don't know that either," he figured, and continued accelerating, trying to impress the enemy. The false signal of the ace of spades worked. Alerted by a ship's radar, the British broke off the pursuit.



On May 21, dozens of ships invaded the San Carlos Strait. In a small bay, they began their landing, and only the air force was there to try and stop them. This time, FORTÍN 1 was ordered to load bombs. It took off at the head of three M-5s, hoping to hit the target. Formed in line, about two hundred meters apart, they approached the area. Ears, attentive to instructions; eyes, searching for the distant silhouette of the enemy. Suddenly, a number sounded the alert: “Aircraft to the right.” Going against orders to jettison the bombs and return, the hunter's spirit of FORTÍN 1 prepared to engage them. He lightened the aircraft, traded speed for altitude, a Harrier below his Dagger, and he dove. Without tracer ammunition, guided by instinct, he predicted the opponent's trajectory and angrily squeezed the trigger. It was a hypnotic instant, an instant in which he imagined that one of his shots would hit the Harrier, an instant in which he had to react and recover the aircraft plummeting to only thirty or forty meters above the ground. He initiated a turn, attempting to engage again, but abruptly lost control. A missile had mortally wounded his Dagger, and the only option was to abandon it. He reached the ejection seat; the explosive charges ripped the cockpit apart, then his seat was ejected, the wind buffeted him, and he quickly deployed his parachute. One push and he was suspended in mid-air. As he fell, Captain Guillermo Donadille tried to recall the instructions from the survival course, those given to hunters for when the fate of combat abruptly clips their wings... but not their spirit.



 

Sunday, December 14, 2025

Vuelta de Obligado: Argentine Captured Flags

Flags Captured at Vuelta de Obligado

Revisionistas


 
Flag returned by Admiral Sullivan in 1883. Currently in the National Historical Museum of Buenos Aires.

The first flag shown in this article is of merchant origin and belonged to one of the 24 coastal vessels or barges that, chained together, were anchored at Obligado to block the passage of the Anglo-French fleet. It is one of those banners that came in various sizes and bore different Federalist symbols, but they were not Argentine war flags.

It was captured by the forces of Admiral D.B.J. Sullivan after the battle on 20 November 1845 and returned in 1883 by the same admiral at the Argentine legation in London. It was received by the Argentine consul Alberto A. Guerrico, as a tribute to the bravery shown by Colonel Ramón Rodríguez, who led the 2nd Battalion of the Patricios Infantry Regiment at the Battle of Vuelta de Obligado.

Sullivan confused Colonel Rodríguez with the heroic Lieutenant Colonel Juan Bautista Thorne, who was in charge of the “Manuelita” battery and was the last to retreat from the battlefield, on 21 November.

According to the British admiral’s account, when the flag was lowered by the British, it fell upon the bodies of the fallen and was stained with patriotic blood.

It measures 4 metres in length by 2.5 metres in width, like all large naval flags. Due to its dimensions and the absence of the mandatory slogans from the Rosas era, it does not conform to the regulations for Federalist war flags. Therefore, it did not belong to any battalion and was not considered a trophy—although the French believe otherwise. They had four similar flags in the Hôtel des Invalides in Paris (now the Army Museum), registered under numbers 329 to 333 in the catalogue of the Musée de l’Armée by General Noix, page 164, under the title Drapeaux et Trophées, with an excerpt from a document: the Procès-verbal de réception de cinq drapeaux pris au combat d’Obligado dans le Paraná.

The battle report from Obligado by Captain Hotham, a subordinate officer under Sullivan, does not mention the capture of any flags. Nor is there any record from Lucio N. Mansilla of any ensign being lost.

The author Martiniano Leguizamón addressed this subject in two articles published in the newspaper La Nación. Evaristo Ramírez Juárez, for his part, drew accurate conclusions in his work Las banderas cautivas, where he includes photographs of the chapel of St. Louis in the Hôtel des Invalides, showing those very poorly preserved flags, taken in the 1930s. Lieutenant Colonel Ramírez Juárez wrote:

“1st – The flags said to have been taken at Obligado by the French and British were likely from merchant ships requisitioned by Mansilla, or from others of the same kind.

2nd – No combat flags were captured from the Argentine land or naval forces that fought at Vuelta de Obligado.”.




Flag hanging from the central nave of the Chapel of St. Louis, Paris, France

Moreover, the official report by French Admiral Trehouart refers to “…several Argentine flags taken from the batteries and the vessels that formed the barricade (ships holding the chains).”

The flag taken by the French at Obligado is composed of three horizontal stripes: the top and bottom ones are turquoise blue, and the middle stripe is white with a red punzó sun in the centre. The sun features a face surrounded by 32 rays. In each of the four corners are red Phrygian caps with pikes or spears, made of flannel, cut out and sewn onto the flag.

The flag is made of flannel, not silk as was customary for national or war flags. Along the hoist side, it has a braided cord forming loops at both ends. It is held at the National Historical Museum in the city of Buenos Aires, under file number 2568, folder 326. It was donated by the Municipal Government of the City of Buenos Aires on 18 April 1891, under the designation: “Flag taken by the British at the Battle of Obligado.”

One of the merchant flags that was in Paris (number 330) was returned by French President Jacques Chirac during his visit to our country in 1999 and was received by the Director of the National Historical Museum, Dr Juan José Cresto. It is now housed in that museum and, undoubtedly, beyond its vexillological interest, it holds significant historical value. It is identical to the one returned by Sullivan.

Two other Argentine merchant flags from Obligado (numbers 329 and 331) are believed to have been lost during the Second World War, either during the German occupation of Paris or due to deterioration. The Army Museum decommissioned them in 1957. The fate of flags numbered 332 and 333 is unknown; they measured 2.40 m by 1.35 m and bore no distinctive features.

At present, there is an Argentine flag—without sun, Phrygian caps in the corners, or inscriptions—hanging from the central nave of the Chapel of St. Louis. It appears to be new or restored. Of the two remaining Argentine flags mentioned above, and given that diplomatic enquiries made to the French Embassy in Buenos Aires have failed to clarify the matter, could it be one of the original merchant flags from 1845, now restored? We do not know.

Source

Efemérides – Patricios de Vuelta de Obligado
Leguizamón, Martiniano – Hombres y cosas que pasaron – Buenos Aires (1926)
Peña, J. M. y Alonso, J. L. – Las banderas de los argentinos – Aluar, Buenos Aires (2009)
Portal www.revisionistas.com.ar
Ramírez Juárez, Evaristo – La estupenda conquista – Buenos Aires (1946)
Turone, Oscar Alfredo – Las banderas de Obligado