BIM 5: The War of Second Corporal Agüero (1/2)

The Fight of Second Corporal Agüero – Part 1

Account taken from Revista Desembarco

Second Corporal Juan Carlos Agüero took part in the Malvinas War as a member of OBRA Company of the 5th Marine Infantry Battalion (BIM 5).

Second Corporal Agüero says: in 1982 I was posted to the 5th Marine Infantry Battalion. I was the leader of the 3rd Riflemen Group of OBRA Company. Our commander was Commander Carlos Robacio.

OBRA Company was, in reality, a reinforced rifle section: we were about 88 men—small for a company and large for a section. Our Company Commander was Sub-Lieutenant Ricardo Luis Quiroga, and the company senior NCO was Second Petty Officer Roberto Tejerina. The company’s organisation was three rifle groups, a 60 mm mortar and machine-gun group (two guns), a rocket-launcher detachment, the PELCA (command platoon formed by the commander and some 3 or 4 conscripts) and, when we arrived in the Malvinas, Second Corporal (medic) Angelossi joined us.

Once we arrived in the Malvinas and positions were assigned to BIM 5, we occupied a position between Mount Longdon and Wireless Ridge. Because of its size, our company had always been used in training as a reserve unit or as a forward observation unit, and in the Malvinas that was our mission: we were the battalion reserve. But with the arrival of Army regiments, we were ordered to move to another sector, near the positions of a company from RI-3. At that time we were still the reserve of BIM 5, but on 5 June, after repeatedly asking higher command to protect the avenue of approach—the only road linking Fitz Roy with the settlement—Captain Robacio decided to move his OBRA Company to Pony Pass, a forward sector. There the company would establish a blocking position.

Second Corporal Agüero recalls:

“My rifle group’s position was laid out on ground sloping down from W to E, but cut by a dried-up pond and a small natural rocky embankment, which allowed us to conceal ourselves if we had to fall back to the East. The northern end was marked by a distinctive rock beside the road leading to Fitz Roy. We had a frontage of 70 metres and were 150 m from the Company Command Post. The positions were about 150–200 m from a livestock fence and the anti-personnel minefield. That distance was chosen to achieve the effectiveness of our own fires on the interdiction line.

About 50 m to the rear and in the centre of the Group there was a rest and storage area (rations, sleeping bags, etc.) called the ‘Bunker’. This place did not protect against fire—only shelter for resting under cover. The terrain offered fields of fire and observation sectors for all weapons, being more open and flatter towards the Group’s left flank. The Group was reinforced, almost at the end, with a machine gun and a 3.5-inch rocket-launcher detachment.

At night the positions were manned two men at a time, and the rocket-launcher detachment was tasked to cover a post beside the road. All positions were double and had roofs made of corrugated sheet, timber, or tarpaulins with stops. They protected us from wind and rain; protection against fire was limited.

The road to Fitz Roy forked about 2,000 m to our front; we could clearly observe the branch that ran along the slope of Mount Harriet, while the other was partly masked by the undulations of the ground.

We had a light intensifier for the FM, and a Litton helmet-mounted night sight with the MAG. Only I had PAF and PD EF grenades. Each soldier carried 7.62 mm ammunition according to the weapon he carried:

FAL: 500 rounds; FAP: 1,000 rounds; MAG: 4 to 6 boxes plus a reserve of 2,000 rounds; 3.5-inch rocket-launcher.

‘C’ rations for about three days, plus supplementary mess improvements.

During the period up to 11 June the Company received sporadic naval gunfire, without causing casualties or affecting us. It was evident that this fire was not directed at the position; it was attributed to dispersion or the ships’ corrections. Harrier aircraft also flew over the area on photographic or strike missions, though the latter were always carried out against the Main Battle Area.

During the night of 11 June and the early hours of 12 June we saw the fighting for Mount Harriet, but there was little we could do. The British were more than 2,000 m from us; only a fraction that attempted an attack from the mountain’s rear came within our range, at a distance of about 800 to 1,000 m. From my position, using the night sight, we could see them clearly; some wore fluorescent markings on the back of their helmets. As they climbed, we fired at them from behind with the machine gun brought by Master Corporal Álvarez, together with conscripts Rava and Patrone. At that range our fire was not very effective; we fired one belt and suddenly began receiving fire from 6 or 7 machine guns, so we had to take cover. The master corporal received the order to return, but the machine gun remained with us on the front line.

Sub-Lieutenant Quiroga ordered the 60 mm mortars forward to hit the British; the mortar rounds fell on the enemy, but we had no way of verifying their effectiveness. At the same time, Sub-Lieutenant Quiroga adjusted the field artillery fire onto Harriet.

Apparently, by around 00:00 the enemy controlled part of the mountain, but RI-4 was still fighting; we could see and hear the explosions. Around 01:30 the British pushed upwards again. While this was happening, the company commander, Sub-Lieutenant Quiroga, reported to the BIM 5 command post. Captain Robacio informed the sub-lieutenant—and the sub-lieutenant informed us—that we were to prepare, because we might be used in a counter-attack if higher command authorised it; the authorisation never came.

At about 03:00 we managed to recover two conscripts from RI-4’s service section (soldiers Ibañes and Vallejos). They were given dry clothing, combat rations and ammunition and were incorporated into the company. They remained with us until the end of the fighting. At dawn on 12 June, Mount Harriet was in British hands.”

Repulse of the Enemy — 13 June

During the night of 12/13 June the enemy continued moving troops and helicopters in the Mount Harriet area, but our company had no significant developments. Twilight began at 08:16. At 22:34 the moon rose, on its first day of the last quarter. Artillery fire intensified over Tumbledown–William, Sapper Hill… Morning broke, and 13 June passed without major developments. At 15:30, at about 900 m, we saw elements advancing in an extended line abreast in front of the Company, with an estimated strength of 2 or 3 sections, wearing black berets (Welsh). The company’s support weapons were in a position to open fire, but the Company Commander ordered us not to, in order not to give away the position. He decided to engage them with our own artillery and made the corresponding requests. He reported to the BIM 5 command, which in turn reported to the Army grouping command (AGRUP. EA), which ordered the area to be shelled with all available artillery (B/BIAC taking part, Battery B of the Marine Infantry field artillery battalion). The fire was highly effective and the enemy withdrew in disorder; bodies could be seen being blown into the air. They then pulled back westwards towards helicopters that were waiting for them. Once the mission by our artillery ended, two enemy helicopters collected the wounded, observed from “OBRA” and from the BIM 5 observation post at Tumbledown; we allowed this medical evacuation to be completed without fire. In Sub-Lieutenant Quiroga’s words: “Not the wounded.” These actions were seen by the entire Company.

On this, Second Corporal Agüero, leader of the 3rd Group, says:

“On 13 June, at about 12:00, we saw enemy troops moving on foot over Mount Harriet, coming from the north-west. We judged them to be about the size of a company. They emplaced 81 mm mortars on the mountain; their hand-carriage could be made out, and we observed about four weapons. Then some of the personnel came down from the mountain towards the crossroads. They set up about five 7.62 mm machine guns on the road fork (prominent rocks in the terrain). Enemy helicopters unloaded crates—probably ammunition. Later, between Mount Harriet and the crossroads, a helicopter lift of personnel began, with an estimated strength of less than a company. The helicopters were Sea King and Wasp types, all dark-coloured. The movement lasted about an hour. I discussed these events with the group and we prepared for combat. There was noticeable nervousness and tension among the men. We had it in our heads that we had come for something—and that something was going to happen.

At about 15:00 the enemy advanced in an extended line; our artillery fired, but the first rounds fell long, on the far side of Harriet, and we could not see the subsequent impacts—only the smoke rising into the sky. Then I saw clearly, halfway up the visible face of Harriet, an artillery impact. They were falling in the enemy’s general area, but far from him. Three more impacts were corrected and only then did we get onto the target. Then effective fire was delivered: I saw an explosion that threw three or four bodies into the air. Wounded could be seen; they scattered seeking cover, shouting, and we could hear them clearly. There were more explosions and more wounded; bodies flew and were scattered. After about 15 or 20 minutes, Sea King-type helicopters were seen evacuating the wounded; their number could not be determined because the aircraft were positioned facing our lines and masked them.

After that nothing else happened until, before dark, I observed along the road from the West a force of English troops in tight column, assessed as a company. Before reaching the crossroads they deployed into an extended line to the south of the road and halted in the ground they had reached. The English marched calmly, apparently because our positions were well camouflaged and they did not know we were there. I reported the situation by radio to Sub-Lieutenant Quiroga, left my position and checked the Group’s readiness for combat, reiterating that we would be attacked that night.

At that time Sub-Lieutenant Quiroga had a fractured ankle, the result of some artillery rounds falling short and, while running to cover to make the correction, he broke his ankle. He was later evacuated and replaced by Lieutenant Commander Carlos Alberto Calmels, who had been our Company Commander the previous year. Lieutenant Commander Calmels arrived about 20 minutes before the attack on our positions began.”

Assault on La Tablada: The Story of a Widow of the Nation

4: Liliana’s grief on the cover of GENTE. Ten days had passed since the attack on La Tablada, and it was still difficult to grasp what had happened.

The Widow of a Patriot Who Gave His Life for the Nation

 

1: Liliana’s memories: “We’d been married ten years. I don’t speak of Horacio as if he were perfect just because he passed away—I say it because that’s how I genuinely feel. We never had a problem. We had a solid marriage. That’s why, since he’s been gone, I’ve tried to continue with what we’d planned.”

La Tablada: The Widow of Lieutenant Colonel Horacio Fernández Cutiellos Speaks
Liliana Raffo, widow of the second-in-command of the regiment, remembers her husband, Horacio Fernández Cutiellos. He was the first soldier to fall under guerrilla fire on Monday, 23 January 1989.

On 21 January 1989, Liliana Raffo was celebrating her 34th birthday in Córdoba with her parents, siblings, and four children: Horacio Raúl (then aged 9), Inés María (7), María Victoria (4), and María del Rosario (2). From Buenos Aires, her husband, Horacio Fernández Cutiellos (37), rang to wish her well. Due to work commitments—he was then serving as deputy commander of Infantry Regiment No. 3 in La Tablada and would later be promoted to lieutenant colonel—he could not be part of the celebration. Sadly, he would also not be present at any future ones.

Fernández Cutiellos was the second-in-command of the 3rd Mechanised Infantry Regiment. According to the judicial investigation, he was struck by gunfire at 9:20 a.m. on Monday the 23rd while engaging the attackers from a column near the parade ground. He was the first of five soldiers to fall following the assault.

Today, Liliana Raffo welcomes GENTE magazine into her home in the city of Córdoba. Her 64th birthday is two days away, and as has happened for over three decades, her emotions are mixed. On one hand, she recalls the last time she spoke to Horacio—the last time she heard his voice. On the other, the memory of the attack on the barracks, on 23 and 24 January 1989, which took her husband’s life, comes flooding back.

"It never crossed my mind that something like this could happen. We were living under a democratic government—Alfonsín’s," she reflects. She pauses, sighs, and adds: "But well… life goes on. It’s become routine now to have unpleasant Christmases, unpleasant birthdays, or simply none at all—because every year on the anniversary I travel to Buenos Aires. This year I’m going to Pigüé, the new base of the regiment, where on Wednesday the 23rd there’ll be an official ceremony. The first in thirty years."

Liliana still refers to her four children as “the kids”, though the eldest is nearing 40. “I got through it thanks to them. When I felt like crying, I’d go to my mum’s or a friend’s. At home, I tried to stay strong for them. I spoiled them too, I admit… Instead of raising them with strict rules or asking for help around the house, I’d say: ‘Go play.’ Just to keep their minds off things,” she recalls of the years following her husband’s death.

3: “I try not to show it, but I feel a lot of anger. Sometimes I think my husband died in vain. My children lost so much. They had to learn to live without their father from a very young age.”

"Horacio is here, there, and there." From the armchair, Liliana points to various framed photos of her husband placed around the living room. What she regrets most, she says, is not having a recording of his voice. "It’s the first thing you lose. I don’t remember it anymore. I always say, ‘Why didn’t I record him?!’ I don’t even have a video—can you believe that? It was a different time," she consoles herself.

Liliana’s memories: “We’d been married ten years. I don’t speak of Horacio as if he were perfect just because he passed away—I say it because that’s how I genuinely feel. We never had a problem. We had a solid marriage. That’s why, since he’s been gone, I’ve tried to continue with what we’d planned.”


2: In her home in the city of Córdoba, Liliana Raffo keeps the memory of her husband, Lieutenant Colonel Horacio Fernández Cutiellos, alive.

A few days after the barracks were recovered, a handwritten letter by Horacio was found. “It was in his office, on his desk. It looks like he was writing it to the kids. I’ll let you read it, but please don’t publish it—my children would kill me,” she asks the journalist.

In black ink and cursive handwriting on a plain sheet of now yellowed paper, Horacio wrote to his “dear children” a sort of life manifesto speaking of love for others, respect for the environment, nature, and animals. Coincidence or not, one of his daughters—Inés María, now 37—is a qualified vet. “That was Horacio,” says Liliana as she wraps the letter in plastic. “I try not to show it, but I feel a lot of anger. Sometimes I think my husband died in vain. My children lost so much. They had to learn to live without their father from a very young age.”

“I try not to show it, but I feel a lot of anger. Sometimes I think my husband died in vain. My children lost so much.
They had to learn to live without their father from a very young age.”

– Did you tell them the truth straight away or wait until they were older?
– I told them straight away. I never lied. I remember that a few days after the assault, my eldest, Horacio Raúl, would sneak off to the newsagent to look for reports about his father. Later, on a flight to Buenos Aires, I had María Victoria—the four-year-old—on my lap. There was a terrible storm outside, and suddenly I saw her waving. I asked her: “What are you doing, my love?” She replied: “I’m saying goodbye to Daddy.” I nearly died.

– Do your children have memories of him?
– At one point, the youngest would say to me: “Why didn’t he stay with us? Why did he have to go and die?” And she’s right. With the four-year-old, every time I gave her a bath, I’d say: “Do you remember how Daddy used to dry you?” and I’d pat her with the towel like he did. She remembers that, but most of what they know is from what I’ve told them. Since he died, I’ve tried to carry on with what we had planned. Our top priority was always the children and their education. Today they’re all professionals. I believe—just like me—he would be proud of them.

23 January 1989
"I’m going to die defending the barracks—recover it, all of you."
— Major Horacio Fernández Cutiellos, Deputy Commander of the 3rd Mechanised Infantry Regiment of the Argentine Army, during the defence of the La Tablada Army Garrison.

Conscript Falcón, A Leader at Mount Longdon

Miguel Ángel Falcón – A Leader at Mount Longdon

He was born on 6 October 1962 in Barranqueras, Chaco Province. His family recalls that Miguel was always a rebellious child. He didn’t follow rules—neither at home nor at school. In fact, he was known for skipping school at least one day every week. He served in the 7th Infantry Regiment “Colonel Conde”. He was killed in action during the battle of Mount Longdon, and among his belongings a deck of Spanish playing cards was found.

That youthful rebelliousness would lead him to star in a memorable story on the night of his final battle. The event was recounted in a letter by a fellow veteran:

"On the night of 12 June, when the British attacked us—in a true hell, with hundreds of shells and tracer rounds lighting up the sky—I saw the first section of our company getting ready to support Company 'B'. Among them were Lieutenant Castañeda, a corporal, and 44 conscripts like myself. I saw them preparing in the dark, all in single file, silent, trembling. Suddenly, from the line, a very skinny soldier jumped out—a humble lad who barely spoke because he was shy. It was Private Falcón.

He started rallying the men, clapping his hands, doing squats, with his FAL rifle slung over his back, shouting: ‘Come on, dammit! Bloody Brits, we’re going to smash you! We are the 7th, the 7th Regiment, let’s go, dammit!’

Out of nowhere, a leader emerged—someone who, in the most extreme circumstances, lifted the spirits of the rest."

This section’s actions were later recorded in British books as among the most heroic feats of the land battles in the Falklands. Out of the 46 men who went forward, 25 returned. Falcón was among those who stayed behind.




The Passage to Eternity – Conscript Soldier Miguel Ángel Falcón

As recounted by then-Lieutenant Castañeda:

We were ordered to launch a counterattack, flanked by an infantry section and an engineering unit that had already attempted to advance and had only made it halfway up the ridge due to the intense British fire. It was the night of 11 to 12 June.

We were guided by a message-runner, a conscript serving Major Carrizo. This soldier knew a sheep trail across Mount Longdon, as he crossed it daily carrying messages and knew all its nooks and crannies.

Once in position, we faced an enemy that seemed to grow in number as the hours passed. Without hesitation, I sent the runner back and we launched the assault, regaining a large portion of the lost ground.

Castañeda’s men tried to match the British rate of fire to prevent them from gaining confidence. At the same time, they shouted and hurled insults. The British responded in kind. Some conscripts used ammunition and weapons taken from dead or retreating enemy soldiers, driven back by the momentum of the Argentine attack.

Returning to Lieutenant Castañeda’s account:

A few metres from me, Private Miguel Ángel Falcón’s rifle was spitting fire nonstop, showing the same drive he had when we first moved out. Suddenly, something extraordinary happened. Falcón became enraged. He left his position, stood defiantly in front of the British, and kept firing from the hip while screaming insults at them.

The noise was deafening—gunfire, grenades, rockets, artillery. The air was unbreathable. The explosions shook our bodies. I shouted at him, 'Don’t be a fool, get down!' But perhaps he didn’t hear me—or didn’t want to.

He fired everything he had, threw grenades. Eventually, a machine-gun burst hit him. Falcón dropped to his knees, and as he fell forward, the barrel of his rifle drove into the ground, his chest resting on the buttstock. He looked as if he were kneeling in prayer.

Braving enemy fire, Private Gustavo Luzardo ran to him, laid him gently on the ground, looked at me, and with a gesture made it clear that Falcón was gone."

Why did he act that way? “Only he knows,” said Lieutenant Castañeda. “I believe he no longer cared—he was doing what he truly felt. God had called him, and he went happily, knowing he had fulfilled his duty.”

The Battle of Mount Longdon lasted over twelve hours, despite the vast imbalance in forces. That night, Argentine soldiers endured more than 6,000 rounds of gunfire, mortar shells, grenades, and artillery barrages. It was a brutal fight that displayed the extraordinary courage of our combatants.

Private Falcón was posthumously awarded the Medal of the Argentine Nation for the Fallen in Combat, and was officially declared a National Hero of the 7th Infantry Regiment.

 

Lamadrid, the Bravest of the Brave

The Bravest of the Brave

Domingo Faustino Sarmiento once said of him:

“General Lamadrid is one of those natural-born figures of the Argentine land. At the age of 14, he began waging war against the Spaniards, and the feats of his romantic bravery go beyond the limits of possibility: he has been in a hundred and forty encounters, in all of which Lamadrid’s sword emerged nicked and dripping with blood; the smoke of gunpowder and the neighing of horses drive him into ecstasy, and as long as he can slash everything before him—cavalry, cannons, infantry—it matters little to him whether the battle is won or lost.

I said he is a natural type of this country, not for his fabulous courage alone, but because he is both a cavalry officer and a poet. He is a kind of Tyrtaeus, inspiring soldiers with war songs—the same bard I mentioned in the first part; he is the gaucho spirit, civilized and devoted to freedom. Sadly, he is not a 'square' general, as Napoleon required; bravery outweighs his other qualities by a hundred to one.”

They say he was an inveterate candy eater.
He was terrified of water and did everything possible to avoid boarding boats and ships.
He would sing vidalitas to his soldiers before battles.

When San Martín took command of the Army of the North in early 1814, replacing Manuel Belgrano—recently defeated at Vilcapugio and Ayohuma—the Dragoon Captain from Tucumán, Gregorio Aráoz de Lamadrid, served as aide-de-camp to the future Condor of the Andes.

He was present in Tucumán and Salta. Also at Vilcapugio and Ayohuma.
And when he became entangled in the fratricidal civil wars between Unitarians and Federalists, fate took him to a place called El Tala.
There, fortune turned against him.
It was 1827. And he was nearly killed in that battle.

He received eleven saber blows to the head; his nose was broken and the tip dangled over his upper lip. His right ear, nearly sliced in two, hung by a thread of skin. Another slash severed the biceps of his left arm, and a bayonet struck deep into his shoulder blade.

When he fell to the ground, still gripping his saber, they clubbed him with rifle butts, trampled him with their horses, and broke his ribs. As they stripped him of his weapons and clothing, Lamadrid summoned his last strength and shouted, as best he could, that he would not surrender.
His body bathed in blood, they finished him off with a shot to the back.
They left, believing he was dead.

But he survived—against all odds.
And earned the nickname: “The Immortal.”

General Gregorio Aráoz de Lamadrid was born on November 28, 1795, in Tucumán.

A daguerreotype of the General reveals the true face of the warrior.
And a photograph of the bullet that was removed from his back—the one that shattered his shoulder blade—is on display at the National Historical Museum.

 

Mount Longdon: The Letter of Private Albert Petrucelli

The Letter of Private Alberto Petrucelli (7th Mechanised Infantry Regiment)

Malvinas 1982

This is the story of a letter that was never sent to its addressee, written by the Argentine soldier Alberto Daniel Petrucelli before he was killed in action during the Battle of Mount Longdon, in the Malvinas, in 1982.




Although this letter did not come directly into my hands, I learned about it thanks to the kindness of Malvinas veteran Fernando Arabio. We got chatting after I posted on social media about the circumstances in which Sergeant Ian McKay, a British soldier of the 3rd Battalion of The Parachute Regiment, was killed while assaulting Argentine positions on Mount Longdon on the night of 11–12 June 1982. The Argentine soldier Alberto Daniel Petrucelli had been born on 18 October 1962 in the Federal Capital, and in the Malvinas he formed part of the First Rifle Group, Second Section, B “Maipú” Company, 7th Mechanised Infantry Regiment “Coronel Conde”.

The letter is addressed to Nancy, Alberto Petrucelli’s girlfriend, and is dated 29 May 1982. It is possible that he wrote it at a moment when he was left on his own because Corporal Gustavo Pedemonte, the group commander, and soldiers Enrique Ronconi (A Team Leader) and Felipe Ramírez (B Team Leader) had gone out on patrol to carry out a forward observation on the Murrell River. It is written on a sheet of Government Telegraph Service, Falkland Islands, stationery which Corporal Pedemonte himself had given him. Pedemonte in turn had received it from another soldier who had managed to get hold of some of the stationery that was seized in the house of the British governor Rex Hunt after Operation Rosario.



In the letter “from a hero to his official girlfriend” (as he himself headed it), Private Petrucelli conveys his deep love for his girlfriend and other feelings he was harbouring, from a strong faith in God and in the Virgin who protected him, to uncertainty about how events would unfold, which had remained unchanged since 1 May. Not least is his mention of that very day on which he was writing, when he was delighted to see snow start to fall and then disappointed shortly afterwards because the snow turned into British shells. The paragraph begins by telling her that he was well and that he would stay “escondidito” (“nicely hidden”), just as she had asked him to do in previous letters. However, in another passage of the letter Petrucelli wrote that he felt like crying but did not, because he “made himself strong and felt like a man”.



During the assault on the Argentine positions, carried out by the 3rd Battalion of The Parachute Regiment, Privates Alberto Petrucelli and Enrique Ronconi together with Corporal Gustavo Pedemonte brought down Sergeant Ian McKay, who fell on the edge of the foxhole they occupied. An hour later Private Julio Maidana joined the position and began refilling the magazines with two or three rounds at a time so that they could keep firing without delay. The three soldiers died heroically when a grenade managed to get into the foxhole and its explosion killed them. Corporal Pedemonte, who was at one end of the hole and shielded by the bodies of the soldiers, was hit by shrapnel in a leg and a buttock but survived. Afterwards, when the British soldiers who had approached the position moved away, he was able to climb out of the foxhole to seek help desperately for his men.

Private Gareth Rudd, belonging to the machine-gun team of 3rd Section, 2nd Platoon, A Company, 3rd Battalion The Parachute Regiment, told his comrade David J. Reeves that after the assault on Mount Longdon the British held firm in their defensive positions to protect themselves from the Argentine field artillery fire that was pounding them. Later, he went out with another soldier to patrol the northern side of Mount Longdon and they discovered the bodies of Sergeant Ian McKay and of the soldiers who had died with him while assaulting an Argentine position that had been very well constructed. They searched the position and found the bodies of three Argentine soldiers, pulled them out of the foxhole and laid them alongside the fallen British. The Argentine soldiers were better equipped with clothing and boots for the climate of the Malvinas, and as it was bitterly cold, Gareth Rudd took the duvet from one of the dead soldiers in an attempt to keep himself warmer. He then informed a non-commissioned officer about the bodies they had found and went back to his own shelter, as the Argentine artillery fire had started up again.



Gareth Rudd was part of the group of British soldiers who wrapped that whole group of dead British and Argentine soldiers in ponchos. It was not until he reached Puerto Argentino and settled with other soldiers in one of the houses that, when checking the pockets of the duvet, he discovered the letter from Alberto Petrucelli to his girlfriend Nancy. The letter ended up being kept in a wardrobe where he also had photographs, newspaper cuttings, maps and his own correspondence with his family.

More than forty years later, Mr David J. Reeves got in touch with Fernando Arabio and sent him the letter and the note in which his comrade Gareth Rudd told him how he had found it. Fernando managed to contact Mrs Nancy, who now lives in Chile with her family. At first, Mrs Nancy agreed to receive the letter, but in the end she decided not to, perhaps because of the memories it would stir up. Fernando then contacted Gustavo Pedemonte and the letter was donated to be placed on public display in the Museum of the 7th Mechanised Infantry Regiment.

Malvinas: NCO in Combat

In Front of my Group of Twelve Soldiers

Malvinas: Historias de Coraje

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


 


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

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



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

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

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

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



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



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

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

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

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

Logistic Battallion 3: Quartermaster Corps also Fought

The Quartermaster Corps in the Malvinas also Fought

Malvinas 1982

Account by Corporal First Class Víctor Schwindt, who lived his whole life in Pilar, Buenos Aires Province. He tells us: “My father greatly influenced my decision to enter the academy. He had served in the Marine Corps, and I had an adventurous spirit like any 15- or 16-year-old. I found that adventure in the Armed Forces. The year 1981 was very demanding, both in the classrooms where I studied the quartermaster speciality and in combat training. We underwent intense physical and mental training, during which we gained knowledge and adapted to military doctrine, ‘to live by the chain of command’. It was all very unexpected. On 2 April we were at the shooting range in Campo de Mayo. That’s where we learned that we had recovered our islands. I felt immense joy. Although at that time there was not much information about the Malvinas circulating in the media, from that deed onwards the existence of, and sense of belonging to, that territory took root across Argentine society. We were just starting the second year of the course and we did not expect to graduate so abruptly.”

In general terms they had an early graduation, something that has not happened again since. After graduating and receiving their corporal insignia, they swore loyalty and respect to the national flag dressed in combat uniform—something that would ordinarily be done in dress uniform, with a military parade and family present. Once they graduated, they joined the institution and immediately received their unit postings, already as junior non-commissioned officers.

Regarding his own experience, Corporal First Class Schwindt told us: “I went with a group of 12 quartermaster mates to Curuzú Cuatiá, to Logistic Battalion 3. When we arrived in the Malvinas we spent a couple of nights at Puerto Argentino airport and were then moved to some depots in a remote area. After a few days I was separated and assigned to the guard of General Daher until 26 May. From there I moved to the front line with my comrades Albarracín, Mansilla and Labalta, who were already there. The three of us joined a section that had been formed to reinforce the 4th Infantry Regiment. We were quartermaster men—drivers, signallers—the only one from the infantry arm was Sergeant Montellano. Our assigned sector was on Mount Harriet. We stayed there until the final British attack, when we were taken prisoner. I remember the constant siege and harassment from frigates, aircraft and British artillery. Their aim was to weaken us morally and physically. On the front line we were going full tilt all the time. We were tired, physically affected by the cold and rain, but mentally prepared to face all those situations. The position was held at all times, even though we were at a major disadvantage, because the situation was completely dominated by the British.

“I was one of the last to reach the front line. When troop movements ceased, positions across the mountain were occupied and I found a position about 30 metres away from my group on the mountainside. When they began to attack and due to the way they infiltrated, my position ended up forward and very separated from my section mates. I was caught in the middle of the crossfire between my comrades and the British as they advanced. Given where I was, I had two options: get out and try to climb in the middle of that chaos, or stay put and fight from there. I looked back and thought that retreating in those circumstances was riskier than holding where I was, so I fought from there. When I ran out of ammunition, that was when I felt most afraid, because I was defenceless and could not leave my position with the enemy so close. I decided to squeeze in between two rocks where I had set up a shelter and stay there in the dark, trying to survive.

“When I decided to leave, I fell back towards Puerto Argentino. I crawled for a stretch, in the dark and unarmed, trying to find something to defend myself with, when suddenly two British soldiers appeared. They were surprised; they saw I was unarmed, pointed their weapons at me and asked if I spoke their language. I was so taken aback that I froze, so I raised my arms and surrendered. I was unarmed, there was nothing I could do, and they took me prisoner. After a while I saw a column with other prisoners, among whom were my friends. Oscar Labalta was not there because he had died on the morning of 10 June from artillery fire—he was 17 years old. But I met up with Alejandro Albarracín and Carlos Mansilla. I joined the group of prisoners and they took us to Fitz Roy, where we were searched and interrogated. The questioning was very demanding on their part, but I never experienced or saw physical violence. We fought with great ethics and honour, and they recognised that. They were surprised by our attitude—our defence of our territory, all the values instilled in our training, our love for the Fatherland. From there we were moved to a cold-store in San Carlos and then embarked on the Canberra (the ocean liner) to Puerto Madryn.

“Corporal First Class Schwindt told us something heartening about the return. ‘The welcome and affection of the people of Puerto Madryn were extraordinary. It was the feeling of being back home; people hugged us—they truly showed us great warmth. That was when I began to realise that the war was over. Afterwards, they took us back to Curuzú Cuatiá by train.’”

Words of Jeremy Moore on the Argentine Soldiers

 

Words from a British General – Jeremy Moore confessed:

"I was afraid the war might continue.
I do not hate the Argentinians, and I never would. I felt ashamed when Parliament mocked them — that was no way to approach a war..."

He also answered the big question posed by the Clarín journalist: Could the Argentinians have won the war?
“Yes, they were only days away from winning. They forced us to operate at night… and in the night, confusion and chaos reign. We were prepared to dominate that chaos.”

"The Argentine soldiers fought bravely, defending the ground inch by inch. Every metre of the islands cost us the sacrifice and blood of our men."

“We had been instructed from London to use the term unconditional surrender, but logic told me that unconditional held only a psychological meaning,” he recalled. “I was very aware that the Argentinians are a proud people and that military honour is deeply important to them, so I feared that term might cause them to refuse to sign the document,” he noted.

“So, on my way to Puerto Argentino to meet Menéndez, I contacted my staff and told them that if the Argentine general objected to the term, I would remove it. And I immediately ended the communication.”

General Moore said he felt shame and awkwardness upon seeing General Menéndez clean and neatly dressed, while he himself had just arrived from the front lines — still in combat gear, mud-covered and with soiled trousers, as he had fallen into his own excrement during the bombardments.

He died at the age of 79, as announced by The Times, a local newspaper from his hometown.
When current politicians were asked why no honours were paid to him, the response was:
“He was a general no longer in active service.”

Malvinas: Sergeant First Class Héctor Ricardo Montellano, A Hero

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

As recounted by then Second Lieutenant Jiménez Corbalán

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Malvinas: The Odyssey of the 4th Section (Part 5)

 

The Odyssey of the 4th Section (Part 5)

This account tells the story of the creation and struggle of the legendary 4th Section of Company Nácar of BIM 5.

—“Sir, this is Lieutenant Vázquez,” he said with anguish. Captain Robacio replied:
—“Lieutenant, we’ve been trying to contact you. The weight of the battle is centred on your Section. What do you need to finish them off?”
—“Sir! Fire the howitzers on us!”

The request meant being shelled by their own artillery — no less than 105 mm guns, the largest available, capable of destroying foxholes. Either way, they would not come out alive. Robacio moved the receiver from his ear and hesitated for a moment.
—“But Vázquez…”
—“Sir, please, fire right now. This is unsustainable.”
—“Very well, I’ll do it. Stay on the line.”

Turning to his aide, Robacio ordered:
—“Open fire with the 105s on Lieutenant Vázquez’s positions immediately. Quickly.”

The first shot landed 500 metres off target. The island’s soft soil and the strain placed on the artillery had knocked the guns out of calibration.
—“Sir, correction: add 900, right 500,” cried Vázquez. Normally, such an adjustment would be impossible. Robacio whispered, covering the handset:
—“This poor lad must be losing it…”

But Vázquez was not mad. The shot really had fallen far. As the second round delayed, he shouted desperately:
—“What are you waiting for? Fire! Fire! They’re tearing us apart!”

The second round was again long, far from target.
—“Bloody useless gunners! Stick the guns up your arses!” Vázquez was screaming at none other than his commander. Death for him and his men seemed certain.

At last the third shell hit the Section.
—“Good! That’s it! That’s it!” he cried over the radio.
—“Alright, son. Try to hold on,” replied Robacio, aware of the ordeal his men were enduring.

From then on, the 105 mm shells battered the position. Robacio contacted Puerto Argentino, requesting reinforcements. He could not withdraw men from his other companies without opening a corridor the British would exploit — something he knew all too well. But headquarters delayed. Frustrated, he snapped:
—“Drag out all the rats hiding there and send them forward. Tonight the moor will finish the British!”

Back at the 4th Section, the shelling slowed but did not halt the attack. At 05:00, Vázquez again demanded reinforcements. A counterattack from RI-6 failed to reach him. He relied instead on 81 mm mortar fire from NCO Cuñé, whose repeated strikes hampered the British advance despite being targeted by a frigate and enemy 120 mm mortars. Cuñé and his conscripts used timing and precision to fire in sync with naval bombardments, masking their positions.

By 05:30, Vázquez had lost effective control. Each foxhole fought alone. What was once the 4th Section — reinforced by RI-4 soldiers — was reduced to some twenty men, running out of ammunition. Their only options: hide and pray, or fix bayonets.

The British gradually overran the remaining foxholes, killing or capturing defenders. Notably, they took prisoners when possible, sparing lives under extreme circumstances.

By 07:00, still night-dark, only three foxholes resisted: Vázquez’s and one on each flank. Ammunition was gone. Some surrendered, some lay dead. Desperate, Vázquez radioed Robacio, crying:
—“Sir, where are the reinforcements? We have no more ammunition. My men do not fight, they do not answer my orders. I don’t know if they are alive or dead…”

It was the grim truth. He no longer knew if his soldiers refused to fight, lacked ammunition, or had already fallen.

Malvinas: Lions in Darwin

The Lions of the "Aliaga" Section

A pause in the attack

After opening fire on the advancing British section, the British troops paused their manoeuvre in an attempt to reorganise their failed advance through the depression. Clearly, the rounded hill held by Second Lieutenant Aliaga's section dominated the small valley, and remaining within range of weapons from that position was extremely dangerous.

However, not everything was in favour of the small Argentine force: several of its shooters had been poorly positioned for the land attack, as their foxholes had been designed to face a beach landing and did not allow them to fire at the British without exposing themselves. As a result, some had to lie prone on the slope to return fire, which was a highly risky move.

From the command post—a dugout located near the top of the rise—Aliaga assessed the situation and assumed they might be able to hold out until nightfall, provided the engagement continued as it had. Then they could withdraw under cover of darkness. Alternatively, if the situation worsened, they might attempt to retreat to the nearby settlement at any point during the day. Yet even in daylight, such a manoeuvre would be far from simple: it would take place under enemy fire and, if successful, might still result in being mistakenly fired upon by their own troops, as there was no communication system to warn of the movement.

At that moment, two or three Pucará aircraft flew northwards but did not release their weapons against the British forces engaging the Argentine position. The British, however, took full advantage of the opportunity and greeted the flyover with a barrage of automatic weapons fire.

A tense calm settled over the trenches. During that lull, Sergeant Maldonado crawled over to the machine-gun crew and urged them to keep doing exactly what they were doing—telling them: “Keep it up, you're tearing the gringos to pieces.” Without a doubt, the success of the defence would rest heavily on the firepower of the lone MAG machine gun.

Also in that trench was Private Ramón Monje, who, having used up the last of the 88.9mm rocket launcher ammunition on the hedge line, moved over to the other conscripts for support. However, he had no rifle and was unable to fight.

Two foxholes to the right of the MAG, another pair of soldiers waited for the battle to resume. Hugo Castro watched the small valley below, barely blinking, expecting to see the enemy infantry appear at any moment. But it was not from the front; instead, off to the right, they spotted a small unit—no more than 15 men—moving in single file about 800 metres away, descending southwards along the gentle slopes that, in the opposite direction, overlook Darwin Bay.

Unable to establish proper contact or determine whether the group were friend or foe—since their shouts of “¡Viva la Patria!” received no reply—the soldiers of Regiment 8 decided not to open fire. Shortly afterwards, the group disappeared into the next hollow in their path. (This was First Corporal Quintana's group from the Reconnaissance Section of Regiment 12, who, after fighting on Darwin Ridge, had managed to retreat to Goose Green.)

Under Fire Once More

Suddenly, the British resumed their assault on the hill, and from that point onward, the gunfire would continue almost uninterrupted until the battle’s end.

Second Lieutenant Aliaga, firing single shots with his rifle due to it not cycling correctly, was growing concerned—his right flank was the most exposed, and he feared the British might attempt to encircle them from that side.

At that moment, Private Guillermo Marini reached the dugout with urgent news:
– “Sir, Corporal Bossetti’s been hit!”

Corporal Bossetti, who had remained in his tent due to poor health, had been wounded in the arm. A bullet had entered near the top of one shoulder and exited through the forearm. The section now had its first casualty. (Corporal Bossetti had even coughed up blood and was in a severely weakened state due to malnutrition, yet he had refused to abandon his unit.)

Aliaga then instructed Marini to crawl over to one of the alternate positions on the right side, which had been designated for contingency use when the section was first deployed there. Armed with his FAL rifle, the conscript was to act as a lookout and raise the alarm if he saw any British troops advancing from that direction.

However, Marini had barely covered a few metres before he was struck twice in one leg and once in the abdomen, collapsing and unable to move.
– “Sir, Marini’s hit!” someone shouted, which Aliaga heard.

Without hesitation—and knowing that the young man was completely exposed—Aliaga crawled out to him and tried to cover the abdominal wound, which was bleeding heavily. Looking to his side, he saw two other soldiers, Naif Anis Hassanie and Luis Cepeda, had followed him. (These conscripts were risking their lives for their officer, who was barely older than themselves.)

The four of them were surrounded by dozens of impacts kicking up dirt all around. With immense effort, Aliaga managed to drag Marini back until they fell into the relative safety of the command post trench.

Malvinas: The Remains of the Day

 “Galtieri put the problem on the table”

Interview with Guillermo Suárez Mason

In its edition of 23 June 1982, the magazine Siete Días published an interview by journalist César M. Sorkin with General Guillermo Suárez Mason, then former Chief of the Army General Staff. On that occasion, General Suárez Mason gave his views on different aspects of the war, some passages of which are of particular interest, especially those concerning the circumstances that led to the final outcome:

“The battle, unpleasant as the results may have been, was fought through to the end. Our troops fought as best they could with what they had, and they were overcome. There was no one unwilling to face the alternative… We could talk about the very small fractions still left to General Menéndez, but they were so minimal that they don’t really count. Our troops were genuinely overpowered in the field, after an effort in which they used everything they had. It is quite simple to understand: if you have troops on the ground and they are crushed by fire, and when you still can’t move them much they land a helicopter-borne battalion behind your troops… well then, they’ve passed you, they’ve left you behind, completely cut off. That is much more practical than pushing through the same battlefield, through minefields, across barbed wire and under fire… They destroyed the most important objectives with fire and then went over the top. They are respectable. When I speak of the respect I have for them, I refer strictly and solely to their professionalism.”

On the morale of the Argentine forces he stated:

“It was very good, and this is confirmed in the final act signed between General Menéndez and General Moore, whose first point highlights the courage shown by our men.”

Towards the end of the interview, the dialogue was as follows:

“I refer exclusively to the actions of the Army. I do not speak about the Navy’s lack of action in the area, and that is because it would have been impossible for them to do anything; despite the pain their absence caused, I understand why they were not there. It would have been suicide. Just as I understand that General Menéndez halted the actions at a certain point… Collective suicide makes no sense, militarily speaking. When things are already lost, the human worth of command must weigh more than supposedly heroic attitudes, terrible in their finality of death. That is not the purpose of military operations. Military operations are carried out to subdue the enemy.”

Journalist: – Will the future course of action unfold politically or militarily?
Suárez Mason: – Politically. That is my impression. I am not recommending anything. I am speaking of the ceasefire.
Q: – Does the adverse outcome of this action prevent trying again in the future?
SM: – No, on the contrary. I believe that one merit of the operation, failed as it may be, is that it brought the problem to a level of priority that Britain had not previously accorded it. This is what history will one day acknowledge in Lieutenant General Galtieri; he put the problem on the table, in full view, despite all the setbacks. Things did not turn out well, but even so they have their value.

Source: excerpt from an interview by César M. Sorkin.
Documentary Chronicle of the Malvinas. Hugo Gambini.
“Redacción” Library.

Italian Legions in Argentina

The Italian Legions in the Argentine Republic

José Luis Alonso y Juan Manuel Peña.
Published in the Revista Superior de Guerra, Number 553, Apr-Jun 2004

The prolonged struggles faced by the Argentine nation during the 19th century gave rise to significant human actions that have largely faded into obscurity or are briefly mentioned in history books.

On February 5, 1856, 352 Italian soldiers under the command of Colonel Silvino Olivien arrived by sea at the present-day city of Bahía Blanca, in southern Buenos Aires Province. At the time, the city was a modest settlement surrounding the old Fort Argentino, facing the vast pampas and the constant threat of Indigenous attacks. The enthusiastic welcome from the sparse local population prompted Colonel Olivien to issue a printed proclamation, urging the people of Bahía Blanca to see the legionnaires as “brothers who wished to help them continue the great task of settling that rich and expansive southern region of Buenos Aires Province.”

Origins of the Italian Legion

Who were these foreigners? Where did they come from? And who was Silvino Olivien?

The prolonged siege of Montevideo (1843–1851) had attracted numerous Italians with liberal and Masonic ideals. These individuals—defeated in Italy’s Wars of Independence and the Roman Republic—were inspired by Alexandre Dumas’ book The New Troy, which portrayed Montevideo’s siege as another fight against tyranny for freedom. Many were Ligurian, Piedmontese, and Savoyard exiles who, under Giuseppe Garibaldi’s command, extended their struggle for liberty to the shores of the Río de la Plata, forming a Legion.

Their shared experiences, dangers faced, and shared ideals forged strong bonds between these European exiles and their Uruguayan and Argentine comrades. These ties were further solidified by the close friendship between Garibaldi and Bartolomé Mitre, then an Argentine military leader and later the President of Argentina. After the siege ended, many Italians moved to Buenos Aires, where Mitre became not only their best ally but also their “brother in cause and principles,” a title he gave to both Mazzinians (followers of Giuseppe Mazzini) and Garibaldinians.

Formation of the Italian Legion in Buenos Aires

On December 9, 1852, Buenos Aires faced a siege by forces loyal to General Hilario Lagos, who had rebelled against the state government. A decree authorized foreign residents to take up arms “exclusively to maintain public order.” Numerous volunteers formed the German, Spanish, and Swiss legions. Among these, the Italian Legion stood out not only for its size but also for its refusal to limit itself to police functions, insisting on active participation in the trenches defending the city.

The force was organized by two Italian officers: Colonel Silvino Olivien, born in Bruscios in 1820 and trained at the Naples Military Academy (La Nunziatella), and Major Eduardo Clerici, a Milanese graduate of the Milan Military Academy and former lieutenant in the Austrian Army. Both men had fought in Italy’s revolutionary struggles and were exiled following their defeats.

Together, they assembled approximately 300 Italian residents of Buenos Aires into a battalion named the Italian Legion. This force fought valiantly alongside the defenders of Buenos Aires, earning praise for their military skills. Their first casualty was Lieutenant Erba, who fell on January 9, 1853, and was honored with burial in the city’s cathedral.

Distinctions and Honors

The Italian Legion distinguished itself in battles at Plaza Lorea and the English Cemetery (near present-day Pasco and Pichincha streets). Their bravery earned them recognition from General Manuel Hornos, commander of the Argentine forces. On April 21, 1853, the Buenos Aires government presented the Legion with a blue-and-white flag featuring the city’s coat of arms embroidered in silver and gold. The flag bore a blue silk ribbon inscribed in gold: "Con questa bandiera vinceremo" - Buenos Aires, 16 aprile 1853. The flag, gifted by “porteñas” (women of Buenos Aires), remains preserved in the National Historical Museum.

Further recognition came on May 30, 1853, when a government decree officially renamed the force the Valiant Legion. Its members were granted the use of honor cords, a prestigious distinction for both officers and soldiers.

Disbandment and Legacy

In July 1853, following the conclusion of the conflict, the Italian Legion was disbanded at the request of Colonel Olivien, who returned the Legion’s flag to the government before departing for Italy. There, Olivien participated in new revolutionary activities, was captured, and sentenced to death. Buenos Aires authorities intervened successfully to secure his commutation, and he returned to Buenos Aires on October 31, 1855, exiled for life from the Papal States.

Colonization Plans and New Frontiers

Olivien’s forced return coincided with government plans to secure internal frontiers against Indigenous attacks in southern Buenos Aires Province. The plan involved creating militarized colonies, where settlers would be granted land in exchange for defending and developing present and future settlements. Thus, the legacy of the Italian Legion extended beyond their valor on the battlefield to contributions in shaping Argentina’s southern frontier.

Bahía Blanca, founded in 1828 and whose characteristics have already been pointed out, was the site chosen to test the project.

Italian Legionnaire

The Agricultural-Military Legion and the Founding of Nueva Roma

On November 18, 1855, a decree established an agricultural-military colony of 600 men under the jurisdiction of the Buenos Aires state army ordinances. Initially settled in Bahía Blanca, the colony could be relocated to other points in the southern frontier as needed. Colonel Silvino Olivien, due to his military background and engineering expertise, was appointed commander, with Major Clerici serving as his second-in-command. Among the recruits were 150 former members of the Italian Legion, alongside their previous officers.

One notable member was Juan Bautista Cúneo, a former soldier and journalist, who founded the first Italian-language newspaper in Argentina, named after the military force: La Legión Agrícola Militar. Thirteen issues of this publication were printed.

Uniform and Symbolism

The Agricultural-Military Legion adopted uniforms modeled after the French Zouaves from the Crimean War, featuring a kepi similar to those of the Buenos Aires army but in red, a nod to the Garibaldinian roots of its members. As a continuation of the Valiant Legion, the governor of Buenos Aires, Dr. Pastor Obligado, and the Minister of War and Navy, Bartolomé Mitre, ceremonially returned the Legion’s original flag to the new Italian formation on January 11, 1856.

Arrival and Organization

On February 5, 1856, the Legion arrived in Bahía Blanca with approximately 300 men. While not all had military experience, they were selected for their knowledge of agricultural practices. Captain Felipe Cavanti, who had been exiled from the Papal States, remained in Buenos Aires to organize the rest of the force.

Between February and July 1856, after enduring a yellow fever outbreak, the Legion began exploring the surrounding territory and divided itself into three branches:

1. Infantry: Comprising six companies.
2. Artillery: Commanded by Captain Juan Penna, a Milanese born in 1830 with extensive experience in the Italian Wars of 1848–1849. Penna would go on to have a distinguished military career in Argentina.
3. Cavalry: Led by Captain Mariano Barilan, a revolutionary from Rimini and former officer of the Royal Guard, who had also been exiled.

The Founding of Nueva Roma

On July 1, 1856, the Legion laid the foundations for the colony of Nueva Roma, located 25 kilometers west of Bahía Blanca along the Sauce Chico River. This colony was established to fulfill the dual objectives of the Agricultural-Military Legion: to populate and defend the region.

Notable Events

Two significant events marked the development of Nueva Roma. First, Major Clerici, who had established cordial relations with the influential Indigenous chief Calfucurá, was forced to step down due to illness and passed away in October 1856. His efforts in diplomacy with the local Indigenous communities left a lasting legacy.

The Agricultural-Military Legion exemplified a unique blend of military prowess and agricultural ambition, contributing to the expansion and defense of Argentina’s southern frontier.

The Years of the Agricultural-Military Legion

On September 28, 1856, Colonel Silvino Olivien was assassinated by mutinous members of his own force, angered by the severe punishments they were subjected to. The perpetrators deserted, and their crime remained unpunished. The arrival of Captain Felipe Caronti months later restored order and ensured the continuation of the Legion’s mission.

The government appointed Lieutenant Colonel Antonio Susini as the new commander of the Agricultural-Military Legion. Susini, a Milanese sailor and veteran who had sailed and fought alongside Giuseppe Garibaldi during campaigns on Argentine rivers, was one of the founders of the Italian Legion during the siege of Montevideo.

In 1853, Susini arrived in Bahía Blanca accompanied by Major Juan Bautista Charlone, a valiant officer who would later distinguish himself in the Paraguayan War, and Captains Sagani, Zonza, and Valerga, along with forty soldiers. All these men were veterans of the Italian and Valiant Legions.

Reorganization and Military Campaigns

Susini undertook a comprehensive reorganization of the force, renaming it the Military Legion. He discharged less capable members and restored the unit’s renowned reputation. Under Susini’s leadership, the Legion distinguished itself in campaigns against Indigenous forces, including actions at Salinas Grandes and the Battle of Pigüé in February 1859, where they faced Chief Calfucurá’s forces. General Wenceslao Paunero, commander of the Bahía Blanca Division, praised their valor.

In May 1859, the Legion defended Bahía Blanca against an attack by 2,500 Indigenous warriors, defeating them, recovering stolen goods, and freeing numerous captives. For his leadership, Susini was promoted to the rank of colonel by the Buenos Aires government in July 1859.

Contributions Beyond the Battlefield

The Legion’s impact extended beyond military accomplishments. Captain Felipe Caronti spearheaded significant development projects in the Bahía Blanca region, including the construction of the first port pier, two schools, and the first church. He also manufactured ammunition, repaired weapons, drafted topographic maps, and conducted meteorological studies. Caronti, unable to complete his engineering studies in Italy due to political exile, realized his aspirations in the country that adopted him.

Final Campaigns and Legacy

After four years of campaigns against southern Indigenous tribes, the Buenos Aires government ordered the Military Legion to return and participate in the conflict against General Urquiza’s army during a renewed civil war between Buenos Aires and the rest of the country.

The Legion fought valiantly at the Battle of Pavón, further cementing its legendary reputation. Colonel Juan Bautista Charlone, renowned for his courage and leadership, was promoted and awarded an honorary sword for his service.

Recognition from Garibaldi

The Military Legion’s exploits reached Giuseppe Garibaldi, who, from his home in Caprera, sent a letter to his former comrades on November 15, 1861. In it, he expressed his admiration and pride in their contributions to Argentina, ensuring that their heroic deeds remained part of both Argentine and Italian history. The enduring legacy of the Legion reflected the ideals of liberty and resilience shared by its members. It stated:

"Alía Legione Italiana de Buenos Aires Abete combattuto valerosamente per la libertá della Reppublicá Argentina, che é un popolo caro, honesto e generoso".

"Vi invio una parola de omaggio, cl 'affette di gratitudine, in nome della Italia intera e del vostro vecchio compagno d¨armi G. Garibaldi".

The Final Chapter of the Military Legion and Its Legacy

An emotional ceremony took place on February 4, 1864, in the city of Rosario, Santa Fe Province, where the Military Legion was stationed. During the event, the legionnaires received a new Argentine flag to replace their original one, which was nearly destroyed after so many campaigns and battles.

In early 1865, the Legion returned to Buenos Aires to complete its ranks with Argentine officers and troops. In April of that year, it was merged into the 8th Line Infantry Regiment, which then marched to the Paraguayan War, initiated on May 25, 1865. On that date, Paraguayan forces under Marshal Francisco Solano López, already at war with the Empire of Brazil, launched a surprise invasion of Argentine territory, triggering the War of the Triple Alliance. In this conflict, the armies of Brazil, Uruguay, and Argentina fought against Paraguay in what became the bloodiest war in South American history.

Massive numbers of men were sacrificed against Paraguayan fortresses, defended with extraordinary bravery amidst dense jungles. Both sides demonstrated courage bordering on madness. The Paraguayan government, desperate after prolonged battles, even formed battalions of children and women, continuing the struggle until the annihilation of the last 1,000 soldiers of Solano López’s army, with López himself perishing alongside them.

The Legion in the Paraguayan War

The men of the Military Legion proved their valor throughout the war, distinguishing themselves in all the battles they fought. They participated in the defense of the city of Corrientes and fought in the battles of Yatay, Uruguayana, and the infamous massacre at Curupaytí. In this brutal engagement, Colonel Juan Bautista Charlone fell while leading an infantry charge in a futile attempt to breach Paraguayan trenches, reminiscent of the trench warfare horrors that would shock the world during World War I.

After Charlone’s death, command of the Italian forces passed to Colonel Baldomero Sotelo, an Argentine officer. Under his leadership, the Legion fought at Lomas Valentinas and Paso Hondo, where on October 21, 1869, they captured an eight-cannon battery in a bayonet assault.

Following these actions, the Legion became part of the Occupation Army, stationed in Asunción, the Paraguayan capital, until January 1871. Throughout the War of the Triple Alliance, the Legion wore its distinctive uniform, though it became increasingly adapted to the campaign’s necessities and shortages. After the war, the remnants of the once-glorious Legion returned to Corrientes, where they were incorporated into the 1st Battalion of the 8th Infantry Regiment.

Other Italian Forces

The Military Legion was not the only Italian-origin force serving with the Argentine Army. Two additional Italian formations were established:

1st Volunteer Legion or Volunteers of Liberty

This unit was organized by Commander José Giribone, born in Genoa in 1823 and exiled for political reasons. Giribone arrived in Montevideo in 1843 and fought alongside Giuseppe Garibaldi and Francisco Anzani during the siege of the Uruguayan capital. Known for his musical talent and exemplary bravery, Giribone composed a military march, La Marcha del Tala, which he bequeathed to the Argentine Army as a legacy of his sacrifice and dedication, notably displayed in the Battle of El Tala.

A Lasting Legacy

The Military Legion, alongside other Italian volunteer forces, embodied the ideals of courage, sacrifice, and dedication. Their contributions to the Argentine military during some of the nation’s most challenging conflicts remain a testament to the enduring bond between Italy and Argentina, rooted in shared struggles for freedom and justice.

Cnel. Antonio Sussini

On August 10, 1861, he was appointed commander of a force to be organized under the name Volunteers of Liberty. This unit was tasked with protecting the city of Rosario, Argentina, but after only a few months, it was disbanded to form a new unit called the Foreign Legion. This new force included volunteers of various nationalities, though Italians remained the majority.

The Foreign Legion committed to serve under a three-year contract and was sent to reinforce the Third Line Infantry Regiment, which defended the town of Azul in southern Buenos Aires Province from Indigenous attacks. Its name was later changed to the First Volunteer Legion, and under this designation, it fought in the War of the Triple Alliance as part of the allied Army of Operations.

On February 17, 1868, Commander Gribone fell in battle, succumbing to 18 wounds, “all from the front,” as recorded in the military report of the time, during an engagement against superior forces. With his death, the second heroic Italian figure in this war was lost.

Second Volunteer Legion: The aforementioned Colonel Antonio Susini, who had reorganized the Agricultural-Military Legion, had previously delegated its command to Lieutenant Colonel Charlone when Susini was appointed Commander of the Buenos Aires State Government’s Naval Squadron in 1857. However, unable to remain detached from the ongoing conflict in Paraguay, Susini returned to active service on land. He organized another unit, named the Second Volunteer Legion, with which he marched as part of the Army of Operations, participating in the entire campaign.

Juan Bautista Charlone

From the very beginning, Antonio Susini was appointed to command a brigade that included his Legion and ultimately rose to the prestigious position of Commander of the 1st Corps of the Argentine Army.

At the conclusion of the war against Paraguay, remnants of the Italian forces participated in some actions during subsequent Argentine civil wars before being discharged after their extensive campaigns.

There would no longer be Italian Legions in the Argentine Army, but many of their members, both soldiers and officers, requested and were incorporated into the national army. They went on to hold high and important positions, contributing to the final struggles against Indigenous forces and the definitive organization of an army to which they had always belonged—by the right earned through their spilled blood.

Bibliography:

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* De Marco, Miguel Angel - La Guerra del Paraguay. Editorial Planeta, Buenos Aires, Argentina, 1995

* Granienigo, Gaio Italiano entre Rosas y Mitre. Ediciones. Sediliba, Buenos Aires, Argentina, 1987.

* Comando en Jefe del Ejército - Reseña histórica y orgánica del Ejército Argentino. Ediciones-Círculo Militar, Buenos Aires, Argentina, 1972.

* Best Félix - Historia de las Guerras Argentinas. Torno II. Editorial Peuser, Buenos Aires, Argentina 1960

* Caronti, C. Luis -. Legiones Italianas. Buenos Aires, Argentina, 1907.

* Ferracutti, Enrique - Las expediciones militares en los orígenes de Bahía Blanca. Ediciones Círculo Militar, Buenos Aires, Argentina 1962

* Walther, Juan Carlos, La conquista del Desierto Ediciones Círculo Militar, Buenos Aires, Argentina, 1964.