Biography: Captain Héctor Sánchez, the destroyer of Bahía Agradable

Captain Hector “Pipi” Sanchez (AAF)

By Hernan Longoni in Historia de Aviones

1) When did he graduate from the EAM (Military Aviation School)?
December 1975.

2) What reasons led him to join the Aviation School?
He had no idea that the EAM existed, nor what the Air Force was. When my desk mate in 5th year at the Urquiza National School in San Nicolás told me that he was going to join the EAM, I asked him to explain everything related to the Air Force. Since there was the possibility of becoming a military aviator, that fact led me to decide to register to join the Institution. I made this decision almost at the end of the year, so I had to make a great effort to prepare myself to take the exams, with the help of my friend, who had already been preparing for quite some time. Later, Orlando Pons and I would graduate as Ensigns, being classmates of Class XVI.

3) What did you feel when you graduated from it?
Primarily great emotion and relief for the effort that my parents had to make to finance my studies. From that moment on, I had a salary that allowed me to support myself by my own means, without being a burden on my family. Regarding the future, everything was uncertainty and big questions. Would I be able to meet the expectations that the organization placed on me? Would I be able to fulfill my dream/vocation of becoming a military pilot? Would I be able to fly combat aircraft after achieving the goal of overcoming the demands of basic training as an aviator? I was always very aware that, above all, one was a soldier first, and then came the next goal of becoming a Military Aviator. But what decision would I have made if I had not become a pilot, and above all, a fighter pilot?

4) What rank and age did you have when the Malvinas Conflict broke out?
In 1982, I was a 1st Lieutenant in the second year (it takes 4 years in the rank to be promoted to Captain), and I was 28 years old.

5) What position and role did you have?
When the recovery of the Islands occurred, I was undergoing the adaptation course to fly Mirage III aircraft at the VIII Air Brigade. I had not completed more than 5 flights in two-seater aircraft, so I was not qualified to intervene in the conflict with these aircraft. Thanks to Captain Varela, one of the Flight Leaders of the A4-B Squadrons, and at my request, I was called to join as an attaché to the II Air Squadron to fly in the Weapons System.

6) What were the most pressing needs during the conflict from the perspective of your position?
Having accurate information on the position of naval targets, ensuring that all aircraft had the OMEGA navigation system, having the appropriate weaponry to attack naval targets, obtaining proper intelligence information on the positions of British troops after the landing, having a landing strip in the Malvinas suitable for our aircraft, and being allowed to operate from Puerto Argentino despite the risks involved, etc.
It is important to note that the primary responsibility of the Air Force is to train and equip (including weaponry) for air and air-land battles. On the other hand, the primary responsibility of the Navy is to be prepared for air-naval battles, which is why they had weaponry suited to the conflict they faced. For the above reasons, all Air Force Squadrons during the conflict had to adapt to a battle that was not their primary responsibility. The most important thing to keep in mind is that they had never trained in tactics to attack naval targets (ships), nor did they have the appropriate weaponry to attack those targets. All knowledge had to be acquired during the conflict, based on the experiences learned from each mission that was carried out.

7) Who or what was your source of confidence during the conflict?
The training and preparation I had flying the A4s, our Flight Leaders (Tony Zelaya and Trucha Varela, two idols), my Squadron Leaders, those of us who formed a combat formation every time we flew a real mission, the camaraderie and companionship that developed within the group, the Argentine people who supported the conflict to recover our Islands, and, of course, everything was ultimately in the hands of God, for the fate of my life during my engagement with the British.

8) What did your loved ones say regarding the risk?
At that time, there were no cell phones, emails, or the means of communication we have today. Everything was done by telephone, and even that was limited to those who had a phone line installed in their homes. My mother always believed I was in Buenos Aires during the development of the conflict, thanks to the collaboration of the rest of the family who maintained my deception to avoid causing her distress (my father had passed away in 1976). My family was far away and had no military background, so for them, the concept of the risk associated with military activity was difficult to grasp.

9) What do you feel about the performance of your weapons system during the conflict?
I feel proud to have been able to participate in the conflict with such an incredible human group that came together. Everyone was included: the "Gordo" Romero (the Group's doctor), pilots, technical support staff, logistics personnel, etc. Everyone was part of a perfectly functioning team where each specialty contributed its grain of sand to ensure we could fulfill the assigned missions.
In particular, the air squadrons were very united; we knew the risks we were taking and enjoyed every minute we had available when we were not engaged in aerial operations. Each of us contributed goodwill and a sense of humor to always keep the group's spirit high.
When it was time for aerial missions, we always volunteered to go on them. With my dear friend Tucu Cervera, we even argued at times to be part of certain missions.
The Air Squadrons were a perfect combat machine that, despite the old nature of the aircraft, demonstrated to the world what can be achieved with training, ingenuity, effort, sacrifice, and a will to fight.

10) Is there a specific aircraft you flew during the conflict that holds a special memory for you?
Fundamentally, the A4-B with registration number C-231, as it was the aircraft that brought me back on June 8th after surviving the attack of two Sea Harriers in Bahia Agradable.

11) Before or after the conflict, did you ever fly a mission that pushed the limits of your aircraft's capabilities?
During our preparation and training in peacetime, we always conducted long-duration navigation flights. This is part of the training for combat pilots in the Air Force, as our potential targets to attack are always located in the heart of enemy territory (runways, command and control centers, enemy power centers, logistics bases, etc.).
I have several examples of these training flights we carried out (some of them with training ammunition, as we ended the navigation flights with shooting practice in designated areas).
One of the flights I remember was from Villa Reynolds (the natural base for A4-Bs in San Luis) to the Iguazú Falls, air refueling with the C-130s, and returning via a different route to the 5th Air Brigade (Villa Reynolds).
On another occasion, we took off at night with Tucu Cervera (before dawn) from Río Gallegos (where we were deployed to train for operations in the southern part of the national territory), flew at low altitude during the night, carried out a simulated night attack on the Comodoro Rivadavia Air Base, and returned to Río Gallegos. The entire final phase of the approach and attack on Comodoro Rivadavia was carried out with the aircraft's external lights turned off.

12) Did you ever have a mission where you couldn't reach the target? What did you feel?
On June 7, 1982, we set out on a mission to attack naval targets southeast of Gran Malvina Island with Danilo Bolzan as the leader, "Conejo" Dubourg (our Squadron Leader) as Number 2, and myself as Number 3. Unfortunately, despite flying over the area, we were unable to locate any ships, so we had to return to Río Gallegos. The feeling is mixed; on one hand, there is the risk and fear that comes with the aerial formation remaining in the combat zone searching for the enemy (due to the possibility of being detected and intercepted by Sea Harriers). On the other hand, there is the frustration of not being able to locate the targets to neutralize them. Every target that was not attacked or found at the time represented an enormous risk for future attack formations heading into the conflict zone.

13) What is your relationship with your veteran comrades today?
There is a great friendship reflected in the permanent gatherings we organize to share a meal and remember the harrowing days we lived through during the conflict. Of course, our fallen friends and comrades are always present with us, remembered with affection and especially for the human qualities that characterized them. What always stands out during our gatherings is maintaining the same spirit we had during the conflict. Through jokes, songs, and good humor, we avoid dwelling on the risks we faced during those days.

14) When — if it is the case — did the war end for you?
The war still hasn't ended for me; we only lost a battle. None of the members of our group ever surrendered — we were simply ordered to suspend aerial operations. We still had the equipment and crew members to continue fighting despite the losses we had suffered up to that point (9 pilots). Today, the war must continue, even if it is through other means (for example, diplomacy or politics). The strategic objective must never be abandoned.

15) Did you have a mission assigned to be carried out after June 14, 1982, and were you surprised by the surrender?
Aerial missions were suspended on June 14. The surrender in the Islands did not personally surprise me; after the British landing at San Carlos Bay and their advance toward Puerto Argentino, without facing resistance with the available means, the outcome that occurred was foreseeable. Airpower alone is insufficient to stop a landing or the advance of ground forces.

16) Did the war end for you?
The conflict did not end, and it remains a part of my life that has not been fully closed. What's more, even today, we must fight against the forgetfulness of our blessed people regarding the noble cause that was undertaken to recover our Malvinas. I don't want to be simplistic or generalize, as there are always exceptions to the rule. It is sad to see today how divided we are in every area we observe: those who fought and those who did not; the professionals versus the conscripts; those who receive a pension and those who do not. It is truly painful to see the neglect of the effort made by those who gave their lives in combat. At the time, everyone volunteered to fight for their country, without expecting any medals, recognition, or economic compensation. It seems that today, our leaders "buy" or satisfy us with handouts, whether we are poor, war veterans (VGM), or friends of those in power. An example to follow is the one being set by the Japanese people in the face of the difficult times they are going through after the natural disasters they have had to endure. Only national unity will eventually allow us to achieve our strategic objectives, be it the Malvinas, progress and growth, stability, etc. But for that to happen, our people (including their leaders) must set aside personal and sectoral interests.

 

17) Did you go to the islands (landing) during the conflict? Under what circumstances?
No.

18) Did you go to the islands after the conflict? Why? (in case of a yes or no answer)
I haven't gone yet, but I plan to visit at some point. I would like to visit the places where I fought alongside my comrades during the conflict. Stepping on the soil of the Malvinas, even if it is not under our administration, might allow me to shed the "backpack" I have been carrying on my shoulders since the end of the conflict.

Relatos Históricos de la Guerra de Malvinas

San Martín: Tactical Genius in Crossing the Mountain Range

San Martin's genius in facing the mountain range

Revista Cumbres
Special collaboration: Esteban Ocampo


On the bicentennial of the impressive crossing of the Andes led by the great American strategist, a review of the planning and logistics devised to overcome the great obstacle.

 

The immensity of the mountain range was the obstacle to overcome.

Last February marked the 200th anniversary of the Crossing of the Andes, which General José de San Martín de Mendoza led to Chile in 1817 with the Liberation Army, in order to fight the royalists in their search for continental independence as part of his Strategic Plan.

The campaign has been highlighted on numerous occasions as one of the most intrepid, bold and strategically brilliant feats of all time.

Aside from the strictly military aspect and its political connotations of the time, it is worth highlighting logistical and planning aspects, strategies that San Martín devised to first battle the immense mountain range in the real conditions of 2 centuries ago.

“Much emphasis is placed on the crossing and the end with the battle of Chacabuco, but we must speak of the crossing as a military campaign, something specifically prepared whose consequence was the liberation of Chile. "Only in this way can the genius of a certain José de San Martín be contemplated" explains historian Esteban Ocampo, one of the members of the campaign who recreated the crossing this year, faithfully respecting the conditions of the time. (See separate)

Six columns

San Martín designed the campaign dividing the Army into six columns on a front of 800 km from the south of La Rioja to the south of Mendoza, where the southernmost group crossed.

Two of these passes were main ones through which the bulk of the Army of 2,500 men circulated. The other passes were auxiliary ones with columns that were not very numerous and with the intention of distracting and dispersing the enemy forces in specific missions -already in Chile- so that they would not have all their power at their disposal in the battle of Chacabuco.

A main column advanced along the Uspallata route under the orders of Colonel Gregorio de Las Heras together with the artillery under the command of Fray Luis Beltrán. The pass, accessible and low, was very used for trade at the time.

The other important column went through San Juan, the Los Patos route through Valle Hermoso which was divided into Ojo de Agua and Paso de Ortiz, where part of the advance party passed, and the Yaretas pass, where San Martín actually crossed.

The secondary routes were Comecaballos in La Rioja with Lt. Col. Zelada; Guana, north of San Juan under orders of Lt. Col. Cabot; Portillo-Piuquenes, through the Tunuyán valley from the Fort of San Carlos under the orders of Captain Lemos; and Planchón, south of Mendoza through the area of ​​the Peteroa volcano in charge of Lt. Col. Freyre.

 

One of the many rivers they had to wade through in the Andean campaign.

Clothing

The traditional uniforms were made of a very particular cotton cloth, a type of fabric that was thermal enough to not be too hot in summer but was warm enough in winter. Under the jacket they wore a high-necked shirt and the officers also wore a vest.

In the case of the Grenadier Regiment they received short red jackets made of sheepskin called “pellizas” that they wore as a coat over the jacket. They also wore black cloth trousers with leather reinforcement. Most of the soldiers wore Cuyo ponchos and cloth cloaks with a warm inner lining.

The trousers had a leather reinforcement to prevent wear from rubbing against the saddle in the case of the riders and on the cuff to protect the clothing from damage from the stirrups.

To keep their feet warm, each soldier used “tamangos,” a kind of sheepskin covering that was placed over their shoes, which were usually made of leather with buckles. In the case of the Infantry, they called a boot a short, mid-calf or even knee-high gaiter that went over the shoes.

For their hands they wore cloth gloves, for their heads they covered the back of their necks and ears with scarves, and on top of that they wore a “head cover,” a cap or hat, a kind of beret that they wore during training in the barracks. In other units they wore caps with sleeves that fell to one of the shoulders.

The regiments wore three uniforms: the barracks uniform, the campaign or combat uniform, and the parade or gala uniform, the latter being the most striking. The one used for crossing was the combat uniform.

At night, very simple reinforced cloth tents were set up in less than 3 minutes. They had four poles and two guy lines, one in front and one behind. Each tent accommodated 2 to 3 soldiers and they used individual saddles, fleeces and blankets as beds, and even the saddle served as a pillow. They covered themselves with the same coat as each other.

 
San Martín's first great challenge was to overcome nature.

Food

As the main food to face the crossing of the high peaks, each soldier carried a piece of charqui that they ground and cooked quickly in a kind of Valdivian broth with lots of onion and garlic for altitude sickness. They were meals in the style of carbonada or succulent stew that provided a significant amount of protein with the simplicity of preparing it in a few minutes to immediately recover strength.

The Army also carried 700 cattle on the hoof that they slaughtered as the columns advanced. Thus, fresh meat was available as a roast or stew.

Bread, flour biscuits, vegetables, nuts and a daily ration of liquor completed the diet to avoid the effects of altitude and cold, since that was what the campaign's food plan was about, which also resulted in simple and quick food to prepare.

Logistics

Each column on its march itinerary had a detailed description of each day: the points they had to join, the length in leagues, the availability of water, grass and firewood, the type of terrain and forest. This information was useful for the guides to regulate the march and thus reach the planned points.

The instructions began with the following text: “You will advance according to prudence, your experience and the intelligence you have to comply with these orders.”

Communications through messengers were also very important. It is known that San Martín sent constant messages to Las Heras to speed up or slow down the march depending on the tactics. In the diary of Bernardo O’Higgins, the vanguard of the Los Patos route, these communications are recorded, which he sent to San Martín in the rearguard.

The central concept of the plan to cross the Andes was to minimize any problem, error or imponderable when facing the mountain. In 1816, the Great General confessed in a letter to Tomás Guido that what kept him awake at night was not the opposition, what the enemy might be preparing on the other side, but being able to cross this mountain range with 5,000 men and then give battle.

The precise and coordinated arrival of the columns on February 8, 1817, to Santa Rosa de los Andes was the result of precision in communications and efficiency in planning. This made the achievement possible and led to the military triumph of Chacabuco. Crossing the mountain range having fulfilled the objectives designed was half the battle won.

 

The group that designed and carried out a historical recreation of the San Martin crossing.

A faithful recreation

A group of people who make up the Historical Cavalry Squadron crossed the Andes last February, emulating and paying homage to the liberating feat and in exactly the same conditions as the Army formed and led by General José de San Martín in 1817 did 200 years ago.

Without any technological aid, dressed in the same clothing and sleeping in period tents, on February 3, 2017 (what a date) six “reenactors,” a cameraman, and three guides who traveled through the Argentine side took the initial step from the San Juan town of Tamberías to realize a dream and a feat that they have been planning since the end of 2015.

The preparation included a lot of personal training, constant medical checkups, horseback riding practice, all to be able to face eight to ten hours of mounted marching every day at altitudes above 3,500 meters.

They used clothes made with the same fabrics used in the San Martin Army, the same tents, blankets, utensils such as lanterns, candles, sabers, all derived from a deep historical investigation to reproduce the feat faithfully.

The saddles served as beds at night, and the same poncho as a coat was a blanket to try to sleep in the middle of the relentless cold of the mountain range.

Pablo Zamprogno, Esteban Ocampo and his son Martín (10), Javier Madariaga, Guadalupe Strada and Daniel Gwaszdac are the members of the Reenactors Group of the Historical Cavalry Squadron. The itinerary was approximately the one taken by the column led by Lt. Col. Juan Manuel Cabot in 1817, through the North of the province of San Juan known as Guana Pass. After six days of travel through La Vega Grande, Los Azules, Los Esteros de la Mula and La Cuesta, they arrived at “Paso del Gordito” where Chilean authorities from Monte Patria and Ovalle welcomed them to cross the border. Then came Las Ramadas, Tulahuen, Huana, Monte Patria, Ovalle, Barraza and finally Coquimbo and La Serena, the final objective of the great enterprise, always received by the towns with great joy and emotional recognition.

The objective of the initiative was to experience the crossing of the Andes as San Martin's soldiers experienced it 200 years ago. The result, in the evaluation made by its protagonists, was highly satisfactory and a reason for greater admiration for those men who accompanied the Liberator in 1817.

1955 Revolution: The Final Clashes

The Final Clashes
1955 Guerra Civil. La Revolucion Libertadora y la caída de Perón





Buenos Aires, early morning of September 21, 1955: Army tanks destroy the headquarters of the Nationalist Liberation Alliance

By the evening of September 20, 1955, it was evident that the Peronist regime was on the verge of collapse. However, concerns remained about potential retaliation, not so much from the Armed Forces but from loyalist unions and party militias. Anticipating such a response, the Ministry of the Navy was heavily fortified around 8:00 PM due to rumors of an imminent attack by Peronist militias. Rebel forces prepared for a potential evacuation via naval routes, deploying the Ushuaia transport, the Mandubí tug, and a towed infantry landing craft.

Rebel forces consolidated their positions, arming troops with light weapons, machine guns, and grenades to repel any attack. Troops took defensive positions near the Naval Workshop and the Hotel of Immigrants, awaiting orders to board, while maintaining a heightened state of alert.

Meanwhile, the Nationalist Liberation Alliance, a steadfast Peronist stronghold, was mobilizing for combat. Despite the political chaos, the Alliance, led by Guillermo Patricio Kelly, demonstrated unwavering loyalty. Their headquarters was converted into a makeshift fortress, with the ground floor serving as a field hospital and the upper floors used to destroy compromising documents. Kelly, having secured weapons directly from Perón’s aides, was resolute in fulfilling the battle cry: “La vida por Perón” (Life for Perón).

Rumors of unions distributing arms to workers prompted the Military Junta to summon union leader Hugo Di Pietro for clarification. Di Pietro denied the allegations and invited inspections to confirm the union’s neutrality. In response, the Junta issued appeals to union, party, and religious leaders to prevent violence and restore order.

Simultaneously, military leaders moved decisively. General Raúl Tassi took control of the Ministry of Communications, ensuring the resumption of national telecommunications and confiscating weapons allegedly intended for distribution among workers.

As the day ended, reports reached Tassi that the Nationalist Alliance had rejected ceasefire terms and was preparing for battle. General Audelino Bergallo, in command of Buenos Aires, issued an unambiguous order: “Destroy them with cannon fire!” Preparations began for a full assault on the Alliance’s headquarters.

A military detachment, led by Captain Guillermo Genta and Cadet Heriberto Justo Auel, equipped a truck with machine guns and advanced towards the Alliance’s stronghold. Amid torrential rain and deserted streets, they arrived at the location, supported by tanks poised to fire. Meanwhile, Kelly, heavily armed, left the building to negotiate directly with military officials at the Ministry of the Army.

Despite calls for surrender to avoid bloodshed, the defiant Alliance remained entrenched, ready to fight to the bitter end for Perón. These tense moments underscored the depth of division within Argentina as the regime crumbled.

In the early hours of September 21, 1955, tensions reached their breaking point in Buenos Aires. Guillermo Patricio Kelly, the fiery leader of the Nationalist Liberation Alliance, stormed out into the rain-soaked streets of Reconquista, ignoring the tanks and cavalry company positioned for an imminent attack. Consumed by fury after being told by Major Renner that Perón was leaving to avoid bloodshed, Kelly fumed: “What do I tell my men when they see their leader escape?” His defiance was evident, but fate had other plans.

As Kelly marched back toward the Alliance headquarters, he was stopped in his tracks by armed soldiers who ordered him to surrender. Disarmed and detained, Kelly was sent to police custody. Meanwhile, the situation at the Alliance’s stronghold deteriorated rapidly.

At precisely 1:14 AM, the 600 militants inside the building—who had vowed to die for Perón—opened fire on Army forces from windows and rooftops. The Army responded with machine-gun fire and tear gas, but the militants held their ground, displaying extraordinary fanaticism and resolve. The Army escalated the assault, with tanks unleashing a barrage of shells that shook the concrete structure and echoed through the city.

By 2:00 AM, the building was engulfed in flames. A devastating tank shell struck the munitions depot inside, triggering explosions that further destabilized the structure. The surviving militants evacuated, dragging their wounded comrades as the battle raged on. By 2:30 AM, the Alliance headquarters lay in ruins, its collapse symbolizing the fall of a regime marked by violence and repression.

Amid the chaos, two fire brigades arrived to prevent the flames from spreading to nearby buildings, while curious onlookers were kept at bay by law enforcement. The fiery destruction cast a sinister glow over Buenos Aires, marking the end of the Alliance’s defiant stand.

Elsewhere, confusion reigned within the naval forces loyal to the rebels. Believing a counterattack was imminent, Admiral Domingo Aramburu disbanded the Naval Operations Command, allowing his men to act independently. Most boarded the Ushuaia and Manduví, leaving others scattered throughout the city or holding their positions. In the disarray, the ships departed prematurely, abandoning some personnel and failing to secure critical equipment.

The dramatic fall of the Nationalist Liberation Alliance headquarters and the disorganized retreat of naval forces underscored the unraveling of Perón’s remaining loyalist factions. It was a night of fire, defiance, and collapse, sealing the fate of a regime that once dominated Argentina’s political landscape.

ALN Rally During Peronism’s Heyday

A Glimpse of Glory: ALN Rally During Peronism’s Heyday

In the height of Peronism’s reign, the Nationalist Liberation Alliance (ALN) hosted grandiose rallies that epitomized their unwavering loyalty to the regime. The atmosphere buzzed with fervor as flags waved and voices roared in unison, chanting praises for Perón and vows of eternal allegiance. These gatherings showcased not just political solidarity, but a deep-rooted ideological commitment that blended nationalism, populism, and militant resolve.

The ALN, renowned for its fierce rhetoric and combative stance, drew crowds with theatrical displays of patriotism, fiery speeches, and the ever-present symbolism of the Peronist movement. Leaders like Guillermo Patricio Kelly stood at the forefront, rallying supporters with impassioned calls for unity and defiance against perceived enemies of the state. It was a spectacle of both political power and popular devotion, a reflection of the strong grip Perón held over his followers during his golden era.

These moments, rich with enthusiasm and idealism, painted a stark contrast to the chaos and disintegration that would later consume the Alliance. In those days, the ALN stood tall as a pillar of Peronist militancy, confident in its cause and unwavering in its mission to defend the regime at all costs.

On September 21, clashes also broke out in Mar del Plata. That morning, the population spontaneously gathered in the city center, forming large groups of men and women who, despite the rain, marched to the Casa del Pueblo, headquarters of the Socialist Party, to listen to fiery speeches by several opposition representatives, including Roberto Crocitto and Aurelio Principi.

By midday, a naval patrol traveling in a military truck spotted five suspicious individuals walking along the street. When ordered to stop, they ran toward the building at Av. Luro 3137, barricaded themselves inside, and began firing from the third floor.

An intense shootout ensued, with additional troops patrolling the area joining the fray. The confrontation ended when the Peronist militants fled the scene.

In the afternoon, several people arrived to inspect the bullet marks on the building's third and fourth floors and verify rumors of multiple casualties. However, the new authorities provided no official information, and after a couple of hours, the crowd dispersed.

Later that night, around 10:00 PM, another shootout occurred. Groups of Peronist workers, taking cover behind freight wagons at the train station and the dense vegetation of nearby forests, attacked Navy forces guarding the radio stations in the Municipal Sports Park. The exchange of fire lasted until 5:00 AM on September 22 and ended when the unionist groups withdrew, taking several injured comrades with them.

As with the previous day, the Friends of the Local Workers' Union Movement issued a new statement reaffirming their earlier proclamation, urging workers to cooperate with the occupying forces and peacefully continue their daily occupations.

Attendance and dedication to work, despite any attempts to disrupt it, are today our greatest weapon. Ensuring that the city’s economy remains unaffected is our best contribution to maintaining normalcy. At this moment, there are no union leaders in charge, and no one can claim direct representation. However, there must be, in every workplace, a steadfast commitment to work conscientiously.

The Revolution has given true meaning to the slogan “Produce – Produce”, as production now benefits everyone—serving the normal life of the people and the goals of the Liberating Revolution [3].

The final military action of the Liberating Revolution occurred at 5:00 AM, following General Lonardi's decision to break the ceasefire in Córdoba. By that time, Lonardi had been chosen as the future president of the nation, and preparations for forming a new cabinet were underway. However, during the night, suspicious troop movements were observed both in the southern provinces and Córdoba, violating the imposed ceasefire. Perceived as a potential threat to the rebel forces, these maneuvers prompted a demonstration of force to signal the provisional junta of generals that the revolutionaries were prepared for any escalation.

As historian Ruiz Moreno explains, the rebels targeted the Las Higueras airfield in Río Cuarto. The airfield posed a strategic risk, as it could serve as a launch point for loyalist aircraft capable of striking the Aviation School and the provincial capital. Responding to the threat, Commodore Krausse contacted Base Comandante Espora to request an airstrike. The Revolutionary Air Command approved the mission, and Captain Arturo Rial dispatched two Avro Lincoln bombers piloted by Captains Ricardo Rossi and Orlando Jesús Cappellini.

In the early hours of the morning, the bomber crews loaded their aircraft with 200-kilogram bombs and ammunition, performed pre-flight checks, and taxied to the runway. At 2:15 AM, Cappellini's aircraft took off first, followed closely by Rossi's, embarking on a perilous night mission under torrential rain and poor visibility. Years later, Cappellini recalled the challenging conditions: “We took off after 2:00 AM in torrential rain. They provided us with excellent 200-kilogram bombs, which we didn’t have in Córdoba, but they lacked safety fuses.”

By 4:00 AM, the bombers reached their target. However, Cappellini's aircraft faced a critical issue: one of its turbines had detached during acceleration, compromising its stability. Communicating with the control tower at the Aviation School, he reported the malfunction. In response, Captain Hilario Maldonado instructed Cappellini to maintain a circular holding pattern over the target and delay the attack until 6:00 AM.

This marked the Revolution's final offensive—a calculated display of power in the face of lingering resistance, ensuring the success of their cause and the imminent transition of power.

September 21, 1955, 06:00: Captains Cappellini and Rossi Strike Río Cuarto Airfield (Photo: Juan Carlos Cicalesi)

At 6:00 AM, Captain Cappellini received the go-ahead to proceed with the bombing of Río Cuarto Air Base. Reviewing the coordinates on his flight chart, he noted the target was to be struck from an altitude no lower than 700 meters to avoid being hit by their own bomb shrapnel. Concerned about the risk of detection at dawn, Cappellini voiced his objections, but Commodore Krausse responded curtly and decisively: “Proceed with the order.”

Flying in circles until the designated time, the bombers waited for a break in the clouds. As dawn broke, the crossed runways of Las Higueras Airfield became visible through a gap, signaling the moment to strike. The two Avro Lincolns initiated their attack runs, releasing a total of eighteen bombs—ten from Rossi's aircraft and eight from Cappellini’s, though two bombs from the latter failed to release and remained stuck.

The mission complete, the aircraft sharply banked away from the target, enduring violent turbulence caused by the explosions below. Thankfully, none of the shrapnel struck the planes, allowing them to return safely to Base Comandante Espora. Cappellini’s aircraft, however, required a manual release of the jammed bombs, which the onboard mechanic jettisoned into the sea during the return flight. Both bombers landed safely at 8:00 AM, concluding the last aerial operation of the conflict.

The attack caused no casualties, as the airfield had been evacuated prior to the raid. However, it achieved its intended objective: intimidating loyalist forces. Shortly after the strike, General Falconnier called from Villa Reynolds, requesting the suspension of a planned bombing of the Río Cuarto rail station, where two trains carrying tanks had just arrived. He assured the rebels that no troops would be mobilized from that location, signaling the diminishing resistance to the revolution’s advance.

“"The day perfectly matches the occasion—a beautiful sun warms our chilled bodies. How wonderful is the sun's warmth after a freezing night!

Around midday, Alférez C. gathers all group leaders to remind us to keep personnel closer at hand. He, too, notices the gradual relaxation of discipline. Following his instructions, I assemble the group and address them. Fortunately, I find the right words to restore order without resorting to disciplinary measures. They’re all good men.

Finally, good news arrives! We’re informed that a military government has been formed to temporarily lead the Republic. General Lonardi has been named President, Vice Admiral Rojas is the Vice President, and our own Commodore Krausse will serve as Minister of Foreign Affairs.

Although we cannot fully grasp the significance of this moment, the truth is that we have helped change the course of our nation's history. The fall of this regime reaffirms that our people will never accept anything that tarnishes their most cherished legacy: their freedom.

First Lieutenant F. went to confirm the news and returned with happiness written all over his face. He gathered us in a clearing, shared the situation, and congratulated us on our efforts. Within our chests, we felt something I can only describe as the manifestation of that abstract entity we call the Fatherland.

The traditional ‘Subordination and Valor’ was never answered with more emotion.

We then received orders to prepare our gear and begin retreating as soon as possible. Alférez C. shakes our hands and toasts with us to celebrate the success of the movement.

Well, it seems I’m destined to savor every last drop of this Revolution. The entire company is heading back to the school, except for the groups led by ‘Turco,’ ‘Cabezón,’ and myself, tasked with guarding the northern sector of the airstrip. I’m tired—exhausted, really—but I try to lift the spirits of the troops. If I don’t, I don’t know where they’ll find the strength to continue. We are under the orders of First Lieutenant F., who seems deeply troubled by having to stay behind. It’s understandable; he has a wife and children waiting for him.

And so here we are, waiting for the tents to arrive so we can spend the night. When they finally arrive, we set them up, and then dinner is served—a plate of polenta with sauce, which soothes not just our hunger but the gnawing ache of exhaustion.

After posting guards at a nearby crossroads, I lay down. Thankfully, someone left me a cot, which is far more comfortable than the trench. My weary bones couldn’t be happier."

This vivid recounting captures the mix of relief, pride, and fatigue experienced by the soldiers in the final days of the Liberating Revolution, as they reflect on their role in shaping the nation’s future.[6].

Another View of the Destroyed Nationalist Liberation Alliance Building (Photo: Isidoro Ruiz Moreno, The Revolution of '55', Volume II)

 


The press publishes the attack to the ALN headquarters


Guillermo Patricio Kelly, ALN CEO several years after the attack


Brig. Orlando Jesús Cappellini, several years after the revolution. Jointly to Captain Ricardo Rossi led the last combat mission.

Notes

1. Isidoro Ruiz Moreno, op. Cit, T. II, p. 362.
2. Ídem, pp. 366-366.
3. Nieto, Agustín; op. Cit.
4. Ídem, p. 344.
5. Las bombas el piloto carecían de seguros y eso le impedía aterrizar.
6. “…del Diario de un Cadete”, revista “Cielo”, Buenos Aires.

Revolución Libertadora: Doubts and Fears Seal the Dictator's Fate

Perón Hesitates



Perón, Surrounded by His Ministers, Listens to the Report from General Arnaldo Sosa Molina (Ilustración: Isidoro Ruiz Moreno, La Revolución del 55, Tomo I)

A striking aspect throughout the conflict was Perón's peculiar behavior. His reticence and silence puzzled many, as he delegated full command to General Lucero. “Both supporters and opponents were baffled by his passivity, while battles that would determine the Nation's future—and his own—raged fiercely by air, sea, and land,” remarked one historian.

The man who once led Latin America’s most transformative social revolution, challenged the United States and the Allied powers after World War II, and attempted to create a "Fourth Reich" in Argentina by bringing Axis scientists and war criminals to the country, now seemed hesitant and devoid of initiative. His fiery rhetoric of the past still resonated, chilling citizens with its violent tone: "You ask me to fight? Why don’t you start yourselves?" (May 1, 1953), "The day hanging begins, I’ll stand with those doing the hanging!" (August 2, 1946), "They’ll have to kill me fighting!" (August 13, 1946), "We’ll raise gallows across the nation to hang the opposition!" (September 11, 1947), "We’ll distribute baling wire to hang our enemies!" (August 31, 1947), and his infamous declaration, "For every one of us, five of them will fall!" Yet, now, the man who had once uttered these words with conviction appeared paralyzed.

This mysterious inaction, paired with his silence since the hostilities began, began to irritate even his closest allies. Major Carlos Aloé, Governor of Buenos Aires Province, could not understand why Perón remained in his heavily guarded residence, avoiding both military command and leveraging his powerful influence over the Armed Forces and the public.

General Raúl Tassi, head of the National Defense School, observed Perón’s behavior during a meeting at the underground bunker of the Ministry of the Army, where the Communications Center of the Repression Command was based. The meeting, convened by General Lucero, brought together senior military leaders to monitor the ongoing conflict. Perón arrived accompanied by generals and colonels, visibly distressed and, by all accounts, frightened. His demeanor worsened upon learning that the Cuyo Army had also joined the uprising. At that moment, whatever composure he had left completely absent.

At the headquarters of the 1st Army Division in Palermo, General Ernesto Fatigatti requested authorization from Perón to lead the 1st and 2nd Infantry Regiments (then in reserve) in a march on Córdoba to crush the revolution by midday on September 21. However, Perón—once renowned for his oratory skills, his ability to captivate and inflame the masses—offered no response. Instead, he nervously smoked, drank coffee, and remained silent.

Years later, Perón’s nephew and aide-de-camp, Major Ignacio Cialcetta, revealed that the dictator “did nothing.” He left all decisions to Lucero and, while not entirely defeated in spirit, seemed detached. Perón reportedly spent two nights hiding in a house in Belgrano and, according to other accounts, in the nuclear bunker he had built beneath the Alas building—a claim without concrete evidence, though rumors also suggested he used it during the June 16 bombings.

Despite having capable and loyal generals—Lucero, Fatigatti, Iñíguez, and Sosa Molina—Perón failed to act. His attitude infuriated Interior Minister Dr. Oscar Albrieu, who met with him at the Government House in the early hours of September 19. Albrieu urged Perón to take charge of the repression, arguing that the situation was deteriorating. Yet, the president remained inert. Ruiz Moreno captures their exchange in his work, highlighting Perón’s indecision at a critical juncture:

-"General, don’t lose focus. Let’s return to the Ministry of the Army. Things there are not being handled properly."

-"And what do you want me to do?" Perón replied.

-"General, I believe you should assume command of the Repression Forces and announce on the radio that you will personally take command in Córdoba. I’m certain that would put an end to all of this.".

These words displeased Perón, who responded badly.

-You don't know the generals. I think they are handling things well. Besides, I don't like the fact that they kill the little soldiers. I prefer things to stay that way.

So it was Albrieu who expressed his annoyance.

-General, we are at war! I would even be justified in saying that the non-commissioned officer who kills a rebellious officer will take his place in the ranks...! I will take any measure to defend a constitutional government!

Despite the gravity in Albrieu’s tone, Perón did not react, effectively ending the conversation on the spot.

Meanwhile, General Lucero worked tirelessly, determined to crush the uprising as swiftly as possible. On the 18th, one of his first actions was to reinforce the units engaged in repression by calling up the 1931, 1932, and 1933 conscript classes in the First and Second Military Regions under the command of Lieutenant General Emilio Forcher. This measure bolstered key units, including the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd Infantry Regiments, the 2nd Artillery Regiment, the Regiment of Mounted Grenadiers, and the Motorized Regiment "Buenos Aires." Together with the security companies tasked with guarding arsenals, military factories, and depots, these reinforcements brought troop numbers to 18,000, not counting an additional 1,200 volunteers.

By Monday, the 19th, Perón arrived at the Ministry of the Army before 6:00 AM, accompanied by Governor Aloé. In Lucero’s office, Generals José Domingo Molina, Commander-in-Chief of the Army, and Carlos Wirth, Chief of Staff, informed him that the situation on the front was favorable and that the rebellion’s suppression was only a matter of hours. However, the leaders of the repression failed to recognize a critical error: by not ordering a final offensive with the requisite force, they allowed the revolutionaries to regroup. Hoping to avoid unnecessary bloodshed, they opted instead to pressure the rebel forces with sheer numbers, aiming to convince them of the futility of resistance. This half-measure was a serious misstep, as the revolutionary forces were resolute and prepared to fight with unrelenting ferocity, as demonstrated by General Lonardi’s fiery speech on September 16.

Perón had every advantage. His forces surrounded Córdoba and Bahía Blanca, the Cuyo troops were wavering, and no other garrison had declared against him. The Fleet posed the only significant threat, but the Air Force and Naval Aviation were expected to neutralize it.

Given these circumstances, the Peronist high command began to feel confident, even euphoric. However, in the middle of the meeting, Perón abruptly called for silence and requested to be left alone with Lucero and Aloé.

Confused but compliant, the senior officers exited the room, waiting in the antechamber in a mix of anticipation and uncertainty. As the door closed behind them, they had no idea that the final chapter of the crisis was about to unfold.

Once alone, Perón announced that he had decided to resign.

-We already know that these barbarians will have no scruples about doing so (he was referring to bombing the cities of La Plata and Buenos Aires). It is necessary to avoid massacre and destruction. I do not wish to be a factor in such savagery being unleashed on the innocent city, and on the works that we have worked so hard to build. To feel this, it is necessary to know how to build. Parasites hardly love the work of others.

Lucero and Aloe were speechless, astonished and confused. They remained like that for a few moments until Lucero broke the silence to express that he was in solidarity with his boss and that, consequently, he would also resign. However, he immediately seemed to react and, trying to convince Perón, he expressed his opinion, proposing the creation of an operations force under the direct orders of the president based on the First Army Division, declaring at the same time Buenos Aires an open city, defended by elements of the General Maritime Prefecture, the National Gendarmerie, the Federal Police and the Armed Forces (the latter in small numbers), all of them supported by Peronist militiamen. However, his words were of no use. Under the pretext of avoiding a useless shedding of blood and the destruction of what he considered his “masterpiece”: the oil installations in La Plata, Perón repeated that he had decided to leave power. Lucero insisted again, explaining that the rebellion was practically under control and that it was only a matter of hours before both Córdoba and Bahía Blanca fell (he knew perfectly well that the Army of Cuyo did not constitute any threat). But even so, Perón maintained his position and withdrew, ordering a meeting of generals for that same afternoon.



Two hours later, the still-President of the Nation sent Lucero a handwritten note addressed to the Army and the People. In it, he announced his resignation and declared that he was leaving everything in the hands of the Army, the only entity he deemed capable of taking control of the situation and achieving the much-desired pacification of the country.

With the note in hand, Lucero summoned Vice President Rear Admiral Alberto Teissaire, Minister of the Interior Dr. Carlos Albrieu, and CGT Secretary General Héctor Di Pietro to his office. After informing them of its contents, he opened the floor for their comments. Di Pietro stated that if this was the general's will, the workers would comply, as they had always followed Perón's wishes. Expressing solidarity with his leader, Lucero immediately drafted his irrevocable resignation and then summoned General José Domingo Molina, entrusting him with organizing a Junta of Generals to take charge of governance and peace negotiations.

At 12:55 PM, Radio del Estado, broadcasting nationwide, issued a message that shocked both the revolutionary leaders and the broader population. General Lucero invited the rebel commanders to the Ministry of the Army to begin discussions aimed at pacifying the country and finding a resolution.

This announcement stunned General José María Sosa Molina, commander of repression in Córdoba, who could hardly believe what he was hearing. His astonishment was so great that he initially thought it was a tactic to confuse loyalist forces. “With victory practically in his grasp, Perón walked away,” Sosa Molina would later recall. “...With the battle nearly won, my commanders informed me they had heard the ceasefire order on the radio. I couldn’t believe it. We had everything in our hands, and now we were being told to hold our positions.” It wasn’t until he heard the resignations confirmed on the radio later in the afternoon that he accepted the situation.

A similar reaction came from the resolute General Iñíguez, who was leading his forces in a rapid advance toward central Córdoba. As his troops pressed forward, a messenger rushed to his position with an order to halt the attack and news that a junta of generals had assumed control. When Iñíguez learned that government forces were to cease all hostilities, hold their positions, and await further instructions, he was left dumbfounded.

At 2:27 PM, General Lucero's message, broadcast on Radio del Estado, was answered by Admiral Rojas aboard the La Argentina. Rojas announced that military operations would be suspended until midnight on September 19 and that the requested meeting would take place aboard his ship, anchored at the mouth of the Río de la Plata, rather than at the Ministry of the Army, as Lucero had suggested. Meanwhile, from Córdoba, Lonardi issued a statement signed as the leader of the "Revolución Libertadora," demanding the immediate resignation of the President and his entire cabinet. Distrustful of Perón, Lonardi took precautionary measures to ensure the revolution's success.

Notes

1. Isidoro Ruiz Moreno, op. cit, Cap. 9, Tomo II.
2. Ídem, p. 315, Tomo II.
3. It was the first time ever to use this designation.

1955 Guerra Civil. La Revolución Libertadora y la Caída de Perón

Paraguayan War: Chronology on Google Earth

Argentine Navy: Naval Traditions

Naval and Maritime Traditions: The Names of Argentine Warships

The names of Argentine warships are a naval tradition in their own right. The names San Martín and Brown have been used twelve times each to christen our ships, as many times as our national date: 25 de Mayo. Similarly, Libertad and Independencia have adorned sterns nine times each; 9 de Julio, eight times; and General Belgrano, six times.

This maintained tradition reflects the Argentine naval ethos, embodying its ideals, historic milestones, and heroes. The continuity in preserving and repeating these names ensures that the traditions they represent endure within the naval sphere and through time, transitioning from noble wood to sturdy steel with almost no interruption.

The old shipboard bulkhead clocks, once used to chime the hours in line with this system, are now valuable antiques cherished by collectors.

The general regulations currently governing the naming of Navy units were established by Permanent Order No. 1/81 of the Argentine Navy General Staff. This directive specifies the following categories of designations to be applied to ships inducted into the Argentine Navy:

[Include subsequent details from the original source, if applicable.]

Classification of Argentine Naval Ships

• Major Warships: Named after national heroes or dates of great national significance.

• Destroyers, Frigates, and Corvettes: Named after distinguished naval figures or traditional denominations of historically significant ships.

• Submarines: Named after provinces and territories, preferably those beginning with "S" or located along the maritime coastline.

• Minesweepers, Minehunters, Minelayers, and Mine Countermeasure Units: Named after provinces not covered in the submarine category.

• Tenders, Salvage Ships, and Ocean Tugs: Named after sailors or civilians who have rendered valuable services to the Navy.

• Training Ships: Reflect national ideals, names of former training vessels, or historic naval battles.

• Scientific Research, Hydrographic, Oceanographic, and Buoy Tending Vessels: Named after cities with maritime ports.

• Transport Ships, Assault Transports, Landing Ships, and Tankers: Named after geographic features such as channels or straits in Argentine waters, excluding Antarctic regions.

• Workshop Ships, Dry Dock Ships, Hospital Ships, and Logistic Ships: Named after sailors or civilians distinguished for their scientific or related services, or those who died in service.

• Icebreakers, Polar Ships, and Antarctic Stations: Named after geographical features in Argentine Antarctic waters or names historically linked to Argentine Antarctica.

• Fast Attack Craft, Patrol Boats, and Torpedo Boats over 200 Tons: Given descriptive adjectives that represent a combative spirit or names of past units with significant historical relevance.

• Fast Boats, Patrol Boats, and Torpedo Boats under 200 Tons: Named after riverfront cities or indigenous names from their operational zones.

• Hydrographic Vessels: Named after seabirds native to Argentine maritime fauna.

• Harbor Tugs and Dredges: Named after indigenous tribes, chieftains who supported national organization, or fish native to Argentine waters.

• Yachts: Named after visible stars and constellations in the Southern Hemisphere or former notable yachts in Navy service.

• Key Marine Infantry or Naval Aviation Units: Named after pioneers or prominent figures in their respective fields.

• Naval Bases, Air Stations, Marine Infantry Bases, and Naval Arsenals: Named after geographical or historical sites, or distinguished naval figures who contributed to the Navy’s prestige and advancement, or naval battles.

• Naval Schools and Academies: Named after distinguished figures within or associated with the Navy who promoted or brought prestige to it through intellectual or professional excellence.

The names of historic flagships, such as frigates or brigs now equipped with missiles, not only revive past glories but keep the spirit of these ships alive. This rich naval tradition is embodied in every exercise, task, or mission requiring competition or emulation, and in combat, when supreme sacrifice is demanded, they inspire the courage shown by their namesakes in history.

Every ship, no matter how small or modest its mission, carries its own unique set of naval traditions. These traditions are cherished by successive commanding officers and crews, who take pride in maintaining and expanding them. Interestingly, such traditions often begin even before a ship officially joins the Navy, as illustrated by the following examples:

Coins at the Base of Masts or Keels

The custom of placing coins beneath the base of sailing ship masts during construction dates back to antiquity. While its exact origins are unclear, it is often attributed to the Vikings, who extended the terrestrial tradition of embedding silver coins in the foundations of new homes—particularly in hearths or chimneys—to ensure the happiness of the inhabitants. Another interpretation ties the practice to the Roman custom of placing a coin in the mouths of the deceased to pay Charon, the ferryman of the underworld, thereby symbolically settling the crew's fare should the ship sink.

In the Argentine Navy, this tradition has continued, although its exact starting point is unknown. Recent ships, such as Meko 360 and 140 destroyers and corvettes, had Argentine silver pesos (patacones) from the 1880s placed under the first keel plate laid in the shipyard. For Type 1700 submarines, a similar coin is used, but it is recovered after launch. As part of the ceremony, the youngest worker involved in the ship's construction presents the coin to the ship's sponsor, who then entrusts it to the ship’s commanding officer.

The Anchor

The term "anchor" originates from the Greek word for hook or grappling iron. Chinese scholars claim that anchors, known as Ting, were used as early as 2000 BCE, with the character for “stone” representing them in writing. Early anchors consisted of bags of sand or stone, later evolving into carved stone versions made by skilled stonemasons. The ancient Egyptian city of Ancyra is said to have derived its name from anchor manufacturing in local quarries.

For the Romans, the anchor symbolized wealth and commerce, while for the Greeks, it represented trust and security—a meaning that persists in heraldry today. Early Christians adopted the Greek symbolism, associating the anchor with steadfastness, hope, and salvation. This is reflected in ancient catacomb paintings featuring anchors resembling those in use today.

The Boatswain’s Pipe

This quintessential naval tool has been used aboard ships since the era of galleys and has served as a symbol of command. By the 18th century, it became emblematic of the British Admiralty. Made from noble metals such as silver or gold, the boatswain’s pipe was essential for issuing commands. Its sharp, piercing sound could be heard even during fierce storms, making it indispensable for coordinating maneuvers.

In Argentine training ships, this tradition persists, with all orders for maneuvers transmitted using the boatswain’s pipe. Admiral Guillermo Brown introduced its use in March 1814, formalizing the honors rendered with the instrument. Skilled boatswains often tune their pipes to produce harmonious tones.

One notable symbol of this tradition in the Argentine Navy is the gold boatswain’s pipe belonging to Boatswain Liorca. He famously rendered honors to President Julio A. Roca when the president boarded the corvette A.R.A. La Argentina. In gratitude, President Roca gifted him the pipe, which Liorca’s son, Subofficer Serapio Liorca, later donated to the National Naval Museum, where it is preserved today.

Gun Salute Tradition

The tradition of firing gun salutes as a sign of courtesy is an ancient international naval custom. Historically, firing salvos demonstrated peaceful intentions, often accompanied by additional gestures that left the ship temporarily defenseless, such as lowering sails, bracing yards, or shipping oars.

In the Argentine Navy, Admiral Guillermo Brown adhered to this tradition as early as 1814, honoring the international custom of gun salutes. The number of salvos fired has always been an odd number, reflecting an old superstition associating odd numbers with good fortune. In earlier times, the extended reloading time for cannons led stronger navies, such as the British, to demand that weaker nations fire the first salute. By the 20th century, this was replaced by the principle of state equality, with salutes being returned shot-for-shot.

The tradition of 21-gun salutes dates back to the early days, when the British Navy established seven cannon shots as their national salute, answered from shore with three shots for every one fired from the ship—21 in total. At the time, maintaining gunpowder quality aboard ships was more challenging than on land. As gunpowder and ship magazines improved, the number of shots exchanged between ships and shore became equal.

In the Argentine Navy, 21-gun salutes are reserved for the President of the Republic, as Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces. They are also fired upon arriving or departing foreign ports designated as "saluting stations," when affirming a ship’s flag, or during a vessel’s first arrival at an Argentine port. It is standard protocol to perform this salute only when the national flag is raised, with personnel rendering a military salute while the salvos are fired. At sea, if possible, the honors detail assumes its role during the salute.

The Ship’s Bell

The ship’s bell has been in use aboard vessels since the early 13th century, traditionally mounted on the quarterdeck. Its chimes were regulated by half-hour sandglasses until the mid-19th century, with the bell rung each time the glass was turned.

During each watch, the bell is rung at half-hour intervals, with an additional chime for every half-hour, culminating in eight bells at the end of the watch. The sequence then resets at the start of the next watch. The distinctive method of ringing the bell involves paired chimes rung quickly, followed by a pause before the next set, as illustrated:

• Three bells: rat-tata (pause) tat.
• Four bells: rat-tata (pause) rat-tat.

This unique cadence is an integral part of shipboard tradition, reflecting the long-standing maritime heritage shared across navies.

The Cap Emblem

The anchor in the emblem on our caps symbolizes the naval profession to which we dedicate our lives. The rope encircling and embracing it, firmly secured in its ring, represents our existence, signifying that all our thoughts and actions are fully subordinated to our vocation. Gold, the purest and most precious metal, signifies that purity in thought and deed must guide our actions.

The laurel, a timeless symbol of strength and the character of the victor, in this emblem signifies that our spirit, dedicated to the profession we have chosen, must triumph over the material temptations of indulgence and neglect. The Sun, the King of Stars crowning the emblem, represents the lofty vision, thought, and action that a Naval Officer must possess.

Thus, the emblem is the symbol of the high ideals to which we devote our lives. It is the crest of Naval Officers, the "Knights of the Sea," which must remain proud, upright, and triumphant in the battles fought within our consciences. In these contests, the reward for the victor is none other than the satisfaction of duty fulfilled with loyalty, honesty, sincerity, and selflessness.

OSVALDO REPETTO

Malvinas: Battle Chronology

Maps, Dates and Battle Places