Beagle Crisis: General Las Heras Group

General Las Heras Group

A mechanized armored grouping was tasked with crossing through the passes near Bariloche, heading towards Temuco, effectively splitting Chile in two. This force consisted of approximately 7,800 men and around 200 combat vehicles, including Sherman tanks, Mowag vehicles, M-3 Diamonds, and M-113s. Leading the formation was the 28th Mountain Infantry Regiment (known as "Rodillas Negras"), a unit with a strong reputation earned in Tucumán in 1975. By the time the order to halt the operation arrived, some of its units had already crossed the border during the night.

Malvinas: Captain Azcueta and the ARA San Luis Performance

“I am ready”: the Captain’s Courage the Day the Firing Computer of the ARA San Luis Submarine Broke Down in Malvinas

The recovery of the Malvinas Islands on April 2, 1982 took the commanders of the submarine force by surprise, as they had not been informed of Operation Rosario. Nevertheless, they prepared as best they could a submarine with serious technical deficiencies and sailed with it within the exclusion zone. The decision of Frigate Captain Fernando María Azcueta and his inexperienced crew. And the order to destroy the enemy with the only possibility of firing torpedoes manually.

By Mariano Sciaroni || Infobae

The drumbeat of war on April 2, 1982 surprised the ARA San Luis (S-32) and all its crew, including its commander, Frigate Captain Fernando María Azcueta, 40 years old and son of one of the first submariners of the Argentine Navy. It was docked at a pier at the Mar del Plata Naval Base (BNMP), base of operations for the Navy's small submarine force.

ARA San Luis departs from Mar del Plata Naval Base

The surprise was due to the fact that the high naval command, in order to maintain the secrecy of the operation carried out that day, chose not to inform the commanders of the various units not directly involved about Operation Rosario: the capture of the Malvinas.

Therefore, the San Luis did not receive the order to prepare for a combat patrol until 24 hours after the assault on the islands. At that time, the recently completed crew began to prepare the ship, in order to make it fit for war in the shortest possible time.

The initial state of the submarine was not satisfactory and it greatly needed to enter dry dock, something that would have to be done at the Puerto Belgrano Naval Base, the main base of the Navy, since Mar de Plata lacked such facilities.

The hull, propeller and internal cooling pipes of the San Luis had accumulations of small parasitic crustaceans, which affected its performance, increased its noise level and limited its speed. However, as there was not enough time to travel to Puerto Belgrano, the clean-up was carried out in Mar del Plata by divers (students from the Diving School) who worked 24 hours a day, equipped with manual scrapers, for almost a week.

Frigate Captain Fernando María Azcueta speaks to his crew during the 1982 war patrol. The beard indicates that they had already been at sea for quite a few days

Despite intense efforts before departure, several critical issues with the unit remained unresolved. One diesel engine had been out of service since 1976 due to a broken engine block, and the other three suffered from cooling problems that limited their power. Additionally, the snorkel frequently allowed seawater into the submarine, and the bilge pumps were unreliable. The DUUX system, a passive acoustic rangefinder, was deemed inaccurate and out of service.

Survival equipment also posed significant concerns. The life raft ejection system was non-operational, hydrogen burners were outdated, and the oxygen meter was being repaired on land. Gas measurement capsules, crucial for safety, had expired in 1976. This was particularly concerning given that the submarine was considered modern, having been incorporated in 1974.

The crew’s training level was compromised by the Argentine Navy’s personnel rotation policy, which resulted in many new and inexperienced crew members aboard. Key positions, including those in fire control systems, were held by junior non-commissioned officers, as the most experienced submariners were in West Germany overseeing the construction of new TR 1700-class submarines.

Lieutenant Luis Seghezzi, an exceptionally young Chief of Navigation, had just graduated from the Submarine School in late 1981. He reflected on the high turnover among the crew, acknowledging that most had only been on board for three months and that this was his first experience with the submarine's weapon systems. He noted that while high turnover allowed for more personnel to be trained in new technologies, it did not necessarily ensure better responses in unprecedented situations, such as those faced during the mission.

 

ARA San Luis's trajectory from the "Enriqueta" area to the exclusion zone, finally entering the "María" patrol area, within the Exclusion Zone
 

While the senior officers of the San Luis had extensive experience with submarines, neither Captain Azcueta nor his second-in-command had any with Type 209 submarines like the San Luis. Azcueta himself had only spent 16 days at sea as commander before the war began, having taken command on December 19, 1981.

On April 11, late in the afternoon, the submarine, fully loaded with water, provisions, 10 SST-4 guided torpedoes, and 14 Mk 37 Mod 3 torpedoes, set sail from Mar del Plata with its 35 crew members. Second Corporal Eduardo Lavarello recalls the departure on that Easter Sunday as a cold, foggy evening, which was ideal for remaining undetected as they headed out to sea.

By April 13, Captain Azcueta reported the results of engine tests to his superiors, confirming that the engines operated acceptably up to 1200 amps, achieving a maximum submerged speed of 20 knots. Despite the numerous challenges—limited experience with the Type 209, an inexperienced crew, mechanical issues, and unreliable weapons—Azcueta's message concluded with the resolute words, “I am ready.” This declaration, made in the face of daunting odds and the prospect of confronting the world’s leading navy in anti-submarine warfare, encapsulates the captain’s bravery and determination.

On April 17, 1982, after an uneventful transit during which the captain continued to train his crew and address mechanical issues, the submarine received a coded message. They were ordered to proceed to a waiting area designated as “Enriqueta,” located southeast of Golfo Nuevo, near the Argentine mainland and just north of the British-established Exclusion Zone.

The VM-8/24 computer is out of service

Initially, due to ongoing diplomatic negotiations, there were strict Rules of Engagement that limited the use of weapons, similar to those imposed on British forces. Weapons could only be used within the Maritime Exclusion Zone and after positively identifying a target, except in cases of submerged contacts, which were presumed to be enemy vessels.

Two days later, the VM-8/24 fire control computer on the ARA San Luis failed completely, despite the crew's efforts to repair it. Captain Azcueta later explained that the computer lost its display and the target panels became unresponsive to sensor commands. The crew attempted multiple troubleshooting steps, including checking power supplies and adjusting voltage levels, but the computer remained largely nonfunctional, though it could still operate in a limited emergency mode.

The fire control computer is critical for a modern attack submarine, as it processes sensor data, calculates firing solutions, and controls torpedo guidance. The VM-8/24 system on the San Luis could track and prepare solutions for up to three targets simultaneously, integrating sonar, radar, and periscope data to determine positions and vectors.

The computer’s failure was a severe blow, leaving the submarine unable to use its automatic fire control system. This limitation meant that the San Luis could only fire a single torpedo at a time, which had to be manually guided by the crew, significantly reducing the submarine’s combat effectiveness.

With the breakdown of the computer, according to the post-war report, there was:

• Loss of the ability to automatically and instantly update the positions of the submarine, target and torpedo.
• Loss of the ability to accurately calculate the Aiming Angle (Torpedo Course) and its instant update.
• Poor precision of the manual guidance system dial (graduations every 5° by design)
• Practical impossibility of estimating the position of the torpedo and, as a consequence, serious difficulty in introducing effective corrections.

The seriousness of the breakdown led Azcueta to break the traditional radio silence with which submarines move and inform his superiors. The Commander of the Submarine Force (COFUERSUB) recognized the problem, but decided not to withdraw the ARA San Luis from the waiting area, after assessing the convenience of having at least one submarine patrolling despite the limitations it faced.

According to doctrine, the failure of the computer implies a “low probability of impact” and, therefore, the use of torpedoes is “in case of defensive launches and if no other weapon is available”. Therefore, it was considered that the failure of the computer implied “that the fulfillment of the unit's mission would be practically unfeasible”.


Inside the San Luis, however, and despite knowing the new limitations with which they would go to war, they were somewhat optimistic. As Lieutenant Ricardo Alessandrini, the submarine's Chief of Armament, recalls: “The firing control computer was not operational and left us short of capacity in the waiting area. This limited the number of torpedo shots that could be controlled from the submarine. However, in the submarine force we often practiced the old-fashioned method of firing torpedoes using manual calculations and it was entirely possible to carry out a successful attack with good information about our target.”

That is, the S-32 crew would launch torpedoes using plottings and abacuses, in the same way that straight-running torpedoes were launched at short distances until the beginning of World War II.

Captain Azcueta also narrates: “As has been said, during the stay in the Enriqueta area, we took advantage of the stoppage to intensify the training in the different roles and to adjust ship values ​​that we had not updated. Among them the so-called “cavitation threshold”. In a submarine, the speed at which its propellers cavitate (a fluid phenomenon that produces an undesirable and significant noise of its own), depends on the depth and increases with it. That is, if I increase the immersion plane, I can apply more speed without cavitating. With resignation we verified that, whatever the depth, up to 150 meters, we cavitated at 6 knots. This circumstance led me to be very cautious with the speed in the patrol area. It became evident that, despite the great effort of the student divers of the Diving School, the propeller had not been sufficiently cleaned. There was nothing to be done.

By April 26, the negotiations on the fate of the islands were practically closed. COFUERSUB (Command of the Submarine Force) decided to send the San Luis to the “María” patrol zone, located north of the islands. It arrived there on the 28th, not without danger.

In the afternoon of the same day, with the deterioration of the military and political situation, the S-32 received the order to destroy any enemy target if it found it within the Exclusion Zone around the islands: “From COFUERSUB to San Luis. I cancel restrictions on the use of weapons. All contact is enemy.”

Even with all the problems mentioned and a broken firing computer (the brain of the submarine), the San Luis would cover itself in glory in the days to come. Admiral Brown would have been proud of this brave Navy lad.

Argentina-Chile Naval Race: Argentina Buys Garibaldis (7/13)

The Brown's Robust Boy Is a Man Today

Gone were the days when riverine units, with heterogeneous crews, set out to sea to assert sovereignty in Santa Cruz.

As can be seen from the tables accompanying this work, the ARA not only ceased to be a riverine force in the 1880s, but also, following the motto "let us be strong and we will be respected," the national authorities, supported by public opinion, at a level of consensus rarely equaled in our history, had drawn up plans to obtain not only parity, but naval supremacy in South America.

It should be noted that with the acquisition of the transports, the ARA Guardia Nacional (6,700 tons), the ARA Chaco and the ARA Pampa (8,700 tons), the ARA has an effective transport squadron, since these ships, together, can carry a load of 15,000 tons and supplies. The incorporation of the four "Garibaldi" type armored cruisers was an unbalancing factor that totally altered the balance of power in favor of Argentina. These ships, well protected, armed and fast, were the most modern, most powerful and most homogeneous group of warships in the Southern Cone. The Jane's Fighting Ships yearbook for 1936 observes in this regard: these ships constitute the best class of armored cruisers ever designed. The four "Garibaldis": together with the cruiser ARA Buenos Aires, destroyers, auxiliary ships, make up the Bahía Blanca Division, while the cruisers ARA 9 de Julio, ARA 25 de Mayo and ARA Patria and auxiliaries make up the Río de la Plata Division. On January 8, the Bahía Blanca Division sets sail on a series of exercises through the southern ports that will take it to the Beagle Channel. These exercises will last for 80 days. On January 18, in turn, The Río de la Plata Division sets sail on a journey that will take it to Cape Horn, which will last 62 days. The crews carry out exhaustive artillery, torpedo and landing practices without the slightest incident or accident. As an article in the Bulletin of the Naval Center proclaims in those days, it was evident that "the robust child of Brown is a man today" (3 )

Despite the meeting between the presidents of Argentina and Chile known as "The Embrace of the Strait", tensions, far from decreasing, increased.

As we have seen, with the acquisition of a cruiser (the Chacabuco) and six destroyers by Chile, Argentina responded with the purchase of the ARA Moreno and ARA Rivadavia. Chile, in turn, used funds reserved for the sewerage of Santiago and ordered two battleships of 11,800 tons. Day after day, the Argentine authorities received coded telegrams from the military and naval commissions in Europe detailing the urgent purchases of ammunition and all kinds of items by the Chilean authorities. The Argentine commissions, of course, also had no rest, ensuring the provision of grenades of all calibers in large quantities, replacement fuel stocks and the thousand and one indispensable items. The response to the two new Chilean battleships would not take long to arrive: two 14,800-caliber battleships that would be built by the Ansaldo Company, in a construction period similar to that of the new Chilean ships. These ships, which would be called ARA Chacabuco and ARA Maipú.

In addition, the ARA signed a contract with the Pattison Company, of Naples, for six destroyers of the "Nembo" class that were under construction for the Royal Italian Navy, and whose first units had already been launched in October 1899.

With the consent of his country's government, a well-known Chilean financier contacted the British minister in Santiago, as the arms race threatened to ruin both countries. An Argentine industrialist and financier, in turn, initiated contacts with the British minister in Buenos Aires. The British minister in Santiago in turn contacted London and the British minister in Buenos Aires, and an agreement was reached by this means. Chile agreed to part with its two ships under construction if Argentina in turn agreed to do the same with the four ships ordered.

The "Constitución" and "Libertad" were acquired by England to prevent these ships from falling into the hands of the Tsarist Russian navy, as this country was on the verge of war with Japan, a country with which England had established an undeclared alliance, and a country whose fleet had been built almost entirely in English shipyards, and was governed by British patterns. The ARA Moreno and ARA Rivadavia were sold to Japan while they were still under construction. In that country they were designated Nishin and Kasuga. When the anticipated war between Japan and Russia broke out, these ships distinguished themselves during the bombardment and siege of Porth Arthur and the naval battle of Tsu-Shima.

The ARA Chacabuco and ARA San Martín were never built. The peace agreements made them unnecessary. According to oral sources, the abundant materials collected for these units were used for the construction of some of the four battleships of the "Roma" class, for the Italian Navy, since they were ships with practically the same characteristics and armament.

The ARA also cancelled the contract for the six "Nembo" class destroyers, whose construction, since the danger of war had disappeared, was carried out at a slower pace by the Pattison shipyard and they were incorporated into the Italian Navy, where they were designated Aquilone, Borea, Espero Nembo, Turbine, and Zeffiro.


Nembo class destroyers
Displacement: 450 tons
Length: 70 m
Beam: 7 m
Draft: 1.90 m
Armament: 5 x 102 mm
4 torpedo tubes
Engine: 5200-5350 HP
Maximum speed: 30-30 1/2 knots
Crew: 65 men


Photos:

1) Armored cruiser ARA "Moreno" during trials under the national flag. 1903-?


2) ARA Entre Ríos class destroyers- (photos Ingo Würster collection)

ARA Moreno, ARA Rivadavia
Builder: Ansaldo, Genova (Italy)
Launched: May, 1902
Completed: January, 1904
Displacement: 7,750 tons. (9,800 complete)
Dimensions:
Length: 105.15 m
Beam: 18.7 m
Draft: 7.90 m

Armament: (Armstrong)
-4 x 203 mm L.45 (Rivadavia" 2 x 254 L.45)
-14 x 152 mmL.45
-10 x 76mm L.40
- 6 x 47 mm
- 8 Maxim machine guns cal 7.65mm
Torpedo tubes: 4x406mm
Armor:
-Belt: 152 mm
-Deck: 38 mm
-Turns: 140 mm
-Battery: 152 mm
Engine: 2 pairs of 3 cylinders, triple expansion: 13,500 HP
Speed: 20 knots (21 during tests)
Fuel: (coal) normal 650 tons, Maximum: 1100 tons
Crew: 525 -575 men.

Referencia
Jane, Frederick, Fighting Ships (Sampson, Low , Marston and Co, London, 1914) pag. 231 

Chaco War: The Argentine Support to the Paraguay War Effort

Argentine Support for Paraguay in the Chaco War

 


"No one dies on the eve, but on the appointed day (Nha ña mano bay i víspera – pe sino ghiarape)." I want to evoke these harsh words in Guaraní to describe the chilling photographic "Archive" of Dr. Carlos De Sanctis, compiled during the months he spent on the front lines of the Chaco Boreal battlefield. As he himself affirms, he was "…the first foreign doctor that Paraguay allowed to reach the front line…". "Chilling" is an appropriate term, as in my previous note, Facebook's intellectual censorship mechanism selectively blocked part of the content, which was taken precisely from the archive of the doctor from Rosario.

The astounding De Sanctis document captures in photographs, with annexed explanations as brutal as they are succinct (I would say "clinical"), what healthcare was like in the jungle, as seen by a "civilian" who served Paraguay in a war where Argentine public opinion was mostly inclined in favor of Paraguay and against Bolivia.

Other civilians, but with weapons in hand, served in the 7th General San Martín Regiment, formed in the Argentine House in Asunción and composed of a large number of Argentines—many from Goya, it seems—who played a distinguished role. We cannot forget the Argentine army officers who lost their careers due to the events of 1930, several of whom honorably served under the Paraguayan flag in the Chaco.

In terms of psychosocial support from Argentina, perhaps the most potent was the exaltation of Paraguay’s image, promoted by the media, which portrayed it as a small country under attack, a victim of unjust ambitions.

The other side of the coin is daringly presented in Buenos Aires in 1933, during the height of the conflict, by Bolivian diplomat Eduardo Anze Matienzo, under the auspices of the Engineering Students' Center, to a decidedly "pro-Paraguay" audience, as he put it.



Who is Anze Matienzo? A Bolivian who reached the highest position as a United Nations Commissioner in Eritrea and who served his diplomatic mission in Asunción in the years 1930 and 1931.

Anze gives a lecture titled "Bolivia in the Continent and in the Chaco Conflict." Extensive, substantial, and sharp, he laments the ignorance about his country, attributing it to "a prejudice that entails injustice," "…a subjective vision…".

I omit all the propositions about the rights of the parties he raises, ignore his arguments denying that Standard Oil subsidized Bolivia, and focus on "The Responsibilities of the War," where he argues against "Paraguay's 'gadfly' policy, which has weakened our governments and our people like an infectious and harmful disease for more than half a century." Anze postulates that Paraguay was a nation "burdened since the War of the Triple Alliance," which made it warlike because "López's madness, which led his people to collective suicide in the War of the Triple Alliance, had the virtue of creating a 'legend of heroism' whereby 'every Paraguayan considers himself an unparalleled hero, and the Paraguayan people form a cluster of heroes capable of making the world tremble'." He exemplifies this with the words spoken by his Paraguayan driver on the way to the legation: "I advise you, Secretary, to warn your compatriots that every Paraguayan soldier can fight ten Bolivians and defeat them." He concludes by stating that "when I left Asunción in 1931, Paraguay was already morally at war."

How does this situation, which this author perceives as a collective inheritance permeated by "the toxins of distrust, fear, and suspicion," this "hereditary poison," fit as a continuation of the historical process of the Francia and López dictatorships? Is it credible? Did Argentine literature play any role? I think it’s enough to recall Alberdi for reflection.



There are authors who believe they see in the former partners of the Triple Alliance a sort of guilty conscience for what happened in Paraguay, just as others see in the Chaco War an attempt at redemption, to heal the wounds of both belligerents. Paraguay with the "Guerra Guasú," and Bolivia with the Pacific War. I see a certain analogy between that historical moment and Paraguay’s struggle for the Chaco Boreal, claiming to be the victim, but quietly mobilizing, buying weapons on behalf of third parties, and being in a position to crush Bolivian forces in Boquerón and nearby forts by sheer numerical strength. And this against a world, perhaps due to its proximity to the disputed area, more inclined to see Paraguay as the attacked and Bolivia as the attacker, the aggressor, an image that the country to the west fueled not a little with the bravado and arrogance displayed by its military and politicians.

I have in my archive images circa 1931, of Paraguayan soldiers stationed in the remnants of the Curupaytí trenches, their greatest success against the allies, where I imagine seeing a ghostly wait for an enemy they hope will appear to be defeated. I see how the legend of Lopismo has not only turned the "marshal" into an eponymous hero but also portrayed Paraguay as a defenseless dove, unjustly crushed by the might of three nations. On the other hand, that Paraguay of despotism is presented as a developing nation, incomparable for its time. The similarities are abundant: López was also already preparing for war long before the allies; he was the one who attacked first, in Matto Grosso against Brazil and in Corrientes against Argentina. However, just a quick search on the web shows the proliferation of fabrications, which through repetition, have convinced not only Argentines but the world of the "justice" of the Lopista cause in that war. Argentine intellectuals, writers, and authors, especially those on the left, have played a significant role in this construction. Today, there are "scholars" who never tire of apologizing, sometimes seemingly just in case, to anyone who claims to have a score to settle with their own country. It’s worth noting that Brazilians, judging by their expressions on social media, display a very different attitude and don’t hesitate to proclaim themselves the victors, and rightly so. They haven’t even returned to Paraguay, despite repeated requests, war trophies like the "Cristiano" cannon, which remains in the Historical Museum of Rio de Janeiro.

Paraguayan networks post it as "Paraguayan historical heritage residing in Brazil."

Regarding Argentine support for Paraguay, I refer to the words of Paraguayan historian Julia Velilla de Arréllaga, who calls it an "essential aspect of the conflict," asserting that it was "decisive." She notes that this collaboration is spoken of very little in Paraguay because there was a pact of silence between the Paraguayan and Argentine leaders, because pressures from the Paraguayan press prevented leaders from confiding the help they received, because Argentina had proclaimed itself neutral, and because of the "subsequent partiality of the pro-Brazilian ruling sectors." Velilla concludes that "the truth is that Argentine aid was decisive and significant, even if it was (Admiral Casal)," because "how could Paraguay have continued the fight if it had not had Argentine support? It’s better not to consider such a scenario (José Fernando Talavera)."

Contributing to this, it is worth mentioning the supply of fuel, gasoline, and diesel throughout the war, as well as flour, since the Paraguayan soldier's ration was meat and hardtack, or at least something similar.

There is much more to say, but I will simply pay tribute to another of the Argentines who, when it came time to choose, fought shoulder to shoulder with the Paraguayans, and I do so with the words of ABC Revista, which speaks of "A Condor in the Chaco," referring to Riojan Vicente Almandos Almonacid, whose name is engraved on the Arc de Triomphe in Paris for his exploits as a combat pilot in the First World War. He was the one who organized the Paraguayan Air Force and flew the first missions. To be able to join the fight, he had to "sell his belongings and decorations."

I must also mention Colonel Abraham Schweizer, from Corrientes, who was stationed in Paraguay between 1931 and 1934. He became a legend, reportedly the one who designed the military strategy that Estigarribia implemented. Schweizer, reputed to be the most brilliant officer in the Argentine Army, founded the Paraguayan War School.

Finally, regarding Argentine intelligence support for Paraguay: When I was a first lieutenant, during a course, they brought in a very elderly colonel to honor him. We were told he was a sort of mathematical genius who, every morning with just paper and pencil, deciphered Bolivian—and Paraguayan—codes and delivered the clear messages to Minister Saavedra Lamas so he could proceed accordingly.



Source: Diario Epoca

War with Brazil: Naval Battle of Los Pozos

June 11th. Anniversary of the Battle of Los Pozos

Background

Imagine a nation on the brink, its borders threatened by a powerful empire, rivers blockaded, and its very sovereignty hanging by a thread. The year is 1825, and the fledgling United Provinces of the Río de la Plata faces a formidable foe: the Empire of Brazil, a giant that seeks to crush any resistance and expand its dominion.

As the specter of war looms, Buenos Aires is thrust into a desperate struggle for survival. A small, hastily assembled fleet, funded by the patriotic fervor of its citizens, is their only hope against Brazil's mighty naval forces. Meanwhile, danger lurks on the southern coast, where whispers of invasion and treachery among indigenous allies threaten to unravel the fragile unity of the provinces.

This is not just a battle for land or power; it is a fight for the very soul of a nation. The stage is set for a conflict that will shape the destiny of South America, where courage, strategy, and determination will be tested to their limits. Will the United Provinces rise to the challenge, or will they be consumed by the imperial ambitions of their neighbor? The answer lies in the epic struggle that is about to unfold. 

The Actions

Picture a nation under siege, its fate hanging in the balance as forces clash on both land and water. The rivers that were once lifelines have become battlegrounds, and the mighty Plata, once claimed by the Empire of Brazil as its own, now bears witness to fierce resistance.

In the closing days of May 1826, the Argentine fleet, though outnumbered and outgunned, dared to challenge imperial dominance. Brig Balcarce, alongside a few schooners and gunboats, stealthily maneuvered to Las Conchillas, where they began the daring task of disembarking troops. The Empire, seeking vengeance, dispatched a squadron of 30 ships to crush this audacious move. But on June 11, as they approached Los Pozos, they met an unexpected foe: Admiral Guillermo Brown, a man of iron will and unyielding courage.

With Buenos Aires as a backdrop and ten thousand spectators lining the harbor, Brown's fleet engaged the imperial forces in a blaze of cannon fire. For fifteen intense minutes, the river roared with the thunder of battle until, against all odds, the imperial ships turned south, retreating from the fray. As the sun dipped below the horizon, the Argentine fleet stood victorious, a testament to their resilience and determination.

Yet, while these naval victories ignited hope, the land war stagnated. The Argentine army, led by General Las Heras, remained in a tense standoff, hindered by political turmoil at home. In a bid to stabilize the nation, Congress acted swiftly, establishing a permanent executive power and electing Bernardino Rivadavia as president.

The stage is set for a dramatic turn in the conflict, where the tides of war may shift at any moment. The courage displayed on the rivers may yet inspire a nation to rise above the challenges that lie ahead, but the road to victory is fraught with uncertainty.



Wikipedia

Argentina-Chile Naval Race: Py Squadron in Patagonia (6/13)

Py Squadron in Patagonia

The Devonshire incident and its impact on Argentine-Chilean relations
Tensions with Chile

Part 6
From Part 5

The last quarter of 1878 is underway. Doctor Nicolás Avellaneda has been the president of the republic for four years, assisted by General Julio A. Roca in dealing with military issues, from the position of Minister of War and Navy.

The Argentine Republic has very tense relations with Chile due to border issues dating back to 1843, when the trans-Andeans had settled in the Strait of Magellan. This situation has worsened with the presence of Chilean navy ships in the waters of the Santa Cruz River.

In 1876 the French barge Jeanne Amélie was at the mouth of that river, engaged in loading guano, an operation that was authorized by the Argentine consul in Montevideo. On October 20 of that year the Chilean war corvette Magallanes appeared on the scene and captured the French ship. The Chilean authorities based in Punta Arenas ordered that the French ship and its crew, who were detained, be transferred to that port, and during navigation the Jeanne Amélie ran aground on a reef at Cabo Vírgenes and sank.

This seizure, which represented a disregard for our sovereignty over that region, caused great indignation among the national authorities and the Argentine people; protests were filed with the Argentine government, which refused to give satisfaction and affirmed that Chile's jurisdiction extended to the southern bank of the Santa Cruz River. As the months went by, spirits calmed down, while diplomatic efforts were carried out to put an end to the issue.

On June 19, 1878, Augusto M. Ventury, a merchant from Buenos Aires, notified E.L. Baker, the American consular agent in that city, who had rented an American merchant ship, the Devonshire, for the purpose of loading the guano accumulated on the islands located at the mouth of the Santa Cruz River. But on October 11 of that year, the Chilean corvette Magallanes arrived in the area and its commander demanded from the crew of the Devonshire -anchored on the island of Monte León- the authorization of the Chilean government to carry out the operation of loading guano. Since the men of the Devonshire did not have such authorization, the commander of the Magallanes decided to capture the ship and its crew and take them to Punta Arenas, with the aggravating dishonor towards the minimum decorum of the Chilean military that they abandoned their captain on land. (1)

The then Navy Lieutenant Carlos María Moyano, who served as Navy subdelegate in Santa Cruz, sent a communication to the General Command of the Navy in which he reported on the attack committed by the Chilean ship, which again caused the situation to reach a very delicate limit, the slightest issue could force the casus belli.

The Buenos Aires newspapers raised the alarm and stirred up public opinion, which demanded an end to Chilean interference in the Santa Cruz area. This reiteration of the insult on the part of Chile, led the Argentine government to send a warship to Santa Cruz to expel the Chileans from there. Dr. Avellaneda, in his message to the National Congress, stated: [... assuming the case of legitimate defense, the Executive Branch has decided to station a warship at the mouth of the Santa Cruz River, to build a fortification at its entrance and on its northern bank, equipping it with cannons and the corresponding garrison...

The Argentine authorities interpreted this incident as an insult to a friendly country. The Chilean authorities obviously adopted another point of view. As early as September 1878, Foreign Minister Alejandro Fierro had informed the American representative in Chile, Thomas A. Osborn, that an American ship was illegally loading guano south of the Santa Cruz River. After the incident, the minister clarified to the American diplomat that the actions of the Chilean government should not be considered as a provocation to the United States government, since any ship that violated Chilean territory would be captured in the same way. (2)

Monte León Island, Santa Cruz Province (Argentine Republic)

The incident, as in the case of the "Santa Cruz criminals," was linked to unresolved territorial jurisdiction. Chile claimed all lands located south of the Santa Cruz River, a claim that included, of course, the island of Monte León where the Chilean gunboat Magallanes had captured the Devonshire. This incident, far from being an isolated incident, responded to a defined line of Chilean foreign policy aimed at consolidating its dominance south of the aforementioned river. Thus, and with the aim of clearing up any possible doubt on the question of Chilean sovereignty in this area, the trans-Andean government had already issued a declaration on October 26, 1873, which was addressed to all foreign governments and established that Chile's authority should be respected south of the Santa Cruz River. The Chilean government added weight to this declaration when on April 27, 1876, it captured the French ship Jeanne Amélie for illegally loading guano, approximately in the same place as the Devonshire. For the Chilean government, the issue surrounding the Devonshire was simply one of reaffirming a long-established law. (3)


Chilean gunboat Magellan

In this new instance of the dispute between Buenos Aires and Santiago, the exaggerated reaction of both countries almost led to war. The Minister of War and Navy, General Julio A. Roca, with a deep understanding of the Patagonian problem - demonstrated the following year with the beginning of operations against the Indians to dominate the Desert - estimated that what Avellaneda proposed was not powerful enough and convinced the first magistrate that it was convenient to send a naval division to the Santa Cruz River. Roca's criteria prevailed and that is how Commodore Luis Py, then head of our Fleet, was appointed to carry out the delicate mission.

President Nicolás Avellaneda and his then Minister of War and Navy, Julio Argentino Roca, decided to occupy Santa Cruz and send warships to the southern area. Commodore Luis Py, of the Argentine Navy, received orders to organize and lead the naval division that was to set sail for Santa Cruz, with the objective of protecting the homonymous river from Chilean incursions. At the same time, according to the information provided by the American minister in Buenos Aires, General Thomas O. Osborn, on November 18, 1878, the Chilean government had sent two or three gunboats to Patagonia with experts to occupy the Strait of Magellan. (4) For Argentina, the capture of the Devonshire was a personal insult to its people and a matter of deep concern. On October 24, 1878, Augusto Ventury protested against the Chilean government before the American minister in Buenos Aires, Osborn, and before the American consul in this city, Baker. Ventury maintained that the Chilean gunboat Magellan had violated international law since it intervened in waters that were under the jurisdiction of the Argentine Republic and had also captured the Devonshire and abandoned the captain on the island of Monte Leon without provisions. Ventury also demanded that the Chilean government reimburse the sum sufficient to cover the costs of the capture and imprisonment of the ship and its crew. Osborn immediately transmitted these protests of the Buenos Aires merchant to the Argentine government and telegraphed them to Santiago. He also informed the commander of the American fleet in the South Atlantic. The protests of the Argentine authorities, together with the insinuation of military reprisals on the part of the Americans, forced the Chilean government to moderate its position. The Chilean foreign minister Alejandro Fierro met with Osborn's representative in Chile, informing him of the Chilean government's willingness to release the Devonshire and her crew in exchange for a promise to abide by the legal action of the courts. But the response of Buenos Aires almost led to war. Not only did it reject the Chilean proposal, but it reaffirmed its claims for compensation from the Chilean government to cover the losses suffered by the capture of the Devonshire. (5)

Fortunately, according to Willett, the moderate reaction of the American ministers in Santiago and Buenos Aires, and the selfless action of Warren Lowe, an American citizen and editor of the prestigious Buenos Aires Herald, prevented war. With the purpose of providing a way out of the delicate situation, Lowe met with the American minister in Buenos Aires and then went to the Chilean capital where he contacted the Argentine consul, Mariano de Sarratea, and the Chilean foreign minister, Alejandro Fierro. According to Willett, Fierro was pleasantly impressed with the arguments presented by Lowe. The editor of the Buenos Aires Herald rejected the idea of ​​a forced settlement, which would only guarantee a war between Argentina and Chile. It was better to arbitrate and avoid war, than to fight and arbitrate later. (6)

Lowe repeatedly suggested to Chilean Foreign Minister Fierro that the Devonshire be released unconditionally and returned to the United States as a preliminary step to deactivate the North American diplomatic pressure on Argentina and the negative influence of Argentine public opinion on its authorities, the latter factor paralyzing any progress in negotiations with Chile. Fierro argued that the real threat of war with Argentina prevented the Chilean government from acting on the valid recommendations of the Herald editor. After several twists and turns, the Chilean Foreign Minister confirmed his government's decision to voluntarily release the Devonshire and return it to the United States. This resolution had a positive impact in official circles in Buenos Aires, and finally, on November 15, 1878, the Chilean Foreign Minister sent a letter to the Governor of Magallanes authorizing the Devonshire to set sail, putting an end to the incident. (7)

The Chilean Navy's official version states: "In 1878, Argentina's systematic advance south of Río Negro in Patagonia nearly caused war between the two nations. The American barge "Devonshire" loaded guano at Monte León Cove under license from Argentine authorities, in Chilean territory. The "Magallanes" under the command of Commander Latorre followed orders from the Chilean government and seized the barge and took it to Punta Arenas. This led to claims from Argentina, which at the time claimed those territories, and tempers flared to the point of breaking off diplomatic relations. Common sense prevailed and an agreement was reached through the Fierro-Sarratea Pact."

Argentinian Squadron

On December 1, 1878, Commodore Luis Py of the Argentine Navy raised the national flag in the place called Cañadón Misioneros at 5 p.m. on that historic day. In itself, it was a simple and quick act, but its implications would endure over time until today.
As we know, there had been a long-standing, not-so-hidden confrontation between Argentina and our Chilean neighbors, regarding the definitive possession of Patagonia, which they claimed as their own. The international conflict was not long in coming and the Minister of War of President Avellaneda, General Julio A. Roca, sent Py in command of a squadron heading to the southern seas to avoid further interference from the trans-Andeans, among whose ships was one that would celebrate future days of glory: the then gunboat and later corvette “Uruguay” (today a museum exhibited in Puerto Madero, City of Buenos Aires). On November 27th he went up the Santa Cruz River and finally, on that first day of December, he reaffirmed Argentine rights over such a vast territory.
It is no coincidence that this sublime heroic act coincided with Roca's military campaign towards the Desert, the objective of which was to definitively end the empire of shameless looting and robbery of the Pampas populations by the Mapuches, who were supported by the Chilean government. Chile could not openly occupy our southern lands because it was engaged in a war against Peru and Bolivia, the so-called "War of the Pacific" and it was not strategically appropriate to open another Theater of Operations and one more enemy.

That is why men like Roca, Py, Piedrabuena, Levalle, Villegas or Vintter must be remembered with respect and with the due historical distance, without absurd anachronisms, nor arm-twisting Clio, the muse of History, because History, like Truth, does not need our lies...

This "disputed" territory is an integral part of the current Argentine Republic.

NOTES

1. Dipl. Desp., (M69), reel 20, T.A. Osborn to Evarts, 30-10-1878, cit. en D. E. Willett, op. cit., p. 72.

2. Dipl. Desp., (M 70), reel 16, Baker to Hunter, 22-10-1878; (M10), reel 29, T.A.O. to Evarts, 25-10-1878, fuentes citadas en ibid., p. 72.

3. R. Burr, op. cit., p. 134, cit. en ibid., p. 73.

4. Osborn to Evarts, Telegram Nº 207, November 18, 1878, U.S. National Archives, Washington D.C., RG 59, citado en G.V. Rauch, op. cit., pp. 63-64.

5. Dipl. Desp. (M 10), reel 29, T.A.O. to Evarts, 7-11-1878, cit. en D.E. Willett, ibid., p. 76.

6. Ibid., p. 78.

7. Dipl. Desp., (M 10), reel 29, T. A.O. to Evarts, 12-11-1878, (M69), reel 20, 12-12-1878; (M 70), reel 16, Baker to Hunter, 21-11-1878, fuentes citadas en ibid., p. 81.

Historia de las RR.EE. Argentinas
ACh
Los senderos de Mnemósine

Leadership of Small Groups in the Malvinas Gravel

Malvinas: Leadership in Small Groups

Marcos Gallacher

Twenty-five years ago, on May 28, 1982, ground combat erupted in the town of Darwin-Goose Green in the Malvinas. Following the defeat of the Argentine garrison there, British forces pressed on toward Puerto Argentino, engaging in battles that ultimately led to the outcome we all know. While much has been written about the Malvinas conflict, many aspects remain unexplored. One such overlooked area is the role and behavior of the officers who led small units during these intense battles.

The significance of leadership in such situations is vividly portrayed in the classic film The Bridge on the River Kwai. In the film, the British prisoner commander, played by Alec Guinness, refuses to let his officers do manual labor alongside the enlisted men. His defiance leads to brutal punishment at the hands of his captors. The commander’s reasoning is simple but profound: if officers take on the duties of common soldiers, the entire military hierarchy crumbles. Without that structure, a combat battalion—even a group of prisoners—becomes nothing more than a disorganized mob.

This reference comes to mind for an important reason: while watching the April 2 commemorative events on television, it was striking to see how this crucial principle of leadership was completely overlooked by the program creators. The broadcasts mixed the valuable testimonies of conscript soldiers who fought in the islands with the opinions of journalists, popular historians, and political commentators. However, the voices of those who were directly responsible for leading these soldiers into battle—the young officers who provided the critical leadership on the ground—were conspicuously absent.

These officers were the ones who ensured that a group of individuals could function as a cohesive combat unit in the heat of battle. Their contributions, vital to the outcome of the conflict, deserve to be recognized and understood as we reflect on this chapter of history.



The ranks of the officers involved in the Malvinas conflict varied widely—from fresh second lieutenants straight out of military college to seasoned majors, lieutenant colonels, and colonels. However, few of these officers were interviewed about their experiences, with one notable exception: Ambassador Balza, who served as a lieutenant colonel during the conflict. His insights, it should be said, are invaluable in truly understanding what transpired.

Professional soldiers, much like doctors, lawyers, or engineers, possess a deep understanding of their field that far surpasses that of the average person. It is these professionals, particularly officers, who are best equipped to analyze the events and draw meaningful lessons from them. These officers are the ones who shape a group of men into an effective combat force, using their training to place everyday experiences into a broader context and learn from them.

The Malvinas conflict is often misunderstood by the general public, in part because much of what people read or see on television comes from observers who were not directly involved in the fighting. Even those who were present as conscript soldiers, while brave and valuable, had a limited perspective on the overall situation. Few people realize, for example, that the casualty rate among officers in ground combat was higher than that of non-commissioned officers and soldiers: 2.5 percent of the officers who participated were killed, compared to 1.7 percent of non-commissioned officers and 1.9 percent of soldiers. This is unusual in military history, where it is generally the enlisted men who bear the brunt of the casualties. But in the Argentine Army during the Malvinas conflict, the opposite was true.

The Malvinas conflict remains a deeply emotional issue for many Argentines, but there are important lessons to be learned. One of these lessons is the critical role of leadership at the small unit level, which was a key factor in the tough resistance our forces offered in several engagements. Argentina, in both its private and public sectors, suffers from a significant leadership deficit. Perhaps by reflecting on the positive examples of leadership from the Malvinas, we can begin to understand the kind of leadership that our country so desperately needs.

Marcos Gallacher is a professor of Business Organization at the University of CEMA.