Peter von Bleichert
Crown Jeweclass="underline" The Battle for the Falklands
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thanks to my teachers: Jonathan E.; Bruce H.; Paul M.; Karen S.; and, Panayiotis Z.
And, a special thanks to: Robert N. (UK); and, Victor N. (USA).
DEDICATION
Michael Muxie, III (in memoriam).
And, to those lost on both sides of the real Falklands War: ‘Sleep well you Bonnie Lads.’
CHARACTERS
Doctor Waldemar Amsel
Mayor (Major) Ezequiel Vargas
…and, Presidente de la Nación (President) Valeria Alonso; Almirante (Admiral) Javier Correa; Ministro de Defensa (Minister of Defense) Juan Cruz Gomez; & Capitán (Captain) Lucas Moreno.
Lieutenant Donnan Bruce
Major Scott Fagan
Aethelinda Jones
Anne Jones
Governor Roger Moody
His Royal Highness Prince Albert Richard George James Talbot of York
…and, the lads of 22 SAS Regiment, Squadron D, Air Troop; His Majesty King Edward IX; Eight-ball; Grey Bear; Henry Jones; Admiral Sir Reginald Nemeth; & the ‘Warrahs’ (Calvert, Fairbairn, Gubbins, McGregor, and Sykes).
Commander Max Wolff
…and, SEAL Team 5.
NOTES
A British Overseas Territory, the Falkland Islands are a stark, wind-ripped South Atlantic archipelago some 400 miles east of Argentina’s Patagonian coast, and 850 miles north of the Antarctic Circle. Comprising East Falkland, West Falkland, and 778 smaller islands, the Falkland Islands are roughly the size of the American State of Connecticut — about half the size of the country of Wales — and the capital is in the port city of Stanley on East Falkland. Falklanders are primarily of British, Chilean, and St. Helenian descent.
BRIEFING
The Argentine Republic claims sovereignty over the Falkland Islands.
Called Las Islas Malvinas by Argentinians, the archipelago is viewed as part of the South Atlantic Department of the Province of Tierra del Fuego.
The United Kingdom has never recognized this claim.
Although Falklanders have expressed a clear preference to remain under British rule, in hopes of easing tensions, during the 1960s, London engaged in talks with Argentine foreign missions. The talks, however, failed to reach any meaningful conclusion.
In the early 1980s, a ruthless dictatorship ruled Argentina. Accordingly, it suffered a crippling economic crisis. In an attempt to distract and unify its restive populace, Argentina initiated Operation Rosario on April 2, 1982, and invaded the Falklands.
Argentine forces outnumbered the British garrison 10-to-one. Resistance was rapidly subdued, and within hours, Argentine forces occupied Government House in Stanley — the Falklands’ capital — and flew their flag over this symbol of British hegemony.
British Prime Minister Thatcher — dubbed the ‘Iron Lady’ by the Soviets — immediately denounced the invasion. She roused her military, organized and commenced Operation Corporate, and dispatched a Task Group to retake the islands.
After fierce air and naval battles, British forces landed on East Falkland. By mid-June of 1982, British marines and soldiers held the high ground around the capital city. Soon thereafter, the routed Argentine occupation forces surrendered.
Despite this clear-cut defeat, Argentina has continued to claim the South Atlantic archipelago as her own. In 1994, the Transitional Provisions of the Constitution of the Argentinian Nation were amended, thereby alleging ‘legitimate and everlasting sovereignty’ over Las Islas Malvinas, South Georgia, and the Sandwich Islands, as well as the corresponding maritime and insular areas.
With this legislation, the capture of said territories became a permanent and unswayable objective of the Argentine people…
PROLOGUE: CABAL
"Wars are caused by undefended wealth."
Buenos Aires — Argentina’s capital — grew up on the western shore of the estuary of the Río de la Plata. Sexy and alive, it bustled with nightlife. Its cityscape glowed restlessly in the dark, moonless night. People strolled in waterfront parks and among the eclectic mix of buildings.
They ambled along the city’s wide avenues where traffic honked like impatient flocks of migrating geese, and scooters weaved in and out, buzzing like angry insects. Expansive plazas — cobblestone fields filled with fountains, statutes, trees, and vendors — allowed an escape from the jostling clamor. One of these urban oases was called Plaza de Mayo.
Named for the month of revolution, Plaza de Mayo honored the war that had brought independence from Spain. Ironically, this war of freedom had also brought shackles to Argentina’s people as it concluded with the installation of the nation’s first military government: La Junta.
On the plaza’s eastern edge sat a baby pink palatial mansion, home to the President of Argentina. La Casa Rosada, as the home had been named, featured a North Hall where tall, arched windows let the light of day flood in, but could stop all else, including bullets. The President of Argentina walked within this hall. Her name: Valeria Alonso. As president and commander-in-chief of the nation’s armed forces, she presided over the gathered nation’s Military Council. Her high-heels clicked on the stone floor as she stalked along the long, rectangular table, lecturing those assembled in the stuffy, bright room.
Those assembled there included Minister of Defense Juan Cruz Gomez, and Admiral Javier Correa, among others. President Alonso tossed her hair back as she spoke, intimidatingly locking eyes with each of her subordinates. Her piercing eyes were dark brown, just like her long hair; both features gifts from her mother. However, those eyes also flashed with her father’s keen intellect.
Her father, Doctor Waldemar Amsel, sat in his office — a concrete bunker far below the streets of Buenos Aires— watching his daughter on a video screen.
Dr. Amsel was once known as SS Obersturmführer Amsel of Occupied Poland’s Sobibor extermination camp, a place where the crematorium ovens stayed busy and ash fell with the winter snow, tinting the ground a sickly grey. In the waning days of World War II, while the vengeful Russians were closing in on his death camp, he and the other officers had commandeered a supply truck, taking it skidding along Polish back roads with the ‘Reds’ on their heels all the while.
A droning engine then announced the arrival of marauding aircraft, and, as they raced through woods and along snow-covered fields, a Stormovik found them, dove hard, and strafed their vehicle. The bullets ripped through the canvas roof of the old Mercedes, and then into Amsel’s legs. With Amsel bleeding heavily and barely conscious, his loyal cadre took him to a doctor in Genoa, and, after a week lying bandaged in bed, he and his cohorts received Red Cross passports.
Amsel was wheeled to the harbor and put aboard the transport ship Dodero. This rusting tramp was a cog in the intricate machinery of the ‘Ratline,’ the network that delivered fleeing Nazis to South America and other points around the globe. That rainy day at the Genovese docks, Dodero set sail for Buenos Aires.
Amsel then healed during the long, slow voyage. When they arrived on the South American coast, he was met by Argentina’s Rodolfo Freude, an advisor to Juan Domingo Peron.