"The bravest of the Malvinas", by Alfredo Leuco

April 2, 2019

The new editorial of Alfredo Leuco for "I give my word".

The greatest hero among the soldiers of the Falklands War is Oscar Ismael Poltronieri. Painfully, I think that Argentineans in general and young people in particular know by heart the training of almost all their football teams, but they do not know Poltro. This is an outstanding issue that we all have. It's an insult to the best and most tragic of our history. The country that does not know and does not recognize her heroes has a black hole in her memory and in her collective heart.

That's why I do not get tired of repeating the story of the soldier Oscar Ismael Poltronieri again and again. He has many medals on the chest and the most important decoration granted by the country: "The Cross with heroic courage in battle". Nobody has as many distinctions as Poltro, as his comrades knew, who saved their lives and allowed them to escape, while keeping an entire English battalion for nine hours, alone, with a heavy machine gun. I only think about it, I say it and I write it and my body shivers. I did the colimba, I am a gunner and a paratrooper and I know what weighs a MAG: ten kilos. It's dry, freshly polished and the holder is fresh and rested.

Poltro jumped from one hole and one stone to the other with his MAG as it was a broom. In the middle of the gel that breaks the bones, absolutely muddy and hungry, without support, with hunger and tears in the eyes. It was that his trench partner, Private Horisberger, had stayed to support him and provide him with projectiles. In an instant, a sacred bullet from the enemy pierced his helmet and his head. Blood mixed with the average, unredeemed land of the Malvinas. They defended Mount Dos Hermanas so that their regiment could reach their destination safely.

Poltro looked at his beloved companion, gritted his teeth, hung himself on the trigger and shouted "son of a bitch, killed him", continued to shoot until he He is running out of ammo. Private Horisberger was not a companion to the colimba. It was he who wrote the letters to María Ester, Poltro's mother, who did the housework with other people and who has nine other children. It is that Poltronieri, the heroic soldier, could neither read nor write.

The English could not believe it. They threw bombs from the ships, grenades with the infantry, tracer bullets illuminated the dawn of terror, everyone escaped from the battlefield because he had ordered the withdrawal, but a single soldier, with unparalleled courage, resisted the most trained troops in the world. I had them at bay. He fired a gust and ran into another cavity filled with ice water, blood and urine and blushed again. The enemies themselves confessed that they thought it was a large group of command soldiers. It was only Poltro and for this reason he also received all the admiration of the English troops.

He had been left alone by his own decision. "Get out of here my sergeant, go with the soldiers, but I do not have children, you just became a father and your son will need it." He convinced the sergeant Tito Echeverría. Poltro did not know how to read or write, but he knew the truth of life: solidarity, camaraderie, courage, sensitivity. The great journalist Gabriela Cocciffi, Editor-in-Chief of Infobae, who has contributed so much to restoring the identity of the soldiers buried in Darwin's cemetery, said that Poltro sent them to hell when his superiors and his companions tried to to convince him. that he also fled:

We have to withdraw, Poltro, it's an order …

Get out of here, I cover you. Do not delay.

He had decided to give his life for his country and for his companions in the Mercedes regiment. He had seen many die cruelly. One of them saw his knee coming out of an explosive that exploded alongside him. They gave him a tourniquet among several but he also died bleeding. Is there anything more terrible? Poltro will never forget the cries and screams of this companion. Of course, he asked his mother.

His companions adored Poltro. Not just because he had eggs the size of the island. He was also responsible for catching the sheep and slaughtering them so that everyone could fight against hunger, another of his fierce enemies. Poltro is the son of a wholesaler who abandoned them. But in the area of ​​estancia, Santa Catalina learned to milk cows, ride horses and slaughter lambs. Poltronieri could not even say goodbye to his mother when they sent him to Malvinas as part of the third section of the Mercedes RI 6 B company.
When Poltro missed projectiles, he buried the machine gun as told in the manual, so the enemy did not use it, and ran with the last breath he had left. He fell ten times. And a hundred pink. He had to avoid the dynamite falling from the sky.

When finally arrived, exhausted, he entered a crisis of tears. He saw what he would never have wanted to see. The white flag of surrender floating on his fellow prisoners. Nobody had warned them. Maybe it was not like that. I had an unstoppable anger. He continued to fight like so many others five hours after the surrender. Everyone kissed Poltronieri. And they thanked him for his courage. Thanks to their incomparable courage, they were able to survive.

When they arrived at night and almost clandestinely in Campo de Mayo, another war broke out between Poltro and all the veterans. They treated them as criminals. The military hid them and forbade them to tell what they had seen and what they had suffered. And most civilians have also turned their backs on them. Poltro had to start from scratch to fight for his life in the cities and in misery. He sold stamps and tracks on the trains in his olive green uniform. Some son of a bitch shouted: "Fool of war, will sell stamps to Galtieri." It is no coincidence that 649 Argentines lost their lives during the war and a similar number of deaths during peace, to suicide in the face of the madness caused by the mixture of terror of war and social indifference.

While Poltro was at 9 am braking the British, the war bureaucrats gave him for dead. And they warned his mother. When the most decorated soldier arrived at the sanatorium where his mother was hospitalized with a nervous breakdown and a tear of the advertisement, they did not let him in. It was like trying to stop an elephant. "It's my old, damn, it's wrong because it thinks that they've killed me and that I'm alive." "They do not leave me not to enter, I break everything. "

This hug in intensive therapy was huge. The bodies, the faces, the hands, the tears, all entangled between the mother and the son. Maria Esther has recovered. He saw his son alive and came back to life.

Once, it was the genius of Juan Carlos Mareco who took note on the television and who found him a job. At this point, Poltro already had a wife and four children to support. At one point he was about to sell those medals that were so proud of him but did not help him live with the dignity of a trade and a salary. Nobody wanted veterans.

A night of unmet basic needs, images of exploding fires and bullets hitting the bodies of his companions became a nightmare. He felt that he was back in that icy, miserable peal with his machine gun. But the problems continued. He ran a rope around his neck and, while he was about to hang himself, his eldest son screamed and took him in his arms. He was lying on the floor for a long time, crying helplessly. What was the most invincible enemy? The English have bullets. For most Argentines, no.

Another note, but Clarín, made the head of state, Eduardo Duhalde received it. At the time, Boca's president, Mauricio Macri, invited him and his family to realize his dream of knowing the Bombonera. It was one of the happiest days of his life, between panchos, cokes and shirts signed by the players.

Today, he works in Campo de Mayo, he filmed a film about his life, a small street and a monolith on a Mercedes square bearing his name, People magazine led him to Europe where he met another English veteran being almost brother of life.

Alejandro Lerner managed to speak for all of us when he wrote: "The Island of Good Memory". He made us better understand that there is no war to win, that wars are all lost: "Mother, I go to the island, I do not know who to fight, maybe I fight or that I resist, or maybe I die there / What am I going to do with my uniform when I start fighting, / with my helmet and boots, I do not even know how to go. "

The last thing Poltro did for his old Malou comrades, he knelt before the virgin and the crosses of the tombs: he asked him never to forget those who remained in the islands. And to all the mothers of fallen soldiers in Malvinas, Poltronieri told them Mami. It was a promise. He wants everyone to consider him a son. The most decorated. The most courageous The hero of the Malvinas.

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