I was a child then (maybe 2nd grade?). But I got the suspicion that this was at least from the Argentinian side, an egomaniac president trying to rally the people behind him.

They sent recruits. The officers were in bunkers while the soldiers were outside in barricades between April and June a few thousand km from the South Pole (winter time). There were stories of recruits surrendering to the English because they were treated better as prisoners of war.

I think the Argentinian people had a hard time accepting our leaders sent our children to die.

But again, a year later the military government went down.

Maradona signified the ideal the Argentinian aspired to. To succeed abroad. The Argentinian usually looks outside not inside the country.

Buenos Aires seems to have its sights fixated in Europe, not the provinces.

I mean, look at me in the US.

In 2016 when Trump won, I did go to NZ to scout the country and get a feeling (I loved it, but Auckland’s housing is super expensive, and I don’t know what is your idea of moving again, but it feels that this kind of adventures are to be done only once)

Anyway, all this to say that maybe Diego’s life echoes mine in the sense of seeking validation from the outside.

And the other author’s story, Espindola, was pure heart.

And at the end of the day, the land keeps pulling. Even when silently and softly.

Thank you for reading and commenting, Reuben. Sorry for the rambling.

Pablo