March 25 is the national day of remembrance in Argentina, the 32nd anniversary of a coup d'etat that led to seven years of brutality.
But after more than three decades, bringing those who committed the horrors to justice remains a slow process and one which some Argentines are less than enthusiastic about.
There were marches in towns across Argentina in the days leading up to the national day of remembrance, which is supposed to remind Argentines of the horrors committed in their name during the brutal dictatorship that lasted from 1976 through to 1983.
It is estimated that the regime murdered some 30,000 during the so-called 'dirty war'.
Politicians, union leaders and human rights advocates all exhorted the Argentinians to remember the victims.
"This memorial indicates a search to preserve, build and strengthen remembrance," Human Rights Minister Eduardo Duhalde told one crowd.
In Avenida Libertador, one of Buenos Aires' busiest streets, is a military base and marine mechanics school (ESMA) with a dark past.
ESMA has just been turned into a museum to remind Argentines that this was the heart of the terror machine during the seven-year dictatorship. It is estimated that 5,000 people were kidnapped and taken here.
Enrique Fukman is a former detainee who made it out alive, but fewer than 100 of those 5,000 did.
"Behind these doors, going down the stairs there is a basement. The basement contained the torture rooms," he said.
The lost children
There is another, lesser-known part of the horror. Hundreds of the detainees were pregnant women. The mothers were murdered but the babies were handed over to military families and friends and given forged birth certificates. They were lied to about their real parents.
Maria Sampallo was one of those children and has brought criminal charges against her purported parents, accusing them of kidnapping.
Her lawyer, Tomas Quintana, says that Ms Sampallo does not know where she was born and in what condition her mother gave birth.
"Her mother, Mirta, and father, Leonardo, were political activists in Argentina during the 70s and they were kidnapped by the military," he said.
Ms Sampallo would not speak on camera.
The cases of these stolen children have become the heart of how Argentines now remember those horrors.
The cases against the former generals simply do not arouse much interest these days.
CELS is a documentation centre that keeps the myriad documents and testimonies that track what happened during the 'dirty war'.
The founders wanted to make sure the people are remembered.
"The stories are sad but there are also family members still living, and they are victims as well and are working towards the future," CELS archivist Valeria Barbuto said.
"The demand of justice and memory are positive."
The Argentine Supreme Court threw out an amnesty law two years ago and prosecutions have begun again.
Since then, more than 300 cases have been started but there have been only 14 convictions.
"I consider that we started the process of justice and we are more near, but it's not enough," CELS lawyer Carolina Varsky said.
The new government of President Cristina Kirchner seems eager to see prosecutions proceed.
The judiciary's attitude has been described as half-hearted. Things are moving very slowly and public support remains lukewarm.
After all, people here still refer to the 30,000 murdered as "the disappeared", as if they would rather not think of them as dead.
In Rio de la Plata, an enormous estuary, many of the so-called disappeared ended up.
Detainees were drugged to the point of unconsciousness, then flown out over the estuary and dumped in to be eaten by the sharks.
Just like those bodies, many in today's Argentina would prefer the questions about the last military dictatorship just went away.
http://www.abc.net.au/news/stories/2008/03/26/2199587.htm?section=world