by Aleida March
I continued in my role as the point of contact, a task I carried out along with Diego Paneque, a member of the provincial leadership and head of action and sabotage. Our compañeros were really like our brothers and sisters so it pains me to recall how some like Diego, whom I saw as a loyal, valiant man who had shown great courage, later found it difficult to adapt to the changes and abandoned the revolution.
We continued our contact with other guerrilla groups active in Corralillo, Santo Domingo, San Diego, La Esperanza and Yaguajay. I visited one of the groups located in San Diego in May. It was there I had my first experience of being bombed by aircraft. I hid under a guásima, a native tree. I can’t describe how terrified I was. We returned to La Esperanza taking extra precautionary measures until we reached Santa Clara.
During the offensive by rebel troops I made other trips. On one of these I saw army tanks heading east to the former province of Oriente. We were in a car transporting arms and provisions. I traveled to Matanzas and Camagüey and I went to Havana for the first time. I remember very little of that trip because I was so focused on the task at hand. That is how we all were: dedicated and focused on what we were doing. Every day the situation became more volatile. The dictatorship was destroying an entire generation of young people. Elections were proposed for November 3, 1958, but this ploy was soundly rejected by the people.
The revolutionary offensive began with the rebels moving down from the mountains, supported by forces in the towns. We knew that victory would not be far off. Having strengthened the foothold in the Sierra Maestra, Fidel ordered the invasion of Oriente in the east, and then a move toward the center of the island, repeating the famed exploits of the mambisa armies during the war of independence against Spain. Camilo Cienfuegos, one of the commanders, was selected to lead this perilous mission to move his troop toward Pinar del Río in the west of the island. Meanwhile, Ernesto Che Guevara (now also a commander) had the responsibility to bring together all the forces active in the Escambray Mountains (central Cuba), uniting all the different guerrilla groups including the Revolutionary Directorate, the Second Front of the Escambray, the Authentic organization and the PSP in Yaguajay. Once a united front had been created, Che was to advance and take the main towns, finally reaching Santa Clara, where the enemy’s communication with the east of the country would be cut off.
Camilo arrived first on the outskirts of Yaguajay, where he made contact with two guerrilla forces formed by the PSP and the July 26 Movement. Once we received word of his arrival, Diego and I went to their camp. This was my first meeting with the legendary commander. We ate a meal with Camilo and Sergio del Valle in a very pleasant atmosphere; Sergio was the doctor of the column and Camilo’s assistant. During this meeting we discussed the best way to move into the southern zone via Aguada. On another occasion I went with Serafín Ruiz de Zárate to establish the necessary support structure for the guerrillas. We stayed in a house where Camilo would often stay and I had to sleep in a bed close to his. I will never forget his nightmares; it seemed as though he was fighting the enemy in his sleep. I found it impossible to sleep that night.
Before the arrival of the commanders Camilo and Che, the situation of the small, isolated guerrilla groups in the center of the island was extremely difficult. I never visited Bordón in Quemados. After the strike of April 9, however, I received an order to bring him to the town of Cienfuegos. He could no longer stay in that area after he had participated in the ambush and execution of Colonel Pedraza’s son, who was an agent of the SIM, one of the regime’s most repressive organizations. I picked up Bordón at the Washington sugar mill near a cane field close to Sagua and Quemados. Bordón showed me Pedraza’s pistol that he had taken from the son. The weapon was dedicated to Trujillo, the dictator from the Dominican Republic. I wouldn’t allow him to keep the gun because of the danger it posed as evidence, so we headed for Cienfuegos unarmed. I left Bordón at a clinic in the care of Digna Sires, Ruiz de Zárate and Osvaldo Dorticós, who took him to the mountains.
I carried out a few other similar missions that year in a very dangerous and tense atmosphere. I was already being watched by Batista’s forces. They had been to my house to conduct searches on a few occasions. I was lucky to escape by pure chance or through the incompetence of the police—maybe it was both. But it was clear that my days in the underground struggle were numbered.
I carried out one of my last tasks as an underground activist after the fraudulent elections in November 1958. I received the order to go to the Escambray Mountains via Sancti Spiritus with the aim of taking funds to the leadership to help finance the guerrilla struggle. My mission also involved taking Dr. Rodríguez de la Vega to Havana where he was working with a section of Batista’s army, which supported the July 26 Movement. We were accompanied, on that occasion, by Marta Lugioyo, Serafín Ruiz de Zárate and Dr. Graciela Piñera, who was going to receive orders and new contacts for actions being planned.
Although this was an important mission, for me it was just another assignment. I knew I would meet the famous commander Che Guevara this time. Che had reached the foothills of the Escambray during October, heading the “Ciro Redondo” Eighth Column, named for the outstanding combatant of the assault on the Moncada barracks, who was killed in combat in the Sierra Maestra. Che was now leading the rebel force invasion of central Cuba. I should not need to stress here that my sole motivation was a desire to complete the task I had been given. I was like any other combatant following orders. I had no expectations beyond that.
Of course, I had heard about the legendary exploits of Ernesto Che Guevara. Stories about him were related almost on a daily basis on the clandestine Radio Rebelde (the rebel radio station). Batista’s government had labeled him a communist. “Wanted” photos of him and Camilo Cienfuegos were posted around the streets of Santa Clara. When I eventually met Che, I realized the photo on those posters looked nothing like him.
My journey climbing up the Escambray was most uncomfortable because, in order to avoid being robbed, I couldn’t tell anyone I was carrying money, which was taped to my torso. As darkness fell, I found it harder and harder to keep up with the others on our hike to Gavilanes, where Che first set up a camp in the liberated zone of Las Villas. On arrival, I met with Dr. Vincente de la O., the doctor who attended to the wounded. I stayed in the little hospital they had set up but could not remove the adhesive tape I had stuck to my body.
In the morning we set off again, this time on horseback, heading to El Pedrero. By nightfall we reached the guerrilla commander’s camp. This was my first close encounter with the much admired troops of the Rebel Army. We were greeted by Oscar Fernández Mell, the doctor of the guerrilla unit, who had come with Che from the Sierra Maestra, as well as Alberto Castellanos, Harry Villegas and others; everyone was trying to get a look at the new faces, especially mine, as I was young and one of the few women to visit—a rare presence in the guerrilla camp. In fact, some of the boldest in the group dared to ask if I was the girlfriend of one of the new arrivals.
Oscarito Fernández Mell showed us around and introduced us to everyone. As was to be expected, Che first met with Rodríguez de la Vega and then Ruiz de Zárate. Ruiz de Zárate had already been in the Escambray until he realized his expertise was not needed there; he then decided to return to his work in the underground struggle in another town.
Finally it was my turn to meet Che. I was standing next to Marta Lugioyo, a lawyer and member of the movement, who had met Che on a previous visit.
After being introduced to the commander, she took me aside and asked me what I had thought of him. I replied somewhat casually that I thought he wasn’t bad, and that I found his penetrating gaze rather intriguing. I saw him as an older man. Marta, on the other hand, commented on his beautiful hands, something I had not noticed at the time, but did later on. After all, we were just two women meeting a rather attractive man.
When I had the opportunity to speak to Che, I told him I had come to deliver a package. The adhesiv
e tape was still giving me terrible pain, and I asked him for help to remove it. So that was our first meeting.
1. After his release from prison in May 1955, Fidel Castro went into exile in Mexico, where he continued to organize the revolutionary July 26 Movement.
2. On November 25, 1956, a group of 82 guerrillas left the Mexican port of Tuxpan in a yacht called the Granma. In order to distract Batista’s forces, Frank País, head of the underground July 26 Movement in the former province of Oriente, organized a general uprising on November 30, the date the expeditionaries were expected to arrive. The plan involved attacks on the headquarters of the National and Maritime Police in Santiago de Cuba in order to obtain arms for the guerrillas and prevent the concentration of the dictatorship’s forces. Unfortunately, this was not successful. Moreover, the landing of the Granma was delayed until December 2.
3. On December 5, 1956, with the help of campesinos from the area, the rebel forces reunited under the leadership of Fidel Castro in the area of Cinco Palmas.
4. See “Alegría del Pío” in Ernesto Che Guevara: Reminiscences of the Cuban Revolutionary War (Ocean Press, 2006).
5. The Revolutionary Directorate (DRE) was one of the revolutionary movements opposed to Batista. It had been founded by student leader José Antonio Echevarría in 1955.
6. See Ernesto Che Guevara: Reminiscences of the Cuban Revolutionary War (Ocean Press, 2006).
7. Haydee Santamaría was one of the two women who participated in the July 26, 1953, armed attack on the Moncada barracks in Santiago de Cuba. She was captured and imprisoned. During the revolutionary war, she fought as a guerrilla in the Sierra Maestra.
8. The People’s Socialist Party (PSP) was the former Cuban communist party.
4
The first thing I did when I met Che was explain why I had come to the guerrillas’ camp. He responded to my request for help in removing the adhesive tape with which the package was strapped to my waist by asking some of his men to assist me. I noticed, in an instant there were quite a few eager volunteers. Of course, I immediately handed over the 50,000 pesos I had brought. Oscar Fernández Mell (the doctor) was chosen to assist me and attend to my wounds. But that was not the end of my embarrassment. I had also torn my trousers when I mounted my horse. So Oscarito gave me a needle and thread to sew up my trousers in order to meet the leader with a bit more dignity.
Later that night, I was shown where I could sleep—a hammock I thought looked wonderful as I was so tired. But I couldn’t sleep. I heard voices, and my curiosity got the better of me. I couldn’t resist getting up to observe Che speaking to a compañero, whom I later learned was Sidroc Ramos. Ramos was a member of Che’s column, but in the darkness I thought he was a Russian, confirming, in my political ignorance, that Che was indeed a communist. At the time, there were many compañeros in our movement with limited political education who held strong prejudices against communism. I was no exception.
I stayed in the camp for three or four days waiting to leave. I was constantly pestered by various guerrillas trying to chat me up. Nevertheless, my memories of this first contact with the Rebel Army are happy. I struck up friendships with some compañeros who have remained dear friends, through good times and bad, throughout all these years. One of them, now General Rogelio Acevedo, I thought looked like a young girl the first time I saw him. He had long, blonde hair that blew in the wind; I remember plaiting his hair. I also met Vaquerito (“Little Cowboy,” Roberto Rodríguez), an amiable and brave young man, who loved to tell stories that made us laugh. There was also Harry Villegas, for whom I have always had a great affection, and many others, who became heroes or martyrs in our struggle.
I felt a bit insecure, having spent so much time as an underground activist. Now, even though I was an experienced combatant, in the mountains I was just another insignificant person expected to follow orders. As it was, I could no longer remain in the city, one of the reasons I had been sent to the Escambray. My new challenge was to become a soldier, at least that was my intention. I planned to propose this to Che when we met to discuss my future.
I met with him one evening and we talked about this. He proposed I stay on in the camp as a nurse. Newcomers were always given a specific task as he didn’t allow anyone to just “float.” I responded bluntly, explaining that I thought my two years of clandestine work gave me the right to be incorporated into the guerrilla unit. He didn’t agree and, as a compromise, said I should return to the city to complete some other important assignments, such as the collection of taxes from the sugar growers.
I went to the nearby town of Placetas, where I was greeted by the co-coordinator of the movement. He suggested I return to the guerrilla camp immediately because a warrant for my arrest had been issued. In my role as the point of contact with the movement leaders in the province, I had information that was extremely sensitive and very useful to the enemy. That was the main reason I returned to the Escambray.
I was in Placetas for about 10 days, waiting for the person who would take me back to Che’s camp. I was impatient, not only because I was staying with people I didn’t know, whom I might be putting at risk, but also because I wanted to join my compañeros in the struggle.
Years later, Che confessed that, at the time, he thought I had been sent by the leadership of the movement in Las Villas (largely made up of right-wing people), to monitor him because of his reputation as a communist. That was why he was reluctant to let me join the guerrilla unit; moreover, he was unaware that I couldn’t return to the city.
After the town of Fomento was captured on December 18, I returned to the mountains. I met with Bordón, who gave me a gun. Someone was sent to retrieve some of my clothes and some toiletries from my home; it was then that I bumped into Fernández Mell and Alberto Castellanos, whom I persuaded to support my decision to stay in the camp. Everyone agreed, except Che.
Che later ordered Olo Pantoja to take me to El Pedrero. I was visibly annoyed and sat in the doorway of one of the local houses, which I later learned was called Manaquitas. After a little while, Ernestina Mazón approached me. She was a nurse, who had gone to the Escambray in October, along with a group of technicians, doctors and other nurses, all members of the July 26 Movement in Santa Clara.
My bad mood was such that I didn’t go to bed that night. Everyone tried to find me a job, but I didn’t want to do any of those offered. To make matters worse, a compañero was annoying me by confessing his romantic interest in me. This made my situation even more difficult and I wanted to escape from this. I could always count on my compañeros, like my friend Ernestina, who knew I had won the right to be integrated as a combatant in the guerrilla troop.
The July 26 Movement announced the formation of a provisional government in Fomento. One day soon after that, Che turned up in El Pedrero at around dawn, and from that moment our common story begins.
I was sitting in the street holding my travel bag on my knees when Che passed by in a jeep and invited me to come along with him “to shoot a few rounds.” Without a second thought, I accepted and jumped into his jeep. And that was it. In a way, I never again got out of that jeep.
In any case, we really never had time to stop and think what might happen. Che was at the wheel and I jumped in beside him, instinctively sitting close to him, seeking his protection. At that time, I saw him as someone much older than I, who would protect me from the advances of other compañeros. There were some incidents, such as the time three men were sitting behind me in the back of the jeep. I should say those three men (Harry Villegas, Alberto Castellanos and Jesus Parra) have remained among my closest friends. One of them—I don’t know who—touched my back as a bit of a joke; I reacted so violently they never attempted to touch me again.
After Che’s spontaneous invitation, there was no time to think about what this might mean on a personal level. I was committed to a cause I was confident would win. There were difficult and memorable moments, and there were also very painful times, but I remained optimistic a
nd confident in the future. In spite of everything, I was blissfully happy at that time.
5
Gradually, as the days passed, I became less in awe of Che’s “reputation,” and instead developed a tremendous admiration and respect for him. He was very intelligent and had an ability to lead others. He exuded a sense of security and confidence that made the troops he led feel supported at all times, even in difficult circumstances. He had no qualms in facing an enemy with vastly superior strength, and besides his incredible courage, the guerrillas could count on a leader with an extraordinary sense of tactics and strategy.
Events developed at hurricane speed. This left little time for reflection beyond the immediate exigencies of the war. We became machines focused almost exclusively on combat. We had the advantage of being led by a man who erased any doubts, inspiring us with his unwavering support and confidence. My admiration for Che transcended even the bounds of my growing romantic attachment to him.
After capturing Fomento, Che proposed we take Cabaiguán. So that is where we headed. From a farm just outside the town, we could see a camp of soldiers. A couple of scouts were sent off to check it out. We then continued our march into the town where we found no soldiers. We stayed in a tobacco factory on the edge of town; in preparing for a battle, we established our headquarters and radio communication base there. Che chose this tense moment to recite a poem to me. This was one of the most beautiful ways he knew to express himself.
I was standing in the doorway of the factory and suddenly, from behind, Che started to recite a poem I didn’t know. Because I was chatting with others at the time, this was his way of attracting my attention. I suspected he wanted me to notice him, not as a leader or my superior but as a man. The more time we spent together, I could feel the sparks between us.