The Bolivian Diary

by Неизвестный

  Altitude = 1,760 meters reached; we slept at 1,730.

  May 3

  After a day of continuous slashing, which made it possible to walk for just over two hours, we reached a creek with plenty of water that seems to be flowing north. Tomorrow we will investigate to see if it changes direction, and at the same time we will continue clearing the way. We have enough food for only two days and it is rather skimpy. We are at 1,080 meters, 200 above the Ñacahuazú. In the distance is the sound of a motor, but we cannot identify which direction it comes from.

  May 4

  In the morning, the hike continued, while Coco and Aniceto scouted the creek. They returned around 13:00, confirming that the creek turns toward the southeast, so it is probably the Iquira. I gave the order to find the macheteros and to continue walking downstream. We set off at 13:30, and at 17:00 we stopped, certain that the creek’s general direction was east-northeast, so it cannot be the Iquira unless it changes course. The macheteros reported that they had not found water and that they saw only ridges; it was decided to continue, under the impression that we were heading to the Río Grande. We caught a single cacaré1 that was shared among the macheteros, given its small size; we have only light rations for two days.

  The radio broadcast the news that Loro had been arrested and had a wounded leg; his statements have been good up to now. All signs indicate that he was not wounded at the house, but somewhere else, probably trying to escape.

  Altitude = 980 meters.

  May 5

  We walked for a good five hours, about 12 to 14 kilometers, to the camp Inti and Benigno had set up. We are at the Congrí Creek, which is not on the map, and much farther north than we had thought. This raises many questions: Where is the Iquira? Is this where Benigno and Aniceto were surprised? Could their attackers have been Joaquín’s people? For the moment we are considering heading to Oso Camp, where there should be breakfast for two days, and from there to the old camp. Two large birds and a cacaré were killed today, so we can save some food. We still have rations for two days: packets of soup and canned meat. Inti, Coco, and El Médico are setting up hunting hide. There is news that Debray will face a military tribunal in Camiri as the supposed chief and organizer of the guerrillas; his mother arrives tomorrow and there is quite a ruckus about the matter. Nothing of Loro.

  Altitude = 840 meters.

  May 6

  Our estimated arrival at Oso Camp turned out to be wrong because the distance to the little house from the creek was farther than we thought and the way was impassable, so we had to clear the trail. We reached the little house at 16:30 after passing through altitudes of 1,400 meters with the troops tired of walking. Our next to last meal was eaten, a meager one; only a partridge was caught and given to the machetero (Benigno) and to the two behind him on the march.

  The news is focused on Debray’s case.

  Altitude = 1,100 meters.

  May 7

  We arrived early at Oso Camp, and there were eight cans of milk waiting for us, which made a fortifying breakfast. Some things were retrieved from the nearby cave, including a Mauser for Ñato, who will handle our bazooka with its five antitank missiles. He is feeling sick after a bout of vomiting. We had scarcely arrived at the camp when Benigno, Urbano, León, Aniceto, and Pablito left to scout the little farm. We ate the last of our soup and meat, but we have a provision of lard that was in the cave. There are footprints and other small signs that show soldiers have been here. At dawn, the explorers returned empty handed; the soldiers are at the farm and they have cut down the corn. (Today marks the six-month anniversary of the official establishment of the guerrilla force, upon my arrival.)

  Altitude = 880 meters.

  May 8

  From early in the morning I insisted that we organize the cave, retrieve the other can of lard, and refill the bottles, because that is all we have left to eat. At about 10:30, a few isolated shots were heard coming from the ambush site; two unarmed soldiers had come up the Ñacahuazú. Thinking it was an advance party, Pacho wounded one in the leg and the other superficially in the stomach. He said he had fired because they had not stopped at his command, but they, of course, had heard nothing.

  The ambush was poorly coordinated and Pacho’s actions were not good; he was very nervous. The situation was improved by sending Antonio and some others to the right side. The soldiers stated they were based near the Iquira, but in reality they were lying. At 12:00, two soldiers were captured as they came rushing down the Ñacahuazú, saying they were in a hurry because they had gone hunting and were following the Iquira to get back, when they discovered that their company had disappeared, so they went to find them; they were lying too. In fact, they are camped at the hunting field and they went off to look for food at our farm because the helicopter had not come to bring them supplies. The two we had captured were loaded with toasted and raw corn, four cans of onions, plus sugar and coffee, so today’s problem was resolved, with the help of the lard, and we all ate great quantities, making some people sick.

  Later, the sentries reported that the soldiers were continually scouting the area, going back and forth to the edge of river. Everyone was tense until the soldiers arrived, apparently 27 of them. They had noticed something unusual and the group advanced under the command of Second Lieutenant Laredo,2 who opened fire and fell dead on the spot, along with two recruits. Night had already fallen and our troops advanced, capturing six soldiers; the rest retreated.

  The total result rashly speaking is three dead and 10 prisoners, two of them wounded; seven M-1s and four Mausers, personal gear, ammunition, and some food we consumed with the lard to mitigate our hunger. We slept there.

  May 9

  We got up at 4:00 (I never slept) and set the soldiers free, after giving them a lecture. We took their shoes, exchanged clothes with them, and sent the liars off in their underwear. They went toward the little farm, carrying their wounded. By 6:30 we completed our withdrawal toward Monos [Monkey] Creek along the path to the cave where we stored the captured goods.

  The only food we have left is lard; I felt faint and had to sleep two hours to be able to continue at even this slow and hesitant pace; in general, the march has been that way. We ate soup made from the lard at the first water hole. The troops are sick and now many have edema. At night, the army reported on the action, naming its dead and wounded, but not its prisoners, and announcing major battles with heavy losses on our side.

  May 10

  We continued our slow progress. On arrival at the camp where Rubio’s grave is, we found some charqui that we had left in a bad state, along with some fat; we gathered everything; there were no signs of soldiers. We took precautions crossing the Ñacahuazú and began the trek to Pirirenda through a ravine that Miguel had scouted, but the path had not been finished. We stopped at 17:00 and ate pieces of charqui and some fat.

  May 11

  The vanguard started out first; I stayed listening to the news. Urbano came in a while to tell me that Benigno had killed a peccary and wanted permission to start a fire and skin it; we decided to stay and eat the animal while Benigno, Urbano, and Miguel continued clearing the trail to the lagoon. At 14:00, we began the march again, setting up camp at 18:00. Miguel and the others went on ahead.

  I need to speak seriously with Benigno and Urbano because the former ate a can of food the day of the battle and then denied it, and Urbano ate some of the charqui at Rubio’s camp.

  The news report stated that Colonel Roche,3 head of the Fourth Division, which operates in this zone, will be relieved.

  Altitude = 1,050 meters.

  May 12

  We went along slowly. Urbano and Benigno cleared the way. By 15:00, we could see the lagoon about five kilometers away and a little later we found an old trail. After an hour, we came across a giant cornfield with pumpkins, but there was no water. We prepared roasted and salted jocos with lard and corn kernels; we also made toasted corn. The scouts arrived with the news that they had stumbled across the house of
Chicho,4 the same one as last time. He is mentioned as a good friend in Lt. Henry Laredo’s diary; he was not at home, but four farmhands were there along with a servant, whose husband came looking for her and was detained. We cooked a huge pig with rice and fritters, along with pumpkin. Pombo, Arturo, Willy, and Darío kept guard over the backpacks. The bad part is that we could not find water around the house.

  We withdrew at 5:30 at a slow speed, with almost everyone sick. The owner of the house had still not shown up and we left him a note listing the damages and expenses; we paid $10 to each farmhand and the servant for their work.

  Altitude = 950 meters.

  May 13

  A day of burps, farts, vomiting, and diarrhea—a real concert from our organs. We remained completely immobile trying to digest the pig. We have two cans of water. I was feeling very bad until I vomited and then felt better. At night, we ate corn fritters and roast pumpkin, plus all the leftovers from the feast the day before—those who were in a condition to eat. All the radio stations are constantly covering news that some Cubans landing in Venezuela were intercepted. The Leoni5 government presented two of the men with their names and ranks; I do not know them, but everything suggests that something has gone wrong.

  May 14

  We left early, with little enthusiasm, aiming to reach the lagoon at Pirirenda by a track that Benigno and Camba had found while exploring. Before setting out, I brought everyone together and gave them a blast about some problems we face, mainly concerning food; I criticized Benigno for eating a can of food and denying it, Urbano for eating some charqui on the sly, and Aniceto for his eagerness to assist in everything to do with food and his reluctance to do anything else. During the meeting we heard sounds of trucks approaching. We stashed about 50 jocos and two quintals [200 pounds] of corn kernels for future use in a hiding place nearby.

  When we were off the path, busy gathering beans, we heard explosions nearby and shortly we saw aircraft “ferociously bombing us,” about two or three kilometers from our position. We continued down a hill and saw a lagoon, while the soldiers kept up their fire. At nightfall, we came to a recently abandoned house that was very well stocked and had water. We ate a delicious chicken fricassee with rice and stayed there until 4:00.

  May 15

  An uneventful day.

  May 16

  Just as we started out, I came down with intense abdominal pain, with vomiting and diarrhea. I got it under control with Demerol, but lost consciousness and had to be carried in a hammock. When I awoke I felt much better, but I was covered in shit like a newborn baby. I borrowed a pair of pants, but without water, the stench could be smelled for a league away. We spent the whole day there, with me dozing. Coco and Ñato scouted the area and found a path that runs due north. We followed it at night while the moon was out and then rested. We received Message No. 36, which illustrated just how completely isolated we are.

  May 17

  We continued the march until 13:00, when we came to a sawmill that seemed to have been abandoned for three days. There was sugar, corn, lard, flour, and water in barrels, all of which seem to have been transported some distance. We set up camp here, while scouting expeditions were conducted along the paths that lead to the woods. Raúl has an abscess on his knee and cannot walk because of the intense pain; he was given a strong antibiotic and tomorrow it will have to be lanced. We walked some 15 kilometers.

  Altitude = 920 meters.

  May 18

  Roberto and Juan Martín.6

  We spent all day in ambush, in case workers or soldiers came by, but nothing happened. Miguel left with Pablito and found water about two hours from the camp, using an intersecting path. Raúl’s abscess was lanced and 50cc of purulent liquid was drained; he was given a general treatment to fight infection; he can barely take a step. I performed my first tooth extraction for this guerrilla campaign; the fortunate victim: Camba—everything went well. We ate bread baked in a little oven and at night had an incredible stew that filled me to bursting.

  May 19

  The vanguard set off early to occupy ambush positions at the crossroads; we left afterwards, replacing a section of the vanguard while they returned to get Raúl and carry him to the crossroads. The other part of the center group continued on to the water hole to leave their backpacks and then return to get Raúl, who is slowly recovering. Antonio scouted a little downstream and found a camp abandoned by the soldiers where there were also some leftover dry rations. The Ñacahuazú cannot be too far away and I estimate that we should come out below the Congrí Creek. It rained all night, surprising the experts.

  We have food for 10 days and in the immediate area there are pumpkins and corn.

  Altitude = 780 meters.

  May 20

  Camilo.7

  A day without moving. In the morning the center group set up the ambush and was relieved by the vanguard in the afternoon; Pombo was in charge the whole time, but expressed his view that the site chosen by Miguel is very poor. Miguel explored downstream, finding the Ñacahuazú to be a two-hour walk away, without backpacks. A shot was clearly heard, but we do not know who fired it; on the banks of the Ñacahuazú there are signs of another military camp with a couple of platoons. There was an incident with Luis who was complaining too much and he was excluded from the ambush as a form of punishment, but he seems to have taken it well.

  At a press conference, Barrientos rejected Debray’s status as a journalist and announced that he would ask Congress to reinstate the death penalty. Almost all the journalists, and all the foreigners, asked him about Debray; he defended himself extremely inarticulately. He is the most incompetent person imaginable.

  May 21

  Sunday. No movement. We are maintaining the ambush, replacing 10 men with 10 others at noon. Raúl is slowly improving; his abscess was lanced again and another 40cc of purulent liquid was drained. He no longer has a fever, but he is in pain and can barely walk; he is my current concern. At night, we ate sumptuously: stew, corn flour, shredded charqui, and pumpkin topped with mote.

  May 22

  As expected, at noon the supervisor of the sawmill, Guzmán Robles,8 showed up with a driver and his son in a beat-up jeep. At first we thought it was an army maneuver to see what was happening, but he opened up to us and agreed to go to Gutiérrez at night, leaving his son9 as a hostage; he should be back tomorrow. The vanguard will stay in ambush position overnight and tomorrow we will wait until 15:00. After that, it will be necessary to withdraw because the situation could get dangerous. The man gives me the impression that he will not betray us, but we cannot be sure he will be able to buy things for us without raising suspicion. We paid him for everything we had consumed at the mill. He informed us of the situation in Tatarenda, Limón, and Ipitá—no soldiers are in these places, except for a lieutenant at Ipitá. He had not been to Tatarenda, but told us what he had heard.

  May 23

  A day of tension. The supervisor did not come back all day, and although there was no activity, we decided to withdraw at night with the hostage, a big 17-year-old lad. We walked an hour on the trail in the moonlight, sleeping on the road. We left with enough food for about 10 days.

  May 24

  In two hours we made it to the Ñacahuazú, which was clear of soldiers. After another four-hour hike downstream, we came out at the Congrí Creek. We walked slowly to match Ricardo’s sluggish pace, and Moro’s as well. We reached the camp that we had used the first day hiking on our first expedition. We left no tracks, nor did we see any recent ones. The radio broadcast the news that the habeas corpus petition for Debray had been denied. I estimate that we are one or two hours from the Saladillo; when we get to the summit, we will decide what to do.

  May 25

  In an hour and a half we made it to the Saladillo, without leaving any tracks. We followed the creek for about two hours until reaching its source. We ate there and continued on at 15:30, walking for a few more hours until 18:00, when we made camp at 1,100 meters, still not having reac
hed the top of the ridge. According to the boy, we are a few leagues away from his grandfather’s chaco;10 according to Benigno, it is also a full day’s hike to Vargas’s house by the Río Grande. Tomorrow we will decide where to go.

  May 26

  After two hours of walking, passing the peak at 1,200 meters, we arrived at the farm belonging to the boy’s great-uncle.11 Two farmhands were working there and had to be apprehended when they came in our direction; they turned out to be brothers-in-law of the old man, who is married to a sister of theirs. They are 16 and 20 years old. They informed us that the boy’s father had purchased the food but he was detained and confessed everything. There are 30 soldiers in Ipitá patrolling the village. We ate fried pork with pumpkin and lard stew, but there was no water in the area and it has to be transported from Ipitá in barrels. At night we headed for the farm that belongs to the boys, eight kilometers away, four toward Ipitá and four to the west. We arrived at dawn.

  Altitude = 1,100 meters.

  May 27

  A day of idleness and a little despair: Of all the promised wonders, there was only a bit of old sugar cane and the sugar mill was useless. As expected, the old man who owned the farm showed up at noon with his cart full of water for the pigs; he saw something strange on his way past where the rear guard was in ambush position and was apprehended along with a farmhand; they were held until 18:00, when we released them together with the youngest of the brothers; they were instructed to stay there until Monday and to say nothing.