by Неизвестный
August 9
Altitude = 780 meters.
The eight scouts set out in the morning. The macheteros Miguel, Urbano, and León progressed another 50 minutes beyond the campsite. An abscess on my heel was lanced, allowing me to put weight on my foot, but it is still very painful and I am running a fever.
Pacho is fine.
August 10
Antonio and Chapaco left to go hunting behind our site and caught a urina (or guaso) and a turkey hen; they checked out the first camp, where nothing new had happened, and brought back a load of oranges. I ate two and immediately had an asthma attack, but only a mild one. At 13:30 Camba, one of the eight, came back with the following news: Yesterday they slept without water and today they carried on until 9:00 without finding any. Benigno recognized the place and will head for the Rosita to get water; Pablo and Darío will return if they find water.
Fidel made a long speech in which he attacks the traditional parties, especially, the Venezuelan party; it appears there was a big behind-the-scenes row. My foot was treated again. I am getting better, but I am not well yet. Nevertheless, tomorrow we must move our base closer to the macheteros, who only cleared 35 minutes of the trail during the day.
August 11
The slashers are advancing very slowly. Pablo and Darío arrived at 16:00 with a note from Benigno, who says he is close to the Rosita and estimates it is three more days to Vargas’s house. At 8:15 Pablito left the water hole where they had spent the night and at about 15:00, ran into Miguel, which means there is a lot farther to go. Turkey seems to be bad for my asthma and I gave my small portion to Pacho. We moved our camp to a new creek that dries up at noon and starts running again at midnight. It rained, but was not cold; there are lots of mariguís.
Altitude = 740 meters.
August 12
A dreary day. The macheteros made little progress. There was nothing new and not much food; tomorrow we will slaughter another horse, which should last us six days. My asthma has remained at a manageable level. Barrientos announced the twilight of the guerrilla force and renewed his threat of an intervention in Cuba; he was just as stupid as always.
The radio announced a battle near Monteagudo with the result of one dead on our side: Antonio Fernández from Tarata. This is similar to the real name of Pedro from Tarata.
August 13
Miguel, Urbano, León, and Camba went off to camp by the water hole that Benigno had discovered, and they will proceed from there. They took food for three days, that is, pieces of Pacho’s horse, which was slaughtered today. There are four animals left and everything suggests we will have to sacrifice another one before finding more food. If everything has gone well, Coco and Aniceto should be back tomorrow. Arturo caught two turkeys, which were allotted to me, as there is hardly any corn left. Chapaco is showing increasing signs of becoming unstable, Pacho is recovering at a good rate, and my asthma has been getting worse since yesterday; I am now taking three tablets a day. My foot is almost better.
August 14
A bad day. It was dreary as we carried out our daily activities without incident, but at night the news bulletin reported in precise detail that the cave where the men were sent had been discovered, so there can be no doubt. I am now condemned to suffer from asthma indefinitely. They also seized all kinds of documents and photographs. This is the worst blow they have delivered; someone must have talked. Who? That is the question.
August 15
I sent Pablito off early with a message for Miguel that he should send two men to search for Benigno, as Coco and Aniceto had not yet arrived, but he ran into them on the way and the three returned together. Miguel sent word that he would stay wherever they are at nightfall, and asked for some water to be sent. Darío was dispatched to tell him we would be leaving early tomorrow, no matter what, but he ran into León who had come to say that the path was finished.
A broadcast from Santa Cruz reported in passing that two prisoners1 were captured by the army’s Muyupampa group, and there is no doubt that they are part of Joaquín’s group, which is being pursued relentlessly, and that those two prisoners talked. It was cold, but I did not have a bad night; another abscess on my same foot needs to be lanced. Pacho is back on his feet.
Another clash was reported in Chuhuayako, with no losses for the army.
August 16
We effectively walked for three hours and 40 minutes, with one hour’s rest, along a reasonably good trail. The mule threw me clear out of the saddle when she was jabbed by a branch, but I was all right; my foot is improving. Miguel, Urbano, and Camba continued clearing the path and reached the Rosita. Today was the day Benigno and his compañeros should have arrived at the cave; planes flew over the area several times. This could be due to some tracks that they left near Vargas’s place or it could be that some troops are coming down the Rosita or advancing along the Río Grande. During the evening I warned the men about the danger of crossing the river, and they will take great care tomorrow.
Altitude = 600 meters.
August 17
We started out early, making it to the Rosita by 9:00. There Coco thought he heard two shots and an ambush was set up, but nothing happened. The rest of the trip was slow because of losing the trail and miscommunication. We reached the Río Grande at 16:30 and camped there. I thought of continuing in the moonlight, but the troops seemed very tired. We have two days’ rations of horsemeat and for me one day of mote. It looks like we will have to slaughter another animal. The radio announced that the documents and other evidence from the four caves at the Ñacahuazú will be presented, which suggests they have also found the one at the camp on Monos Creek. My asthma is treating me well enough, under the circumstances.
Altitude = 640 meters. (This does not make sense, considering that yesterday it was 600.)
August 18
We set off earlier than usual, but we had to cross four fords, and one of them was rather deep, and we also had to clear the trail in some places. We finally reached the creek at 14:00, and the men were dead tired. There was no more activity. There are clouds of niborigüises in the area and it is still cold at night. Inti told me that Camba wants to quit; according to him, his physical condition will not let him go on, and furthermore, he sees no prospects for the struggle. Naturally, it is a typical case of cowardice and it would purge our ranks to let him go; but, as he knows the route we are taking to meet up with Joaquín, he cannot leave. Tomorrow I will talk to him and Chapaco.
Altitude = 680 meters.
August 19
Miguel, Coco, Inti, and Aniceto went to try to find a better way to Vargas’s house, where it seems there is a military detachment, but there is nothing new and it appears we must continue on the same old path. Arturo and Chapaco went hunting and caught a urina, and the very same Arturo, while on guard duty with Urbano, killed a tapir, which made the whole camp nervous, because it took seven shots. The animal will provide us with meat for four days, the urina for one day, plus the reserve of beans and sardines means there is food for a total of six days. It seems the white horse, the next on the list, is reprieved. I spoke with Camba, making it clear that he cannot leave until we reach our next stage, which is reuniting with Joaquín. Chapaco insisted he is not a coward, and therefore will not leave, but that he wants some hope of leaving within six months to a year; I gave him my word, and then he talked about a range of unconnected topics. He is not well.
The news is all about Debray, but no mention of the other accused. No news of Benigno; he should have been here by now.
August 20
The macheteros, (Miguel and Urbano), and my “public works department,” (Willy and Darío), made little progress, so we decided to stay put for one more day. Coco and Inti caught nothing, but Chapaco caught a monkey and a urina. I ate urina and it gave me a severe asthma attack in the middle of the night. El Médico is apparently still suffering from lumbago, which is affecting his general health and turning him into an invalid. There is no news from Benigno and this i
s now a serious concern.
The radio reports the presence of guerrillas 85 kilometers from Sucre.
August 21
Another day in the same place and another day without news of Benigno and his compañeros. Five monkeys were caught: four by Eustaquio while he was out hunting and one by Moro when it passed close to him. Moro still suffers from lumbago and was given some meperidine. Urina disagrees with my asthma.
August 22
We finally moved on, but before we did, the alarm was sounded because a man was spotted, apparently on the run along the riverbank; it turned out to be Urbano, lost. I gave El Médico a local anesthetic so he could travel on the mare, although it was still painful; he seems to have improved slightly; Pacho made the trip on foot. We set up camp on the right bank and only a small section of the path to Vargas’s house needs to be cleared by machete before it is ready. We still have tapir meat for tomorrow and the next day, but after tomorrow we will not be able to hunt. There is no news from Benigno, making it 10 days since they separated from Coco.
Altitude = 580 meters.
August 23
The day was very strenuous as we had to go around a very rocky cliff; the white horse refused to go on and we left him stuck in the mud, without even being able to take advantage of his bones. We found a little hunting cabin that looked like it had recently been inhabited; we set up an ambush and shortly two people fell into it. Their alibi is that they had set 10 traps and had gone to check them; according to them, the army is at Vargas’s house, and in Tatarenda, Caraguatarenda, Ipitá, and Ñumao, and that a few days ago, there was a clash in Caraguatarenda in which one soldier was wounded. It could have been Benigno, driven by hunger or encirclement. The men told us that tomorrow the army would come to fish, in groups of 15 to 20 men. Tapir meat was shared, along with some fish that were caught with a cartridge bag; I ate rice, which suited me very well. El Médico is somewhat better. It was announced that Debray’s trial has been postponed until September.
Altitude = 580 meters.
August 24
Reveille was sounded at 5:30 and we started out for the ravine that we thought we would follow. The vanguard led the way and had gone a few meters when three peasants appeared on the other side; Miguel was called back with his troops and everyone set up an ambush; eight soldiers arrived. The instructions were to let them cross the river by the ford in front and to shoot them when they got to the other side; but the soldiers did not cross and only went back and forth, right in front of our rifles, which we did not fire. Our civilian prisoners said that they were nothing but hunters. Miguel and Urbano, with Camba, Darío, and Hugo Guzmán, the hunter, were sent to follow a trail toward the west, but we do not know where it goes. We stayed in the ambush all day. At dusk the macheteros returned with their trapped prey: a condor and a rotten cat, all of it ending up inside us along with the last of the tapir; we have some beans left and whatever we can hunt. Camba has reached the lowest depth of moral degradation, trembling at the mere mention of soldiers. El Médico is still in pain and is giving himself Talamonal; I am fairly well, but ravenously hungry. The army issued a statement saying they had found another cave and that two soldiers were slightly wounded, with more “losses for the guerrillas.” Radio Habana broadcast news of an unconfirmed battle in Taperillas with one wounded on the army’s side.
August 25
The day passed without incident. Reveille sounded at 5:00 and the macheteros set off early; the army (seven men) came within a few paces of our position, but did not try to cross over. It seems their gunfire is a signal to the hunters; we will attack them tomorrow if the opportunity presents itself. Insufficient progress has been made on the trail because Miguel sent Urbano to consult with us about something, but Urbano misinterpreted it, by which time it was too late to do anything.
The radio announced a battle in Monte Dorado, which seems to be in Joaquín’s jurisdiction, as well as the presence of guerrillas three kilometers from Camiri.
August 26
Everything went wrong: seven soldiers came along, but they split up: five went downstream and two went across. Antonio, who was in charge of the ambush, fired prematurely and missed, allowing the two men to escape and seek reinforcements; the other five raced away, with Inti and Coco in pursuit, but the soldiers found cover and held them off. While I was watching the chase, I saw that the bullets were landing nearby, coming from our side. I ran over and found Eustaquio still shooting because Antonio had not told him what was happening. I was so furious I lost control and roughed up Antonio.
We set out at a weary pace as El Médico could not make much of an effort, but meanwhile, the army recovered and advanced toward the island ahead of us with 20 to 30 men; it was not worth attacking them. They might suffer two wounded, maximum. Coco and Inti distinguished themselves with their decisiveness.
Everything went smoothly until El Médico became exhausted and began to hold up the march. We stopped at 18:30 without having caught up to Miguel, who was, nevertheless, barely a few meters away, and made contact with us. Moro stayed in a ravine, unable to climb the last stretch, and we slept split into three groups. There are no signs of the army pursuing us.
Altitude = 900 meters.
August 27
The day was spent in a desperate search for a way out, and the result is still unclear; we are close to the Río Grande and have already passed Ñumao, but there are no new fords, according to reports; we could get there along Miguel’s cliff, but the mules would not make it. There is a possibility of crossing a small chain of mountains and then proceeding to the Río Grande-Masicuri, but we will not know if this is feasible until tomorrow. We have gone over 1,300 meters, which is about the maximum altitude in this region; we slept at an altitude of 1,240 meters, and it was very cold. I am quite ok, but El Médico is doing very poorly; we have run out of water, but are saving a little for him.
The good news, or the good development, was the return of Benigno, Ñato, and Julio. Theirs was a great odyssey because there are soldiers at Vargas’s house and in Ñumao and they almost clashed with them; later they followed troops down the Saladillo and came back up the Ñacahuazú, and they discovered there were three trails by the Congrí Creek made by the soldiers. They reached the cave at Oso Camp on the 18th, but found it is now an antiguerrilla camp with 150 soldiers; they were almost surprised there but managed to return without being seen. They went to the grandfather’s farm, where they got jocos, the only thing there, because it is abandoned, and they passed near the soldiers again, heard our shooting, and slept close by to follow our tracks until they caught up to us. According to Benigno, Ñato conducted himself very well, but Julio got lost twice and was somewhat afraid of the soldiers. Benigno thinks that some of Joaquín’s people went through the area a few days ago.
August 28
A gray and somewhat distressing day. We quenched our thirst with caracoré,2 which was just a way to fool our throats a little. Miguel sent Pablito by himself, with one of the hunters, to find water, moreover, with only a small revolver. He had not returned by 16:30, so I sent Coco and Aniceto to find him and they did not return all night. The rear guard stayed down below and could not hear the radio; it seems there is a new message. We finally sacrificed the little mare, after she had been with us for two painful months; I had done everything possible to save her, but our hunger was becoming severe, so at least now we are suffering only thirst. We will probably not reach water tomorrow either.
The radio broadcast news of a wounded soldier in the Tatarenda area. The unanswered question for me is this: If they are so scrupulous in reporting their own losses, why are they lying in other reports? And if they are not lying, who is causing those casualties in places so far apart as Caraguatarenda and Taperillas? It could be that Joaquín’s group is divided in two or there are new, independent guerrilla groups.
Altitude = 1,200 meters.
August 29
A heavy and quite distressing day. The macheteros made very little progre
ss and at one point went the wrong way, thinking they were going to the Masicuri. We set up camp at 1,600 meters, in a relatively humid place where a cane plant grows whose pulp quenches thirst. Some compañeros, Chapaco, Eustaquio, and Chino, are collapsing from lack of water. Tomorrow we have to head straight to wherever we can find water. The mules are holding up quite well.
There is no major news on the radio; the most important item is Debray’s trial, which is being extended from one week to the next.
August 30
The situation is becoming distressing now; the macheteros are fainting, Miguel and Darío are drinking their own urine, as is Chino, with the disastrous result of diarrhea and cramps. Urbano, Benigno, and Julio went down into a canyon and found water. They told me that the mules would not make it, and I decided to stay with Ñato, but then Inti came up again with water and the three of us stayed here, eating the mare. The radio remained below, so there was no news.
Altitude = 1,200 meters.
August 31
In the morning, Aniceto and León left to scout the area below, coming back at 16:00 with the news that the mules could get down from the camp to where water was ahead. The hardest part to get through was the first part; I checked it out and the animals can make it through. I ordered Miguel to make a detour tomorrow at the last cliff and continue clearing the path ahead; we will bring the mules down. There is a message from Manila but we could not copy it.