The Bolivian Diary

by Неизвестный

  I talked at length with Pablito, who, like everyone else, is worried by the lack of contact and believes that our fundamental task is to reestablish links with the city. But he showed himself to be steady and determined, the “Homeland or death” type, wherever it leads.

  September 12

  The day began with a tragicomic episode: right on 6:00, the hour of reveille, Eustaquio came to warn us that people were advancing along the creek; he called for arms and everyone was mobilized; Antonio had seen them, and when I asked him how many there were, he responded holding up five fingers. In the end, it turned out to be a hallucination, dangerous for the morale of the troops, because immediately afterwards they began to talk of psychosis. Later on, I spoke with Antonio and clearly he is not himself; tears came to his eyes, but he denied that he was worried about anything, saying he was only affected by a lack of sleep as he has been on kitchen duty for six days for falling asleep at his post and then denying it. Chapaco disobeyed an order and was sanctioned with three days’ kitchen duty. During the night he asked me to assign him to the vanguard because, according to him, he did not get along with Antonio. I refused. Inti, León, and Eustaquio went off to make a thorough exploration of the creek to determine whether we could get to the other side and make it to a large mountain chain that can be seen in the distance. Coco, Aniceto, and Julio went upstream to scout the fords and see how we could take the animals if we went that way.

  Barrientos’s offer has apparently caused quite a stir; in any case, one crazy journalist thinks that US$4,200 is too little money, considering what a menace I am. Radio Habana reported that OLAS has received a message of support from the ELN: a miracle of telepathy!

  September 13

  The explorers returned: Inti and his group climbed along the creek all day and slept at a high altitude, which was very cold; apparently, the creek begins in a mountain range ahead of us and flows west; the animals cannot get through there. Coco and his compañeros tried unsuccessfully to cross the river, clambering over 11 cliffs before reaching the canyon where the Pesca River should be located; they saw some signs of life there: farms cleared by fire and an ox. The animals will have to cross over to the other side, unless we can put everything on a raft, which is what we will try to do.

  I spoke with Darío about the issue of his leaving, if that is what he wants to do. At first he argued that to leave would be very dangerous, but I warned him that this is not a refuge and if he decided to stay then it would be for once and for all. He agreed and said that he would correct his shortcomings. We will see.

  The only news on the radio was that a shot was fired over the head of Debray’s father and that all Debray’s preparatory documents for his defense were confiscated under the pretext that they should not become political propaganda.

  September 14

  An exhausting day. Miguel set off at 7:00 with the vanguard and Ñato, with instructions to walk as far as possible on this side and to make a raft when it became difficult to continue. Antonio stayed with the rear guard in an ambush position. A couple of M-1s were left in a little cave that Ñato and Willy know about. At 15:30, after receiving no news, we started out.

  I found it impossible to ride a mule and, sensing an asthma attack coming on, I had to leave the animal to León and continue on foot. The rear guard had orders to begin their march at 15:00, if there were no counter orders. At about this time, Pablito arrived to say that the ox had reached the place where the animals could cross and that the raft was being built a kilometer farther up. I waited for the animals to arrive, which did not happen until 18:15, after some men were sent to help them. The two mules then went across (the ox had done so earlier) and we continued at a weary pace until reaching the raft, where I discovered that 12 men were still on this side—only 10 had gone across. So thus split up, we spent the night, eating the last ration of ox, which was half-rotten.

  Altitude = 720 meters. Walked = two to three kilometers.

  September 15

  A slightly longer stretch was covered: five to six kilometers, but we did not make it to the Pesca River because we had to take the animals across twice, and one of the mules refused to go. We still need to make one more crossing and to see if the mules can get through.

  The radio broadcast news of Loyola’s arrest; the photos must be at fault. Our remaining bull died—at the hands of the executioner, naturally.

  Altitude = 780 meters.

  September 16

  The day was spent constructing the raft and crossing the river, hiking only 500 meters to a camp where there was a little spring. The crossing went without incident in a good raft that was pulled by ropes from both sides of the river. When finally left alone, Antonio and Chapaco had another row and Antonio gave Chapaco six days punishment for insulting him; I respected his decision, but I am not sure it is fair. During the evening there was another incident when Eustaquio complained that Ñato had eaten an extra meal, which turned out to be some pieces of fatty bull hide. Another difficult situation over food. El Médico raised another little problem with me concerning his illness and what the others thought about it, based on some comments made by Julio; it all seems trivial.

  Altitude = 820 meters.

  September 17

  Pablito.

  A day of stomatology; I extracted teeth from Arturo and Chapaco, while Miguel explored up to the river and Benigno to the road; the news is that the mules can get up, but first have to swim, crossing and recrossing the river. In Pablito’s honor we made some rice: he is 22 years old, the youngest of the guerrillas.

  The only radio report is about the postponement of the trial and a protest over the arrest of Loyola Guzmán.

  September 18

  We started out at 7:00, but Miguel soon brought news that they had seen three peasants around a bend, but did not know if they had seen us; the order was issued to detain them. True to form, Chapaco sparked off another dispute, accusing Arturo of having stolen 15 bullets from his magazine; this bodes ill and the only good thing is that, although his rows are with Cubans, no Bolivian pays him any attention. The mules made the whole journey without having to swim, but when crossing a gully, the black mule fell and hurt itself, falling down about 50 meters. Four peasants and their little donkeys were seized, while traveling to Piraypani, a river located a league upstream from this one; they told us that Aladino Gutiérrez and his troops were hunting and fishing on the banks of the Río Grande. Benigno was thoroughly reckless by letting himself be seen, and then releasing the man, the woman, and the other peasant. When I found out about this, I blew my top, describing it an act of treason, which reduced Benigno to tears. All the peasants have been warned that they will be coming with us to Zitano tomorrow, the settlement where they live, six to eight leagues from here. Aladino and his wife are a bit shifty and it took a lot of effort to convince them to sell us food. The radio is now reporting two suicide attempts by Loyola “for fear of guerrilla reprisals,” as well as the arrest of several teachers who, if they are not involved, are at least sympathetic to us. Apparently a lot of things were taken from Loyola’s house, but it would not be strange if everything stemmed from the photos in the cave.

  At dusk a small plane and a Mustang aircraft flew over the area in a suspicious way.

  Altitude = 800 meters.

  September 19

  We did not leave particularly early because the peasants could not find their animals. Finally, after really giving them a mouthful, we set off with a caravan of prisoners. Moro was walking slowly and when we reached the river we learned that three more prisoners had been taken and that the vanguard had just gone to find a sugarcane plantation two leagues away. These leagues seemed long, as long as the first two had been. Around 9:00 we got to the plantation, which was only a cane field; the rear guard arrived later.

  I had a conversation with Inti about some of his weaknesses concerning food and he became very upset, agreeing with what I had said and saying he would make a public self-criticism when the group was al
one again, but he denied some of the accusations. We passed through altitudes of 1,440 meters and are now at 1,000; from here to Lusitano is a three-hour hike—maybe four, the pessimists say. Finally, we ate pork and those with a sweet tooth filled up on chankaka.

  The radio is going on about the Loyola case and the teachers are out on strike; the students of the secondary school where Higueras worked—one of those arrested—are on a hunger strike; and the oil company workers are about to strike because of the creation of an oil company.

  A sign of the times: I have run out of ink.

  September 20

  I decided to leave at 15:00 to get to the Lusitano settlement by nightfall, as they said it would only take three good hours to get there, but various mishaps delayed us until 17:00 and total darkness caught us on a hill. Despite lighting a lamp, we only reached Aladino Gutiérrez’s house at 23:00, and he had few supplies, although we did get some cigarettes and other trifles, but no clothing. We slept a little before heading off at 3:00 straight to Alto Seco, which is said to be four leagues away. We seized the magistrate’s telephone, but it does not work—has not worked for years—and besides, the line is down. The magistrate’s name is Vargas and he has only been in the post a short time.

  The radio reports nothing important; we passed altitudes of 1,800 meters and Lusitano is at 1,400 meters.

  We walked some two leagues to the settlement.

  September 21

  We left at 3:00 under bright moonlight along a trail we had checked out beforehand and walked until about 9:00 without seeing anyone and crossing altitudes of 2,040 meters, the highest we have reached so far. At this time, we ran into a couple of herders who gave us directions to Alto Seco, two leagues away. We had barely covered two leagues during part of the night and the morning. When we came to the first houses at the bottom of the hill, we bought some supplies and went to the mayor’s house to cook some food; later we passed a corn mill run by hydraulic power on the banks of the Piraymiri (1,400 meters altitude.) People here are quite afraid and try to avoid us; we have lost a lot of time due to poor mobility. To cover the two leagues to Alto Seco took from 12:35 to 5:00.

  September 22

  When our center group reached Alto Seco, we learned that the magistrate had apparently left yesterday to raise the alarm that we were in the area; in retaliation, we seized everything in his store. Alto Seco is a village of 50 houses, located at an altitude of 1,900 meters, and we were received with a well-seasoned mixture of fear and curiosity. The provisioning machine was set in motion and we soon had a respectable amount of food at our camp, which was an abandoned house next to a water hole. The little truck that was supposed to come from Vallegrande never showed up, confirming the theory that the magistrate went to sound an alert. Nevertheless, I had to bear his wife’s tears, who, in the name of God and her children, asked for payment, something I did not accede to. During the evening, Inti gave a talk at the local school (for first and second grades) to a group of 15 amazed and silent peasants, explaining the scope of our revolution. The teacher was the only person to speak, asking if we were fighting in the towns. He is a mix of the cunning peasant, educated, but with a childlike naivety; he asked a bunch of questions about socialism. An older boy offered to serve as our guide and warned us about the teacher, whom they describe as a bit of a fox. We left at 1:30, heading for Santa Elena, where we arrived at 10:00.

  Altitude = 1,300 meters.

  Barrientos and Ovando gave a press conference in which they went over all the information in the documents and said that Joaquín’s group had been wiped out.

  September 23

  The place was a lovely orange grove that still had a good amount of fruit. We spent the day resting and sleeping but kept a careful watch. At 1:00 we got up and at 2:00 left in the direction of Loma Larga, which we reached at dawn, passing altitudes of 1,800 meters. The men are heavily loaded with supplies and the march is slow. Benigno’s cooking upset my stomach.

  September 24

  By the time we reached the settlement called Loma Larga, I had pains in my liver and was vomiting; the troops are exhausted from these unproductive hikes. I decided to spend the night at the junction of the road to Pujío; we killed a pig sold to us by the only peasant still left in his house (Sóstenos Vargas), the others fled as soon as they saw us coming.

  Altitude = 1,400 meters.

  September 25

  We got to Pujío early, but there were people who had seen us down below the day before, which means Radio Bemba5 is preceding us. Pujío is a small settlement on a hill; the people fled when they saw us, but later approached us and treated us well. A carabinero had left early in the morning, having come from Serrano in Chuquisaca state to arrest a debtor; we are at the point where the three states converge. Traveling with mules is now dangerous, but we are trying to make it as easy as possible for El Médico who is becoming very weak. The peasants say they know nothing about the army being in this area. We walked in short stretches until we reached Tranca Mayo, where we slept beside the road because Miguel did not take the precautions I had demanded. The magistrate of La Higuera is in the area and the sentries were ordered to detain him.

  Altitude = 1,800 meters.

  Inti and I talked with Camba and he will stay with us until we are within sight of La Higuera, the point located close to Pucará, from where he will try to get to Santa Cruz.

  September 26

  Defeat. At the crack of dawn we came to Picacho where everyone was involved in a fiesta; this is the highest point we have reached: 2,280 meters; the peasants treated us very well and we carried on without too many fears, despite Ovando having made assurances of my capture any moment now.

  On reaching La Higuera, everything changed; the men had disappeared and only a few women remained. Coco went to the telegraph operator’s house, where there is a telephone, and brought back a cable dated the 22nd, from which we learned that a sub-prefect of Vallegrande told the magistrate that if he had news of a guerrilla presence in the area, that information should be communicated to Vallegrande, which will cover the costs; the man had fled, but his wife assured us that he had not spoken to anyone today because everyone was off celebrating in the next town, Jagüey.

  The vanguard set out at 13:00 to try to reach Jagüey and make a decision there about the mules and about El Médico; a little later I was talking to the only man left in town, who was very scared, when a coca merchant turned up, saying he had come from Vallegrande and Pucará and had seen nothing. He also was very nervous, which I attributed to our presence and let both of them go, in spite of the lies they told us. As I was going up to the crest of the hill, at approximately 13:30, shots coming from along the ridge indicated our men had fallen into an ambush. I organized the defense in the little village, to wait for the survivors, and set up an exit on the road that leads to the Río Grande. A few moments later, Benigno arrived, wounded, followed by Aniceto and Pablito, with a foot in a bad way. Miguel, Coco, and Julio had been killed and Camba had disappeared, leaving behind his backpack. The rear guard advanced quickly along the road and I followed them, bringing the two mules. Those in the rear were under fire and fell behind and Inti lost contact. After waiting for him for half an hour in an ambush position, with more gunfire coming from the hill, we decided to get out; but he caught up with us shortly. By this time we realized León had disappeared, and Inti said that he had seen his backpack by the gorge he came through; we saw a man who was walking fast along a canyon and concluded it was him. To try to throw them off our trail, we let the mules go in the canyon below and we proceeded along a small gorge that farther up had brackish water; we slept at 12:00 as it was impossible to go on.

  September 27

  At 4:00 we started out again, trying to find a way up, which we found at 7:00, but it was on the opposite side from where we had wanted to be. Ahead there was a barren hill, which seemed harmless. We climbed a little higher to find a refuge from the aircraft, in a sparsely wooded spot; there we discovered that the
hill had a path, although no one had used it all day. At dusk a peasant and a soldier climbed halfway up the hill and were there for a while, without seeing us. Aniceto was just returning from scouting the area, when he saw a large group of soldiers in a nearby house, so the easiest route for us was now blocked off. In the morning we saw a column of soldiers going up a nearby hill, with their equipment shining in the sun; later, at noon, isolated shots were heard together with some bursts of machine-gun fire; then shouts were heard of “there he is,” “come out of there,” and “are you coming or not?” accompanied by shooting. We had no idea of the fate of the man, whom we presume to be Camba. We set out at dusk to try to get down to the water along the other side, halting in some vegetation that was a little thicker than before; we have to seek water in the same canyon because we could not get past the cliff.

  The radio broadcast the news that we had clashed with the Galindo company, leaving three dead, whose bodies were being taken to Vallegrande for identification. Apparently they have not caught Camba or León. Our losses have been very great this time; the deepest loss is that of Coco, but Miguel and Julio were magnificent fighters and the human value of the three is incalculable. León had a lot of promise.