I sent the vanguard to position themselves along the road and to explore up to the junction with the oil company’s road, about three kilometers away. Aircraft began to move over this area; according to information on the radio, bad weather had made activity over the previous days difficult, but now flights have been resumed. There was an odd report about two dead and three wounded, but it is not clear whether this is new or old news. After eating, we left at 17:00, heading for the railroad tracks, covering seven or eight kilometers without incident, then walked one and a half kilometers along the railroad tracks and took an abandoned, narrow road that should lead to a farm seven kilometers away, but everyone was tired, so we slept halfway there. On the entire journey, we only heard a single shot in the distance.
Altitude = 800 meters.
Altitude = 800 meters.
We covered the seven kilometers that Gregorio1 had estimated and reached the farm where we caught and killed a robust pig and killed it; at that moment, however, Braulio Robles’s cowherd, his son, and two farmhands showed up. One of the farmhands turned out to be the achacao2 of the owner, Symuní. Using their horses, we transported the pig, now chopped in pieces, three kilometers to the creek where we detained them while we hid Gregorio, whose disappearance was known. Just as the center group arrived, an army truck went by with two young soldiers and some barrels, an easy target; but this was a day for revelry and pork. We spent the night cooking and at 3:30 set the four peasants free, paying each one $10 for the day. At 4:30 Gregorio departed, after waiting for the meal and his reenlistment bonus; he was paid $100. The water from the creek is brackish.
We started out at 6:30 by the left bank of the creek and walked until 12:00; Benigno and Ricardo were then sent off to scout the road and found a good place for an ambush. At 13:00, we took our positions, Ricardo and I each with our own group in the middle, Pombo was at one end, and Miguel was with the entire vanguard at the best point. At 14:30, we let a truck loaded with pigs go by, and at 16:20, a small truck with empty bottles; at 17:00, we saw an army truck, the same one as yesterday, with two soldiers wrapped in blanket in the back of the vehicle. I did not have the heart to shoot them, and my brain did not react fast enough to figure out how to detain them, so we let them drive by. At 18:00 we lifted the ambush and continued down the road until we came to the creek again. We had barely arrived when four trucks came by in a row and then three more, but they did not seem to be carrying soldiers.
We continued walking beside the creek planning to set up another ambush if the conditions were right, we struck another path leading to the west and went that way; then we followed a dry creek bed in a southerly direction. We halted at 14:45 to make some coffee and oatmeal, by a pool of muddy water, but we dawdled so long we camped there. A cold front blew in from the south in the evening, bringing a light rain that fell all night.
We left the path and continued cutting through the woods, under the constant drizzle of the cold front. We walked until 17:00, spending two and a quarter hours cutting through the thick undergrowth on the side of the highest peak in the area. Fire became the great god of the day. The day passed without food; we saved the brackish water in our canteens for breakfast tomorrow.
Altitude = 250 meters.
After a meager breakfast, Miguel, Benigno, and Pablito set off to make a trail and to scout the area. At approximately 14:00, Pablo returned saying he had come across an abandoned farm with livestock. We all got ready to march and, following the course of the creek, we crossed the farm and headed to the Río Grande. From there a scouting party was sent off with the mission to occupy a house if an isolated one was found close by; this was done and the first reports suggested we were three kilometers from Puerto Camacho, where there were about 50 soldiers, and that it is connected by a road. We spent the whole night cooking pork and locro;3 the day had not brought the expected results and we set out tired as day was breaking.
We hiked slowly, avoiding old ranches, until the guide, one of the owner’s sons, announced that we had passed the last one. We continued along the “beach”4 until we found another farm, not mentioned before, that had squash, sugarcane, bananas, and some beans. We set up camp here. The lad who was our guide began to complain about severe abdominal pain, but it is hard to know if they are real.
Altitude = 560 meters.
We moved our camp about 300 meters to avoid being doubly exposed to both the riverbank and the farm, although later we learned that the owner never goes there; he always uses a barge. Benigno, Pablo, Urbano, and León went to try to cut a path through the rocky cliffs, but they came back in the afternoon saying this was impossible. I had to warn Urbano again about his rudeness. We agreed to make a raft tomorrow, close to the cliff.
There is news of a state of siege and threats from the miners, but nothing substantial yet.
We walked two hours to get to the cliff. Ñato was there making the raft with great effort, but it took a long time and was not a success; it has yet to be tested. I dispatched Miguel to try to find another exit route, but he failed. Benigno caught a large fish, a dorado.
Altitude = 590 meters.
As expected, the raft was unable to carry more than three backpacks and even that was pushing it. The swimmers threw themselves into the water, but could do nothing because of the cold; I decided to send a group to the prisoner’s house to look for a barge; Coco, Pacho, Aniceto, and Ñato went. Shortly, mortar fire was heard and Ñato returned with the news that they had clashed with the army, which was on the other side of the river. According to all indications, our people had set off taking no precautions and were spotted. The soldiers began their usual ruckus, and Pombo and Coco began firing without rhyme or reason, alerting them. We resolved to stay put and tomorrow begin a trail to get out of here. The situation is quite uncomfortable if they decide to attack us in full force because, in the best case scenario, we would have to cut through the arid, wooded cliffs.
A day of total calm; we maintained the ambush but the army never came; only one small plane flew over the area for a few minutes. They might be waiting for us at the Rosita. The path over the ridge goes almost to the crest of the hill. Tomorrow we will leave at any rate; we have enough food for five or six days.
We thought at first we could make it to the Rosita or at least the Río Grande again, so we started out. On reaching a small water hole, however, this seemed more difficult than we expected, so we stayed there waiting for news. At 15:00, word came that there was a larger water hole, but it was impossible to get to, so we decided to stay here. The day turned nasty and finally the cold front treated us to a night of cold and rain. The radio broadcast some interesting news: the newspaper Presencia announced one dead and one wounded for the army from Saturday’s clash; this is great and almost certainly true, and means that we have maintained our pattern of clashes resulting in casualties. Another report announced three dead, among them Inti, one of the guerrilla leaders, and noted the foreign components of the guerrilla force: 17 Cubans, 14 Brazilians, four Argentines, and three Peruvians. The Cuban and the Peruvian count is true; we will have to find out where they got this information.
Altitude = 900 meters.
We walked only one hour up to the next water hole, because the slashers have not made it to the Rosita or the Río [Grande]. Very chilly. Possibly it can be done tomorrow. We have enough light rations for five days.
The political upheaval in this country is fascinating—the incredible number of pacts and counter-pacts that are in the air. Rarely has the potential for a guerrilla catalyst been so clear.
Altitude = 840 meters.
Celita: 4?5
We spent the day by the “Aguada Fría” [Icy Water Hole] beside a fire, waiting for news from Miguel and Urbano, who were slashing a trail. The time set for moving out was 15:00, but Urbano arrived after that time to tell us they had reached a creek and had seen fences, and thought it might lead to the Río Grande. We stayed put eating the last of the stew; nothing else is left except for one ration of peanuts and three of mote.
I turned 39 [today] and am inevitably approaching the age when I need to consider my future as a guerrilla, but for now I am still “in one piece.”
Altitude = 840 meters.
We walked less than three hours to reach the banks of the Río Grande, an area we recognize and which I estimate to be two hours from the Rosita; Nicolás, the peasant, says it is three kilometers. We gave him 150 pesos and the opportunity to leave and he took off like a rocket. We will stay where we are; Aniceto scouted the area and believes that we can cross the river. We ate peanut soup and some totai fruit boiled and cooked in lard; all we have left is mote for three days.
Altitude = 610 meters.
We had walked a kilometer when we saw the people from the vanguard on the riverbank across from us. Pacho had crossed while exploring and found the ford. We crossed in icy water up to our waists, against a strong current, without mishap. An hour later we reached the Rosita, where there are some old footprints, probably made by the army. We find the Rosita to be a larger waterway than expected, and there is no sign of the road that is marked on the map. We walked an hour in the icy water and decided to camp to take advantage of the totai fruit and to try to find the beehive that Miguel had found during an earlier expedition. We did not find the beehive and ended up eating only mote and palm hearts with lard. There is enough food for tomorrow and the day after (mote). We walked some three kilometers along the Rosita and another three along the Río Grande.
Altitude = 610 meters.
We walked about 15 kilometers along the Rosita in five and a half hours. During the trek we crossed four streams, even though the map shows only one, the Abapocito. We have found many recent tracks. Ricardo killed a hochi6 and this, along with mote, was how we got through the day. There is enough mote for tomorrow, but presumably we will find another house.
Many of us burned our bridges, eating the rest of the mote for breakfast. At 11:00, after two and a half hours of walking, we came across a farm with corn, yucca, sugarcane, and a sugar mill to grind it, jocos, and rice. We prepared a protein-less meal and sent Benigno and Pablito off to explore. Two hours later Pablo returned with the news that he had run into a peasant whose plot was 500 meters from this one; he said that other peasants were headed this way and they were taken prisoner when they arrived. At night, we moved our camp, and slept at the boys’ farm plot, next to the start of the road to Abapó, seven leagues from here. Their houses are 10 to 15 kilometers above where the Mosquera and the Oscura rivers meet, next to the latter.
Altitude = 680 meters.
We walked at a slow pace for about 12 kilometers until we reached the settlement, which consists of three houses and the same number of families. Two kilometers farther down lives the Gálvez family, where the Mosquera and the Oscura meet; we have to hunt down the residents to be able to speak with them because they are like little animals. In general, they received us very well, but, Calixto, who was appointed mayor by a military commission that passed through here a month ago, was reserved and reluctant to sell us a few little things. When night fell, three pig merchants arrived, carrying a revolver and a Mauser rifle; they had passed the vanguard’s observation post. Inti, who interrogated them, did not take their weapons and Antonio, who was guarding them, did so very negligently. Calixto assured us that they were merchants from Postrer Valle and that he knew them.
Altitude = 680 meters.
There is another river called the Suspiro that flows into the Rosita from the left; no one lives along it.
In the morning, Paulino,7 one of the boys from the farm below, told us that the three individuals were not merchants: one was a lieutenant and the other two were in a different line of work. He obtained this information from Calixto’s daughter, who is his girlfriend. Inti went with several men and gave the officer until 9:00 to come out—otherwise they would all be shot. The officer came out immediately, crying. He is a second lieutenant in the police force who was sent here with a carabinero and a teacher from Postrer Valle who had volunteered to come along. A colonel who is stationed in that village with 60 men sent them. Their mission included a long trip for which they were given four days, passing points along the Oscura as well. We thought about killing them, but then I decided to send them back with a severe warning about the norms of warfare.
Investigating how they had been able to get through, it was established that Aniceto abandoned his post to call Julio and this was the moment they came; besides, Aniceto and Luis were found sleeping at their posts. They were punished with seven days’ kitchen duty and one day without eating the stew or the roast and fried pork that was served to excess. All the prisoners’ belongings were confiscated.
The old lady.8
After two days of profuse dental extractions, which made me famous as “Fernando Sacamuelas” [Tooth-puller] alias Chaco, I closed my clinic and we set off in the afternoon, walking just over an hour. For the first time in this war, I traveled on a mule. The three detained men were brought along for an hour on the path beside the Mosquera, confiscating all their belongings, including watches and sandals. We considered bringing Calixto, the mayor, as a guide as well as Paulino, but he was sick, or pretended to be, and so we left him with a serious warning, which will probably be in vain.
Paulino promised to take my message to Cochabamba.9 We will give him a letter for Inti’s wife, a coded message for Manila, and four communiqués. The fourth [see Appendices] outlines the composition of our guerrilla force and clears up the rumor about Inti’s death; it is the [blank in the original]. We will see if we can now establish contact with the city. Paulino pretended to come with us as our prisoner.
Altitude = 750 meters.
We walked in effect some three hours, leaving the Oscura or Moroco River to find a water hole in a place called Pasiones. We consulted the map and everything indicates that we are no more than six leagues from Florida or the nearest houses at Piray, where Paulino’s brother-in-law lives, but he does not know the way there.
We thought of continuing, making use of the moonlight, but it is not worth it considering the distance.
Altitude = 950 meters.
We walked for only one hour and then lost the path, and looking for it held us up all morning and part of the afternoon; then the rest of the day was spent clearing the trail for tomorrow. The night of San Juan’s Eve was not as cold as it is reputed to be.
Altitude = 1,050 meters.
Asthma is becoming a serious problem for me and there is very little medicine left.
We walked a total of 12 kilometers, taking four hours. For some stretches, the path is good and quite visible, but at other times we have to feel our way. We climbed down an incredible cliff, following the tracks of some cowherds and their cattle. We camped by a trickle of water on the slopes of Durán Hill. The radio brings news of struggle in the mines. My asthma is worsening.
Altitude = 1,200 meters.
We followed the path made by the cowherds, but did not catch up with them. At mid-morning we saw a ranch on fire and a plane flying over the area. We never learned whether there was a connection between the two events, as we continued on and by 16:00 reached Piray, where Paulino’s sister lives. There are three houses here, one of which is abandoned, another has no one inside and the sister lives in the third house with four children; her husband had gone to Florida with Paniagua, the man from the other house. Everything seemed normal. Paniagua’s daughter lives a kilometer away, and we opted to camp at her house, buying a calf that was immediately slaughtered. Coco, with Julio, Camba, and León were sent to Florida to buy some things, but they discovered the army was there: about 50 men who were waiting for more to bring the total to 120 or 130. The owner of the house is an old man called Fenelón Coca.
An Argentine radio station broadcast the news of 87 victims at the mining area of Siglo XX;10 the Bolivian stations are silent about the number. My asthma continues to grow worse and now it will not let me sleep well.
Altitude = 780 meters.
A bad day for me. Everything seemed to be going smoothly, and I had sent five men to relieve those in the ambush along the road to Florida when shots were heard. We went there quickly on horseback and found a strange spectacle: amid total silence, the bodies of four young soldiers were lying in the sun on the sand by the river. We could not take their weapons because we did not know where the enemy was; it was 17:00 and we waited for nightfall to recover their weapons; Miguel sent word that he heard sounds of breaking branches to our left; Antonio and Pacho went to see, but I gave the order not to shoot if they saw nothing. Almost immediately shooting was heard all around and I ordered a retreat, as we were at a disadvantage under those conditions. The withdrawal was delayed and we got news of two wounded: Pombo in his leg and Tuma in his abdomen. We carried them quickly to the house to operate on them the best we could. Pombo’s wound is superficial and will just cause headaches because of his lack of mobility. Tuma’s wound destroyed his liver and produced intestinal perforations; he died during the operation. With his death, I have lost an inseparable compañero of recent years, one whose loyalty was unwavering and whose absence I feel now almost as if he were my own son. As he died, he asked that his watch be given to me, but this was not done immediately as they were busy tending to him; so he took it off himself and gave it to Arturo. The gesture revealed his wish that it be given to his son whom he had never met, as I had done before with the watches of fallen compañeros. I will wear it for the rest of the war. We loaded his body onto an animal and we will take it to be buried away from here.
We have taken prisoner two new spies: a carabinero lieutenant and a carabinero. They were lectured and set free wearing only their underwear, due to a misinterpretation of my orders, which were to take everything from them that we could use. We left with nine horses.
After carrying out the painful task of burying Tuma in a badly made grave, we traveled on, reaching the center of Tejería during the day. The vanguard set off at 14:00 on a 15-kilometer expedition and we left at 14:30. The trip took longer for those at the rear, who were caught by nightfall and had to wait for the moon; by 2:30 they made it to the house in Paliza, where the guides were from.
Altitude = 850 meters.
We left two animals with the owner of the house in Tejería, who is the nephew of the old woman Paniagua, so that he could return them to her.
We found a guide who for $40 offered to take us to the junction of the road that goes to Don Lucas’s11 house, but we stayed in a house that we came across first that had a water hole. We left late. The last ones to leave, Moro and Ricardo, took an outrageous amount of time to get started and I missed the news. We covered an average of one kilometer per hour. According to different military broadcasts, or some radio station acting on its own, there were three killed and two wounded in an encounter with guerrillas in the Mosquera area; this must be a reference to our battle, but we saw—with almost absolute certainty—four bodies, unless one played dead perfectly.
The house of a certain Zea was not occupied but had several cows whose calves were fenced in.
Altitude = 1,150 meters.
I had strong words with Moro and Ricardo about the delay, especially Ricardo. Coco and Darío from the vanguard, along with Moro, set off with their backpacks loaded onto the horses. Ñato carried his own because he was in charge of all the animals. My backpack and Pombo’s were loaded on a mule. Pombo traveled fairly easily on a lowland mare. We put him up at Don Lucas’s house on the summit at an altitude of 1,800 meters; he was there with his two daughters, one of whom has a goiter. There are two other houses: one belongs to a seasonal worker, who has almost nothing, and the other is well-stocked. The night was rainy and cold. Reports suggest that Barchelón is a half-day walk away, but according to the peasants who have come that way, the path is in very poor condition. The owner of the house disagrees and assures us that the trail can be cleared easily. Peasants who came to see the person at the other house were detained because they might be suspicious.
On the way, I had a talk with our troops, now consisting of 24 men. I added Chino to our list of exemplary men; I explained the significance of our losses, and the personal loss that the death of Tuma meant to me, as I had viewed him almost like a son. I criticized the lack of self-discipline and the slowness of the march and promised to give them some ideas so that in future ambushes we could avoid what had just happened—needless loss of life due to a failure to abide by norms.
The old man Lucas gave us some information about his neighbors, from which we gather that the army has already started preparations in this area. One of his neighbors, Andulfo Díaz, is the general secretary of the peasants’ union in this region—a union that is pro-Barrientos; the other is an old chatterbox whom we let go because he is paralyzed; another is a coward who might talk, according to his colleagues, to avoid complications. The old man promised to accompany us and to help us clear the way to Barchelón; the two peasants will follow us. We spent the day resting; anyway, it was rainy and unpleasant.
In the political arena, the most important development is the official announcement by Ovando12 that I am here. Moreover, he said that the army is facing a perfectly trained guerrilla force that includes the Vietcong commanders who have defeated the best US regiments. His information is based on statements made by Debray who apparently talked more than was necessary, although we cannot tell what implications this has, or what the circumstances were under which he talked. It is also rumored that Loro was murdered. They attribute to me a plan for insurrection in the mines, to coincide with the one in Ñacahuazú. Things are turning out beautifully, so very shortly, I will no longer be “Fernando Sacamuelas” [Tooth-puller].
A message was received from Cuba reporting on the low level of development of the guerrilla movement in Peru, where they scarcely have any men or weapons, but have spent a fortune and are talking of a supposed guerrilla force involving Paz Estenssoro, a colonel Seoane, and a certain Rubén Julio, a very rich man belonging to the movement in the Panda region; this will take place in Guayaramerin. It is the [illegible in the original].
The negative points are the impossibility of making contact with Joaquín and the gradual loss of men, each of which constitutes a serious defeat, although the army does not know this. We have had two skirmishes this month, causing the army four dead and three wounded, according to their own information.
The most important features are:
1)Continued total lack of contact, which reduces us now to 24 men, with Pombo wounded and with reduced mobility.
2)Continued lack of peasant recruitment. It is a vicious circle: to recruit we need to maintain constant activity in populated territory, and to do this we need more people.
3)The legend of the guerrilla force is growing like wildfire, now we are invincible superhumans.
4)The lack of contact extends to the party, although we have made an attempt through Paulino that could bring results.
5)Debray is still in the news but now he is linked with my case, and I have been identified the leader of the movement. We will see the result of this move by the government and if it is positive or negative for us.
6)The morale of the guerrilla fighters continues to be strong and their commitment to the struggle is increasing. All the Cubans are exemplary in combat and there are only two or three weak Bolivians.
7)The army continues to be useless in its military tactics, but is doing work among the peasants that we cannot ignore, transforming all members of the community into informers, either through fear or by fooling them about our goals.
8)The massacre in the mines greatly improves our outlook; if we can get our statement circulated, it will be a great clarifying factor.
Our most urgent task is to reestablish contact with La Paz, to replenish our military and medical supplies, and to recruit 50 to 100 men from the city, even if the number of active combatants comes to only 10 or 25.
1.Gregorio Vargas, a peasant who was a guide for the guerrilla force.
2.In Bolivia a woman’s son is called the stepson of the man.
3.Quechua soup made with rice, charqui, potatoes, and vegetables in the eastern region of Bolivia.
4.Playa refers to a broad open sandy area along the river.
5.Birthday of his youngest daughter Celia Guevara March.
6.Species of rodent common in eastern Bolivia.
7.Paulino Baigorria, a 20-year-old peasant who served as a liaison for the guerrilla force and requested to join it. While completing a mission for Che, he was arrested in Comarapa, held incommunicado, and tortured.
8.Birthday of his mother, Celia de la Serna.
9.Paulino was on his way with the message for Cochabamba when he was intercepted and arrested.
10.Mining region of Bolivia where a massacre by the Bolivian Army took place, killing 87 people, including women and children, on June 24, 1967. This became known as the Massacre of San Juan.
11.Don Lucas was a Bolivian peasant who cooperated with the guerrillas.
12.Alfredo Ovando Candia, commander in chief of the Bolivian Armed Forces at that time.