We led the mules down early, with many adventures that included a spectacular fall by the male mule. El Médico has not recovered, but I have and I can walk perfectly leading the mule. The trail is longer than we thought, and we only realized at 18:15 that we had reached the creek by Honorato’s house.1 Miguel went full steam ahead but only made it to the main road, by which time it was already completely dark. Benigno and Urbano advanced cautiously and saw nothing unusual, so they occupied the house but discovered it was empty; the army had added several barracks, which were not being used. We found flour, lard, salt, and goats, two of which were killed and cooked with flour for a feast, although we had to wait all night for it to be ready. We withdrew at dawn, leaving guards posted at the little house and at the entrance to the road.
Altitude = 740 meters.
Early in the morning we withdrew to the farms, but left an ambush at the house, with Coco, Pablo, and Benigno, and Miguel in charge. A sentry remained watching on the other side. At 8:00 Coco came to tell us that a herder had come looking for Honorato; there were four of them and I ordered Coco to let the other three pass. This took time because we were an hour away from the house. At 13:30, several shots were heard; we learned later that a peasant had come by with a soldier and a horse; Chino, who was on sentry duty with Pombo and Eustaquio, shouted, “a soldier,” and raised his rifle. The soldier shot at him and fled; Pombo fired, killing the horse. I flew into a rage, as this was the height of incompetence; poor Chino was crushed. We released the four, who had gone past in the meantime, along with the two prisoners, and sent everyone off up the Masicuri.
We bought a young bull from the herder for $700 and gave Hugo $100 for his work and $50 for some things we had taken from him. The dead horse turned out to be one that was left at Honorato’s house because it was lame. The herder said Honorato’s wife had complained about the army because soldiers had beaten her husband and had eaten everything they had. When the herders passed through eight days ago, Honorato was in Vallegrande recovering from a wildcat bite. In any case, someone had been in the house because we saw a lit fire there when we arrived. Owing to Chino’s error, I decided to leave that night in the same direction as the herders and to try to reach the first house, assuming there were only a few soldiers and that they had continued to withdraw. But we left very late and it was already 3:45 when we crossed the ford. We did not come across any house, so we slept on a cow path waiting for daylight.
The radio broadcast a nasty piece of news about the annihilation of a group of 10 people led by a Cuban named Joaquín in the Camiri area; nevertheless, the report came from the “Voice of America” and local stations have not said anything.
As is appropriate for a Sunday, there was a clash. At dawn we followed the Masicuri downstream to its mouth, and then followed the Río Grande for a while. At 13:00 Inti, Coco, Benigno, Pablito, Julio, and León set out to try to find the house and, if the army was not there, they were to buy some supplies that would make our lives more bearable. First, the group captured two farmhands who said the owner was not around and neither were soldiers, and that they could get plenty of supplies. Other information: Yesterday five soldiers galloped past without stopping at the house. Honorato passed by two days ago on his way home with two of his children.
On reaching the landowner’s house, they encountered 40 soldiers who had just arrived there as well, resulting in a confused skirmish in which our people killed at least one soldier, the one who had a dog with him; the soldiers reacted and surrounded them, but later retreated in the face of our shouts; we failed to obtain even a grain of rice. A plane flew over the area and fired some small rockets, apparently beside the Ñacahuazú. Other information from the peasants: No guerrillas have been seen in this area and the first they heard anything was from the herders who came through yesterday.
Once again the “Voice of America” reported on battles with the army, this time naming José Carrillo as the only survivor of the group of 10 people. As Carrillo is Paco, from the reject group, and the fact that the annihilation took place in Masicuri, everything seems to indicate that this is one big trick.
Altitude = 650 meters.
A group of eight men under Miguel’s command set up an ambush on the road from the Masicuri to Honorato’s house, maintaining it until 13:00, without incident. Meanwhile, Ñato and León, through a strenuous effort, brought back a cow and later two magnificent oxen. Urbano and Camba walked upriver for about 10 kilometers; we have to cross four fords, one of which is quite deep. The young bull was killed and volunteers were requested to make an incursion in search of food and information. Inti, Coco, Julio, Aniceto, Chapaco, and Arturo were chosen, led by Inti; Pacho, Pombo, Antonio, and Eustaquio also volunteered. Inti’s instructions are: Arrive at the house at dawn, observe any movement, stock up on supplies if there are no soldiers. If there are soldiers, surround the house, carry on and try to capture one; remember it is most essential to avoid any losses and to use the utmost caution.
The radio brings news of a death at a new clash at Vado del Yeso, near where the group of 10 was wiped out, which makes the news about Joaquín seem like a trick; but on the other hand, they gave a physical description of Negro, the Peruvian doctor, killed in Palmarito and his body was taken to Camiri; Pelado assisted with the identification.
This seems to be a real death; the others could be fictitious or members of the reject group. In any case, there is a strange tone to the reports that are now focusing on the areas of Masicuri and Camiri.
The day passed without incident, while we were waiting for news. At 4:30 the group returned with a mule and some supplies. In the house of the landowner, Morón, there were soldiers, who almost discovered our group because of their dogs; they apparently mobilize during the night. They surrounded the house and cut through the woods to Montaño’s house, where no one was home but they took a quintal of the corn that was there. Around 12:00, they crossed the river and found two houses on the other side; everyone fled from one of the houses and so they requisitioned the mule; in the other house there was very little cooperation, so they had to resort to threats.
The information they received was that no guerrillas had been seen in the area until now, except for those who had been at Perez’s house (us) before the carnival. They returned by day and waited for darkness to get past Morón’s house. Everything went perfectly, but Arturo got lost and fell asleep on the path and two hours were lost looking for him; they left footprints that could be tracked if cattle do not go over them; moreover, they dropped some things along the way. The spirit of the troops changed immediately.
The radio broadcast that the dead guerrillas could not be identified, but any moment there might be more news. We decoded the entire report that stated that OLAS [Organization of Latin American Solidarity] was a triumph, but the Bolivian delegation was shit; Aldo Flores of the PCB [Bolivian Communist Party] pretended to represent the ELN [National Liberation Army] so they had to show he was lying. They have requested that one of Kolle’s men come to discuss matters; Lozano’s2 house was raided and he is now underground; they think that they can make an exchange for Debray. That is all; evidently they have not received our last message.
Benigno.
Benigno’s birthday looked promising; at dawn we made cornmeal with what had been brought and had a little mate with sugar. Later Miguel, in command of eight men, went to set up an ambush while León found another young bull to take with us. As it was rather late, just after 10:00, and they had not returned, I sent Urbano to tell them to lift the ambush at 12:00. A few minutes later a shot was heard, then a short burst of fire, and then another shot sounded in our direction. As we took our positions, Urbano came racing up; there had been an encounter with a patrol that had dogs. With nine men on the other side, and not knowing their precise location, I was desperate: the path was cleared, but did not go as far as the riverbank, so I sent Moro, Pombo, and Camba, with Coco, that way. I thought we could move the backpacks and make contact with the rear guard, if possible, so they could rejoin the group; on the other hand, it was possible that they might fall into the ambush. Nevertheless, Miguel was able to rejoin us with all of his troops, cutting through the woods.
Explanation of what happened: Miguel advanced without posting a guard on our little path, and was busy looking for cattle; León heard a dog bark and Miguel decided to withdraw just in case; just then they heard shots and saw that a patrol had come along a path that lay between them and the woods. The soldiers were ahead of them, so they had to make it back through the woods.
We withdrew calmly, with three mules and three head of cattle. After crossing four fords, two of them difficult, we camped about seven kilometers from where we were before; we slaughtered a cow and ate sumptuously. The rear guard reported that sustained gunfire was heard coming from the direction of the camp, with a number of machine guns.
Altitude = 640 meters.
A short trip. Only one ford was crossed and then we ran into difficulties with a rocky cliff; Miguel decided to set up camp to wait for us. Tomorrow we will conduct some good scouting expeditions. This situation is this: Aircraft are not looking for us here, despite having found the camp and the radio reports that I am the leader of the group. The question is: Are they afraid? Not likely. Do they consider it impossible to climb to the top? Based on what we have already done, of which they are aware, I do not think so. Do they want to let us advance to wait for us at some strategic point? It is possible. Do they think that we will stay in the Masicuri area for supplies? This is also possible. El Médico is much better, but I had a relapse and spent a sleepless night.
The radio brings news of the valuable information supplied by José Carrillo (Paco). We should make an example of him.
Debray responded to the accusations Paco made against him, saying that he likes to hunt and that is why he might have been seen with a rifle. Radio Cruz del Sur announced the discovery of the body of Tania the guerrilla on the banks of the Río Grande; it is news that does not ring true, like the news of Negro did; her body was taken to Santa Cruz, according to this radio station—and only this one, not the Altiplano station.
Altitude = 720 meters.
I spoke with Julio; he is doing very well but he is worried about the lack of contact and recruitment.
A quiet day. We set up ambushes with eight men from morning to night, with Antonio and Pombo in charge. The animals are doing well, eating from the chuchial3 and the mule is recovering from its injuries. Aniceto and Chapaco went to explore upriver and returned to say that the way was relatively good for the animals. Coco and Camba crossed the river with water up to their chests and climbed the hill in front of us, but they came back with little new information. I dispatched Miguel and Aniceto and the result of their more extensive exploration was that, according to Miguel, it would be very difficult for the animals to get through. Tomorrow we will stay on this side, because there is always the possibility that the animals can get across the water with no loads on them.
The radio brought information that Barrientos attended the interment of the remains of Tania the guerrilla, who was given a “Christian burial.” Later he was in Puerto Mauricio, where Honorato’s house is; he made a proposal to those deceived Bolivians, who had never received their promised salaries that they should present themselves with their hands on their heads at army posts and no action would be taken against them. A small plane bombed the area below Honorato’s house, as if making a show for Barrientos.
A Budapest daily is criticizing Che Guevara, a pathetic and apparently irresponsible figure, and applauds the Marxist stand of the Chilean Party for taking a pragmatic position when faced with reality. How I would like to have power, for nothing more than to expose cowards and lackeys of all stripes and to rub their snouts in their own filth.
Miguel and Ñato went off exploring and returned with the news that we could get through, but the animals would have to swim over; the men can cross at the fords. There is a fairly large creek to the left where we can set up camp. The ambushes have been maintained with eight men, under the command of Antonio and Pombo, without incident. I spoke with Aniceto; he seems very steady, although he thinks there are several Bolivians who are weakening; he complained about the lack of political work by Coco and Inti. We finished off the cow, and all that remains are its four hooves for a broth tomorrow.
The only news on the radio is the postponement of Debray’s trial to September 17, at the earliest.
A bad day. It began auspiciously but then the animals refused to go on a track that was very rough and, finally, the male mule refused to walk any farther and was left behind on the other bank. Coco made the decision due to the violent flooding of the river, but four weapons were left on the other side, among them Moro’s and the three antitank shells for Benigno’s gun. I swam across the river with the mule, but lost my shoes in the process so now I have only sandals, which does not amuse me at all. Ñato made a bundle out of his clothing, wrapped his weapons in an oilcloth, and jumped in where the torrent was the strongest, and lost everything. The other mule got stuck and then jumped in to go across by herself, but we had to bring her back because there was no way she would make it. León tried to take the mule across, but they both nearly drowned as the current had increased.
Finally, we made it to the creek that was our goal; El Médico was in a very bad way, complaining throughout the night of neuralgia in his extremities. From here, our plan was to make the animals swim back to the other side, but the rising water level interrupted this plan, at least until it goes down again. Furthermore, planes and helicopters have been flying over this area; I do not like helicopters at all because they could be setting up ambushes along the river. Tomorrow we will explore upstream and downstream, in order to determine exactly where we are.
Altitude = 780 meters. Walked = three to four kilometers.
I forgot to mark an event: Today, I took a bath, after more than six months. This constitutes a record that several others are already approaching.
A quiet day. Scouts went upriver and to the creek; those who explored the river returned at dusk with the news that most likely we could cross it when the river level drops further and said there were sandy areas where the beasts could walk. Benigno and Julio explored the creek, but only superficially and they were back by 12:00. With the assistance of the rear guard, Ñato and Coco went to find the things we left behind, passing the mule and leaving behind only a bag of machine-gun bullet casings.
There was an unpleasant incident: Chino came to tell me that Ñato had roasted and eaten a whole piece of meat in front of him; I was furious with Chino because it was his job to stop him, but after investigating further, things got complicated because it was hard to tell whether or not Chino had authorized the act. He asked to be replaced and I put Pombo in charge again, but this was a bitter pill for Chino.
In the morning, the radio reported that Barrientos claimed that I have been dead for some time; it was all propaganda, and at night it was reported that he was offering 50,000 pesos (US$4,200) for information leading to my capture, dead or alive. The armed forces apparently gave him a [illegible in the original]. Leaflets were distributed in the area, probably with my description. Requeterán4 says that Barrientos’s offer could be considered a psychological maneuver, since the tenacity of the guerrilla force is well known and they are preparing for a long war.
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.
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!
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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 alone 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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Altitude = 1,400 meters.
Day of anguish, and for a moment it seemed it would be our last.
Water was fetched at dawn and Inti and Willy left right away to explore another possible way into the canyon, but they returned immediately because a track runs across the hill ahead of us and a peasant on a horse was traveling along it. At 10:00, 46 soldiers went past in front of us, carrying backpacks, and it seemed like centuries for them to move on. At 12:00, another group made its appearance, this time with 77 men; to top it off, a shot was heard at that moment, and the soldiers took their positions; the officer gave the order to go down into the ravine that seemed to be where we were, but after communicating by radio, he seemed satisfied to resume the march.
Our refuge has no defense against an attack from above and the possibilities of escaping are remote if they discover us. Later a lagging soldier passed by dragging an exhausted dog, trying to get it to walk. Later on, a peasant came along, guiding a soldier who had fallen behind; the peasant returned after a while, and although nothing happened the anguish at the moment the shot was fired was considerable. All the soldiers carried their backpacks, which gives the impression that they are withdrawing, and we did not see any fires at the little house during the evening, nor did we hear the shots they usually fire as a night salute. Tomorrow we will spend all day exploring the settlement. A light rain soaked us but was probably insufficient to erase our tracks.
The radio announced the identification of Coco, and gave a confused report about Julio; Miguel was mixed up with Antonio, describing his responsibilities in Manila. At first they ran a news item about my death; later this was retracted.
Another tense day. The scouts, Inti and Aniceto, went off early to watch the house all day. From early on there was activity on the road, and by mid-morning, there were soldiers without backpacks going in both directions, while more came up from below leading donkeys. The donkeys had no loads but returned with them. Inti arrived at 18:15 reporting that 16 soldiers who had gone down the hill were at the farm and could no longer be seen; the donkeys are apparently being loaded down there.
In view of this, it was difficult to make a decision about taking that route, the easiest and most logical option, but it was also easy for the soldiers to ambush us, and besides, the dogs in the house might give us away. Tomorrow we will conduct two more scouting expeditions: one will go to the same place and the other will try to get as far as possible along the ridge to see if there is a way out, probably by taking the same road used by the soldiers.
The radio broadcast no news.
Another day of tension. In the morning, Radio Balmaseda of Chile announced that highly placed sources in the army announced Che Guevara is cornered in a canyon in the jungle. The local stations are silent; this could be a betrayal and they are convinced about our presence in the area. In a while, the soldiers began moving back and forth. At 12:00, 40 soldiers went past in separate columns with their weapons at the ready, on their way to the little house where they set up camp and established a lookout with nervous guards.
Aniceto and Pacho reported this. Inti and Willy returned with the news that the Río Grande was about two kilometers away, as the crow flies, and that there are three houses above the canyon, and that there are places to camp where we would be hidden from every side. We went to find water, and at 22:00 began an exhausting night march, slowed down by Chino who walks very badly in the dark. Benigno is fine, but El Médico has not fully recovered.
It should have been a month of recuperation, and almost was, but the ambush in which Miguel, Coco, and Julio were killed ruined everything, and left us in a perilous position, losing León as well; losing Camba is a net gain.
We have had several small skirmishes: one in which we killed a horse; another in which we killed one soldier and wounded another; one where Urbano had a shoot-out with a patrol; and the disastrous ambush at La Higuera. Now we have abandoned the mules and I believe it will be a long time before we have animals like that again, unless I fall into another bad state of asthma.
On the other hand, there may be truth to the various reports about fatalities in the other [Joaquín’s] group, so we must consider them wiped out, although it is still possible there is a small group wandering around, avoiding contact with the army, because the news of the death of seven people at once might well be false, or at least, exaggerated.
The features are the same as last month, except that now the army is demonstrating more effectiveness in action and the peasant masses are not helping us with anything and are becoming informers.
The most important task is to escape and seek more favorable areas; then focus on contacts, despite the fact that our urban network in La Paz is in a shambles, where we have also been hit hard. The morale of the rest of the troops has remained fairly high, and I only have doubts about Willy, who might take advantage of some commotion to escape, if he is not spoken to first.
1.Honorato Rojas.
2.Dr. Hugo Lozano, Bolivian, a stomatologist and member of the urban network.
3.A place with chuchío—a species of hollowed cane similar to the willow or bamboo.
4.Army Colonel Luis Reque Terán.
5.Cuban expression meaning “word of mouth” or “grapevine.”