Ameijeiras was one of the 82 revolutionaries who, led by Fidel Castro, took part in the Granma expedition in December 1956 to initiate the revolutionary war against the U.S.-backed Batista regime. He finished the war as a commander of Rebel Army Column 6 and second in command of the Second Eastern Front under Raúl Castro.

After the January 1959 revolutionary victory, the entire repressive apparatus of the old capitalist regime, including the hated police, was dismantled. A Revolutionary National Police was organized as an institution to help defend the new workers and farmers government. Ameijeiras was named head of the police, which was drawn primarily from Rebel Army combatants.

In 1963 Ameijeiras led a column of Cuban volunteer combatants to Algeria to help stop a U.S.-backed Moroccan assault on the Algerian Revolution; the presence of the Cuban troops forced the Moroccan regime to back down. In 1984 he served an internationalist combat mission in Angola to help that nation defend itself from attack by the apartheid regime of South Africa. Ameijeiras is currently a division general in Cuba’s Revolutionary Armed Forces.

The excerpts below are taken from a four-part series of articles titled "Girón: The Shortest Battle" published in July 1989 in the Cuban weekly magazine Bohemia. Ameijeiras says in an introduction that these articles were "initial notes to write a book presenting that historic date in its full dimension."

The following excerpts are from the first two articles in the series. Next week the Militant will run excerpts from the concluding parts. The translation and subtitles are by the Militant.
 

The idea of forming a regular combat unit with police officers came about much earlier. Eighty percent of the police force was made up of Rebel Army combatants with guerrilla experience, mainly from the Frank País Second Eastern Front. Since many of the police were illiterate, I assigned a large group of them to the police school, which we moved from Havana to a farm called El Pitirre. More than 100 combatants were there, raising their level of schooling, taking political education, judo, and other classes.
 

One day, when I was traveling with Fidel, I told him I had more than one company at the police school and that a good combat unit could be constituted if he gave me some FAL rifles--Fidel had already given me 200 FALs for the special troops at the headquarters. I assured him this new unit could be of great value.

As always, Fidel upped the ante: "Why don’t you form a battalion with the best officers and sergeants?" That’s how the idea of the police battalion was born. It had five heavy companies, all of them with FALs and some Czech submachine guns, and BZ tripod machine guns. He also gave us a company of antitank and antipersonnel grenades to use with the FALs. We also had a squad with 82 mm. mortars, and I could add the two M-8 armored personnel carriers that the police had.

In summary, the battalion had five heavy companies with 156 men each, one light company with 105 men, and another to launch grenades with FALs, as well as a mortar squad and the staff officers. Their mission was to defend the perimeter of the city and rapidly counter any attack on police stations or any other target.

In late 1960, the battalion underwent brief military training at the Managua base, mainly in handling antitank weapons and the accompanying mortars. In December of that year, it occupied the Castillo del Príncipe [in Havana] to head off a possible [counterrevolutionary] attack by paratroopers or helitroopers on the Plaza of the Revolution itself. During the opening days of January, it was placed in ambush position along the Malecón seafront road with a dozen of the Rebel Army’s antitank cannon. Throughout March and April, the battalion operated in the northern part of Las Villas province against the first bands of insurgents near Sagua and Corralillo. Later, part of the battalion left to operate in the area of Yaguajay, where we were expecting a landing in support of the insurgents. We returned with the battalion within days of the battle of Girón, and we stationed it in the hills of El Esperón, close to Havana, where they could set up camp and have military, cultural, and political instruction.
 

At around midnight I go to El Carmelo, the nicest cafe in Havana. I run into Commander Raúl Díaz Argüelles.... At 2:30 a.m., Argüelles leaves for home and I head toward police headquarters. I leave the guards and take off alone in my car, but they don’t say anything to me, because the one time they dared to follow me secretly, I read them the riot act. I’m not feeling well. I can’t figure out why I’m feeling so nostalgic and anxious. I go to the Reverbero neighborhood to be, as [Cuban independence leader José] Martí would say, with the poor of the earth. I sit down on the park bench across the street and, oddly enough, there is no one there to talk with about times past.

A passerby recognizes me and looks at me in amazement, perhaps thinking, "The chief of the National Police, alone in a park!" I always thought it was easier to replace a police chief than to kill him. Happiness must be doing the little things we want to do, and maybe that’s why duty and power are sometimes a curse. Jesus, with the hatred I always had for the police, who would have thought that I would end up being its chief.

We have to form a new police force that the entire people will care for.
 

I run to the north side of the building and look out at the coast. I hear the sound of a plane as if it were flying over my head, but I don’t see it. I don’t know what’s happening or whether it’s only a bombing attack. There is no phone to call headquarters.

I remember that the President of the Republic [Osvaldo Dorticós] lives on the corner, and I look out the window. I see some of the soldiers from his garrison at their battle stations. I go down to join them in preparation for a possible land attack, because everything is confusion at the time.

In the car I turn on the radio and call headquarters. They tell me police patrols have reported a bombing at Ciudad Libertad. I tell myself, "Damn them, they’re barbaric, they have no shame, dropping bombs on downtown Havana."

I instruct them to inform the police battalion, which is stationed at El Esperón. I also order them to send me the escort car to 62nd Street and 1st Avenue in Miramar. I am struck by the stance of the President of the Republic, who is dressed as a militia member and is carrying a FAL rifle.
 

I’m headed for Point 1 when I hear further explosions in the direction of Ciudad Libertad. Trucks loaded with ammunition have caught fire. On arriving we see Fidel there. Sergio tells me they’ve seen the bombing from there. Fidel calls the San Antonio de los Baños Air Base, the largest one in the country. He learns then that they’ve bombed there too. Subsequently, a clearer picture of the situation begins to emerge. There have been simultaneous attacks by B-26 bombers on three airports in Cuba: the civilian airport in Santiago de Cuba, by two planes; the San Antonio de los Baños Air Base, by three planes; and the Ciudad Libertad airport, by two planes.

Fidel explains to us that this can be nothing other than the prelude to an invasion. The attack has been so surprising and quick that our pilots have had no time to pursue them, but the antiaircraft units do a great job of responding to the invasion and manage to shoot down one B-26 and damage another. I head over to the headquarters to take the necessary measures. I’m thinking that the land attack might come at any time.
 

At the University of Havana, we carry out a night-long wake over the remains of the compañeros who died in the brutal attack. Morning came and the burial is prepared. Nothing is happening. It seems like the quietest Sunday we’ve ever had in the country. Our air force patrols the skies that morning to guard the procession. The funeral cortege completely fills 23rd Street up to 12th Street, where Fidel is to speak. We march silently, compactly. The streets, sidewalks, and balconies are filled with people. We walk apprehensively on a multicolored carpet of flowers that fall from all around. Where had they gotten so many flowers?

In the afternoon Fidel gives his historic speech, where he proclaims the socialist character of the revolution. He calls President Kennedy "María Ramos’s pussycat, who throws a stone and hides its hand,"² when at the United Nations they [U.S. officials] try to convince people that the bombers had defected from Cuba. He concludes by saying that they were furious because we had made a socialist revolution right under their very nose, and he explains that if these attacks are the prelude to an invasion, then the entire people will be prepared to rise up as one in order to turn it back. He couldn’t have been more emphatic and accurate, since the invaders’ ships were already sailing toward Cuba. That very Saturday afternoon, the First Secretary of the Party in the USSR [Nikita Khrushchev] offers his support to the revolution.

Strangely, nothing has happened that day. Even the cat is expecting the invasion. I go to bed that night wondering if they have given up on the war.

I wake up early.... I just drink my coffee and leave for Point 1.  
 
April 17
When I arrive everything is aboil. Nobody has to say a word for me to surmise that the moment has come. I’m glad my daughter’s crying woke me up early. "It seems there’s a landing at Playa Girón," Sergio tells me calmly. But everything is still dark. The landing at Playa Girón has been fully confirmed, but the precise scope of the attack on Playa Larga is still not known.

Fidel contacts the San Antonio Air Base and orders [air force chief] Raúl Curbelo to get the planes ready.

He speaks personally with Capt. [Enrique] Carreras, the pilot who is to lead the squadron toward Girón. He tells him to try to attack only the ships, and to fight against other planes or infantry troops only if attacked by them. He stresses, "Carreras, try to sink the ships for me."
 

After our planes return victoriously that morning, Fidel predicts, "That’s where the bulk of the invaders are. Now we don’t need to stop them from landing--we have to wipe them out immediately, giving them no time to consolidate a beachhead." Fidel was doing a tremendous amount of work in his head that day. In addition to working out the strategic conception to combat the operation, he also paid attention to tactical details in every direction. I saw him taking big strides and rolling around the cigar butt in his mouth.
 

At 7:00 a.m. Carreras takes off again, this time flying a Sea Fury with two bombs, eight rockets, and four 22 mm. cannon. At the Bay of Pigs he once again spots the Houston, which has run aground near the coast. He sees they are unloading supplies. At that moment, while he was distractedly looking at the ship, he is surprised by two B-26s from above. They fire on him with machine guns. Carreras reacts quickly, and abruptly makes a tight turn to face his attackers with the nose of his plane. To avoid a collision, the B-26s fan out from right to left. Carreras immediately reverses his turn, sets his sights on one of the B-26s, and fires on it with his four 20 mm. cannon. He set its engine on fire. The B-26 tries to protect itself by flying in the direction of the ships, which help by firing on the attacker, forcing him to shoot up like an arrow to elude the reach of the antiaircraft guns.

Perhaps Carreras didn’t know he had planted the seeds of the Cuban Air Force in his solitary heart that day, but he did know Fidel had told him that attacking the enemy’s transport vessels would be enough for the seed to germinate. That’s why, after the B-26 fell to the water, he pounced on the other ships as fast as lightning. He picked one of the largest in one group, the Río Escondido. Carreras was going so fast he had the sensation of a huge ship coming right into his eyes. But he understood he could not fail, and as he came very close to the ship he pushed the button of death. The eight rockets hit the ship’s hold. There was a horrendous explosion and the plane seemed to be crashing into it.

To avoid the shock waves, Carreras had to yank furiously on the throttle until he reached a force of 7 Gs, which felt like being pulled by 10 crazed elephants. During the violent climb, the motor suddenly started spewing smoke and the plane shook like a wounded beast. As he kept losing altitude, he was supposed to head toward base and parachute-jump before the engine exploded in air. But since this was the day the Cuban Air Force was meant to be born, Carreras decided to continue flying with the engine failing and the plane losing altitude. He knew there weren’t many planes or spare parts. That Sea Fury was worth more than his life. Unaware that the ship he had sunk was the Río Escondido, the most important one in the invasion, he was now trying to save his nearly ruined plane. Who says that a man of average height, married, with children, flying in a rickety plane, can’t make it to base?

At less than 150 kilometers per hour, nearly grazing the treetops, he landed on the runway at San Antonio de los Baños. At the last second, before touching down, he turned off the fuel ignition and electrical equipment. He felt as if he were stopping at different places on the runway. When he came to a stop, the mechanics ran over to him and said, "Captain, how did you manage to get here?" The submachine gun had destroyed the engine’s first cylinder. No one could figure out how he could have landed in those conditions.

The Río Escondido sank to the bottom of the bay along with the main supplies for the brigade. There was such panic among the mercenary flotilla that they headed out to sea and never came back.
 

I leave Point 1 that morning after learning of our initial success in the air. I stop by all the stations. I’m talking like never before, haranguing the police and militias everywhere. Everywhere I go, the applause is rousing and the slogan "Death to the invader!" is repeated with conviction, willingness to fight, and faith in the struggle. When I return to Point 1 in the mid-afternoon, Sergio tells me Fidel has left for the Australia sugar mill. I remain at Point 1 until midnight. Then I go to get a little sleep at police headquarters. First I take a walk through Havana, and I feel certain this is a city under siege awaiting its moment. We are still unaware of how many mercenaries have landed. Judging from the resistance they’re putting up at Playa Larga with artillery and tanks, there must be a lot of them. Havana couldn’t have been any calmer. The boys in the police battalion are eager to fight. I don’t know what Fidel must be thinking. Will there be further landings? Not according to Fidel!  
 
April 18
On the first day of the battle, Fidel fights tenaciously to keep the enemy from establishing a beachhead. On the second day, he critically analyzes the new situation in his usual dialectical way. He says the fight will now be to keep the enemy from re-boarding its ships. In other words, he considers them completely defeated. Around 6:00 a.m. on April 18 at Point 1, Fidel puts his hand on my shoulder and says, "I have a very important mission for you. You guys are tough and you can do it." It’s the same order he had given to part of the 123rd Battalion the day before, and to the 111th Battalion that same night--to support the mission by Special Column No. 2 commanded by Capt. Roger García.

He tells me, "We have to isolate the enemy between Playa Larga and Playa Girón. You must advance up to Pálpite in trucks and turn left from there toward Soplillar, almost up to Jiquí. Then, with local peasants as guides, take footpaths and tracks, and turn right toward the coast to get to a midpoint between Playa Larga and Playa Girón, where you should set up an ambush on both sides of the highway and divide it into two sections, with one ambush toward Girón and the other one toward Playa Larga."

He adds that I shouldn’t carry the mortars or heavy machine guns, since he will reinforce me with a bazooka company. He also orders Osmany [Cienfuegos] to give me two militia companies from the 116th Battalion.

I tell Commander Argüelles to go get the police battalion at El Esperón and gather them at the patrol car lot in Havana for immediate departure. I know it will take a long time for the entire battalion to get there. More than two hours pass, and only a couple of companies have arrived. A little while later come the light companies of the 116th Battalion, which have been added to our force. It is taking so long that I tell Samuel [Rodiles] to stay and wait for the rest of the battalion and then go with them to the Australia sugar mill, where he will receive instructions from me.
 
 
Footnotes
 
1. On April 15, 1961, as a prelude to an imminent invasion of Cuba planned by the Kennedy administration, eight planes piloted by U.S.-organized mercenaries launched simultaneous bombing raids against the airfields of Santiago de Cuba, San Antonio de los Baños, and Havana. In their unsuccessful attempt to destroy Cuba’s handful of combat aircraft on the ground, the attackers used Pentagon-supplied B-26 bombers bearing counterfeit insignia of Cuba’s Revolutionary Air Force.

In the early morning hours of April 17 the invasion force landed at the Bay of Pigs. After almost 72 hours of hard combat, the main group of counterrevolutionaries surrendered on April 19, 1961.

2. An expression for someone who does something and then tries to pretend they didn’t.  
 
 
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