In this part, Our two main characters, Manuel, Hector, and their new friend, Enrique, have had a very short basic military training and are about to board a tramp steamer heading to Cuba.
The Rio Escondido’s motors started. It began shaking and complaining and then pushed off from the long pier passing the other boats. The ship traveled all night. The men had to sleep on the rusty old deck. It was cold food because there were barrels of aviation gas and ammo crates on the deck, and therefore, no fires allowed, even by the crew.
In the light of the morning, Sergeant Jimenez said, “All right, men, it’s time for light weapons training and firing. Let’s get a rope on one of those fifty-five gallon drums, and throw the drum over the side. We are going to have a class on firing a handgun and an automatic weapon.”
They spent the morning learning to disassemble, clean, load, and fire a .45 pistol and a submachine gun. They ultimately sank all four fifty-five gallon drums. That was the extent of light weapons training, and all five of the sergeant’s men passed with flying colors.
They arrived at the rendezvous point late that evening and found the other five ships were already there. All had come in from different directions to avoid any suspicion. They all entered the Bay of Pigs, the Rio Escondido last. Most of them went straight for the Blue Beach at the start of the bay. Two of the ships continued on to the Red Beach which was the farthest inland part of the bay.
The sun was rising as Castro’s planes appeared, a Sea Fury and a B-26. They dived at and attacked two of the boats at the Red Beach. After the one pass they then went on to shoot at the boats at the Blue Beach.
These two planes were met with a continuous fire from all of the boats with .50 caliber machine guns. This concentrated fire brought down the B-26.
The guys could see one of their C-54’s go over with the paratroopers. At that time a Cuban T-33 came in for a strafing* run on the boats and again the concentrated .50 caliber fire brought that plane down.
Sergeant Jimenez came over. “I don’t know if you guys are accustomed to praying. But whether you are or aren’t, this might be a good time. See those two landing craft heading our way. We’re going in just as soon as they get here…Manuel?”
Manuel thought to himself, the Sarge means for me to pray. I’ve never done this before. I wish I had paid more attention at the Masses I attended with Mama.
“Manuel?” the Sarge said again, suggesting.
Miguel cleared his throat and started, “Jesus, please be with us, guide and protect us. Vaya con Dios.* Amen.”
The two LCUS (landing Craft) came along side the Rio Escondido.
All the leaders yelled. “Get your gear, and get into those boats.”
All five of the guys did just that together with the rest of the men. They already had their heavy and light weapons and ammo loaded up. Before they knew it they were on the shore, courtesy of the Brigade frogmen who had cleared and marked the way earlier. While they were unloading to the beach from the UCUS, a Sea Fury attacked the Rio Escondido, and a rocket hit the 55 gallon drums of aviation fuel. The hold had 20 tons of explosives in it. The Rio Escondido exploded in a huge fireball, shaking the entire area.
Sergeant Jimenez yelled, “Get off the beach! Move inland. Hold it, you guys, they want us to help on Red Beach. Load up on that truck, and go with it along the beach road to the Red Zone. They need a heavy weapons team. The paratroops over there were dropped all over the swamp. I have to stay here. Good luck, men!”
All five guys threw their gear in and climbed up into the back of one of the armored 2 1/2 ton trucks. As they headed down the beach they could see the 4th Battalion heading inland to San Blass.
It was a bumpy and grinding trip up the beach road, at first a mile or so of a wide asphalt single-lane and then a mix of sand and crushed coral. It seemed more like eighty miles. Every time a Castro plane, or any plane for that matter dived at a boat or flew overhead, they pulled off the road to look inconspicuous. They came up to a group of men.
Enrique said, “These are 2nd Battalion guys, mostly infantry.”
“Boy, are we glad to see you guys,” their commander said. “We are having some trouble getting our guys and equipment in. We’re heading inland trying to link up with the paratroops. But I’m afraid they were dropped off target. They're all over the swamp. That means we’re on our own. Go on up the road inland with the truck and equipment. Check with my men setting up defensive positions. They are all strung out. But go up about a mile. Look for a First Lieutenant. He will set you up.”
“Yes sir!” Enrique said as he saluted.
“Son, you can dispense with saluting officers. Might be snipers about.”
“Yes sir!” Enrique got back into the truck. They headed up the rough one-lane, asphalt road. Occasionally they passed men moving up on the sides. Manuel noted that the swamp grew right up to the road. It was very thick with large trees.
The guys in the back heard Enrique say, “There he is, the tall guy right there, talking to those men. Stop here, and I’ll run over.”
The lieutenant was showing some men a map and pointing up towards the bend in the road.
“Excuse me sir,” Enrique started to salute but stopped short.
“Yes corporal.”
“The commander, the major at the beach, told me to report to you with my heavy weapons team. A bazooka and a 57 mm Recoilless, Sir.”
“Great! We were just going to protect this bend in the road. Now I can move up with my men. Call your team over.”
Enrique waved to his team, and they hurried over.
“Listen up men,” the lieutenant said, “You guys will stay put here as an ambush if we have to retreat. You’re our anchor. We’ll call you forward if we get too far ahead and need for you to move up and then reset. Right now there should be paratroopers up ahead. But we can’t find any.”
“Corporal, set up the .57 on the outside of the curve. It will be point-blank if Castro’s machines come around the curve. Bazooka inside of the curve, this side. Aim for the tank treads. We’re counting on you guys to stop them if they get by us or push us back.”
Yes sir!” they all said.
He waved for the truck to pull up and jumped up on the running board, and the truck eased forward. The staff members who were with the lieutenant climbed in the back together with some men who had come up. They disappeared around the bend.
Enrique said, “Men dig in, set up right there. Aim for the center of the road at the curve, and get everything organized.”
“Yes sir!” the four said as the dirt began to fly.
Enrique walked up to the bend in the road to have a look. It wandered kind of straight with a slight rise. Then the large swamp trees hid the road. He noticed that it was getting dark.
Enrique walked back to where the guys were setting up. “Men, eat something, and rest. Every two hours wake up the next man and he will take my place at the bend in the road. Hector, Manuel, John and Sam.”
It was after 24 hours (12 at night). “Hector, I hear something in the swamp,” Manuel said softly.
“Hun? Shhh listen, hear it?” he slowly rolled over for his .45.
There was a loud snap...rustle
“What is the password?” Manuel asked.
Hector answered. “Each number of the Brigade, separately.”
Manuel said out loud. “2,5,0,6.”
They both listened.
Hector said very quietly, “They must answer, Havana.”
From the Author: My second full-length book , Florida Keys’ Watercolor Kapers is composed of 336 pages. There are 12 stories running from 6 pages to as many as 72 pages. It is fully illustrated with 88 watercolors and sketches. The watercolors I made roaming around Key West after I finished my 750 mile hike from Georgia to Key West. (See book or Don Browne’s SouthWest Florida Online News records, A Walk Across Florida.) As you read these stories you will experience Key West, the Keys, and the Caribbean. These stories span the time of the early 1800’s to 1969. bkranich.wixsite.com/bobkranich
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