A tall, beautiful, dark-haired young woman dressed in a flattering, figure-hugging white linen nightgown opened the door. She was coiffed as if she were going to a dress ball. Before her was Pilar, who stood with the bearing of a soldier but was in desperate need of a bath, her hair straggly and askew, her backpack thrown over her shoulder. If Pilar had not been so obviously pregnant, the woman might have assumed she was a boy.
“You must be Pilar,” said the woman in the nightgown warmly. “I’m Consuela, Camilo’s unacknowledged half-sister. Welcome to your new home. Please come in.”
Looking her hostess up and down, Pilar said in a voice rendered meek by exhaustion, “You look like him, without the beard.”
Without missing a beat, Consuela replied, “Well, to avoid confusion, I shaved mine this morning, just for you. Now let me feed you.” A housekeeper materialized and took Pilar’s backpack.
Pilar could already tell that she was going to like Consuela. She had more than a family resemblance to Camilo; she also had his quick wit and irreverent sense of humor and was apparently only a few years older than Pilar.
“I’m more tired than I am hungry—been traveling all night.” said Pilar, running her fingers through her grimy hair. “Do you think I could take a bath? I’ve been dreaming about doing that for months.”
“Of course, sweetie, welcome back to civilization,” Consuela said with a laugh.
Consuela led Pilar up the center staircase to the guest room and showed her the room, where her backpack had been placed at the foot of the bed.
As Pilar carefully unpacked her gun and placed it on the dresser, Consuela proceeded into the adjacent bathroom and drew a bath for Pilar.
Pilar entered the bathroom and began removing her filthy clothes. She was aware of Consuela’s eyes taking in the sight of her body as she disrobed and awkwardly slid into the warm water of the tub.
“Before I go downstairs let me help you to do something for your hair,” Consuela volunteered.
Consuela produced a bottle of Breck shampoo, and gently at first and then more vigorously as the knots began to give way, worked the sudsy bubbles into her hair.
Dropping a cake of Ivory soap into the tub, Consuela said, “Here is a hair brush, some towels and a robe for you. If you feel a need to keep your gun with you, I think you’ll find it fits easily into the pocket of the robe.”
After drying off, Pilar dressed in the clean clothes Consuela had left on the bed for her. She was amazed at the variety of choices. While she was bathing, Consuela told Pilar that Aleida March, Che Guevera’s girlfriend, stayed with her briefly a few months before. Aleida, who wanted to travel light when she departed, had left the clothes telling Consuela to use them to advance the cause. Pilar put on a navy blue knee length skirt which she left unbuttoned at the waist and covered it with a Bambi-themed smock that was a nice maternity top and a good match for her running shoes, After an approving look at herself in the full length mirror, a happy Pilar went downstairs and joined her hostess at the kitchen table. Consuela had laid out a feast of Arroz con Pollo, shredded chicken with yellow rice garnished with green peas and red pimentos, accompanied by sweet plantains. The aroma wafted through the air. It was a welcome change from the relentless diet of red or black beans Pilar had subsisted on in the mountains.
Pilar attacked the bountiful meal.
“You’ve got quite a reputation, you know,” Consuela said. “Is it true what they say, that you saved my brother’s life?”
“I heard something I shouldn’t have and I felt that I had to do something, and so I did,” Pilar said. “Consuela, I have a question for you. What did you mean by “unacknowledged half-sister?”
“It’s a somewhat sordid story that turns out happy in the end. Camilo’s father strayed off the reservation one night and got my mother pregnant. She never told him, and Camilo and I grew up not knowing each other even existed. As a young woman, I met Camilo in a night club in Havana. We were both so struck by our strong resemblance to each other that we pieced together the facts of our relationship. He calls me “sister” and I call him “brother,” but officially we are not related.
“Pilar dear, I’m very grateful, and proud that Camilo sent you to me.”
The two women ate in silence for several minutes. In her fifth month of pregnancy, Pilar had not realized how starved she was for a full meal.
Consuela broke the silence. “The baby, if I may ask. Is it Camilo’s?”
Pilar hesitated before answering. “Yes, it is,” she said, as she thought that she was sorry to lie, but it was preferable to the truth at this point in time.
Over the coming days, Pilar and Consuela fell into a routine. They spent their mornings making revolutionary posters and leaflets that were picked up every few days by a rebel carrier. The material was being distributed in nearby Santa Clara and also in Havana. Throughout the fall, they received periodic reports that the revolutionaries were moving across Cuba, toward Yaguajay.
The two were often joined for dinner by Consuela’s friend, Martina, who ran the local brothel. Martina seemed to know half of the men who had been in the rebel camp. Surprisingly, she also talked openly of the Batista soldiers she knew. It became clear over the course of a few dinners that she was an important part of Cienfuegos’s spy network. Martina dubbed Pilar “the pregnant tigress of the Sierra Maestra,” which Pilar found amusing.
One night, Consuela and Martina worked their way through two bottles of wine during dinner. Pilar had a few sips, but something about her pregnancy had thrown off her taste for any alcoholic beverages.
When Martina was tired of telling stories about the men she knew, she entertained Consuela with tales of her romantic escapades with the beautiful women in her brothel. Pilar felt uncomfortable and quietly stood up and went upstairs. The two women didn’t seem to notice her leave. She peeled her dress off over her head and fell onto her bed. She remembered how frustrating sexual life became in a mountain camp containing intense young men and a few young women who might soon die in battle.
Pilar’s thoughts were interrupted when Consuela entered her bedroom and said, “Martina just left.”
“I would have thought she’d be here in your bed tonight,” Pilar said.
“Has never happened, never will,” answered Consuela. “Martina is a good person, a good friend; she just needs to dominate people. She achieves that by sensing their needs.”
“Did she satisfy your needs?” Pilar asked.
Consuela smiled and turned to leave the room without answering.
Pilar reached out. “Please don’t leave me,” she said.
Consuela returned and sat on the bed, facing her. The two women moved toward one another until their lips met.
Pilar could feel her heart beating faster. She was surprised at how she could feel so excited and so comfortable at the same time. Consuela was gentle, allowing Pilar to set the tempo as they held each other, their lips caressing and tongues exploring. She moved down, intuitively finding a spot on Pilar’s neck with her mouth that made Pilar shiver in ecstasy, Consuela’s warm, moist breath brushing against her skin.
Consuela moved her hands to Pilar’s inner thighs and pushed them apart. Pilar spread her legs, and Consuela moved down, burying her head into the open space she had just created. Pilar had never felt so desired, so in sync with another human being.
Consuela spent the night in Pilar’s bed, where they fell asleep in each other’s arms. It was the first of many nights that the two women slept together. During the day they never talked about their relationship or their nocturnal sexual pleasures. There did not seem to be any need to. They both had what they wanted and took comfort in satisfying each other.
The Rebels Advance
BY EARLY DECEMBER of 1958, Castro’s forces were sweeping across the country in a massive offensive in the wake of their near defeat in the mountains. Not only had they escaped during the ceasefire, but they had also taken many of the Cuban military’s weapons with them. Th
e revolutionaries had since divided into three columns commanded by Cienfuegos, Che, and a trusted Castro lieutenant named Jaime Vega.
The three columns advanced out of Oriente Province and into the farmlands of the nearby Camaguey Province. Vega’s column, which was moving across the south, was ambushed and destroyed. But Cienfuegos and Che’s men, covering the middle and the northern part of the region, were able to advance. The Cuban military had retreated to the well-fortified barracks at Yaguajay and the city of Santa Clara in an effort to hold them.
As Cienfuegos’ men advanced, their ranks swelled as men left farms, villages, and towns to join the revolution. But with their numbers growing, so did the need for guns and ammunition, as well as food. Much of the food was provided by the farms they crossed. The farmers had heard Castro’s speeches on Radio Rebelde and were lining up to help the rebels. In the outskirts of Yaguajay, a column led by Raúl Castro stopped a cargo train loaded with arms that were headed for the nearby Cuban Army barracks. The captured train was a crucial benefit to the rebels, as it rearmed them and deprived the Batista Army of badly needed ammunition.
Yaguajay itself was in a state of flux. The Cuban military was gathering in the well-fortified barracks to figure out how to hold off the rebels. Yet, at the same time, the revolutionary underground aided by Martina, Consuela, and Pilar stayed put and waited for their armed compatriots to come rolling into town.
All the information pointed to Cienfuegos and his column taking the Cuban Army barracks and the city.
Cienfuegos and his men reached Yaguajay sometime around December 19. They attacked the key army barracks located on the edge of the city. In order to take the city, the rebels would need to capture the barracks commanded by the highly capable and experienced Captain, Abon Lee.
Though the post had only a few hundred men, a fierce firefight ensued. The rebels repeatedly advanced only to be repulsed. Many lives were lost. Captain Lee expected reinforcement and resupply from Havana that never came. Finally, without water, food, electricity, or ammunition, he was forced to surrender on December 30, 1958.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Yaguajay erupted in celebration on the night of the rebels’ resounding victory. Pilar’s belly looked like it was holding a beach ball, as she was overdue by almost two weeks, so she and Consuela stayed home. They were on edge, awaiting news that Camilo had not been injured. They sat up, Pilar drinking tea and Consuela swirling the same glass of red wine, talking of the future.
Just before midnight, there was a commotion at the front door. Consuela rushed to the door and opened it. Standing in front of her flanked by several armed men was her half-brother. He had a long beard and was covered in soot, and he was wearing a big smile on his face.
“Camilo!” Consuela shouted. “You have done it!”
She gave him a bear hug. “Long live the Revolution,” he said.
The two heard Pilar calling out from the other room. They turned the corner and entered the living room. Pilar had fully reclined on the couch and was breathing heavily.
“She’s having the baby!” Consuela shouted.
Cienfuegos rushed to Pilar’s side. He brushed the sweaty strands of hair from her forehead and put a pillow under her head. “Good timing,” he said in his jovial way.
Pilar screamed as the baby began making its way into the world. Consuela called for the housekeeper, who appeared with several towels and large pan of hot water. The three of them had rehearsed the birth in the event they had to deliver the baby without help.
Cienfuegos moved in to help, but Consuela chastised him. “Back up Camilo! You are disgustingly dirty!”
The “major” took the order like a fresh-faced volunteer. For the first time in his adult life, he was completely out of his depth.
Consuela and the housekeeper positioned Pilar so the baby could come out. After a few more screams, the baby appeared.
“It’s a boy!” Consuela announced.
Cienfuegos smiled and slapped his thigh. “Of course it is. We will need him to help Che and me take Santa Clara at first light.”
Pilar, still in pain and profusely sweating, broke out in a tearful laugh.
With the help of the housekeeper, Consuela cut the umbilical cord and then cleaned off the baby. The housekeeper sat Pilar up. Consuela wrapped the boy in towels and handed him to Pilar.
Cienfuegos moved closer to Pilar. He looked at the baby and then at Pilar. Tears welled up in her eyes. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you for all you’ve done for me and our country.”
Cienfuegos leaned in and kissed Pilar on the forehead. Saying nothing, he turned and left the room, heading out to lead the Castro Revolution’s final push toward Havana.
The Revolution Succeeds
DECEMBER 31, 1958, was one of the most significant days in the history of Cuba. The two columns of revolutionary forces led by Camilo Cienfuegos and Che Guevara converged on the city of Santa Clara, where Batista’s forces had retreated to formulate a last-ditch plan to stop the revolutionaries. But Batista’s forces were outsmarted and outmanned, and they surrendered with few shots being fired.
Cienfuegos radioed Fidel Castro when Santa Clara was secure. Castro was with his column on the outskirts of Santiago, ready to attack the second largest city if necessary. He instructed Cienfuegos and Che to continue to Havana where Camilo was to take the fort known as Camp Columbia. It was surprising to some that Che was ordered to secure a smaller Army post at La Cabana.
That night, President Batista received word at the presidential palace that Santa Clara had fallen and Santiago was next. There was no hope for him. Castro’s 26th of July Movement had defeated the Cuban Army, leaving it so demoralized that trying to hold Havana was pointless and impossible. The Cuban president was told that the revolutionary forces would be at his doorstep by morning.
Batista’s rule of Cuba was finished for certain. He had already been told by US Ambassador Earl Smith that the US no longer supported his government. In that meeting, Batista had asked for permission to travel to a house he owned in Daytona Beach, Florida. On behalf of the US government, Smith denied his request.
At his New Year’s Eve party, Batista informed his top cabinet officials that he was leaving Cuba and that they should do the same to avoid being captured by the revolutionary forces. Hours later, around 3:00 a.m., Batista and his immediate family boarded a military plane and flew to the Dominican Republic. Another plane carrying several top government officials left shortly after Batista’s. Through various means, the overthrown Cuban president took with him hundreds of millions of dollars of art treasures, as well as an estimated $300 million in cash, a cash sum matched by other officials who looted the treasury on their way out of the country.
News of Batista fleeing and the collapse of his government hit the streets of Havana in the early morning hours of January 1, 1959. The New Year’s Eve revelers were out in full force, and the city plunged into celebratory chaos. Thousands of Cubans poured into the streets of old Havana, carrying champagne bottles and waving flags, rendering them impassable to vehicular traffic. Radios blasted, car horns blared, and the shouts of “Viva la Revolucion” rang out.
In the night of January 1–2, Cienfuegos and Che led their columns into Havana. They were greeted by the people as conquering heroes. There was no resistance from the military, as the Cuban commander in Havana had ordered his men to stand down. A military leader to the end, the commander formally surrendered Havana to Che. At the same time, having received word that the president had fled the country, the Cuban military forces in Santiago surrendered to Fidel Castro.
Castro’s handpicked choice to become the president of Cuba, Manuel Urrutia Lleó, returned from exile in Venezuela and assumed the presidency.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Late in the afternoon on January 2, a top aide to Cienfuegos delivered the news to Pilar and Consuela that the Batista government had fallen and that Cienfuegos and Che had taken control of Havana without incident. He also inform
ed the two women that Fidel Castro and the remaining revolutionaries were en route to Havana from Santiago and were expected to arrive in a week, when there was sure to be a rally. The aide’s orders from Cienfuegos were to bring Pilar and Consuela to Havana when Pilar felt comfortable traveling with the baby.
Though it had only been a matter of days since she had given birth, Pilar was feeling strong. As might be expected of Pilar, she thought long and hard about a name for the baby. Camilo had done so much for her, but it would be unfair to let the falsehood that he was the father become fixed in concrete. Alberto was such a good friend and comrade, but once again she felt it unfair to create a false implication of paternity. She would honor her dear father with a second name. For the first name she selected the name of a man who she greatly respected and admired, but who was such a perfect gentleman that no one would ever believe or even suspect he would have inappropriately had sex with a young girl under his command. That man was her former boss at GTMO, US Navy Lieutenant, Robert ‘Buzz” Holton.
Her son, Roberto Miguel, was eating almost nonstop and had a healthy glow about him. The revolution that she had risked her life for was victorious, and there was no way she was going to miss the party.
Consuela immediately began packing their suitcases. Consuela also sent for Doctor Crespo, a local physician who for a long time had designs on her that would never be fulfilled, to make the 248-mile journey to Havana with them.
Two days later, they were transported in a military truck that had been outfitted with a bed for Pilar. There still were isolated Cuban soldiers who hadn’t gotten the word that the war was over. The truck was escorted by an open cab truck with armed men in case of an ambush.
The Girl from Guantanamo Page 15
