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Show would hear the shuffling sounds of I the guards aa they came to my cell to take me before the firing squad. Then I would awake from my fitful sleep and realize I had dreamed the noises. But at 5 a.m., July 7, 190, 1 heard the noises again and this time.it was not a dream. , I could sense the eyes of the, other prisoners as guards took position on each side and marched me outside. No one spoke. In the neit two, hours I would notice that both Victims and executioners ; had difficulty in speaking. I takenwas Handcuffed, tp the officers' mess in La Cabana . Fortress, next, to famed Monro ' He heard the Mmmand, Mftepare...aim-.;.fire!,Then he saw the flash from rifles pointed at him in a historic death pit. No stranger story has come from i ' Castle in Havana. Standing there beneath banners proclaiming the Castro Revolution was Capt whose family Moises Sio Wong, a Chinese-Cuba- n operated a restaurant neatjpy parents' home. We knew each other, but neither of us made any sign of recognition. I waited, burning with fever and aching with hours the beatings I had taken. Twenty-fou- r before, two fellow, prisoners had 'been marched out of my cell to the firing squad, lien more than a hour passed and we heard nothing, we had thought, They will not kill u after all. It is only a bluff. Then shots echoed from. El Foso de los Laureles. and' we knew the Communists ' .C' were- uoi 1.1. x j uiuuiug. .. ' El Foso de los Laureles is a pit in the prison courtyard where the Spaniards executed Cuban had puf it patriots in the back into use, and already Captain Wong reportedly had killed 200 prisoners there. On two sides are towering rocks, grass, and flowers; on one side, an entrance for the firing squads-- ; and on the fourth side, the stone wall against which the prisoners suna. At 6:25 an expressionless army captain took over from Wong and led me downstairs to El T ...... J- - - T . V '. if you wish," he said. I couldnt speak." so I shook my head. Fever was making me faint, but I finally managed to whisper: "The handcuffs take them off." He refused. Three' soldiers inarched me to the wall and left me there.- Hew vividly 1 recall the somm! 'About 25 soldiers surrounded the firing squad. Eight men made up the squad; seven carried' Garand rifles, and one had a carbine with a-magazine. The captain carried a Thompson submachine gun under his arm. At his side was the 45 pistol he would use for the coup de grot. He shouted orders. "Preeepare . . The squad snapped the rifles up. I heard the bolts slam cartridges into the chambers. "Take aimmmm . . ." The rifles steadied on me. I could not close my eyes. There was a long moment a deliberately cruel long moment I Cuba than: ' 'I1.! ( V ; ; Firing i n -- T l- - V D- fgjj Castro g ." . 11 . m V L nmrv nimnr as told to Jack Ryan V'A-jf- 1 ri m All m 1 . W m m F,J- w J m aWJ. m " ."'BjB-f- c, m mi m 1 i. IV WsS wrr tW Iw mr Vrf WV ikii fl w A i. w .w r mi ft - l. .in' 'Mil PlsR -- . My ordeal began in late June when several members of my counterrevolutionary cell were arrested. From that time on, I lived from moment to moment, knowing an informer was in our ranks. But who? And when would he report me? With time, I might escape Cuba, but time ran out on June 80. I entered our apartment and found my wife sitting in the living room in stiff terror. Machine-gu- n toting members of 2 (military intelligence) were sitting with her. "Naval Ensign .Julio Peres? Where have you G-- 4 Family Weekly, November 7, 1965 !OC) ILLUSTRATION IT TOM QUINN |