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Show Family Weekly hidden ' your radio transmitter?" I pretended punched my body. Blood began rushing from my nose.'"Tell us about Mariel, and we will be merciI didn't know what they were talking about They ful. If not the firing squad." But I knew I couldn't searched me, then began on the apartment The deal with Communists. I shook my head, and two , bedroom and the kitchen. I then room, living soldiers pulled my arms tight behind me. Suarez's didnl dare look, at my wife. Concealed inside the - ; tt fists pounded my chest and abdomen. toaster was a .38 pistol and a radio transmitter, 2x3x4 inches. 4 used the steeples Sunday,' July 3, I was driven to La Cabana of a church facing Havana harbor as antennae Fortress' with other prisoners and locked in a and guided gunrunners past the coast guard to . former . officer's room with four- - others. Three rendezvous points on the north coast If the transdays later the first of our group was executed mitter were found, I would die that' night.' and at 6 p.m. that evening a guard opened the After two hours, the searchers gave up and door and shouted: "Perez, you are next. Do you took me to 2 headquarters, which. was located7 want a priest?" in a former bank building-- : When we arrived, I "Let me see my wife!" . . . "There is not time" went to open the car door, and a guard smashed . V. "Let me phone her!" . . . "No" . . . "My mother then. Somebody must know about me" . . . my ribs with his rifle butt They pushed me to a second-flovault and slammed the steel door be"There is not time. The priest Perez?" . . ."Yea!" hind me. The air conditioning had been turned The priest came but could not help me reach on full blast and I shook with cold. From a loud? my family. I scribbled a note to my wife and gave it to a seaman I had known before. His name was speaker, "The 26th of July March," Castro's j Rodriguez. "If you live," I said, "deliver this." I rallying music, blared deafeningly over and over. 'wanted somebody to know about Julio Perez and Early In Hie morning, the guards stripped me to pants and shirt and took me to another room, remember the date he died. Then night came, and " I listened to footsteps that were not there until steamy hot and blinding with light A Captain Su-- " 1 awoke to reality and death. arez and a lieutenant whose name I never learned began questioning me. "Why were you in Mariel? This is a coastal town near La Dominica, where, The captain's cruel pauso ended. "Fiiire!" I saw the flash from the rifles' muzzles and wisps at the time, mysterious construction was under of smoke. The flash was inordinately bright way. I had entered the security zone and photo-Nothing happened. For a moment life seemed graphed the construction, then turned the pic- tures over to an agent in a clandestine suspended, then thoughts ran through my mind, all unjoined. They have missed . . It's a dream meeting;--We thought the construction was for a -Russian submarine base; later we learned it was' Impossible They will fire again. Guards half carried me to the captain. As they to be a Russian missile site,,one of those which confrontation in Ocforced the American-Sovidid, 1 realized the significance of the bright ' flashes; The squad had used blanks, which carry tober, 1962.' . ; '"I go "to Mariel because it is near the naval v a larger powder charge. "Why haven't you killed me?" I asked. academy where I went Jto school,' I replied: I Still expressionless, the captain said: "They guessed they had only fragmentary information, . don't tell me these things. Ask Wong." .Then he so far. If I professed ignorance, I still might live., The interrogators were joined by Ramiro prepared for the next prisoner, this time with live bullets. will cmef he of wPerez," said, "you Valdes, ' In his office, Wong chatted as if nothing were tell us about Mariel. Also about the weapons you " " He recalled his'family and mine and the Havana." to unusual brought told me whof The) lost part startled mo-a- nd good days in Havana. He said I would have food and water then I would tell him about Mariel. the informer was. One night earlier that summer, V When I entered my cell, the other prisoners drew four of us had taken, a navyv truck to a coastal back in shock; I was indeed a ghost rendezvous point picked up weapons smuggled, from outside Cuba, and- driven them to the city.,1 By now, however, Rodriguez had broken down. ' He shouted hysterically to our guard: "Take me. ,Of the four, three were under arrest The fourth I'll tell all." The guard pulled him away, and we was. still free. He was a warrant officer I had never saw him again. trusted but who had been bribed to betray us. "I Tho nexf Mma I have nothing to say," I replied. Wong, he knew all the details from of our snatched a a not about my pictures but still Suarez bayonet plot Captain at La !" lashed back. and Dominica "Stand or rifle location the of our weapons. up my Springfield He cajoled me, then beat me. But I felt only I did, and he punched me in the stomach. I topsilence could buy me time. ... pled over, unconscious. .. ' On July 9 I was summarily turned out of the It seemea as u it were snowing, a peaceiuii -snow that covered me as softly, as a childhood prison, miles from home with nothing but my pants, shirt and shoes. "Go home and stay," an blanket Only when. I distinguished the blaring officer shouted. "We will see you again, Perez." sound of "The 26th of July March" did I realize -I staggered to a post office and borrowed money locked the half I was delirious, freezing againin to the door "Are telephone my wife. I almost wept "Come for opened. vault After hours, you me. asked. to a Please, hurry." talk?" guard ready Doctors said I had a nervous breakdown and "I have nothing to say. Please, I need water!" must rest But how? A passing car or voices from He refused. I asked for a chair so I could get the street brought me bolt upright in bed. Night floor. No. The door slammed shut off the ' I was worse; I could see the 2 men as well as. and lean to managed drag myself upright hear them. I went to my mother's home because against 'the wall, which was not so cold. But the G- -i did Jiot know her address, but a and -- took -- me again friend contacted me with news: "A new death went room. to work. Suarez steamy-hbright come out You are on it. Get out of Cuba list has Where the are Mariel? "What about weapons?" "now never." to For he have lOminutes "I say." nothing five-wa- ; or anti-Cast- ro ... ... et 1 " G-- 2. - : " m -- . . ice-co- ld G-- guards-reappear- ed ot -t- o-the high-plac- ed Until I obtained papers, I had to hide. I Contorts a fnrmpr irnv BArtronnt nn Tiatrn't Haath list who seemingly, had vanished in February, 1959, and he agreed to share his hideout with me. At dusk, he brought me to a remote section of the National Cemetery where iron railings of the kul Vuun nullah an art Wo atinrml intfl the deserted graveyard and neaoea ior a mausoleum. The sergeant unlocked the heavy dotjr.'and we entered the crypt - "Those stairs,'- said thesersrt ant "lead to n- other burial vault. Go down there" And so for the next six nights I slept with the dead. By this time, police already had battered down the door of my apartment, only to find it 'abandoned. A general alarm went out for me and six others, yet each afternoon the sergeant and I would mingle with funeral groups and leave the cemetery with them undetected. I obtained all.' S. visa and a forged passport without much trouble, but most important was an exit permit without which I could not board a plane. In 1950 I hod been on a frigate with a saildryou "Americans would call an "operator" This opportunist was now a or "wheeler-dealer.- " police officer for Castro, but I knew he was no Communist only a conniver. I asked him for a permit. Obviously he enjoyed seeing his former officer asking favors. "For you, certainly," he said. "For old times' sake and $200." On Saturday, Aug. 13, my wife and I were at ' the airport, waiting for the 4 p.m. flight to Miami. My papers, including the precious yellow exit card, were made out to Carlos Perez y Perez this being such a common Cuban name, I thought it best to keep But an officious inspector for 2 became suspicious. "A Julio Perez y Perez is on my list Is that you?" I swore it wasn't. "We must be sure. Come with me while I phone headquarters." ' Somehow my wife and I remained unshaken, even while being searched. Four o'clock came and passed, but the airport inspector could not get any information from headquarters over his The airline pilot's impatience muintajl Knt Tha rpfnaiui fn leave Without US. I must explain that in those days Castro's 2 was headed by semiliterate country folk, totally conn fused by their new power. Nowadays I and command chiefs intelligence am sure I would not be alive now if they had been in control that fateful Saturday. By 7:45 p.m. we were still stalled. The pilot angrily demanded that the agent release us, I protested I was Carlos Perez. The harassed agent fretted about headquarters' inefficiency. "I will call them again," he said, reddened with embarrassment over the Revolution's inability to check a simple fact. This time nobody at headquarters even bothered to answer his call. he shouted, hanging up. "I don't care - r.lM fiat nut f Wl t..l. rushed to the exit, and he called out: "Good luck, whoever you are." I had been calm for the four hours we waited for a message from 2 that would signal my death. Now I looked out the plane window, saw the lights of Havana flickering below Us, and be- rump vir1ent1w ill A woman shouted for mv wife. . 1 .1 lw m. arc. WnU IUIU JUBL teik m OWl The old fears and nightmares flooded over me ac&in. but I heard say: We are free." Julio. all is now, "It right ;- - . -- 1m .!. G-- . November 7, . it G-- radio-telephon- e. G-- Czecho-slovakia- G-- 2, G-- 1 Jl .. 1 mv-wii- e Family Weekly, November 7, 1965 |