It was a warm summer evening. The wind blowing through my hair on my way to the runway where my plane awaits. It was time, time to take a stand for Cuba ,and dethrone the ruthless dictator that had governed us for too long.
My brother said,” Are you ready little bro?”
I responded with, “ yes “, but deep down I was a little frightened about becoming jailed if all didn’t go well. There was no time we were finally on a plane to Mexico where we needed to start our revolution to cripple the horrible people that ruined Cuba. It was a grueling 4 hour plane ride to Mexico city, with not much going on besides my brother going over his plans thousands of times to make sure nothing would go wrong. When I stepped off the plane we were greeted with an armored jeep ready to escort me and my brother to the zone where our militia will be formed. My brother reassured me by giving me a tap on the shoulder and repeating “it will all be fine” over and over until I felt calmer. We were then on our way for better or for worse, for a win or loss, for triumph or defeat.
After an incredibly long ride of following roads that seemed to be overgrown and not well maintained ,we made our way to the base of operations. It seemed to be a more rundown area with unclean buildings covered in dirt, small housing units, and an even smaller mess hall. It wasn’t much, but it was a good home to an infant militia. I stopped in one of the housing units to put my things away. When I stepped back outside I saw my big brother loading troops into a truck to go and find more recruits to overtake the Cuban government. I then proceeded to hop into the seat of the old rust bucket of a truck ,and we were on our way. We made it to Mexico city to try and recruit more people which we ended up doing with ease, since most people hated the dictator named Fulgencio Batista.
We simply repeated the process of recruiting more militia members until we had a total of 400 people. We ran these members through countless military drills to make them ready to conquer. When our work was done we made our way back to Cuba where me and my brother were both raised, with our 400 new recruits. We got back undetected with time to spare before our attack. FInally we were home. I heard my brother breathe a sigh of relief as we stepped off the plane which showed he knew that there was much still to come with the overtaking of Batista.
During our time in Cuba we had gained 20,000 more trained soldiers. In July we had all of our troops ready for our attack, which was going to be on a Cuban army barracks to kick off our dethroning of the dictator. In the early morning of July 26th the birds were chirping, the wind was blowing, and we had a full blown militia heading towards the Cuban army barracks. The air felt silent as everyone was waiting on the command to attack. After five minutes of dead silence my brother gave the signal, ”ATTACK!”
Everyone started running towards the building with AK47s in hand. It was a relatively short battle with only 400 casualties ,and with that victory and a few more movements ,we kicked Batista out of his seat of power. Me and my brother celebrated for days after, but we needed to get work done. The next week we started work on reforming the government, and with this new found power me and my brother took the highest positions possible within it .
My brother died in 2016 of natural causes, and lived a long life. I look back to this day on the 16th of July and am so proud of what me, my brother, and the guerilla force was able to achieve.