UNITED STATES—Many moons after the disastrous three-day Bay of Pigs incursion, which resulted in almost 120 dead among the invaders and 1,200 captured by Castro’s forces when the United States reneged on its promise to send Air Force bombers, the wizened veterans of that misadventure were no longer the youthful and idealistic alliance of students, lawyers, bankers, farmers.
“The brigade members have been betrayed twice, once in April 1961, and in December 2012,” said Julio González-Rebull, 88, who flew combat and resupply missions aboard a B-26 bomber from the assault team’s base in Guatemala.
“There is not a group of free Cubans anywhere in the world hurting like we are. Two American presidents have betrayed us, John F. Kennedy and now Mr. Obama. I’ve not felt this sad for a very long time. Nothing has changed in Cuba. Nothing at all. The promises have come to nothing. I don’t know where things go from here,” he said, with a desultory look.
His disillusionment was shared by others at a museum. In Central Miami it stands; an oyster-shell white building rather resembling a mini-mall smoke shop in a quiet residential street that has served as a clubhouse for Bay of Pigs veterans. Within, thousands of books and magazines, in Spanish and English, detail every moment of 20th century Cuban history, weaponry, and military operations. Uniforms from the conflict are displayed in glass cabinets and portraits of the “martyrs” of Brigade 2506.
There are mannequins donning camouflage hunter’s garments that were commonly available through mail order catalogs during the 50s and 60s. These civilian garments were supplied to many CIA operatives and Special Operations advisors, including the Assault Brigade 2506. Those who wore the 100 percent cotton twill fabric with a colorfast camouflage scheme those who have died (the majority except for a few in their early 100s) since, adorn the walls.
“We’re doing business with a guy who gave the order to shoot down those airplanes?” said Pablo, a Cuban American exile, Pablo Enrique referred to a 1996 incident; a Cuban air force Mikoyan MiG-29UB shot down two unarmed Cessna planes owned by a civilian-activist group Brothers to the Rescue in international waters 70 miles from Florida, killing four Cuban Americans.
“If you think that anything’s changed here, forget it. The ones that exploited the people before, the politicians and cronies, will be the ones that profit, and the rest? Screw them,” said Pablo. “Tomorrow Castro will croak and his son will take over. The owners of the farm are the ones who are running the farm.”
Perhaps the most significant item in the museum is the large yellow Brigade 2506 flag, presented to President Kennedy in a ceremony at Miami’s Orange Bowl stadium in December 1962 when the remaining 1,113 prisoners of war were released by a gleeful Fidel Castro in return for $53 million in US medicine and food. He was a dealmaker, that Fidel.
In welcoming the released prisoners home, Kennedy assured the large crowd that “this flag will be returned to this brigade in a free Havana.” That flag remains encased in a glass frame on the wall.
“When we met JFK at the Orange Bowl I believed we would have a second chance,” said González-Lomeli, who lost his closest friend on the beach at Playa Girón, as Cubans refer to Bay of Pigs, the brigade’s main landing site. “But it never happened. We carried on believing, but that opportunity never came. We’ve got nothing to show.”
Another Brigade member chipped in:
“At least we get to go shopping in Florida. You have seen the bare shelves at the stores in Havana.”
González-Rebull said it was important that the story of the invasion continued to be told long after the last survivors had died.
“One of the saddest things for me was when we were invited to Congress on the 50th anniversary and some of them didn’t even know about April 17th.”
He knew what it meant, but the average American wouldn’t: the Anniversary of the Bay of Pigfish invasion.”
To be continued…
