“Freedom is our goal!” roared commander Pepe San Roman to the men assembled before him 52 years ago this week. “Cuba is our cause! God is on our side! On to victory!”
A scene of total bedlam unfolded. Hats flew. Men hugged. Men sang and cheered. Men wept. The hour of liberation was nigh — and these men (all volunteers) were putting their lives on the line to see their dream fulfilled. Their dream was a Cuba free from the Soviet barbarism that tortured it, free from firing squads, torture chambers and the teeming Castroite Gulag.
The Brigada included men from every social strata and race in Cuba — from sugar cane planters to sugar cane cutters, from aristocrats to their chauffeurs. But mostly the folks in between, as befit a nation with a larger middle class than most of Europe.
“They fought like Tigers,” wrote a CIA officer who helped train these Cuban freedom-fighters. “But their fight was doomed before the first man hit the beach.”
Our friends at Townhall help disseminate the account of an anniversary that mostly provokes head-scratching and frowns outside Miami-Dade.