Soon after the coup d'etat of General Fulgencio Batista, I joined the Santa Clara students opposed to his dictatorship. I was only 14 years old.
When the revolution triumphed, I thought that, at last, Cuba had found its destiny. I was wrong. The Communist Party, which had not engaged in the fighting directly, began transferring the combatants of the July 26 Movement with the approval of the principal leaders of the revolution. Labor and student leaders who had participated in the revolution were driven away from the government...
We, the ex-combatants started to regroup to try to rescue the revolution, and for this purpose created several revolutionary organizations. The majority of the student and labor union movements founded an organization called the Revolutionary Movement November 30th.
Traveling clandestinely in the capital city, I was detained along with Anastasio Rojas-Eirea who had done me the favor of taking me to my destination since he was going downtown himself. The group of miliamen who detained us were members of the student militia from Santa Clara that had fought Batista with me, and which the "revolution" was now using to persecute their own comrade-in arms. Anastasio Rojas had no knowledge of my activities and expected to be released. The militiamen told him to accompany them to the G-02 State Security headquarters and that he would then be released. I protested during the questioning that I was responsible for what was charged and that they must release Rojas. They told me that it was possible, but that they would execute me.
They transferred both of us to La Cabaña. This was the most terrible year in the history of La Cabaña fortress because of the huge number of Cubans they executed every week. My companions looked at me with sadness. I was a few months short of 18, a minor.
One night, while I was asleep, a friend woke me up and told me: "Ricardito, they just took away Majors William Morgan and Jesús Carrera towards the chapel and it seems that they are going to be executed. Now they are coming for you. Get up, and if you are going to be executed act like a real man."
I sat on the bed, still half asleep, and while I was putting my shoes on I heard the guard posted at the door tell me to get dressed... then I heard another inmate say : "No, the death sentence is for Rojas. They sentenced you to 30 years in jail."
I cannot say if, at that moment I was happy or sad. My life was spared, but a completely innocent man would pay with his.
The following day, March 9, 1961 they took us to a kangaroo court and in spite of my protests made in front of the tribunal that I was the sole person responsible, Anastasio Rojas was condemned to death. On the night of that very day he was shot.