Cuban Americans Commemorate Bay of Pigs Invasion Anniversary

The Cold War might be over for much of the world, but Cuban Americans keep reminding the world that their fight against communism in their homeland is as old and as tenacious as Fidel Castro’s rule.

On Sunday, nearly 500 local Cuban Americans met at a restaurant near Los Angeles International Airport to show their long memories and passionate disdain for Castro.

Their meeting was less dramatic than last month’s downing of Cuban American pilots who were heading for Cuba to leaflet the island. But in their time--35 years ago this week--some of the men took part in world-shaking events: the ill-fated, CIA-sponsored invasion attempt on Cuba known as the Bahia de Cochinos--the Bay of Pigs.

The veterans began their commemoration Sunday by reading a roll call of the names of the 100 Cubans and four Americans killed in the invasion attempt. As each was read, those at the gathering answered in chorus, Presente--the traditional response for lost comrades.

“It was a defeat, but I’m very proud that we tried. And after 35 years, we still don’t give up,” said Waldo De Castroverde, a Las Vegas lawyer who was 20 when he parachuted into Cuba with the invasion force.

It was meant to trigger a popular uprising in Cuba that would bring down Castro.

Instead, the Bay of Pigs operation was a military disaster. The 1,300 CIA-trained Cuban expatriates who took part in the invasion were routed in three days by Castro’s forces.

Though U.S. officials would just as soon forget the debacle, the 20 Los Angeles-area veterans of the raid and their supporters who showed up Sunday--some of whom weren’t even born in 1961--said that for them, the Bay of Pigs is a reminder of their nearly four decades of struggle.

In the post-Cold War world, the anti-communist flame that burns within many Cuban Americans seems peculiar to some. But those who attended the 35th anniversary commemoration explained that for them, the wounds inflicted by Castro are too severe to heal.

Joe Castano of West Covina, for instance, is the Cuban-born son of a CIA operative shot by Che Guevara in the revolutionary leader’s office in Cuba when the elder Castano’s cover was blown.

“I wanted revenge,” said Castano, and at 16, he flew from Havana to Miami to join the opposition. A year later, Castano, now 52, was shot in the arm as he parachuted into Cuba.

Seal Beach resident Jesus Godoy was a semipro Cuban baseball player hoping to get into the majors when he decided to come to the United States to join the rebels. His baseball ambitions were dashed, along with his hopes to free Cuba, when he was shot three times in the invasion.

Godoy, 58, refuses to give Castro credit even for the bearded leader’s baseball skills. He scoffed at the oft-told story that Castro once tried out as a pitcher for the Washington Senators baseball team. “Fidel was never any good at baseball; that’s a myth from his propaganda machine,” Godoy said.

Like most of the Cubans who took part in Bay of Pigs, few of the Los Angeles veterans had any prior military experience. Fernando Marquete, 53 and now president of the Los Angeles veterans group, was in his last year of high school in Havana when he was recruited for the effort.

The men trained in secret in Guatemala and Nicaragua. They believed all along that the United States would assist them with air cover, and they thought victory was certain. “We were supported by the most powerful nation in the world, which never lost a war. We thought it was impossible to lose,” De Castroverde said.

But, plagued by poor intelligence and the fact that plans for an invasion were reported in the New York Times, the men stood little chance.

Most were captured and spent 20 months in prison before being ransomed for $53 million in medical supplies and food.

Though the raid might seem foolhardy today, it took place at the height of U.S.-Soviet tensions. It was a time when American officials talked with straight faces about lacing Castro’s cigars with LSD, or contaminating his boots with a powder that would make his beard fall out.

Those gathered Sunday said the heated feelings that linger today among Cuban Americans have their origins in personal wounds suffered decades ago.

“I’ve lost too many good buddies in the process [of fighting Castro],” Marquete said. “I have to see their dream through.”