Freedom Fighters

38. Santa Clara I: Chance

The smell of stale blood and sweat hit Dario's nose as he walked into the hospital. Bandaged revolutionaries lay groaning on stretchers and makeshift beds. Medics rushed about carrying injured comrades to an empty spot, before calling for any available doctors to treat them. The doctors were visibly swamped, dashing from one patient to another, their white coats stained with dried blood.

"Excuse me!" someone shouted behind him.

Dario instinctively shuffled away, only to see four revolutionaries racing past carrying a stretcher. The one on the stretcher was unconscious, and had a whole leg blown off, the stump bandaged by some rags that had long been soaked red. They were still dripping with blood.

"God, what happened," Dario muttered. He looked about, hoping to find Che, the commander in charge of the siege on Santa Clara. He had been directed to come here to the city hospital after questioning some of the guards at the checkpoint they just passed. 

He spotted Che reading a document on a clipboard with his right hand while a bespectacled doctor was talking to him in an agitated manner. He wore his left arm in a sling. Dario approached them.

"Okay Doctor, I will do as you say. Those drugs can be found in the pharmacy across the university, yes?"

"Yes."

"Okay, you can go now. Thank you Doctor."

The doctor sighed in relief, before wiping a layer of sweat off his forehead. He turned and strode off in a hurry.

As Che's eyes landed on the lean figure walking towards him, he broke into a wide smile.

"Dario! It's you! Why are you here?"

"Yes it is," Dario said, taking his friend into an embrace. "I have been sent by Fidel."

"Oh! Things too good in Santiago that he could spare some men to help us out here?" Che joked.

Dario's expression darkened immediately. He hated to have to be the one to break the harsh truth. Leaning in, he whispered, "Che, we didn't win at Santiago. Whatever you heard on the radio, Fidel was lying."

Che took a few seconds to register the sentence. His eyebrows coiled up in bewilderment. "What?" he said quietly, a hint of desperation in his voice.

"I tell the truth. We got beaten back in Santiago. General Cantillo pushed us back to the outskirts of the city, and they are getting more reinforcements by ship every day. I don't think victory is possible there."

Che remained rooted to the spot, stunned.

Dario continued, "I was sent here by Fidel to make sure you guys win right here at Santa Clara. He said that if we win here, we will win the war."

Che nodded slowly. His features were still knitted in worry but he managed a slight smile. "It's true. As long as the people think that we won at Santiago and here, it might be possible for large sections of the army to surrender to us, and for Havana to revolt. It might be enough..."

"So," Dario interjected, his expression hardening. "I think you know that we absolutely must not let word of this out. The only people here that know are those men that came with me, and they will not speak of this with anybody else."

"Of course, word of this must not reach the common people, at the very least."

"So where are the other columns?" Dario asked.

"Quevedo and Camilo fought a series of battles to capture a few towns east of here. If I am not wrong, Camilo's forces are besieging the last bastion of enemy troops in a town called Yaguajay and Quevedo is supporting him by mopping up the other towns. Their victories should be all but assured."