Falklands veterans in Salta, down to Che Guevara's old Casa

Overnight bus from Cordoba to Mendoza

Currently watching Gladiator in Spanish, as the only gringo on overnight bus from Cordoba to Mendoza, after getting overnight bus there last night from Salta.  “…I will have my revenge in this life or the next!” does not have quite the same ring to it when dubbed into Spanish. We went past some large Argie military base on the edge of Cordoba, where they had a couple of aircraft on display outside, one of which I recognised as a Pucara, which was one of the iconic images of the Falklands War.

Argentine Pucara aircraft, which was used against UK ground forces during the Falklands War.

Anyway, after a couple of days relaxing in Salta, having a wander around and seeing the sights (nothing much to see, but pleasant, clean city and massive step-up from Bolivia), it was time to head south.

Salta

S

Main Square in Salta.

 

On my 5^th attempt I found a cash machine that would give me some Pesos, and one of the Aussies and I then walked across the park to the bus station to book our next moves.  On the way I spotted a fairly obvious war memorial to “Atlentico Sur, 1982” and I stopped to take a photo. 

Plaza South Atlanic in Salta

Memorial to those Argentine men from Salta who died in the Falklands War, 1982.  RIP. 

This caused a group of chaps who were at least the right age to be veterans to come over and, being friendly, ask where we were both from.  I had thought before that there might be times here when it could be better to pretend to be Aussie or South African (which everyone seems to assume I am anyway) and this would have been one of them.  However, I answered straight away “Ingleterra”, and they all wanted to shake my hand.  The obvious leader of the pack said “Ingleterra! Thatcher!”, and I had to give a thumbs-up and say “Ah, si, Thatcher!” (She is the only British politician in my lifetime to show any moral courage and pride in being British, hence the only one to induce a positive reaction from me!!) and there was lots of laughter and more hand-shaking.  Now, they might have all been taking the p*ss, (although I’m more likely to take offence when it’s not intended, rather than miss an opportunity for a confrontation), but I took their reaction as genuine, grudging respect for ‘The Iron Lady’.  However, I think I would prefer to have just talked to them about Los Pumas and their chances against the All Blacks, Springboks etc!

Bute Coffee Shop, Independence Plaza, Mendoza

Anyway, once I’d sorted myself out, and headed off on my own it was a 12 hour overnight bus from Salta down to Cordoba.  The bus journey itself was pretty uneventful except for the Argie/ South American habit on buses of just suddenly dropping their seat-backs down to as close to horizontal as possible, with no warning at all.  I’d thought it could be a bit of a shock if you were asleep and someone dropped their seat on to your knees- which I discovered it was.  It was almost as much of a shock for me as it was for the young chap in front of me who got a smack around the head, before I’d fully woken up (family tradition???).  He subsequently decided it was more comfortable to have his seat upright.

An illustration of the 'snug' proximity offered by an Argentine overnight sleeper bus- particularly if you hppen to be a 6'4" Alpha Male.

 

Cordoba is Argentina’s second biggest city, and has a large university/ student population.  However, I had no interest in seeing the city itself, but I just got straight on to another bus to the small town of Alta Gracia about an hour outside Cordoba.  This was the childhood home of the self-publicising, narcissistic trouble maker, Che Guevara (no, I’m not a fan).  I’ve always felt that anybody who proudly displays a T-shirt/ poster of him could do well to learn a bit more about him other than just that he hated America, and that they hated him.

The default image of Comrade Che.

                                                 

Ernesto ‘Che’ Guevara-Lynch was born in Rosario, near to Buenos Aires in 1928.  His parents were mixtures of Argentine, Spanish and, of course, Irish.  Che was born with acute asthma, which affected him throughout his life, but this prompted his parents to move to the better climate of Alto Gracia where he was brought up.   Despite his chronic respiratory difficulties he was apparently a good athlete (a combination I must confess a bit of grudging empathy for) and when at university, studying medicine in Buenos Aires, he played fly-half for the university’s rugby team.

Che's old casa in Alta Gracia, outside Cordoba.

While at university, during his holidays he made a couple of trips by motorbike, (at least partly), around South America, which it is claimed is when he saw the poverty being caused by the evil, capitalist Americans (yawn…) and decided to take it upon himself to right this injustice.

In 1954 as a qualified Dr, Comrade Che got himself a job at the General Hospital in Mexico City.  A year later he was introduced to the brothers Raul and Fidel Castro and joined their ‘26^th of July Movement’ (they love their dates down here), which was committed to overthrowing the Pro-American Batista regime in Cuba.  He volunteered to join the movement as a medic, but underwent their full guerrilla/ military training program, ran by veterans of the Spanish Civil War, which including forced marches through the jungle, learning to set and initiate ambushes- and then to get out of the area etc.  By all accounts he was the star pupil on the course. 



Che the warrior

                                                        

At the end of 1956 Che and 80 odd others sailed from Mexico to Cuba in an old cabin cruiser called ‘Granma’.  Soon after landing they were quickly engaged, and smashed by Batista’s troops, with only 22 surviving.  These men then regrouped and formed the basis for a guerrilla campaign against the Government, and they enjoyed widespread popular support.  During this time, having been previously reported as being dead, the mythical legend of Che the master rebel was born.  He set about training peasants in military tactics, as well as teaching literacy to the local population, setting up clinics to treat them and to win their “Hearts and minds”.  It was also during this time that he established a reputation among those he worked with for brutality.  Anybody suspected of treason or disloyalty to the cause would be summarily executed by Che, whose own written accounts of these incidents showed a chilling detachment from the horrific reality.  Mega great bloke.  On the 2^nd of January, following Batista’s escape to the Dominican Republic, Che marched into the capital Havana to take control, in what was his finest hour.

After the revolution he was given honorary Cuban citizenship and held various Cuban government positions, including finance minister and Ambassador to the United Nations in New York City.  He was also responsible for establishing the relationship with the Soviet Union that resulted in nuclear missiles being based on Cuban territory.  Subsequently President Kennedy (http://charliecharlieone.blogspot.com.ar/2010/11/night-out-in-austin-before-solving.html) took exception to this during the Cuban Missile crisis when the World came to the brink of nuclear war, before the missiles were withdrawn by the Russians.  This withdrawal not only massively boosted the image of JFK, but actually started the process of the various Arms Reduction treaties, which thankfully brought about the end of the Cold War in the 80’s.

However, Comrade Che saw things somewhat differently and he felt that ‘nuking’ the Americans would have been the right thing to do, and he was disgusted by what he saw as Russian weakness.  He was subsequently as critical of the Soviet Union as he was of America, and sought to align himself more closely with China.  Like the idea of summarily executing his fellow revolutionaries in Cuba, this is probably part of the ‘Che’ story that your average, unwashed student sporting a Che T-shirt would struggle to remember.

Che’s next great crusade was to go to Africa to free the Africans of the shackles of the evil white men.  Despite being advised by Egyptian president Nasser, another 3^rd World dictator who liked to annoy the West that it would be a futile exercise, Che arrived in Congo in 1965.  It is said that Che struggled to find a way to work with the incompetent, poorly motivated troops- and having spent 7 months myself trying to motivate and train Afghan soldiers I, again, can relate to his experiences, “Mohammed where is Abdul?”  “He has gone to Kabul (300 miles away) to get a haircut…” SNAP!  However, in my experience I was working with the Americans, who are useful to have on your team, whereas they were working directly against Che.

 

Che livin' the revolution dream in Africa.

                      

There was a unit of ‘Green Beret’ Special Forces advisors in Congo, as well as a floating listening station of the National Security Agency (AKA No Such Agency) off the coast of Tanzania listening to his radio communications, and enabling his every move to be anticipated and disrupted.  The role of the Green Berets was to not only stop him, but they were also instructed to not actually kill him and make him into a martyr.  7 months later Che and his boys left Congo having achieved nothing, stating that “We cannot liberate by ourselves a country that does not want to fight”.  He then spent 6 months living between Dar es Salaam and Prague, before returning to Latin America.  He first went to Cuba, discreetly, before heading to Bolivia.

Once there he set up the ELN revolutionary army and had some successes in his initial ‘contacts’ with the Bolivian Army.  So successful, in fact, that the Bolivians thought they were confronting a far larger guerrilla force, and sent a disproportionately large number of troops, with American advisors, to the region to search for them.  Eventually on the 8^th of October 1967 the great revolutionary was shot in the leg and captured by Bolivian troops.  While there were various attempts by the Americans for a spot of “Rendition” to Panama, the Bolivian President, fearing his escape, ordered his execution, which was carried out by a Sgt the following day, supposedly to make it look like he’d died in battle.  His body was then granted the standard 3^rd world level of respect- his hands were chopped off, put into formaldehyde and sent to Buenos Aires for formal fingerprint identification, and what was left was dumped in an unmarked grave, to only be exhumed in the 90’s.  While Cuba declared 3 days of national mourning, it still all seemed a little bit of an anti-climax.

Che wounded, at point of capture by Bolivian troops.

                                                              

My thoughts on Che are that he was obviously a tough and competent leader of men, but his problem was that he believed his own propaganda.  He did well in Cuba, when reined in by the Castro brothers, however he failed to see his own limitations.  He had latched on to the idea that he could make himself look great by appearing to help poor people, annoy America etc.  However, his own ego could not allow him to see that kicking off World War 3 to annoy JFK would not really have done a great deal to help all the millions of people around the world who would have been on the receiving end of the ‘instant sunshine’.  While I generally disapprove of celebrating the death of anyone, I think Che, like Osama bin Laden, is one of those people whose death was actually for the benefit of humanity.