Former Soldier Reveals Grisly Details of Early Castro Regime Repression at La CabaƱa Fortress
A harrowing firsthand account from Vicente HernƔndez Brito, a former soldier at the infamous La CabaƱa fortress, sheds new light on the systematic brutality that characterized the initial years of the Cuban Revolution.
Vicente HernƔndez Brito, now 77 years old, has broken decades of silence to detail the chilling procedures surrounding executions carried out under the authority of revolutionary courts. His testimony, recently documented in a report for CubaNet, paints a stark picture of a regime that employed not only overt violence but also calculated psychological torment, and ultimately discarded those who carried it out.
The Mechanics of State-Sponsored Killing
HernĆ”ndez Brito described a meticulously planned process for carrying out the death sentences. āFirst bridge with the cage, when we brought the prisoners to take them to the chapel, to take them to execute. There the order was heard: ‘Executive officer, comply with the judgment of the revolutionary court. On behalf of the homeland and the town, proceed.’ Thus the prisoners were shot,ā he recalled, conveying a sense of both resignation and enduring trauma.
The executions werenāt simply haphazard acts of violence. Everything, according to HernĆ”ndez Brito, was āmillimetrically calculated.ā He explained the presence of a sandbag-protected square post on the second bridge, designed to stop stray bullets. āWhen they shot someone, the projectile passed it and was splining the stick,ā he stated. Reflectors illuminated the execution grounds, typically in the early morning hours, ensuring the sounds of gunfire reverberated throughout the prison, intended to instill fear in the remaining inmates. āThe prisoners shouted āmurderer!ā when they saw that they took someone to the wall,ā he added.
Dehumanization and Psychological Torture
Before facing the firing squad, prisoners were subjected to a dehumanizing ritual. They were stripped of all personal belongings, even belts and shoelaces, to prevent suicide attempts. āThey took their belt to the prisoners and cords so that they would not hang. From there they were lowered by a ladder where they were shot, down there,ā HernĆ”ndez Brito explained, highlighting the systematic stripping of dignity.
The brutality extended beyond physical violence. HernĆ”ndez Brito detailed a particularly horrific form of psychological torture known as āEl Saladito,ā a punishment cell located āunder the water tank, where you dropped a head in your head for hours.ā He described how prisoners were subjected to a constant drip of water, driving them to the brink of insanity. āTwelve hours there they drove you crazy, but you couldn’t move or turn away the drop. Hence the name. They went crazy,ā he said.
From Prison to Tourist Attraction: A Bitter Irony
Today, La CabaƱa stands as a tourist attraction, drawing visitors to its historic walls. However, HernĆ”ndez Brito views this transformation with profound irony. āThis place was full of prisoners. Now this is for tourists, but this was ābad times since you entered.ā It was a terrible place. Nothing good came here,ā he lamented.
The repression, he emphasized, wasnāt limited to those deemed political opponents. Individuals faced imprisonment for minor offenses, such as possessing a small amount of foreign currency. āDo you know how much someone was thrown out for legal membership in currencies? Three years. To another, for having two or three dollars in your pocket, six years for currency traffic.ā
Witness to the Death of a Symbol: Pedro Luis Boitel
One of the most poignant moments of HernĆ”ndez Britoās testimony centers on the death of Pedro Luis Boitel, a prominent symbol of resistance to Castroism. HernĆ”ndez Brito recounted being a direct witness to Boitelās final moments. āI was with a checkpoint that morning and went to bring coffee to the nursing post. And they tell me: ‘The one that is in there is dying.’ I asked: ‘Pedro Luis?’ They told me: ‘Yes, it’s Pedro Luis.āā
He described the profound impact Boitelās death had on the prisoners. āWhen he died, I asked the lieutenant for permission to close his eyes. And that was when all the prisoners began to sing the national anthem. They gutting us all. No one could move. No one could leave.ā HernĆ”ndez Brito later learned of the establishment of an International Human Rights Award in Boitelās honor, a revelation that filled him with pride. āI was very excited. I didn’t know that this recognition existed. I, this old man who is here, is proud to have closed Pedro Luis’s eyes. He died because he was very weak.ā
A Forgotten Soldierās Disillusionment
HernĆ”ndez Britoās involvement with the revolutionary government didnāt end with his service at La CabaƱa. He later participated as an āinternationalist worker,ā undergoing military training before being deployed on civil missions, including a stint in Angola.
However, his current reality stands in stark contrast to the promises of the revolution. He now lives in poverty, relying on his daughterās assistance to survive. āMy colleagues and people come and eat from the garbage dumps. This has given a radical change, which is not for what we fight,ā he confessed. He questioned the fate of the revolutionās ideals, asking, āIs the health ended or it is not over? Is the guilt of all those things by imperialism?ā
Vicente HernĆ”ndez Britoās testimony serves as a raw and unsettling window into the inner workings of repression during the early years of Castroism. More than a confession, it is a powerful indictment of a system that justified death āin the name of the homeland and the people,ā and then abandoned those who enforced its will. It is a crucial call for historical memory, forcing a reckoning with the foundations of a regime built on fear and ultimately, disillusionment.
