Sweet fifteen
Chapter 14. Grandfather Jairo’s funeral
Tazumal, Chalchapa, El Salvador
The tropical rain fell relentlessly, and I felt scared and miserable, listening to my teeth chattering, wet and cold. Once it was dark, we hiked our way through fields in a roundabout way to avoid enemy patrols. After three nights we eventually made it to one of the base camps in Morazán, the eastern mountain range.
For the first months I was assigned to reconnaissance patrols. We basically covered the areas close by our camps, making sure enemy squads didn’t have the opportunity to infiltrate. Our side was basically formed by Salvadoran from the newly formed guerrilla outfits, the FMLN. Also, there were a great part of us from the Nicaraguan Forces. Then there was an assortment of military advisors. The majority was Cuban, but there were additionally some Argentines, and a few Chileans.
For security reasons we were continually changing the positions of our campsites and it was up to our patrols to make sure they were safe. It was my first job in my life, and I did my best to do it right. We had our encounters a few times, and on occasion suffered severe casualties.
In the land of volcanoes’ Chapters Purchase the book