A Sergeant Named Batista

Chapter 23

Batsta had promised free and honest elections at the conclusion of his term in the Presidency in 1944, but his political opponents received the promise with considerable skepticism. He stated again and again that there would be no cheating, no intimidation by the Armed Forces, no strong-arm tactics or stuffed ballot boxes.

The government's candidate was Dr. Carlos Saladrigas, one of the nation's great men, a hero of the campaign against the Machado government, a man exceptionally well prepared for the high office he sought. His opponent was Dr. Ramon Grau San Martín, university professor, the same gentleman who had occupied the Presidency for four hectic months shortly after the downfall of Machado. In terms of the regular definitions of political tendencies, Saladrigas could be called a conservative and Grau San Martín a radical. But voters in Cuba, as in a number of other Latin American countries, cast their ballots for or against a personality and political tendencies are secondary considerations. This sort of “personalism” is responsible for such common designations as "Batistiano," "Menocalista," and so on, indicating that a person supports the man rather than the party.

As election day drew near, speculation increased. Would Batista keep his promise of free elections or were his words simply the pretty phrases of a clever politician? On June 1, 1944, the people of Cuba went to the polls, and they got their answer. The voters participated in one of the cleanest, freest, most honest elections in the nation's history and the government's candidate was soundly defeated by the opposition candidate. There were no disorders during the voting, no one was intimidated, and the people elected the man of their choice.

When Batista turned the Presidency over to Grau San Martín on October 10, of the same year, the people of Cuba were shouting vivas for him from the housetops. He received messages of felicitation from people in all walks of life, including members of the opposition parties. He had kept his promise, and the people of Cuba were grateful to him.

The cheers of the public were still ringing in his ears when Fulgencio Batista, private citizen, left Cuba for a tour of South America in the fall of 1944. But once on his way, the people turned to look for new heroes to cheer, new villains to condemn. Batista spent several months in South America, and be was received with highest honors everywhere he went. While his own people at home were going about the business of forgetting him, the people of Peru, of Chile, of Uruguay, of Brazil and other countries, were honoring him for what he was-a great American statesman, a sincere, warm personality with a ready smile for all and a keen interest in life.

For four years Batista stayed in exile, most of the time in the United States. But he seldom let up in his work and his study. He spent months writing a report on his trip through South America, and he made a profound study of the economic, political, and cultural life of the United States. He traveled throughout the country, meeting people, asking questions, absorbing more and more knowledge. His home life was extremely happy. He bad married the beautiful and charming young Marta Fernández after his first marriage to Elisa Godínez bad ended, unhappily, in divorce.

When be wasn't traveling, Batista divided his time between his New York apartment and his home in Daytona Beach. He spent most of his time working and studying but he managed to get some relaxation over the week ends. I saw a great deal of Batista during the years of his exile, and the hours we spent together were both pleasant and enlightening. Batista is by nature a good-humored fellow, and he likes people. His English is good and he loves to make use of it.

When he was residing in New York we spent some of our week ends together in little towns along the Jersey coast or at some quiet club on Long Island. When we were together in Florida we did some bass fishing in the lakes in the central part of the state. And one of the best ways to get better acquainted with a fellow is to fish with him.

One of the things that always startled me about Batista was the way people in remote places recognized him the minute they saw him. I recall an incident which occurred while we were spending a long week end at Spring Lake, New Jersey. One Saturday afternoon Batista invited me to join him for a motor trip to some of the small towns along the Jersey seacoast. Our wives were with us and we were wearing sports clothes. The ladies were in shorts and Batista wore a pair of slacks, a rather "busy" sport shirt, a fisherman's canvas hat with a green plastic visor, and a pair of dark glasses. We stopped in a little town where the Saturday shopping rush was in full swing and we started a tour of window shopping. As the hours passed, it became apparent that we could not get back to Spring Lake in time for dinner so we decided to dine in the little town. The ladies explained that they couldn't enter a restaurant in shorts, so Batista and I joined them as they went shopping for sport skirts to put on over their shorts. We entered a sportswear store and while our wives tried on skirts, Batista and I looked at the display cases in the store.

Shortly the manager of the store came up and spoke to us. He was quite excited. "I never," he said, "expected to have the honor of having General Batista as a customer." Batista, quite as surprised as I, smiled and shook hands with the manager. How the man ever recognized Batista in the sports disguise he was wearing is a mystery. The discovery that Batista was in the store almost stopped business. The manager called all the salesgirls and introduced them to General Batista and there was a round of autographing. We finally got out of the store at closing time. A few nights later, the four of us were seated in a dark comer of the hotel dining room at Spring Lake. A small dance orchestra at the opposite side of the room was playing a rumba. We paid little attention to the music as we talked. Suddenly a chap at the table next to us arose, came to our table, and said to the General: "General Batista, they're playing a rumba and the dancers are not very good at it. Since the rumba is from your country, perhaps we ought to apologize for the way we are abusing it here." Batista was pleased and he invited the visitor to join us. As a matter of fact, Batista could have shown the Americans a few things about the rumba because he's an expert at it. So is his wife Marta.

Batista is a great sports fan and be is especially interested in boxing. During the years he lived in New York he seldom missed an important bout at Madison Square Garden. He likes to fish and does as much deep-sea fishing as he can now, in spite of the heavy work schedule he follows. He likes competition and be would have made a great athlete himself bad he had the time to compete.

During one of our vacations together in central Florida, Batista and I got in a lot of shuffleboard. Neither of us was expert at the game but we were pretty evenly matched in our deficiency. On one occasion we were at Silver Springs for a few days and we decided to settle all arguments about our respective talents, once and for all. For hours we pushed the wooden pucks from one end of the court to the other, and with each push an argument development. Batista is a keen competitor and be concedes nothing. In golf, Batista insists that all three-inch putts be holed out. And it's the same in other games. Each time my puck stopped near a line, Batista would insist that it was actually touching the line, thus nullifying the count. He would swear that his own shots were in dead center of the scoring area. The arguments became so heated that we had to call a referee. Mariano Domingo, one of his good friends, was on the trip with us and we called him in to settle the disputes. It was a hilarious battle, in which Mariano tried to be impartial. I have always insisted that Mariano was playing a little politics in some of his rulings, and Batista teases him about it even today.

It was on this same trip we decided to do a little bass fishing. Batista is a salt-water fisherman, as are most Cuban sportsmen, but he likes the still-water fishing in the lakes of central Florida. We fished up and down Lake Griffin, using Ed Nelson of Starke's Ferry as guide. Ed, who died a few months later, was one of the great fishermen of Florida, as well as a most entertaining gentleman. He liked Batista from the moment they met and Batista thought Ed was terrific. Here was another indication of how the fame of Batista had spread. When we arrived at Nelson's fishing camp, which is back in the woods, and I introduced him to Batista, Ed surprised the General by mentioning some of the political highlights of Batista's career as though he were discussing the record of the local sheriff. Batista couldn't understand how a fellow running a fishing camp in central Florida could ever have heard of Batista.

After we finished our fishing, we started the drive back to Batista's home in Daytona Beach. It was a beautiful Florida day and the fishing had been good. Batista was driving his small car and as we reached the citrus fruit area around the beautiful little town of Mount Dora, Batista became fascinated by the groves with their long rows of orange and grapefruit trees. After a little while, Batista drove his car on to the shoulder of the road and stopped. He jumped out of the car, ran to the edge of the roadside orange grove, plucked a couple of oranges from a tree, and ran back to the car. As we pulled back into the road I asked him why he had taken the fruit. I explained that almost anyone in the area would have given him all the oranges lie wanted. "No," he said, "that wouldn't have been what I wanted. All my life I've wanted to steal an orange off the tree and I've finally done it. That's been taken care of now and we won't have to worry about it again."

It would have spoiled his fun had we told him the truth--that he had taken the orange from the grove of one of my best friends, who would gladly have given him a carload of oranges free.