Operations
I
WORKED WITH A NUMBER OF CONTACTS AND AGENTS IN Paris. One of my most useful
auxiliaries was a Cuban named Nildo Alvarez Valdes (code name
"Ernestico"). Alvarez was not on the D.G.I. staff, but rather was
with the Cuban commercial office. Nevertheless, he served as a mail drop and
contact point for Intelligence. Persons arriving in Paris who sought to get in
touch with the Centro would contact Alvarez, who then notified Intelligence.
Messages were also transmitted through Alvarez, and his house served as a
meeting place, too. Persons traveling through Paris en route to Cuba occasionally
stayed in Alvarez's home until passage was obtained for them. He and his wife
had become accustomed to having total strangers‑sometimes three or four
at a time‑descend on their house and remain for several days. Alvarez was
about 27 years old, good-natured, balding, and rather stout. His wife chided
him that his belly prevented him from seeing his toes. Alvarez's assistance was
particularly convenient for me: Alvarez lived on the third floor of an apartment
building at Faraday No. 10; my family lived on the fifth floor of the same
building.
My
tasks in Paris ranged from lesser matters, such as assisting persons who were
going to Cuba, to affairs related to high policy.
For
a period of time I was in contact with Paul Verges, a French deputy. Verges was
trying to organize a meeting of Vietnamese, Korean, and Cuban representatives.
The purpose of the conference would be to condemn the Soviet Union for not
providing sufficient support to the Viet Cong and to Cuba. Fidel Castro at the
time was in one of his periodic sulks against Moscow, and so the Cuban government
was receptive to the idea. For a while, Intelligence, in the person of myself,
encouraged Verges in his plans. The conference was to be held in Cuba or Viet
Nam, and nonaligned nations were to be invited to attend. It would convene
prior to the conference of Communist parties that was to meet in Moscow in
1969. The plans never came to fruition, however. Fidel Castro, although he
shunned the Moscow conference, reached an agreement with the Soviets, and thus
lost interest in having his own international parley.
A
different type of collaboration with Cuban Intelligence was maintained by an
Argentinean scientist at the National Scientific Research Center in Paris. I
had carefully cultivated the Argentinean, who used the code name
"Ernesto" (which seems to have had a vogue among the Intelligence
collaborators in Paris). Ernesto provided detailed information about the
biological research he was engaged in, as well as the work of other
scientists. He also reported on the scientists themselves. Havana displayed
considerable interest in Ernesto, sending precise instructions regarding the
information desired from him.
On
one occasion, I commented to Lopez: "Why do they want this information?
These are areas in which no work is being done in Cuba."
"Don't
concern yourself," Lopez replied. "Those are the instructions, and
they have to be carried out."
I
was convinced that it was not Cuban Intelligence, but rather Soviet
Intelligence that was seeking the information. We Cubans were being utilized as
a means of obtaining it for Moscow.
Not
all efforts to build contacts in Paris had satisfactory results. A Frenchman
who had been of assistance to D.G.I. in contact and recruitment work was
leaving Paris to travel to Cuba. Among the Frenchman's friends was an
attractive French divorcee who enjoyed the good life. E.C. worked for a
publishing house and moved in intellectual circles, and Intelligence figured
that she could be useful and therefore was worth remaining in contact with.
This task was assigned to me. Lopez introduced me to the Frenchman, who in turn
arranged a meeting with E.C.
The
Frenchman explained to E.C.: "This is a friend of mine. He's going to take
care of my correspondence while I'm away. Any mail that you receive for me,
please give to him."
E.C.
agreed. I arranged future meetings, took her out to lunch, cultivated her; I
was following the usual procedure of recruitment for Intelligence. Then, a
meeting was set for nine one evening, but the woman failed to show up. I
waited, then left for a secondary, "reserve" rendezvous point. No
sign of E.C. here, either, so I decided to go to a reception that was being
held that night at the Embassy.
At
eleven o'clock E.C, appeared at the reception ‑ obviously and thoroughly
inebriated. Raucous and boisterous, she quickly became the center of amused
attention at the party. Lopez demanded to know what was going on. I explained
that E.C. had failed to keep an appointment that had been set for early that
evening. "Vaya, this is impossible," Lopez said. "The woman
can't be trusted. If that had been an important meeting, she would have done
the same." Thus abruptly terminated E.C.'s relationship with Cuban
Intelligence.
Then
there was the case of the bizarre Brazilian. S.H., a member of the Brazilian
Communist Party who had been living in exile in French Guiana, came to Paris
after attending the 1967 conference of the Latin American Solidarity
Organization in Cuba. He was to remain in Paris a few days, waiting for a
large amount of propaganda materials that was to be sent to him from Havana,
propaganda which he had promised to distribute in South America. Almost daily
he showed up at the Cuban Embassy in Paris and inquired about the material, but
it failed to arrive.
I
came to know S.H. as a result of these visits to the Embassy. One day the
Brazilian said to me, confidentially: "Bueno, now that I have trust in you
– I see that you are honest, you are a
sincere man. I have a secret to tell you."
The
man was charming and seemingly intelligent, and so I, puzzled, asked,
"What secret?"
"A
secret that will be of great interest to the Cuban Revolution." He went on
to explain that he knew of a way of securing "atomic raw materials"
from which it was possible to extract cobalt. S.H. assured me that this process
could be carried out in any socialist (i.e., Communist) country. He said:
"I spoke to the Czechs, and they were interested, but they haven't given
me a definite answer. Anyway, I would rather deal with the Cuban Revolution
because it is more in need of assistance, of greater strength."
S.H.'s
plan called for the smuggling of the "raw materials" from Brazil into
French Guiana. S.H. told me that he was acquainted with border contrabandists,
and these would be willing to do the work, despite the danger. In return for
organizing the project, S.H. said he would expect ten percent of the profit,
which would be used to pay the smugglers and to suborn the necessary
authorities.
Propaganda
supplies and nuclear raw materials were not the only matters that concerned
S.H. There was also the affair of the photographs. While in Havana, the
Brazilian had been wont to leave the organized, guided groups to which he was
assigned and go off by himself. He had a borrowed car and a borrowed camera,
and he took photographs on his one‑man sight‑seeing excursions.
This had not pleased the Cuban authorities. When it had come time to leave ‑
so S.H. related to me ‑ he had wanted to keep his film. At the airport he
approached what he took to be a representative of the Cuban Institute for
Friendship with the Peoples and said to him: "This camera was loaned by
your Institute, and I want to give it back. I don't know how to remove the
cartridge. Will you please do it for me? "
The
man agreed, took the camera, and returned shortly afterwards and handed S.H. a
cartridge. In Paris, S.H. took the cartridge to a photo shop for developing.
When he went back five days later to pick up the developed photographs, the
clerk demanded to know whether this was some kind of a joke‑the cartridge
had been empty, there was no film in it. S.H. realized that the film had been
removed by the man at the airport, who evidently had been D.G.I. or G‑2.
I
dispatched a message about S.H. to the Centro Principal in Havana, relating the
offer he had made about nuclear materials. A reply came back from the official
in charge of Brazilian affairs, "Fermin," who reported that D.G.I.
had been in touch with S.H. in Cuba, but that he never said anything about
atomic secrets, nor offered anything. Perhaps he was trying to work a swindle,
or he was an enemy provoker, or maybe just plain crazy. I was ordered not to
have anything further to do with him, and I never saw him again.
A
fundamental task of the Intelligence Center in Paris was to provide support for
the various guerrilla movements the Cuban government was attempting to spawn
in Latin America. Of the Latin American republics, only Mexico maintained
diplomatic and commercial ties with Cuba ‑ and Mexican surveillance of
Cuban intelligence activities in that country was brisk. With no direct means
of commercial transportation existing between Cuba and the other Latin American
countries, it was difficult for Cuba to move men back and forth. Latin
Americans received guerrilla training in Cuba, and then Cuba would utilize its
fleet of Lambda‑type fishing boats to smuggle the men, together with
weapons, back into their home countries. To get people from these countries to
Cuba ‑ for training or other purposes ‑ was more difficult. A
regular schedule of clandestine pickups was not feasible.
Thus,
the Paris Centro entered the picture. Persons traveling to Cuba from Latin
America would fly to Paris on any of the several commercial air routes
operating to Europe. They would remain in Paris while the Centro obtained the
necessary documentation for further travel, either Russian or Czech visas. From
Paris, the men would fly to Moscow or Prague, and from there to Havana on
Soviet TU‑114 airliners.
One
week a group of Bolivians arrived in Paris. Another week a group of
Argentineans. Then Venezuelans. Each official at the Centro dealt with specific
countries, and Venezuelan matters were my concern. A typical case was that of
the Cruz brothers, one about 22 years old, the other a bit older. The usual
message was received at the Centro: Persons of such‑and‑such
description will arrive in Paris. They will contact Ernesto. Arrange for their
travel requirements.
Travelers
of this type were not met at the airport, so as not to reveal official Cuban
interest in them. They would phone an agente buzon upon their arrival, and then
proceed to whatever address he directed them. The agente would notify the Centro
that the men had arrived, and then one of the officials would go to see them
and arrange for their continued travel. The Centro was rarely told much about
the men: the reasons for their travel and sometimes even their true nationality
was usually not divulged, either by Havana or by the men themselves.
The
Cruz brothers arrived in Paris toward the end of 1968. I was assigned to take
care of them, and I went to see them at Alvarez's house, where they were
staying, in order to ascertain their requirements and obtain data to be used
in securing Czech visas. The two men were willing to talk, and I learned that
they had been with guerrillas in Venezuela for three years. Their view of the
revolutionary situation in that country was bleakly pessimistic: the
guerrillas had made no progress, they were receiving no popular support, and
because of internal dissension they had split into factional groups.
I
was surprised at the Cruzes' attitude toward Douglas Bravo, a Venezuelan
guerrilla leader who had received a large amount of laudatory publicity in the
Cuban press. They said that Bravo had spent little time in the mountains, and
not done much fighting, preferring to remain hidden in the cities. Bravo, the
Cruzes reported, had gone up into the mountains on one occasion when a group of
Cubans and Venezuelans was infiltrated from Cuba. "The Cubans identified
themselves, gave their names and ranks, only to Bravo," the Cruzes
related. "But the next day everyone in camp knew this information. Bravo
talked too much."
The
effort by Cuba's Ernesto Guevara to develop a guerrilla movement in Bolivia is
now a matter of history. It is also well‑known that Guevara envisioned
"two, three or many Viet Nams" in the hemisphere. What has not
previously been revealed is that, in order to achieve this goal, Cuba planned a
two‑pronged attack on South America. The first prong was to emanate from
Bolivia, the second from Venezuela. Guevara was not the only high‑ranking
representative of the Castro regime involved right on the scene of action. At
approximately the time Guevara was preparing to go to Bolivia, two members of
the Central Committee of the Cuban Communist Party were infiltrated into
Venezuela to assist the guerrillas operating there. The Cubans were Raul
Menendez Tomassevich and Orestes Guerra Gonzalez, both of them comandantes,
highest rank in the Cuban Army.
The
two officers came through Paris separately in 1968 en route back to Cuba. They
were tired, in poor physical shape, and altogether disillusioned about the
Venezuelan effort. Tomassevich was the first to come to Paris, arriving in the
summer. Because of his rank, he was in the charge of the ambassador, although I
had an opportunity to chat with him. Our acquaintanceship dated from an odd
circumstance: in Havana, we both had patronized the same shooting gallery on
the Prado. Tomassevich spoke of his disappointment with the Venezuelans, and
told of a problem much like that encountered by Guevara in Bolivia. The
Venezuelans distrusted Tomassevich precisely because of his high rank,
believing that he was not there to help them, but rather to take command of the
guerrilla movement. "They would not believe that we Cubans had come only
to fight as soldiers," Tomassevich complained. "Nothing progressed. Always
there were the misgivings, the fears that the Cubans were going to take
over."
Tomassevich
was in Paris two days, after which the ambassador took him to Prague, and from
there he returned to Cuba. Tomassevich was about 44 years old, but during the
approximately three years spent in Venezuela he had aged considerably. He was
noticeably ill, and whereas in Cuba he had weighed about 180 pounds, his weight
was now down to about 130. He arrived in Havana in such poor shape that when
Raul Castro saw him he conceived one of his macabre jokes: he would announce
Tomassevich's death, put him in a coffin, and let other officers file by to pay
their last respects. Raul later thought better of the idea, and did not go
through with it.
Orestes
Guerra came to Paris after Tomassevich. Guerra also spoke of the unfavorable
state of the Venezuelan guerrillas: hungry, in hiding, out of contact with the
urban clandestine movements. The guerrillas had good weapons, but they were not
using them, they were not fighting. There were bitter divisions, with different
groups following different leaders. There was resentment against the Cubans,
and in one case a small Cuban‑Venezuelan group had set itself up
independently under a Cuban who used the name "Antonio."
Guerra
placed the blame for the guerrilla failure on a number of factors. He talked of
new policies by the Venezuelan government, which had eased repressive measures
and offered leniency to guerrillas who surrendered. At the same time, however,
there had been determined pursuit by the Venezuelan army of those guerrillas
who chose to remain in the hills. Guerra found much fault with Douglas Bravo,
saying: "He's the national leader of the revolutionary youth of Venezuela,
but he has betrayed the goals of the Revolution. He has never actively
participated in the guerrilla war, although he became famous as a guerrilla, as
if he were always fighting. He lives in the city, and he only goes up into the
mountains in order to get money when it is sent from Cuba, or to issue
instructions." Guerra was particularly indignant because of the belief
among the guerrillas that Bravo had gone capitalist and purchased a factory and
an apartment house‑presumably with the funds sent from Cuba for fomenting
revolution. (The reports on these matters presumably made in Havana by
Tomassevich and Guerra may well have been the reason for the drop‑off in
Cuban aid to Venezuelan guerrillas which seems to have occurred in 1969.)
Guerra
and another Cuban who had accompanied him from Venezuela were in my charge. I
flew with them to Prague, and there turned them over to the chief of the Cuban
Intelligence Center in that city. From Prague they would proceed home, via
Moscow.
One
of the mysteries of the Cold War was the disappearance of Colonel Francisco
Alberto Caamano Deno. Caamano had been the military commander of the rebels in
the 1965 uprising in the Dominican Republic. Subsequently, as part of a
political settlement, he was sent to London to serve there as Dominican
military attache. In October 1967 he made a trip to The Hague‑and
disappeared.
In
Paris, I received instructions to carry out a detailed survey of a section of
the city where a meeting of two important persons could be held, free of
possible surveillance by French Counter‑Intelligence. I was told that one
of the individuals was "Armando," a D.G.I. official in Havana who had
directed the Cuban end of the Guevara operation in Bolivia. Later I learned
that the second person was Caamano.
I
studied a route which Caamano could follow in Paris, along which D.G.I.
officials would be spaced in order to guard him. The actual meeting with
Armando would take place at a cafe.
On
the appointed day, the plan worked perfectly. Caamano dressed in mufti and
wearing a toupee that didn't quite match the rest of his hair, walked along the
prearranged streets under the watchful eyes of the officials. I was the final
official at the end of the route, near the cafe meeting place. I saw that
Caamano did not appear to be followed, and the meeting was held without
incident.
A
few days later I had occasion to go to Prague, and in that city I stayed in a
"safe" apartment used by D.G.I. I found that Caamano and Armando were
also there, preparing to go to Cuba. Clearly Caamano was to participate in a
new Cuban subversive plan, probably one directed at the Dominican Republic. It
may well be that Fidel Castro envisioned building Caamano into a second
Guevara.
Before
leaving Cuba, as preparation for my duty abroad, I had been briefed on how to
spot possible surveillance by French Counter‑Intelligence and how to try
to evade it. When I arrived in Paris, however, I found that the French did not
appear interested in the Centro and posed a particular problem. This was a
matter of some disappointment to the Centro officials: "The French are not
checking on us; they don't follow us. They don't think we're important."
As
it turned out, the French did not leave the Cubans in permanent limbo. One day
Roberto Alvarez Barrera (code name "Remigio"), a fellow official at
the Centro, came to me and said, "Am I seeing phantoms, or am I being
followed? " The earlier officials at the Centro had not received
specialized training in such matters as the tailing of people, as I had been
given. I went walking with Alvarez, and was able to ascertain that Alvarez was
indeed being followed. This was reported to Havana, and the Centro Principal
ordered that a detailed study was to be made of the surveillance. I went to
work watching the watchers: I noted the individuals involved, what they wore,
how well they operated, the cars utilized, whether license plates were
switched. I also noted where the French usually parked their surveillance
vehicles, as well as where men who were afoot stood waiting. I would watch
Alvarez when he left the Embassy, and sometimes I would watch from his fifth‑floor
apartment, observing whatever cars followed Alvarez as, by prearrangement, he
drove by in the street below.
Alvarez,
one of the sharper officials, had two fondnesses: he liked to dress well and he
enjoyed good music. He would ask me to accompany him on his shopping excursions
for suits and records. The French persisted in their surveillance, and Alvarez
would rarely go out alone. He became fearful that he might be kidnapped or an
attempt made to kill him. He knew that he was of special interest to the French
because he had been in contact with one of the student leaders in the riots
that had wracked Paris that May.
On
one occasion I went out with Alvarez, but left him afterwards in order to go to
a bookstore. I noticed a young man, blond, bespectacled, staring into store
windows ‑ despite the considerable cold of that day. I stayed in the
bookstore for a period of time, and then the man sauntered in and looked
around. Later I spotted the same person in one of the vehicles I knew was used
by French Counterintelligence.
If
the French were hoping to pressure Alvarez into leaving the country, they
succeeded in their design. Havana, apparently figuring he was of no further
utility in Paris, recalled him home.
French
interest in the Centro fluctuated. At times the officials were able to detect
no surveillance; at other times it was intense. Two types of street
surveillance were used. In one method, the person or persons doing the tailing
sought to avoid detection by remaining as inconspicuous as possible. In the
second method, the surveillance was carried out by several cars and persons
afoot, and there was no attempt at concealment. This method intended that the
person who was being tailed know that he was under close watch, and it was
usually aimed at limiting that person's activities. ('The Cubans called this
type of tailing japonesa‑perhaps the Japanese like to utilize it.) I
found that in evading surveillance, the great and unruly Parisian traffic was
my best ally. I could lose myself among the many vehicles, and the most
skillful of tails was unable to follow me.
I
became convinced that the French were not unduly concerned about the activities
of the Centro, except as these pertained directly to French affairs. The French
kept watch, not only by surveillance and probably by wiretapping and electronic
eavesdropping, but also through the utilization of some of the Centro's own
contacts as double‑agents. Most of the Cuban staff were poorly trained,
or not trained at all; they committed errors. After they had been in Paris a
while they became too confident and tended to underestimate Counter‑Intelligence,
and often did not take proper security precautions.
The Cubans overlooked a vital fact: They were comparatively new at the game. The French had been at it for centuries.