• THEY pass us by on any street in Cuba. Their faces and their skin still evidence the passage of time, but their heroism remains intact, infinite, silent. No boasting; rather the subject has to be put to them to have them talk about the many nights and daybreaks of the thunder of enemy artillery, the decisive response of our troops, their movements endangered by convoys, minefields, low flying aircraft…..

It began in November 1975. The Alvor Agreement, intended to foster the decolonization process in Angola, was incapacitated from the outset by the pretensions of the reactionary forces in the service of apartheid to take this African territory.

At that crucial point, in a sovereign act, the leadership of the Communist Party of Cuba promptly responded to the request of Agostinho Neto, leader of the People’s Movement for the Liberation of Angola (MPLA), a genuine representative of his people, for the assistance of our internationalist combatants to guarantee and preserve the independence supposed by the withdrawal of the Portuguese.

The operation was named Carlota, in honor of the African slave who, in 1843, leading a group of other women slaves from the Triumvirato sugar mill in the Matanzas area of Cuba, had risen up with her machete in hand and was killed in the rebellion against the Spanish colonizers.

It was an unparalleled symbolism that, more than one century later, thousands upon thousands of Cuba’s sons and daughters showed a similar courage in crossing the Atlantic and the 14,000 kilometers of distance between our archipelago and the African nation.

That first mission to prevent the advance of the invaders to Luanda lasted for 15 years and six months, and it did not conclude until May 25, 1991, when our last internationalists returned home.

Over and above the 300,000 Cuban women and men who stepped on Angolan soil, the epic feat involved millions because, from our land, every family assumed with fortitude the departure of their loved ones, the sacrifices and the pain only compensated by the definitive victory, the preservation of Angola’s sovereignty, the conquest of Namibian independence, the end of apartheid.

It was a long and honorable mission which recorded many heroic episodes in countless places: Quinfangondo, Quibala, Sumbe, Cabinda, Cangamba, Luena, Huambo, Tchipa, Cuito Cuanavale, Calueque...

The words of Nelson Mandela during his visit to Cuba in the summer of 1991 will resonate forever: "Cuito Cuanavale marks an important step in the struggle to free the continent and our country from the scourge of apartheid."

The days of Cuito Cuanavale precisely made themselves memorable. A destroyed and uninhabited town. Even the ants had left, leaving behind as a trace their anthills, which turned into ovens for baking delicious bread, with which our cooks laughed in the face of danger. Good humor is the best weapon; it can do more than the rockets from G-5 and G-6 cannons. And, as if that was not enough, there were our BM-21s to respond effectively.

Nothing could be more incredible than the gratitude of the Angolan people and their armed forces, the FAPLA. That multitude which filled the streets of Luanda in January 1989, to bid farewell, amidst cheers and sobs, to the internationalist combatants who were returning to their homeland was not there by chance. In another gesture of humility, Cuba anticipated its withdrawal.

So many things to remember! How can we forget the visits of Comandante Fidel Castro in the very midst of battle, his accurate direction of the war in the crucial moments. How can we not believe that Comandante Domingos Da Silva, Raúl Díaz Argüelles to us, would call for a new struggle if our homeland required it. Undoubtedly the doctors, the teachers, the construction workers… live on in the minds of Joao, Gabriel, María, Iacopo, Walter... and of Francisco, the child who survived the Kassinga Massacre in 1978, and immediately joined the Cuban troops to have a life devoid of childhood.

The final days of the Cuban Military Mission in Angola (MMCA) close this chapter of decorum. Tremendous hustle and bustle in the port of Luanda. The maintenance and evacuation battalion of the MMCA put its technical capacity to the test for its re-embarkation to Cuba.

One major responsibility was borne by the bridge sentry units who, fighting off sleep, protected up until the last minute the access roads to the city, despite the mosquitoes – very contented between the water and the mangrove – and the solitary sparrows.

And as a symbol of Cuban-Angolan friendship, a monument of that name has been built on one of Luanda’s central avenues. It is the work of the deceased Cuban sculptor José Delarra, who was also a combatant in the land of Neto.