In late 1989, some lunatic in the army commanders in Cuba thought it would be a good idea to send to Angola for its "blank in a real theater" to a full course of precadetes of the FAR.
Actually they were adolescents from vocational schools called "Camilo Cienfuegos", without any training, except for cheap video films, with a huge paranoia heightened by the inexperience and naivete of age.
Since coming was over what was meant in those days as relative quiet in Huambo, was a firefight after another. They occupied a position adjacent to ours, there was no way to see the bastard TV.
Although most of the helicopter detachment was under the ground and in all positions around the airport in Huambo, was a combat alert after another, we would spend whole nights lying face down in the trenches, all muddy, wet and " fucking scared "not by enemy fire, but for the possibility of being shot by those rambo cartoons totally out of control.
Unfortunately, almost at midnight on December 31, 1989, an Angolan citizen known for the Cubans in the area became one of the "trails" free of mines in minefields surrounding precadetes our positions and opened fire as usual , severely wounding him.
At the time Huambo was then and still today remains one of the places in our world where there is more to mines and unexploded ordnance, without any control. The map are traced with each new detonation in most agricultural fields damaged by that war so senseless: the peasants, and especially children and women.
When the shooting stopped only heard the groans of the wounded. According to the existing protocol was strictly forbidden to enter a minefield at night, not even specialists could do before dawn. The rest of the night was spent listening to escaped her life to that person, until the silence was imposed. At sunrise the sappers entered the minefield, but it was too late.
(Testimony of the reader Noel)
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