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Veterans Tour Nicaragua

By Ray Parrish

(These articles are the result of an 8-day tour of Nicaragua by a group of 11 veterans; although mostly Vietnam vets there were other veterans of U.S. ventures, united by a desire to help prevent another military involvement in Central America. A number of different groups were represented as were all section of the U.S. The following articles were written by the VVAW representative, Ray Parrish of Chicago.)

"We Won't Be Fooled Again!" "U.S. Veterans Against Intervention!" "Reagan—No More Lies!" "America—Do You Know Where Your Boys Are?" "No More Vietnams!"

These were the placards held by eleven members of the ad hoc group of Veterans Against Intervention in Central American during our December 1 demonstration in front of the U.S. Embassy in Managua, Nicaragua, a demonstration that marked the transition from fact-finding tour to a campaign to demonstrate our solidarity with the people of Nicaragua and with the goals of their revolution. For me it was the beginning of the day that I will never forget.

We stayed up late the previous night discussing our feeling and observations, writing a press release and making the placards

For the three days before the demonstration we interviewed many people. Nuns, an ex-priest, ordinary people, refugees, a newspaper editor, soldiers and government leaders. All that we had seen led us to a unanimous conclusion, simple to state bur horrible to contemplate: The U.S. government is waging a war of terrorism against the people of Nicaragua.

This war being waged is not intended to change the policies of the Nicaraguan government or to topple it or to stop support for the Salvadorian rebels next door to Nicaragua.

This war being waged is not intended to change the policies of the Nicaraguan government or to topple it or to stop support for the Salvadorian rebels next door to Nicaragua. It is intended to punish the people of Nicaragua for having the courage and will to oust a U.S.-puppet dictator and to take their future into their own hands.

Lexicon

The Victory: July 19,1979, at the time the presidential palace fell; Somoza had fled the day before.

The struggle: The years leading up to the Victory. Some date it from 1927 when Sandino began his struggle.

The Revolution: The Nicaraguan people view the present as a revolution; not armed struggle but a concerted effort to restructure their society along more egalitarian lines.

Demonstration

When we arrived at the U.S. Embassy there was already a crowd there. The American residents had held a rally two weeks earlier and hoped to make it a regular event depending on U.S. foreign policy. They made our vet delegation the centerpiece supplied us with poster material.

For some reason we all just lined up, blocking the Embassy gates; we hadn't planned our positions earlier. WE could see the Americans standing on the inside, in civies with short hair. They didn't seem pleased to see us.

We delivered our prepared statement in both English and Spanish. We told the people of Nicaragua that they had impressed us all with their unswerving commitment to their revolution and national independence. We told them of our conclusion that the U.S. government was and is lying to the American people. We assured them that when told the truth, the people of the U.S. would condemn the actions of their own government and stand in solidarity with the people of Nicaragua. We urged them to continue their struggle for social justice and pledged our support for these efforts.

After the prepared statement we sand a few songs and a few of us made individual statements to the crows of about 150 people. My own comments centered around the U.S. government's continuing betrayal and abandonment of the GI's that it uses to carry out its militaristic policies. I reminded the people, including the plainsclothes Marines in the Embassy compound of Agent Orange, post-traumatic stress disorders, and the multitude of other problems faced by GI's and veterans. I asked the international media present to talk to one of the vets with us, Anthony Guarisco, a victim of the atom bomb tests in the Pacific. Anthony is now organizing similar veterans worldwide.

Four of us wore VVAW buttons and patches. As we left the Embassy gates I turned and yelled, "Hey Sarge!" The biggest "civilian" with the shortest hair on the other side turned to me. I smiled and said, "See you in the VA hospital, assuming any are left when you get out." He stared at me with an uncertain grin on his face.

WE left for the Honduran border right after the demonstration. A long trip like that tends to emphasize conversation and scenic snapshots. We were all nervous because the "contras" had been raiding the border area and trying for the umpteenth time to take and occupy Jalapa, our destination. They wanted to set up a provisional government and call for U.S. aid and troops. I heard somebody mutter "Hue." Our guide, an American named Colleen, couldn't understand the sudden silence, but she respected it with a confused glance.

The farmlands and savannah around Managua gave way to higher elevation scrub land and cattle. Soon the pine and rain forests took over. We got to Ocatal and discovered that we weren't going to Jalapa. A band of terrorist were working the road we would have had to take, in a military truck due to its roughness. We didn't argue, just asked for a different destination.

Lost Manos was the safest and we got a small armed guard to take us there. Those among us with the experience commented on the "triple canopy" we were driving through. I could see the eyes of the Nam vets click into scanning mode. Our nerves grew even tighter when our jeep escort stopped and handed the lieutenant on our bus two more clips for his AK.

The border ran through the outskirts of the nearly deserted town. When asked why they remained in the face of such danger, the citizens pointed to the ripe coffee beans all around us. "Our soldiers will protect us and we need the foreign currency these beans will bring us." Their faces were solid and many of them were armed.

At the demonstration I was wearing a black beret and was the only one in camouflage. I was hoping that that would get the VVAW patch I was wearing in the papers. At Los Manos I felt like a bullseye. I walked alone up to the customs house on the Nicaraguan side of the border. One hundred yards away the Honduras crouched behind sandbags and pointed their weapons at us. He others liked like tourists, enough to make me brave. I scrounged tacks and staples from the remains of a bulletin board and posted a VVAW patch. The CIA probably got it back to the States before we got back.

After talking to the militia and families there, we heaved a collective sigh and headed back.

We stopped at a militia training center a few miles inside the border. By now we all knew enough Spanish to tell people who we were and why we were there. The respect and enthusiastic camaraderie we received from our brothers-in-arms spread smiles across all our faces. We gave away the last of our American cigarettes and as much encouragement as one soldier can give another. I ripped my last VVAW patch off my jacket for their company bulletin board. We left there knowing that these men and women wouldn't mistreat American GI's if such an opportunity should arise. They knew that it was the government, not the people of American who were the real villain.

Our last stop that day was back in Ocatal. WE thanked our escort and visited Radio Segovia. It's a small station and the Honduras were jamming it, but we were told that Americans stationed in Honduras could hear it. Five of us spent over a half hour telling of our experiences and emotions over the past few days. We addressed both Americans and Nicaraguans, and tried to construct a feeling of sympathy between the two.

We used our own mistreatment at the hands of the U.S. government as an example of what GI's could expect in their future. We stopped short of urging desertion, useless under the circumstances. However, we did give our brothers a lot of thing to think about. Our comments were recorded to be rebroadcast once a new and more powerful transmitter was installed. We were also invited to send the station any records or tapes we could spare. It's not a bad idea at all.

As we travelled back to Managua that night many emotions ran through my mind. There was the love of a people for their nation and their fellows. There was the hate u felt towards the waste and death of such futile wars, and the pride a people feel when their courage gains their independence. And there was the shame I felt to know that my taxes go to help shatter their dreams. We shared with the Nicaraguans a mixture of hope and despair when we contemplated what would be needed to end the U.S. was against them. But we also shared the resolve to do just that.

The Revolution

We began the week talking to Justinian Liebl, a former priest and Wisconsin native who served in parishes throughout Nicaragua since 1955. Now he works in an agrarian education program. He explained the role that the church played in the Revolution.

Over two-thirds of the priest and half the bishops are non-Nicaraguan. These formed both the literal and the figurative heart of the "Liberation theology" movement. The Nicaraguans entering the church needed the patronage of the rich in order to enter and rise in the hierarchy of the church. As a result their biases were largely oriented to maintaining the power of their "patrons," not the peasants they were supposed to serve.

The foreign priests, nuns, and lay people brought in the rhetoric and ideas of liberty and quality. Today such ideas are associated with "communist" expansion in the U.S. since much of the vocabulary is used in Marxist rhetoric, especially in developing nations. It's ironic that 200 years ago we used similar words in our own revolution. Today's reality is a nationalistic movement striving for freedom from outside exploitation and repression. U.S. corporations don't view it in political terms: they now make only a 15% profit in Nicaragua, better than in the U.S. but nowhere near the 60% return they were getting under Somoza in return for some modest bribes.

On Human Rights

We discovered that there were several "Human Rights" commissions in Nicaragua. One is headed by Jose Espinoza Gonzalez. He released a list of 700 people who have disappeared since the July 1979 Sandanista victory. An enterprising reporter found all but 60 of people in Miami, Honduras, and Argentina. If all the 60 remaining people were killed during the final weeks of the struggle, then we should praise the embittered campesinos for their restraint. This is also the group which called for OAS intervention in Nicaragua.

We had a long talk with Mary Hartman, a nun, who works for the National Commission for the Protection and Promotion of Human Rights, the most independent such group. After the victory 7,500 of Somoza's Guardia Nacional were tried. All but 2300 have served their time and been released; none have been executed.

We visited a prison honor farm where 40 ex-guards worked. There were no armed guards and the Prisoners worked in their fields and shops to support themselves and earn money to send to their families. They were allowed to spend a week at home every 6 months; family visits were a weekly event. Some of them were serving sentences of over 20 years. Both the prisoners and the Sandanistas views the ex-guardians as victims of Somoza. They were working together to overcome the stigma and biases of their past.