For Which He Stands: The True Tale of the CIA, Castro and a Catholic

The Brigade 2506, the armed wing of the Cuban Democratic Revolutionary Front, consisted of over 1,400 paramilitary personnel who attempted to overthrow Fidel Castro in Cuba in 1961, shortly after his promises to bring democracy to the island were quickly revealed to be a ruse.  The Bay of Pigs invasion, spearheaded by U.S. President Dwight D. Eisenhower, was funded by the Central Intelligence Agency.  

The soldiers (mostly businessmen and students) were Cuban exiles who included a physician named Jose "Pepin" Almeida, and found themselves overwhelmed by a surprise counterattack by Castro's militia. The landing on the beach at Playa Giron was not the expected coup, but rather a bloody massacre, abetted by President John F. Kennedy's withdrawal of air support.  

Pepin and some comrades survived the attack and wandered a swamp for over one week, weary and starving and perhaps praying for death.  The Brigade was eventually captured, given an unfair trial,  and imprisoned by the militia.  First in Habana then Modelo, on the Isla de Pinos.

For Which He Stands: The True Tale of the CIA, Castro and a Catholic, published in 2001 is told from Pepin's perspective, mainly during the agonizing stretches in prison (at times in solitary confinement), where his spirit wilted but never folded.  Where he shared filthy cells with said comrades, all of whom tried to organize routines for their sanity and resolve.  Interspersed are recollections of growing up in Habana in the 30s, 40s, and 50s.  As author Karen Alea writes, "Catholicism was something you were born into in Cuba."  Pepin's faith is tested beyond what most of the devout would ever face, and is an integral part of this story.

Alea's style is vivid from opening until closing.  The events of the counterrevolution, as the men scurry and take cover from hailstorms of bullets as the coup goes south, are thrillingly rendered, but the weight of the mounting tragedy mitigates any traditional action narrative excitement.  A monumental betrayal handed to Cuban patriots, who were unaware that the second and third bombing campaigns targeting Castro's planes were canceled.  And that CIA intel was faulty.  

Then the account of prison life, leavened with loving passages devoted to Pepin's wife Toty, who would not be sure if she would see her husband again.  The unspeakable fear and tedium of incarceration.  The psychological horror, all too willingly encouraged by prison guards.  

I've known Karen Alea (now Ford) for about fifty years.  One of the few truly consistently genuine (and genuinely friendly) folks I've encountered.   I first met her on the school bus that took us to a small private school  affiliated with our Baptist church.  We both grew up there, singing in the choir and hanging in the youth group.  We also attended the same public high school.  Her own life has taken some interesting turns regarding religious faith that can be discussed elsewhere.  I reconnected with her on Facebook about fifteen years ago and in 2018 my wife and I met up with she and her husband outside of Nashville, where they've lived for some time.  It was during that visit that she gave me a copy of her book, one I consider a taut, meditative, and compulsively readable document not only of a really dark chapter in Cuban and American history, but also of an indominable spirit in the face of it.