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Title
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The Second Invasion of Cuba [Part II]
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Date
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April 1940
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volume
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5
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issue
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2
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pages
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1, 7
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content
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en
THE SECOND INVASION OF CUBA
An informal account of the Cuban-American fencing matches of 1939
By MIGUEL A. DE CAPRILES
Captain of the A.F.L.A. team
(Continued from last issue)
THE FOIL MATCH
In my Captain's Report, I have given the details of the bouts and of the judging. But the figures cannot tell the thrills of the foil match. Young and scrappy Taboada leads Jose in the first bout 4–2, with only thirty seconds to go, as his sharp-breaking attacks keep our lead-off man on his heels. Jose’s two lightning lunges against the preparation tie the score a bare second before the end of the regulation 15 minutes. When Jose finally delivers the coup de grâce, over 25 minutes of actual fencing time have elapsed. The second bout is another overtime uphill battle, as Barrena leads Carfagno 4–2 as “two minutes” is called. Ed’s magnificent counter-sixte parries and disengage ripostes earn him the victory. Ramon Fonst tells me: “Carfagno does not look as good as he is on the strip—he is very much a fencer!” And that is the highest praise one may get from Cuba’s renowned World and Olympic Champion.
Carlos Lamar, however, is the outstanding foilsman of the match, and our collective hats are off to his performance. Better known in this country as an épéeist, Lamar demonstrates what can be done with any weapon by a truly fine strategist and heady fencer. He keeps his team in the running and emerges personally unbeaten. In his bout with Jose, he makes two counter-time stops in opposition that are gems of perfect execution. A gallant champion in a losing cause.
Barrena gives us another scare in his bout with Jose, leading 4–2, but Jose rallies and wins again.
Taboada puts on another thriller in his bout with Heiss. Gus leads 4–2, when a pair of lightning one-two attacks, perfectly timed, tie the score. At the command of play, Taboada is off like a shot, with a feint of coupé; but he has hardly moved before Gus’ blade bends double on the Cuban’s chest. Ed Carfagno clinches the match, leading Taboada all the way. In the last bout, I relieve Heiss against Barrena—who incidentally is a professor at the University of La Habana—and I take a well-administered beating from my colleague. In retrospect, I feel we are lucky to win. Suppose that Taboada had “stalled” for 30 seconds in the first bout? … Or that Barrena were at full physical strength in his first two bouts? We could easily have lost 6–3 or worse. The importance of the first two bouts overshadows the remainder. It was there and then that the match was won, and our team was lucky—lucky to have a pair of stalwarts like Jose and Ed fighting coolly and intelligently until victory was theirs.
—
Our one day of rest is the 27th. On the morning of the 28th the fencers of the Congress of Cuba entertain us at the beautiful Capitol, which houses a small but delightful fencing room. There is a bronze plaque which reads “SALA DE ARMAS RAMON FONST.” Curiously enough, the SALLE is in charge of the diminutive but fiery Maestro Rivas—the only man ever to fight a duel with the redoubtable Fonst. The naming of a fencing room after a leading amateur is intriguing. Perhaps some day we shall have a "Salle d'Armitage."
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THE ÉPÉE MATCH
The American consul and his wife come to the fencing. Lamar and Heiss open the match with a tie, as the 15-minute time limit expires with the score at 4-all. Jose has an easy time with Sardina, who is far below his effectiveness of last year. Garate wins over Armitage when time expires and he is leading 4–3.
Two unfortunate incidents: I notice that time goes very fast after the two-minute call. I check with the new timekeeper at the desk and find that there has been no “time out” during the discussions of the jury. We let the results stand, and the error is not repeated. Then, when I am directing, there is a commotion because I abstain on a touch after the judges’ disagreement and annul a hit in the other direction. Some of the inactive fencers confuse the question of “benefit of the doubt” with the rule requiring the award of a double touch when both fencers have been hit and the director has no opinion on time. So they tell me that a touch cannot be annulled in épée. The question is satisfactorily settled—except for some stupid and ignorant remarks in the audience which I have the misfortune to overhear and understand.
Garate and Jose, the two leading scorers last year, put on a beautiful scrap, and neither shows definite superiority. Garate goes into the lead, 4–3, and then tries to surprise Jose with a flèche. But Jose parries in a high counter-sixte, and ripostes to the leg to tie the score. Suddenly, a long opposition thrust in sixte reaches Garate’s upper arm, and Jose wins again. I have only vague recollections of the other bouts. An impression that Gus’ arm is troubling him considerably, and that he is definitely unlucky in his bout with Garate. That Jose is fencing in top form—which Fonst says is the best in the Americas (Fonst is always generous in his praise). That Norman’s timing is not as good as in San Francisco, but getting better with each bout. I remember the last touch of the match: A false attack by Norman, a parry and counter-riposte in tierce, touching Sardina’s arm, which is a pippin.... Sardina’s dejection at his poor showing.... Garate and Lamar fighting their hearts out to the bitter end. But our team is clearly superior this time, and the victory gives us the series.
—
A quiet celebration in the form of an impromptu visit to the Casino Nacional. Dorothy and I act as “Stooges” for an Arabian magician—who performs a trick like the late Douglas Dexter’s famous “lemon trick” (you may remember Dexter of the British team, who won our outdoor epee championship in 1934). The next morning, a visit to Morro Castle with George Worth. The commanding officer of the Military Academy, Col. Soca, personally escorts us through the old fortress. Worth remembering:—the welcoming salute of Col. Soca to Lt. Heiss; and Lt. Heiss’ farewell salute to Col. Soca. We are tendered an official luncheon at the Havana Yacht Club. It is raining a tropical rain. … That’s a lot of rain.
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THE SABRE MATCH
The very first bout sets us back on our heels, as left-handed Manalich upsets our national champion. I settle down to a hard fight with Garate and win after the score is tied at 3-all. Then greased lightning hits Ed Carfagno, as George Worth, fencing confidently and with the elan of a champion, rushes to a one-sided victory. (This, however, is no reflection on Ed, as the same thing happens to Norman and me.)
Things look black for us when Norman loses to Garate and I take my licking from Worth. Ed halts the onrushing Cubans with a hard-earned 5–4 win over Manalich, in a bout that might have ended 5–1 if a perfect counter-riposte had not been mistakenly awarded. Then Worth’s third and deciding victory, as the agile Hungarian sweeps to a 4–0 lead over Armitage and wins 5–1. Worth plays to the gallery and the crowd loves him and cheers him at every turn. We congratulate our conquerors on their magnificent comeback in the weapon in which they supposedly had no chance. Such is the stuff that has made our two encounters with the Cubans memorable events. In the seventh bout, Lorant (another Hungarian, who for 15 years lived in Italy and is now a resident of Cuba) replaces Manalich against me. He is definitely not another Worth, being slow and having no strong attack, so the bout is an easy victory. In the final bout, Jose substitutes for Ed, and Garate takes revenge on the younger and abler de Capriles in a well-earned triumph.
We are a subdued group of men as the medals are awarded by Ramon Fonst at the gracious insistence of the Director of Fencing in the Government’s Sports Department, Professor Fernando Alonso, fencing master to His Excellency the President of Cuba. When we discuss the matches later, Norman is quite low of mind, unable to explain his slump. I decide that I am not such a good prophet after all. But we all agree that the matches were all that anyone could ask—close, exciting, unforeseeable as to results. May we have many more of them!
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FAREWELL
Our farewell luncheon to the Cuban fencers and officials is held on the 30th. We are presented with lapel buttons of the F.N.A.E.C.; we exchange arm emblems with our opponents. Ramon Fonst is so touched at the presentation of the A.F.L.A. medal that he cannot speak. Cheers greet Jose’s spontaneous gift of his foil medal to Carlos Lamar, whose splendid performances had been on losing teams. The Cubans ask about John Huffman, whom they liked and admired so much last year, and whom they miss now. I tell them we missed him too, and could have used his steady strength to advantage! Genuine friendship and fencing talk make the hours fly ... and soon it is time for us to visit Col. Marine at his beautiful home, and to go on board, as the ORIENTE sails at 2 a.m.
The return trip is uneventful. We give a short but effective exhibition which is attended by a capacity crowd and is very well received. There are rumors that Norman has made a conquest—of a 17-year-old athletic young lady who apparently is fascinated by the neatly waxed mustache.
Good old Van is waiting for us at the Pier, having risen from a sickbed to meet the boat. Like a fond parent, welcoming the kids back home. A heartwarming end to another adventure.
