It was Saturday, March 5, 1960. I put myself in the shoes of a dockworker who, like so many other workers, soldiers, militiamen and people, slowly and silently accompanied the coffins of the victims of the explosion that had occurred the day before in the port of Havana to the Colon cemetery, while the French steamship La Coubre, coming from Antwerp, Belgium, unloaded military supplies.

In the ears of many of the marchers, the deafening roar that shook the capital had not yet subsided, and it was impossible for them to banish from their minds the imposing image that resembled a mushroom cloud rising menacingly over the harbor, with a mixture of pieces of wood, metal, and shrapnel scattered everywhere as it fell. Another explosion followed. The event stirred hearts and asked the question: what was happening?

That worker was one of those who went to the site with fear, but without fear, to help in any way they could. No one thought of the danger at that moment, but the first rescuers were practically swept away by the second explosion. It was heartbreaking to see lifeless bodies, some blackened by the flames, others mutilated or missing: nearly 100 dead and 200 wounded, a terrible toll.

All of that flooded the minds of those who walked from the CTC to the Colon Necropolis, in a compact march led by the main leaders of the Revolution, holding each other’s arms tightly. Any one of them could have died, because they immediately appeared at the scene of the incident. Ché was helping the wounded outside the pier, and Fidel and Raúl were 300 meters away when the second explosion occurred…

What had happened? An accident? It didn’t seem possible to the docker. He himself had been involved in the handling of this type of cargo and nothing like this had ever happened. Soon the Commander-in-Chief himself would dispel his doubts.

They saw him climb onto the back of a tractor-trailer parked at the intersection of 23rd and 12th Streets, which had been converted into an improvised tribune, from which he delivered the words at the funeral honoring the fallen. Everyone was surprised by his meticulous account of the investigation that had been carried out without delay to determine the causes of the event, and how the evidence ruled out the accidental factor and pointed to a premeditated act by those who had insisted on preventing the Revolution from acquiring arms for its defense.

«We have the right to think,» Fidel said, «that among those concerned we must look for those responsible for the Cuban lives lost yesterday afternoon.

In addition to the pain shared with the families and colleagues of the victims, there was outrage at the evidence of sabotage. It was undoubtedly an act of terrorism, and the collective thought immediately arose that the CIA was behind it.

What to do? The feeling of powerlessness in the face of the crime subsided with Fidel’s words about the only possible attitude of the people in the face of any aggression: «Once again we would have no other choice than the one with which we began the revolutionary struggle: that of freedom or death. Only now freedom means something more: freedom means homeland. And our dilemma would be: Fatherland or Death!

Thus was born the slogan of the struggle, of the resistance. The crowd felt that the Historic Leader of the Revolution embodied in his words the conviction renewed that day: «Cuba will not be intimidated, Cuba will not retreat; the Revolution will not stop, the Revolution will not retreat, the Revolution will go forward victoriously, the Revolution will continue its unwavering march!