In Central Park

The three tipsy U.S. Navy sailormen left off swigging rum in the open-air cabaret opposite the Capitol, crossed to Havana's Central Park, and amused themselves tossing coins to scrambling urchins. It occurred to one that he could probably climb to the top of the soft, statue in the park; he completed the feat amidst cheers from the youngsters and park idlers. Blearily, he plunked his white hat on the hatless marble head of Jose Marti, the No. 1 hero of Cuba's war for independence. Down below, his drunken shipmates casually relieved themselves among the flowerpots and hedges.

There was an angry stir in the crowds. Someone yelled that a U.S. sailor had urinated on the head of Cuba's hero. A band of students, hearing the uproar, rushed over, grabbed glasses and bottles from bars, bombarded the stranded bluejackets. Only fast police work saved the sailors from lynching. Other police had their hands full breaking up mobs and rescuing wandering sailors on liberty from visiting U.S. warships.

Through the night and the next day, sensation-seeking politicians and radio commentators whipped Cuban emotions. Newspapers front-paged pictures of the sailor perched on the statue, printed yards of invective against the "barbaric yanqui vandals." Shouted Senator Eduardo Chibas: "Neither American nor men, but beasts." The Communist daily Hoy went into an anti-American frenzy, devoted its entire front page to violent denunciations.

Next morning, before U.S. Ambassador Robert Butler could apologize for his countrymen's disgraceful behavior, 200 University of Havana students massed in front of the embassy, fired stones through a window, tried to haul down the U.S. flag, yelled: "Out with the yanquisl" Shirt-sleeved students gave Butler an angry escort as he drove first to the Ministry of State, then to Marti's statue, where he planted a wreath of yellow dahlias (cost: $50, paid by the Navy) and read an apology in English: "[I wish to express my very profound regret at the unfortunate conduct of several sailors of the U.S. Navy." "Out!" snarled the students as the ambassador's car rolled away. Presently the wreath was torn to bits.

Storms pass quickly in the Caribbean. At week's end, riotous carnival* parades wound their way once more past Marti's statue in Central Park. The warships, with the three culprits in the brig, sailed for home, while the captains pondered measures to make their men behave as disciplined Navy men should. The conservative press pointed out that radio speakers had stirred the people up in "a hysterical manner." Minister of State Carlos Hevia accepted U.S. apologies. But Cubans would not forget the incident for years; the Communists would see to that.

* In Cuba, carnival does not end with the first day of Lent but is celebrated on the four succeeding Sundays.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.