"I'll Be Back"

To the Chicago Tribune's Jules Dubois, it was pretty much the same old story: in nearly 30 years as a correspondent covering the political turmoil of Latin America, he had been mauled by Peronista hoodlums in Argentina, threatened by Panamanians, and beaten by Communist thugs in Guatemala. Last week he seemed about to be torn to bits by one of Fidel Castro's Havana mobs.

Dubois, 49, had been quite a while in earning the hatred of the Cuban mob. Among U.S. correspondents covering Castro, few had written more warmly during the early days of the revolutionary regime (Castro, reported Dubois, "has a deep reverence for civilian, representative, constitutional government"). But the longer Castro ruled, the more critical became Dubois, and Castro's Cuba lashed furiously back at him. Last September the National Federation of Gastronomic Workers ordered Havana waiters not to serve Dubois food or drink. Dubois took the ineffectual embargo (lifted after four weeks) in stride. Scoffed he: "I'll bring my own sandwiches." Next, barbers in Pinar del Rio province refused to cut Dubois's hair. That did not bother him; he hasn't much hair anyhow.

But then the campaign against Dubois began losing its comic aspects. Several weeks ago Havana's Radio Mambi started carrying, at 15-minute intervals, pleas for loyal Cubans to contribute their centavos to buy a huge bucket for Dubois to soak his head in. Anti-Dubois signs appeared on shop fronts on the Prado, Havana's main street. The press, especially the Communist daily Hoy, began denouncing Jules Dubois as a spy.

With that sort of talk, it could not be long before the Havana mob went after Dubois. Last week, as he sat writing a story in the downtown office of the American Cable & Radio Co., the throng appeared. Came the chant: "Do we want Fidel?" The answer: "Yes!" The question: "Do we want Dubois?" The answer: "No! To the firing squad!" Ducking out a rear door, Dubois was picked up by a military guard, led through the howling, spitting mob to a taxi and safety at the Havana Hilton Hotel. Back in his room, Dubois made light of the danger. Said he: "Tell the boys at home not to worry."

But the boys at home were worried. Next day came the announcement that the Tribune was pulling Dubois out of Cuba for a while. At the airport to see him off were the predictable hoodlums, shouting obscenities. There were also a few friends. "Don't worry," Jules Dubois told them, "I'll be back." Until he returns, his place will be filled by the Tribune's aviation editor, Wayne Thomis, who has never been to Cuba and has therefore made no Cuban enemies.

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