Whenever I hear about Guantanamo, I always wonder how the US Navy ended up with such a perfect natural harbor on one end of the most brutal, oppressive and dangerous communist island in the world. Moreover, how does the United States maintain its position there while the Castro family has spent half a century trying to devise ways to get rid of us? To satisfy my curiosity, I did some research. Like so many other world-changing aspects of history, the security of our base at Guantanamo can be traced to one man–determined, aggressive, and fearless.
United States Marines planted the first American flag at Guantanamo Bay during the Spanish-American War in 1898, in which Cuba gained independence from Spain. The new Cuban government, in 1903, signed a treaty that leased Guantanamo Bay to the United States to use as a coaling station for American naval forces. The United States was to have complete jurisdiction and control over Guantanamo Bay in perpetuity. Only by abandoning the base could the United States abrogate the treaty.
For many years, the landlord-tenant relationship was mutually beneficial. In exchange for an excellent harbor on the west coast of Cuba, the United States pumped money into the Cuban economy, paying rent; buying food, water, building supplies and other goods from Cuba; and employing thousands of Cubans in the base civilian work force.
In 1959, the situation changed radically. Fidel Castro, briefly imprisoned for a previous attempt at insurrection, finally succeeded in overthrowing the government of dictator Fulgencio Batista, and instituted a communist system increasingly dependent on Soviet aid. Castro nationalized hundreds of millions of dollars worth of American private property on the island, and the United States responded with a trade embargo. The Eisenhower and subsequent Kennedy administrations both wanted Castro out.
In April, 1961, an American-sponsored invasion by Cuban exiles at the Bay of Pigs failed when President Kennedy refused to authorize American air support. In October, 1962, an American U-2 reconnaissance plane detected Soviet missile launchers being erected in Cuba. A tense diplomatic showdown ensued, escalating to an American blockade against Soviet ships, and the world stood at the brink of war between nuclear superpowers. Ultimately, the Soviets agreed to dismantle their launchers, take back their missiles, and uneasy peace was restored.
Yet Castro, recently exposed as an enthusiastic and bellicose Soviet client, still had a large American naval base on the western end of his island nation, reminding him that he was not master of his domain. He was determined to rid himself of the American military presence.
Into this highly-charged atmosphere came the new Guantanamo Bay base commander, newly-minted rear admiral John D. Bulkeley. It was December, 1963, two weeks after the assassination of President Kennedy showed the world that its fate is never certain. Admiral Bulkeley commanded a garrison of 5,000 marines, sailors and Seabees and a squadron of Crusader jets with which to defend his 45 square miles of Cuban real estate from Castro’s 250,000-man military equipped with modern Soviet weapons, tanks, and MiG fighters. Of course, Guantanamo was backed up by military forces on the American mainland, but Bulkeley’s position was hardly favorable.
Bulkeley was not intimidated. During World War II he served in the Pacific, Atlantic and Mediterranean. Among other achievements, Bulkeley engaged and sunk Japanese and German warships, conducted secret missions on the coast of Fortress Europe, and was the PT boat skipper who delivered General Douglas MacArthur from Corregidor, through a cordon of Japanese ships and planes, to safety on Mindanao. By the end of the war, Bulkeley had been awarded a Silver Star, three Distinguished Service Medals, two Distinguished Service Crosses, the Navy Cross and the Medal of Honor. He was not the type to back down from a fight.
Castro tested Bulkeley in the first few days. Cuban engineers bulldozed 1100 feet of chain link fence on the perimeter, and Castro’s minister of state security sent Bulkeley a threatening message advising the Americans it would be “imprudent” to repair the fence. The reason for this incursion was that failing to repair the fence was considered “abandonment” by the treaty, and Castro could lay claim to Guantanamo if the Americans abandoned the base. If Bulkeley heeded the Cuban warning and did nothing, the United States could lose legal claim to the base. If he defied the Cubans, he could incite a shooting war with a Soviet ally.
Bulkeley ordered the fence repaired the next morning. The admiral, dressed in fatigues, stood shoulder to shoulder with two thousand well-armed marines at the break in the fence. His Crusaders were overhead, and four destroyers were in the bay, armed and ready for any Cuban reaction. There was none, and navy Seabees had the fence repaired before dark. Bulkeley had stood tall and Castro had backed down.
The Cuban government repeatedly incited the population with fabrications about American atrocities, incursions, and provocations–none of which were true, and none of which caused a popular uprising against the Americans. So in February, 1964, Castro seized control of the pumping station for Guantanamo’s fresh water supply (which was outside the Guantanamo perimeter) and shut off the tap. The Americans had been paying the Cuban government for the water since 1939, and Castro had kept the pipeline open even through the Bay of Pigs and the missile crisis to get the $14,000 monthly payment. But now Castro intended to drive the Americans out by drought.
Bulkeley instituted severe water restrictions for the ten thousand Americans (military personnel, their families, and civilian workers) on base, cutting the two million gallons used per day in half. Water tankers and barges shuttling back and forth from the United States and Jamaica brought millions of gallons per visit, and a desalination unit on one vessel supplied further water, but the base was far from self-sufficient. The crisis made American headlines, and during this presidential election year, there was plenty of bipartisan support for the base commander. President Johnson authorized immediate construction of a permanent desalination plant at Guantanamo.
With Bulkeley and Guantanamo holding out even without Cuban fresh water, Castro was on the verge of a public relations embarrassment–the Americans didn’t need his water. So he fabricated another scandal–he accused the Americans of stealing Cuban water through the old pipeline. Immediately, inquiries from the international press and the American State Department flooded Bulkeley’s office–“Are you stealing Cuban water?”
What neither Castro nor the gullible press knew was that Bulkeley had sealed off the old pipeline as a precaution against Castro restoring the flow with tainted or poisoned water. Bulkeley sensed a public relations victory of his own. He invited members of the press to Guantanamo, and had his engineers cut open the pipeline at the perimeter. It was bone dry, as it had been for at least a week. Castro was publicly caught in a lie, Bulkeley had again outsmarted him, and the world press was there to witness it.
Guantanamo’s desalination plant was completed by July, ensuring water self-sufficiency in perpetuity. Castro was furious–Bulkeley outmaneuvered him at every turn. When Cuban soldiers set up searchlights across the fence from a marine strong point, shining the intense beams into the eyes of the sentries to blind them, Bulkeley had a giant Marine Corps emblem placed on the front of the strong point. When the Cubans realized they were just lighting up the emblem of their enemies, they removed the searchlights.
Castro’s schemes continued, but Bulkeley frustrated them all. The Cubans even shot one of their own deceased soldiers and blamed the death on trigger-happy marines, but Bulkeley had clear evidence that the shot did not come from an American weapon. Castro’s frustration finally led him to put a $50,000 bounty on Bulkeley, dead or alive. It was never collected.
At any one of the crisis points in the first years of Castro’s reign, a less resolute officer might have buckled under the pressure. John D. Bulkeley was not prone to buckling. He steadfastly defended American interests with demonstrations (but never use of) of force, by ingenuity, and by exposing communist lies and propaganda.
Bulkeley had one advantage over contemporary officers. He enjoyed the full support of the American press, public and president. In the mid-60s American military victories, whether moral or martial, were celebrated by our nation. Presidents still honored officers who performed well under pressure, rather than second-guessing them. Citizens still cheered heroes, rather than questioning their motives. The press still trumpeted our triumphs, rather than questioning our principles.
Admiral John D. Bulkeley made it clear that America would never willingly give up Guantanamo Bay, and would fight to keep it. The legacy of his courage ensured our possession of Guantanamo Bay today. According to the treaty, only abandonment will return this important American base to the communists. If he were still around, Admiral Bulkeley would be astonished at how many Americans want to do just that.
For the full story on Admiral Bulkeley and his lifelong service to this nation, see “Sea Wolf, the Daring Exploits of a Navy Legend,” by William A. Breuer, Presidio Press, Novato, California, 1989
The American naval base at Guantanamo Bay has received plenty of attention in recent years, ever since we started hosting terrorists in pleasant Carribean detention there. Liberals and wobbly conservatives have called for shutting down the terrorist-holding facilities there for some sort of vague public relations purpose. I’m all for relieving the United States Navy of the responsibility of running a tropical retreat for our enemies, as long as they can be moved to some place more fitting–like Devil’s Island.
