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73 Tamale Ridge by: Chuck Cusimano

Guerra didn’t answer. He motioned for Raul to try sneaking up closer to the mouth of the cave.

I started to go with him and Guerra put his hand on my shoulder.

“Señor? Are you good with the rifle?” he asked.

“Good enough,” I responded.

“Bueno! You keep watch on the small brush to the left of the cave entrance. That is where he

will have to come out,” he said.

I asked him,

“Is there another way in from above?”

“Si, but it very small, I don’t think a man could fit….” I was already gone.

I slipped behind some rabbit brush and small boulders for twenty yards and then some bigger

trees hid me. I kept on running toward the side of the sand rock cliff and up the side to the west

of the cave entrance. The man inside couldn’t see me but Guerra could. I made a motion to

Francisco as if to say “what now?”

He motioned me back and kept it up until I saw the hole he was talking about. He wasn’t

kidding! That hole was not much bigger than a badger hole and quite a ways from the cave

entrance. I figured the man must be close to the entrance so he could keep an eye on the ones

outside. I worked at a couple of loose rocks and felt them give way to my pressure. It took at

least thirty minutes but I finally got a hole in which I might be able to crawl into. I left my rifle

lying on the ground by the hole and tried to get into the hole. I had to go in head first and keep

clearing rocks and dragging them out of the hole.

Another twenty minutes, before I found myself looking down into blackness like I had never

seen before. I was at least ten feet below the surface and holding on with just my hands. Before

I got all the way into the hole, I was hearing sporadic gun fire. Now I couldn’t hear anything

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