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What follows is a letter from William Vincent to his parents dated December 26, 1935. William died in 1997. Tim Ord, William's nephew, transcribed this letter and sent it to me together with the photos below. Click on any picture to enlarge it. Maracaibo, December 26th 1935. Dear Mother and Dad, I told you that President Gomez
died on the 17th after being dictator of Venezuela for 25 years. On
the 18th and 19th things were quiet with the people
bewildered. The President of the State and other high Government officials left
for parts unknown and Colonel Pinto for some unknown The trouble started about 5 p.m.
and fighting lasted for about two hours and then the soldiers and police got
into an argument and started firing at each other with the result that every
policeman and soldier was withdrawn from the streets and the mobs found
themselves in undisputed control. The result was obvious. First they burst
into the saloons, took all the liquor and wrecked the places. Then being full
of Dutch courage they started on the shops which were full of Christmas goods.
They tell me it was a wonderful sight. There was no fighting and the people
were having a wonderful time. Scores were playing in the streets with toys
taken from the looted shops while hundreds were hurrying home staggering under
their loads. Cars were driving up, men would load up the car with whatever they
could lay their hands on then the cars would drive away. Shops owned by
Government officials were set on fire after they had been looted. A big store
on the waterfront was At 11 a.m. that morning the 23rd
Colonel Mayo appeared in the office to the consternation of the Executive as
half Maracaibo was searching for him and if the news got out that he was in the
Gulf office the Executive expected several thousand enraged Maracaiboites to
come out to get him. He has guts, that man, as he was the only high official
who hadn’t beat it. He was attended by a body guard of six, five with rifles
and pistols and the sixth man had a sub-machine gun. All work stopped whilst
everyone discussed the prospects of our getting our throats cut for harbouring
the most hated man in Maracaibo. While the discussion was going on six large
launches suddenly appeared and drew up at the dock in front of our office and we
were petrified to see about 300 armed men pour ashore and form up outside the
office. We recognized the man in command as Leon Jurado, President of the State
of Falcon (the Peninsular of Paraguana), and the toughest hombre in Venezuela.
Mayo had been expecting him because they all marched off together and on
reaching the town Jurado named himself Provisional President of this State and
the trouble, as far as this place was concerned, was over as what Jurado says
goes. In the meantime we were carrying on with our schedule except for the two ships standing by and we were making up our own Customs papers as the Customs men were either dead or in hiding. The people at Cabimas were very polite about things. The only Customs man working in Cabimas, practically a boy, was in Adams office checking overtime accounts when a gang of fifty men all armed with machetes came along the dock. About fifty yards from the office the gang stopped and six men advanced and politely asked Captain Adams if they could have the Customs man. Adams said that the matter had nothing to do with him so they took the Customs man away with them. However, they just marched him around the town, gave him an awful fright and then let him go. The Cabimas people are a much better class than those at Lagunillas. At Lagunillas they killed and burnt every policeman and Customs man they could catch. Our Berthing Master there hid the Chief Customs man and was able to get him away safely. Jurado arrived on the morning of the 23rd and the same afternoon he had got things so much in control here that he told the oil companies he would send soldiers to Cabimas and Lagunillas if the oil companies would provide transportation. Within practically a few minutes our mailboat LA RITA was packed with soldiers who landed at Cabimas and the trouble ended there. Then a Shell tanker arrived in Maracaibo and was immediately packed with soldiers after which she made full speed for Lagunillas. They soon had control there, and only just in time as the mobs had broken into the Gulf camp and were howling around the houses though no-one was injured as the people were given all the food they demanded. By the morning of the 24th Jurado had military control of the Lake while a Venezuelan gunboat arrived, anchored off Lagunillas and clinched things by landing marines with machine guns. That day the Lagunillas men declared a strike demanding the formation of a union, increase of pay, free water, light and houses, free hospitalization for themselves and their families, etc, etc. We couldn’t load our ships and they had to anchor off. I was on duty from 5 p.m. on the 21st until 1 a.m. on the 22nd. From 5:45 a.m. on the 22nd to 1 a.m. on the 23rd except for an hour off for a swim. I went on again at 7 a.m. on the 23rd and at 4 p.m. I asked JOW if I could go and get my hair cut and he said “No, it’s too far from a telephone, your hair will have to wait” so I was standing by until midnight. On the 24th I started at 7:30 and by 4 p.m. I was absolutely fagged out. The pressure on the telephone lines was so great that only Departmental Heads and Chief Clerks were allowed to use them and I was just about driven crazy. At 4 p.m. I went to my room and had a quiet cup of tea and a rest and the phone never rang once. At 5:15 the news came on from London and he had just said a few words when the phone rang and in the next 16 minutes I had five telephone conversations so what news I got was just a few words between calls. Then came the Christmas Eve party when I got to bed at 2:45 a.m. and back in the office at 8 a.m. on Christmas morning, worked until 11 a.m. then worked from 1:30 p.m. to 3:15 and lost my afternoon’s sleep.
One American has been fired. At the Club at about 10 p.m. on Christmas Eve he started a rumour that three Americans had been killed. Naturally the women got into a panic and he was kicked out of the Club. At 6 o’clock the next morning he was fired. Several of the shore staff have resigned through funk. So far as I know not a single foreigner was injured. Mayer, an Englishman at Lagunillas, was nearly killed. He is in charge of our Claims and Legal Division there and he had had to prosecute a man for stealing. This man found Mayer and made a slash at him with a machete but another Venezuelan knocked it aside and Mayer got away unhurt. Many Venezuelans took the opportunity to settle private feuds and any foreigners who were in the natives’ black books were ordered into Maracaibo. One hears all kinds of stories. I heard that one man was driving a car around the streets with a body lying over his radiator. A gang marched along with a policeman’s head stuck on a spike. They are a blood thirsty lot when they get started. One of our fellows, Smithson, was in Maracaibo last Saturday night and when things got too bad he looked for a car and found one and then wished he hadn’t because the other two passengers were ruffians with machetes and the driver had a nasty looking dagger close to his hand. The three of them had bottles of all kinds of looted liquor but they welcomed Smithson cordially and insisted that he help himself to the liquor. The driver was very drunk and he just missed everything on the road by an inch. Smithy was so glad to get back to camp alive that he gave the driver a bolivar, which was twice the fare, but Smithy was still up on the deal as he had drunk about three bolivars worth of whisky on the journey.
Cheerio, Bill P.S. Now that I’ve finished this letter I don’t know quite what to do with it. All letters are censored so I’ll have to try and get it posted at Aruba or Curacao. |
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