Somewhere in Bolivia, 1966

My dearest Aliusha, Camilo, Celita and Tatico,

I write to you from far away and in great haste, which means I can’t tell you about my latest adventures. It’s a pity, because I’ve met some very interesting friends through Pepe Caiman. Another time …

Right now I want to tell you that I love you all very much and I remember you always, along with mama, although the younger ones I almost only know through photos, as they were very tiny when I left. In a minute I’m going to get a photo taken so that you know how I look these days – a little bit older and uglier.

This letter should arrive about the time Aliusha has her sixth birthday, so may it serve to congratulate her and hope that she has a happy birthday.

Aliusha, you should study hard and help your mother in everything you can. Remember, you are the oldest.

Camilo, you should swear less as in school you shouldn’t speak like that and you have to learn what is appropriate. Celita, help your grandmother around the house as much as you can and continue being as sweet as when we said goodbye – do you remember? How could you not. Tatico, you should grow and become a man so that later we’ll see what you make of yourself. If imperialism still exists, we’ll set out to fight it. If it is finished, you, Camilo and I will take a vacation on the moon.

Give a kiss from me to your grandparents, to Miriam and her baby, to Estela and Carmita, and here’s an elephant-sized kiss from …

Papa

Unfortunately, he never had this vacation on the moon. And imperialism still exists.

Why? Probably because he was taken away so early and not too many men like him came around.

Ernesto "Che" Guevara died on the eve of a crucial year in the second half of the twentieth century, 1968, when for the first time everything seemed possible, and for the first time the youth of a large slice of the world engaged in short-lived but far-reaching revolts that "Che", more than anyone else, would come to personify.

"Che" Guevara’s death gave meaning to his life. Without his execution at the hands of Lieutenant Mario Teran in the dark and damp schoolroom at La Higuera, he would still have achieved epic feats and lived a glorious life, but his face would not appear on millions of T-shirts decades later.

He never asked for it. All he wanted was freedom and equality.

Was it too much to ask for?

I guess back then it was too much. And today it’s even more.

Revolutionary greeting.