Cuba has not slept. Cuba has not slept for several days. This is a nation that is silent, that pays tribute, that honors.

For thousands, daybreak came earlier today. Cuba has had bright dawns for almost six decades.

In the Plaza de la Revolución José Martí there are already many people waiting, they have come to accompany their leader once again: Fidel, Alejandro, the man who became a people.

The ceremonial battalion awaits. They are young, very young, and they march impeccably.

At six o’clock the artillery salutes resound, as if to remind us that there is silence, because they sound louder, they move.

It’s also time to raise the flag. At half-mast, because it’s the moment of a great.

And then, the first lights. It is a calm dawn, cool as if to lull to sleep, because in the bosom of the Homeland, a good son is being sung a lullaby.

Upon leaving the Ministry of the Revolutionary Armed Forces, a friendly escort awaits, compañeros: Army Corps Generals, Leopoldo Cintra Frías, Joaquín Quintas Solá and Ramón Espinosa Martín.

The silence is interrupted with the cry of “Attention!” It’s just after seven on another November 30. It seems that the pages of Cuban history like coincidences, to ensure nothing is forgotten.

Two soldiers carry the treasure, wrapped in the flag of the solitary star, contained within cedar urn, and in gold letters a name is confirmed: Fidel Castro Ruz. A glass case is placed on top to protect the remains.

Behind them comes Raúl, the brother, the compañero, the family that arrives at the farewell before the departure toward eternity. Also there are friends from the struggle.

The carriage that will carry the ashes is dressed with white flowers. The soldiers, as if caressing it, place the urn. The friendly escort is already in position. The command is to mount. And they start moving.

Hundreds of kilometers await ahead, recalling in reverse the Caravan of Liberty that then celebrated the victory. And triumphantly he returns to Santiago, to be close to Martí.

The journey begins first toward the square, then a city, another, the whole of Cuba... Then begins the infinite cry of “Viva!” and “Glory!” to Fidel, to Alejandro, the man who became a people.