A contribution to the romantic mythos of the Latin American guerrilla--mostly chitchat of the cafe-sitting correspondent type, punctuated by Graham Greeneish judgments, ironies and dramatic contrasts. Fidel appears as an ""essentially Galician"" figure who ""doesn't belong to the Latin American continent""; Che was a ""Castroite-Sino-Trotskyite"" and ""vagabond anarchist"" who turned out to be ""too independent, too insolent, too autocratic."" Some day a guerrilla band may win. But probably they will keep getting wiped out, leaving the army, Church, and orthodox Communists in political charge. Evincing a rather morbid fascination with the violence in his subject-matter and an engaging preoccupation with the upper-class origins of guerrilla leaders (which stops short of Regis Debray's forebears, for some reason), Larteguy's blood-and-gore descriptions of ambush and assassination dampen his romantic framework, while little attempt is made to analyze Latin American politics or the dynamism of revolution; and the tales of Latin caudillos and Green Beret intrigues are insufficiently compensatory. Carleton Beals' Great Guerrilla Warriors (1969) is equally enthusiastic while offering more historical background.