MEXICO: Don't Hit My Face

A thin-faced man in dusty clothes stood last week in a courtyard near Vera Cruz. He blinked nervously before a group of photographers and then turned to a file of brown-skinned soldiers.

"At this solemn moment," said he, "I wish to be an example for the army. I die tranquilly, with the knowledge that I did what I believed to be my duty, but I counsel all not to follow my course. Now boys, shoot here"−he held his hand over his heart−"don't hit my face."

Rifles cracked. A moment later the rebel General Jesus M. Aguirre, who captured and later fled...

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