Don Andrés: The Puerto Rican centenarian is one of the last World War II veterans

Leer en español aquí.

LUQUILLO, Puerto Rico – Nestled between El Yunque National Forest and the shores of the ocean, lives Andrés González Vega, one of the last remaining World War II veterans.

Don Andrés, or “Dede,” as he is affectionately known in his hometown, the 101-year-old veteran was one of the nearly 16.4 million soldiers who fought in this conflict from 1941 to 1945 as part of the U.S. military.

González Vega, who still retains the lucidity and memory of a historian, recalls in detail how at age 18 he had to report to Buchanan, a military camp in San Juan. After a week of medical and physical evaluations, his name echoed over the camp’s loudspeaker.

“I was waiting for that call,” González Vega proudly remarked in his native Spanish. Lined up alongside all the other young Puerto Rican cadets, González Vega handed in his shoes, socks, pants, underwear, and shirt before leaving the camp to fight in the war.

Eighty years after the end of the war, only less than one percent of all World War II veterans still live. Don Andrés, who is currently writing a memoir, is one of them.

In his book, the veteran is documenting nearly a century of life with the help of his daughter, Julia González.

While having lunch with her father at home, González said it’s been a challenge for her father to write his memoir because Don Andrés “always likes to talk about the good things.”

However, life has its ups and downs, she said.

González Vega, who is known as a defender of Puerto Rican culture, chose to speak about his struggles and challenges. They both remember walking down the streets of New York and seeing signs reading “Puerto Ricans Go Home.” They also recalled the dozens of times they had to paint over their home after it was tagged with racial slurs like “Spic Go Home.”

The memoir will document Don Andrés’ time in the war, his experiences in New York as one of the founders of the iconic National Puerto Rican Day Parade, and his accomplishments in Puerto Rico as the creator of the Coconut Festival in Luquillo and a festival coordinator at the Institute of Puerto Rican Culture.

While eating his favorite chicken wings with tostones, Don Andrés nostalgically reminisced about the days when most Puerto Ricans walked barefoot through the countryside and fetched water from the well.

Born in Vieques on May 30, 1924, González Vega says that as a child, he would cross a river on his way to school and harvest the bananas and avocados he loved to eat with cod.

Despite living outside of Puerto Rico for 29 years, González Vega still considers himself a “jíbaro,” a peasant figure who in recent years has become a symbol of Puerto Rican folklore.

Known for wearing a distinctive straw hat known as “la pava,” jíbaros are people who lived in rural Puerto Rico until the 19th century and worked on farms. Today, artists like Bad Bunny, with his latest album “DeBÍ TIRAR MáS FOToS,” seek to highlight images and scenes depicting jíbaros like Don Andrés.

On the road to war

Upon completing his military training in the town of Gurabo, González Vega received an order: “Pack everything up, we’re going to leave.” Dozens of trucks began picking up the Puerto Rican soldiers and transporting them to San Juan. There, they all boarded a gigantic ship – he had never been on one before. At night, as they set sail, all they could see were the lights of the capital city.

“Goodbye, my beloved Borinquen, goodbye, my land of the sea, I’m leaving, but one day I’ll return,” he repeated melancholically, similar to the lyrics of the iconic song “En Mi Viejo San Juan,” as he recalled the day he left Puerto Rico for the first time.

González Vega, alongside thousands of other soldiers, arrived at the Guantánamo Bay military base in Cuba. They stayed there for several days until a naval escort took them to their final destination in Panama.

“Sometimes the sirens sounded, and they had to turn off all the lights, and everyone had to go down to their cabins and be quiet. Then, they told us there was a German submarine surrounding the ship. We had about three scares in Cuba, not knowing where we were going,” González Vega said. “I don’t know how many days, because the ship was coasting, until we reached Panama.”

Upon arriving in the city of Balboa, a group of U.S. soldiers surprised him with coffee and fresh milk after an arduous journey with scarce food.

Knowing only a few words of English, which he learned from a popular children’s song created by a bilingual teacher in Puerto Rico, González Vega crossed the Panamanian jungle to reach his assigned station.

Shortly after arriving at the U.S. base in Panama, González Vega was promoted to Private First Class and later to Sergeant, where he oversaw a group of Puerto Rican soldiers at Station 91.

González Vega confessed that one of his most difficult moments was when his mother, María Vega, was hospitalized with asthma in Puerto Rico while he was leading the soldiers at his station.

One afternoon at the Panama Canal, he was working on an intense target practice session. He was so desperate to be with his mother that his head hurt. Five minutes later, he was told he had to report to the military airport and  take off on the mail plane.

Don Andrés cared for his mother until she recovered. Fifteen days, he returned to Station 91 at the Panama Canal. His participation in the war ended when the United States attacked Hiroshima with an atomic bomb, the first in the world, González Vega said. “That’s when the war ended.”

Puerto Rican sergeants like González Vega returned to their homeland for a month. Although many of them later enlisted in the Korean War in the 1950s, González Vega decided to stay in Puerto Rico with his family.

According to the veteran, his comrades thought they would return to the Panama Canal, but instead they were sent to combat training at Fort Benjamin Harrison in Indianapolis, Indiana. This group of soldiers are known as the renowned “Borinqueneers,” who made up the 65th Infantry.

Don Andrés received the American Theater Service Medal, Good Conduct Medal and World  War II Victory Medal.

Challenges of being Puerto Rican in New York

In 1947, González Vega was part of the wave of Puerto Ricans who migrated to New York for economic reasons.

In the city, he unexpectedly ran into one of his friends from Panama. Together, they remembered their former colleagues, most of whom died during the Korean War.

“Maybe that (death) would have happened to me too,” said González Vega.

González Vega raised his daughter, Julia, with his wife in the Big Apple.

One of his daughter’s childhood memories is when she returned from school one day and saw her father painting part of the house after someone had tagged it with an insult: “Spics Go Home,” Don Andrés and Julia recounted.

At that time, minority groups in the United States faced the racial tensions of the segregation era and the struggle for civil rights. This reality deeply affected Don Andrés, seeing how a Black person could be sitting in one place and if a white person arrived, they would have to give up their seat immediately, the veteran said.

To channel his indignation, González Vega fought to be part of the founding group of the National Puerto Rican Parade in New York. He remembers how they pressured the city’s then-mayor, Robert Wagner, to grant them access to the famous Fifth Avenue for the parade.

“They went to Wagner, ‘If you want our vote, we want to march on Fifth Avenue,’” González Vega recalled. “There were so many people from Puerto Rico who fought to change the voter registration exam from English to Spanish. From there, Puerto Rican politics began, with many emerging leaders running for office, and today, you see that.”

After 15 years in the diaspora, Don Andrés returned to his country, where he completed his bachelor’s degree in business administration and worked as a festival coordinator at the Institute of Puerto Rican Culture and founded the Coconut Festival in Luquillo.

“I have a list and I try to accomplish everything, but my dad has everything on his mind. I want to continue to do everything in the way he has always done them,” said González, who dreams of building a business that blends Puerto Rican crafts, coffee, and wine.

The father and daughter live 50 feet apart from each other, in concrete houses surrounded by plants that grow avocados, pigeon peas, and plantains. González calls her father every morning to go over the day’s errands. After their chat, Don Andrés goes down twelve steps from the second floor of his house to sit in the dining room for breakfast: a glass of hot milk with bananas and oranges.

When González Vega visits El Yunque to sell his handmade crafts, he sometimes wonders if he should stop, as his daughter is the one who helps him carry the heavy table and set up his shop with his signature güiros and maracas.

“I don’t want you to stop, I want you to continue,” González said with great emotion.

“I thank God for giving me a daughter like Julia, who means everything to me,” Don Andrés said. When asked if he has told his whole story, he replied with a smile: “I haven’t told you anything yet.”

González Vega continues his days reminiscing about his memories and enjoying the time he has with his daughter while singing his own version of Bad Bunny’s hit “Café Con Ron”: “Coffee in the morning, ham in the afternoon, we enjoy everything sitting on the balcony.”

CORRECTION: A previous version of this article incorrectly stated that Don Andrés lived outside of Puerto Rico for 15 years. He lived abroad for 29 years.

Wesley J. Pérez Vidal is a graduate student at Syracuse University’s S.I. Newhouse School of Public Communications and a recipient of the competitive Newhouse Foundation Fellowship. He aspires to become a multimedia, bilingual investigative journalist. Reach him at wjperezv [at] syr [dot] edu or on Instagram at @wesleyperez.pr.