Christmas was working as a locomotive engineer on the Illinois Central Railroad (ironically, he was hauling a refrigerated load of bananas) when the accident occurred that started him on the path to his new international career. While the cause of the low-speed head-on train wreck was never officially stated, the fact that the engineer was unable to determine the color of the signal lamps—coupled with the fact that he was dead drunk at the time of the crash—certainly must have contributed to the accident. The railroad promptly fired Christmas.
Blackballed from railroad work in the states, friends of Christmas arranged a job for him in Honduras, running a tiny wood-burning locomotive on a 56 mile-long narrow gauge Honduran railroad. Correctly reading the signals wouldn’t be a problem there, since it was the only locomotive in the entire country of Honduras.
Note. Over time, the situation has actually gotten worse. Today, this is the only working rail line between Mexico and Panama. When I rode the train to the banana plantation in the early nineties, it carried about a dozen soldiers, several empty banana cars, and a couple of million spiders. You would not believe how many spiders and snakes live on a banana plantation.
For years, Christmas made the 56-mile run between the banana plantation in the interior to the ice plant in San Pedro Sula, then on to the docks at Puerto Cortez three times a week, hauling 200-pound blocks of ice and loads of green bananas out of the interior. It was Central American politics that eventually, quite literally, crossed his tracks and changed his destiny.
The three largest Central American countries are Guatemala to the North, Nicaragua to the South, and Honduras (trapped in the middle). For a century before Lee Christmas arrived, the area had almost constant revolutions. Most of these were centered in Honduras, since if either of the other two countries could successfully ally with the country in the center, the resulting union would be strong enough to control the rest of Central America. If Guatemala could successfully arrange a revolution in Honduras, Nicaragua immediately would start a counterrevolution, setting off a new cycle of revolution and counterrevolution. Both countries treated Honduras like a football in a no-rules scrimmage game.
Overthrowing the government of Honduras was much easier than you might think. Since the only real source of government revenue was import and export taxes collected at the Gulf ports, all a would-be revolutionary army had to do was take and hold the major port at Puerto Cortez and wait for the central government in Tegucigalpa to starve to death. The soldiers in the federal army had become highly experienced in abruptly changing sides to serve whomever could pay them, long since having learned that the secret to survival in Central America was to be politically flexible.
So, it was no surprise that, after the Honduran government of President Vasquez was overthrown by wanna-be President Policarpo Bonilla (supported by President Zelaya of Nicaragua), President Cabrera of Guatemala began supporting a counterrevolution. Actually, it would have been astonishing if he hadn’t.
In April, 1897, the new revolution was led by General Jose Manuel Duron and thirten sub-generals (at least two of which were American mercenaries). Most of these revolutions had more generals than soldiers, since anyone below the rank of captain was probably a cook. General Duron was fronting for a new president-in-waiting, Enrique Soto. Leaving Guatemala in a sailboat, Duron and his men slipped into the harbor of Puerto Cortez at night and easily captured the commandant of the small outpost guarding the customs house. As expected, the soldiers quickly changed sides.
The next task for the revolutionaries was to take the larger town of San Pedro Sula, just 35 miles inland. If the city could be taken and held, popular support for the revolution would inevitably, slowly shift in his favor and Soto would become the new president. While General Duron was organizing his men, Lee Christmas and his toy train arrived and were quickly drafted into the fight.
General Duron planned to use the train to transport his men to San Pedro Sula, and ordered Christmas to help. The army offloaded the bananas and boarded the train cars, but as they started the journey inland, they discovered that the commander of the garrison in San Pedro Sula, Colonel Giron, had decided not to wait for the revolutionaries, and was moving on foot, down the railroad track to the coast. Colonel Giron probably understood that if he allowed his men to sit and wait, they undoubtedly would either desert or change sides.
Lee Christmas was once again ordered at gunpoint to help. Christmas moved the small train just outside of town to Laguna Trestle, the small bridge crossing the Chalmecon River, where he urged the soldiers to unload the train and begin building defensive fortifications, intending to ambush the enemy as they crossed the trestle.
No—they did not fight from behind piles of bananas. They did, however, fight from behind a fort made out of 200-pound blocks of ice—which makes it probably one of the strangest battles in human history.
What Colonel Giron should have done was just to wait a few hours, since an ice fort in tropical Honduras in April wouldn’t have lasted for more than a few hours. If he had halted his men just out of range, they could have rested and laughed themselves silly as the fort melted. Instead, however, Giron and his men foolishly attacked.
At some point in the battle, Lee Christmas stopped being a reluctant observer and started being a participant. Perhaps a bullet narrowly missed him, or maybe, he just wanted to be on the winning side. Maybe he was tired of hauling loads of spider-infested bananas. Whatever the reason, Christmas picked up a rifle and joined the battle. By the time, Giron was wounded and his men were driven off, Lee Christmas was no longer a railroad engineer, but an officer in the revolutionary army of President Soto.
Against logic and common sense, Captain Lee Christmas had successfully won the Battle of Laguna Trestle by ingeniously building a fortress of ice in the lush Honduran tropics.
That would be a good place to stop the story, but historians never know when to stop talking. Soto’s government lasted just over two weeks, cut short when President Zelaya of Nicaragua sent a gun boat up the coast and cut off supplies for the new revolutionary army while they were still waiting for the capital to collapse from lack of funds. Christmas and the rest of the army scattered and ran to the hills, ultimately taking refuge in Guatemala. Soldiers in the Honduran army simply changed sides.
He wouldn’t have to stay in Guatemala long, of course. General Christmas spent the rest of his life fighting in revolutions, participating in three more wars in Honduras alone. He eventually overthrew the country with the aid of just six men. In between wars, he occasionally worked as a spy for the United States.
But, those are stories for a different day.