Humberto Fontova has a look at what should be at least an unofficial holiday: A Glorious Anniversary—Che Guevara’s Death.
I have read very few of W.E.B Griffin's novels, by whatever pseudonym he uses, but there was a book which was apparently a sort of sequel to his Brotherhood of War series, in which a team of what were not yet known as Special Operations Operators was put together to follow Che Guevera around Africa and South America foiling all of his plots and plans. One of the sub-themes was that Guevera was actually inept at anything but rabble-rousing and selling t-shirts to romantic middle-class American revolutionary wannabes; the idea was to foil his plots, without actually hurting him. The old "Don't interrupt your enemy when he's making mistakes" bit: If the Gods of War have sent you an incompetent foe, it would be foolish not to take maximum advantage of the gift.
The denouement, of course, plays into the decades-old rumor that Guevera was not, in fact, killed by the Bolivian Army, but by a bunch of guys with paler skin, wearing hats with no brims and speaking Spanish with heavy Northern accents. Way Northern...
...And, oddly enough, I once had a First Sergeant who was regaling us with tales of his days in SF, and was talking about the alert which they thought was just an accountability thing, and they wound up deploying and jumping into Bolivia, with some amusing take on "No shit, there I was..." I asked "Hey, Top, were you the guy who capped Che Guevaera?" and he clammed up.