The mayor of Roses at the time, Salvador Marcó, reported a bizarre psychological tactic: as the cruiser approached, it sequentially raised the Republican flag, the flag of Catalonia, and a red leftist flag to confuse the townspeople. Finally, it raised the monarchist Nationalist flag and opened fire. The warship unleashed a intense 15-minute artillery bombardment directly into the town, damaging structures and heavily panicking the local populace. Although initial local rumours suggested a full fascist military invasion was underway, historical analysis confirms it was purely a tactical bombardment intended to demoralise the Republican rearguard and disrupt coastal infrastructure. However, local Republican shoreline defences opened fire, forcing the landing parties to retreat back to the cruiser with casualties. A second coastal infiltration attempt later that night was similarly repelled.

The bombardment changed the course of the war in Catalonia, triggering immediate panic and a desire for vengeance. The attack proved that the Catalonian coast was completely vulnerable to naval invasion. Coastal towns immediately began frantically digging trenches, building machine-gun nests, and establishing bunkers, which is why a cover story told on 2 November to Orriols prisoners (that they were being sent to dig trenches in Roses) was so highly believable. The sudden shock of a fascist warship attacking Catalonian soil enraged local anarchist and socialist militias.

By nightfall, local anarchists, radicalised militias, and angry crowds grew desperate to purge internal elements they believed were aiding or cheering on Franco’s forces. A heavily armed group took matters into their own hands and violently stormed the Seminary prison. Rather than executing an organized transfer, the militia targeted the prisoners on the spot in an act of direct retaliation. Six individuals were cornered and executed right inside the prison walls before the remaining inmates could be secured or marched out – Martin Batalla Poch, Ramón Adroher Gustá, Luis Doménech Pujal, Antonio Busquets Norat, Camilo Conde Carballo, and Luis Picó Boada.

That same night in the Gerona cemetery they murdered José Barceló Casademont, Vicente Cano Serra, Joaquín Font Fargas, Alberto Gomis Llambias, Pedro Granés Carós, Ramon Tarrés Felui, J. Montserrat Torrent Sala, Ramón Mañé Sares, Joaquín Lloret Plana, Luis A. Noguera Massa, José Mª Peradalta Raurich, Valentín Güell Maymi, Francesc Tarrés Feliu.

In Olot, on October 31, 1936, the local committee took 11 people from the prison, brought them to Camp del Triai, in the municipality of Sant Cristòfol les Fonts, and murdered them. After the war, a 5m-high cross was erected in homage to the victims. Their names were Jesús Miquel Girbau, Ramón Arqués Masoliver, Ramón Batlle Figueres, José M. Bolós Llabonera, Ramon Llongarriu Catalá, Juan Plana Moreu, José M. Plana Moreu, Juan Romero Alcaraz, Manuel Sellas Cardalús, Manuel Serra Legares, and Victoriano Díaz Gutiérrez.

In Sant Feliu de Guíxols, the prisoners were taken to the municipal cemetery and shot there. Their names were José Vives Borjas, Eneco Girbau Valls, Rufino Romá Roca, José Vilaret Xarnach, José Noguer Posá, Adelardo Magí Camps, Emilio Calzada Marsal, Pedro Compte Figueras, José Perelló Cuní, and Santos Boada Calzada.

On 2 November 1936, another 12 people were executed at the rural Camp del Castell site near Orriols, one being Alfons Hosta Bellpuig, municipal doctor of Girona and president in the province of Catalan Popular Action (integrated, with the CEDA , in the Catalan Front of Order). Another was Alfons Sàbat Pujol, a banker and a regular member of the local conservative Centre Monàrquic (Monarchist Centre) and a sympathiser of the right-wing Catholic coalition, CEDA, whose three sons all died fighting for the Nationalists on 25 August 1937 in Zaragoza.

On 2 November 1936, eight locals of Barcarrota, deep in Nationalist-held territory, were executed during a paseo. They took Petra Flores Rodríguez, 66, ‘housewife’, Luis Guzmán Mulero, 55, day labourer, Antonio Jaramillo Maqueda, 30, carter, Antonio Moreno Durán, 49, carter, José Reyes Álvarez, day labourer, José Zahínos Ledesma, 47. The town had been in Nationalist hands for three months, and by now, they killed 50 locals, and were resorting to killing the relatives of those they wished to execute but could not find. Two days later, they executed José Becerra Pérez, 36, and Luis Martín Corbacho, 33. All ten of these people have never been found.

By November 1936, the people of Extremadura had experienced almost four months of war, occupation, executions, arrests, and political persecution. The consequences were particularly severe in the province of Badajoz, where the Nationalist advance through the region had been accompanied by widespread killings, and in Cáceres, where the military uprising had succeeded much earlier. Although the two provinces had followed different paths since July, both were experiencing the consolidation of a new political order in which association with the Republic could bring imprisonment, dismissal, confiscation of property, or death.

The repression had not affected every part of Extremadura in the same way. Cáceres had fallen largely under Nationalist control during the first weeks of the uprising. In Badajoz, the capture of Mérida and Badajoz city in August, followed by the occupation of much of the province, brought a particularly violent campaign against Republican officials, trade unionists, agricultural workers, and people who had participated in the defence of the Republic. The north-eastern part of Badajoz, particularly La Serena, remained under Republican control, however, and continued to experience a different political and social situation.

In Cáceres, the initial violence following the occupation had already removed many of the province’s Republican political and social leaders. Arrests and extrajudicial executions had taken place in the provincial capital and in towns including Plasencia, Trujillo, Coria, Logrosán, and Navalmoral de la Mata. Those targeted included mayors, councillors, trade union representatives, political activists, and people whose involvement with left-wing organisations was considered sufficient grounds for suspicion.

By November, repression was increasingly being administered through military authorities and political investigations, although executions continued. Military courts had begun conducting summary proceedings during the summer, and executions following death sentences were increasingly recorded alongside the earlier extrajudicial killings.

The authorities were also turning their attention towards civilian institutions. On 8 November, the investigation of primary-school teachers began in Sierra de Gata, as part of a wider provincial process. Following Decree No. 66 of 11 November, the provincial commission began collecting political and personal information about teachers throughout Cáceres. Their professional positions were now subject to scrutiny based on their perceived political loyalties. The removal of Republican influence had long extended beyond the political leadership. Teachers, public employees, and other people working in local institutions faced investigations and possible dismissal. The new authorities were seeking to establish control over the institutions through which communities had previously organised their public and social lives.

The situation in Badajoz was particularly severe. The Nationalist occupation of Mérida and Badajoz city had been followed by mass executions, and the violence continued as the advancing forces occupied the surrounding towns and countryside. By November, executions were still taking place. Research into Badajoz city identifies the period from August to November as one of particularly intense repression. Mérida also remained an important centre of executions, with railway workers among those who had suffered particularly heavily following the occupation.

The repression extended beyond those who had actively resisted the military uprising. Membership of Republican parties and trade unions, participation in local committees, employment in Republican institutions, or involvement in agricultural organisations could all attract the attention of the new authorities. In many communities, the previous local political leadership had disappeared through arrest, execution, or flight.

The imprisonment of suspected Republicans was another important part of the process. Detention could lead to a military trial, a sentence of imprisonment, or execution. Families often had little information about the whereabouts or circumstances of relatives who had been arrested. Some people disappeared without their deaths being registered, leaving relatives uncertain about their fate.

For ordinary families, the consequences extended well beyond the immediate violence. The execution or imprisonment of a household’s principal wage earner could leave a wife and children without their usual means of support. In agricultural communities, where families often depended on seasonal work and the labour of several members, the loss of one adult could have serious economic consequences. Women were frequently left to maintain households, care for children, and find alternative sources of income. They also had to deal with the authorities when seeking information about detained relatives, arranging visits to prisons, or attempting to recover personal belongings. Families of executed Republicans could face additional difficulties because of their association with the victims.

The longer-term experience of women in Badajoz demonstrates the extent of this hardship. Historical research has documented women whose husbands or relatives had been killed or imprisoned being forced into domestic service, begging, or informal trading to support their children. The loss of a family member therefore often meant the loss of economic security, as well as the emotional consequences of bereavement.

Prisoners themselves faced difficult conditions. Republican detainees were held in provincial prisons and municipal detention facilities, where overcrowding, inadequate food, poor hygiene, and mistreatment were persistent problems. Some died in custody. For their families, imprisonment brought prolonged uncertainty, financial difficulties, and the fear that a prisoner might never return.

The repression also altered relationships within towns and villages. The authorities relied on information supplied by local supporters, denunciations, and investigations into the political activities of residents. People who had previously occupied positions of responsibility in municipal government, agricultural organisations, or trade unions had been removed, while others had fled or were in hiding. For survivors, everyday life required caution. Families had to consider what they said, whom they trusted, and whether maintaining contact with the relatives of prisoners or executed people might attract unwanted attention. In communities where the victims and those responsible for their arrest or execution were often known to one another, the consequences were particularly difficult.

The countryside was also experiencing the economic effects of the political changes. Agricultural workers who had participated in the land occupations and labour movements of the Republic faced a new administration closely associated with the landowning and conservative interests that had opposed those changes. The destruction of local Republican organisations removed much of the previous means through which agricultural workers had defended their interests.

In Republican-held La Serena, meanwhile, the population remained under a different administration, although the continuing war, military mobilisation, and proximity of Nationalist-controlled territory brought their own difficulties. It is important not to confuse the experience of these communities with that of people already living under Nationalist occupation. By November 1936,xtremadura was a region divided  by the military situation and different experiences of civilian life. In the occupied areas, the removal of Republican political organisations had been accompanied by executions, imprisonment, economic punishment, and the systematic investigation of people considered politically unreliable.

For the families of those who had been executed, one of the most difficult consequences of the repression was having to continue living alongside the people they believed responsible for their relatives’ deaths. In small towns and agricultural villages, denunciations were rarely anonymous. Neighbours knew who had supplied information to the authorities, who had identified Republican activists, and who had participated in arrests. The families of the victims often knew exactly whose testimony or intervention had contributed to the disappearance of a husband, father, or son. There was no opportunity to seek justice or openly challenge those responsible. The authorities who might previously have investigated such accusations were now part of the political system that had carried out the repression. Confronting an informer could bring further trouble, particularly when that person had the support of local officials, the Guardia Civil, or Falange. For many families, silence and avoidance became practical necessities.

The problem was especially difficult in rural communities, where people could not easily leave their homes or find employment elsewhere. Widows and children had to continue working, obtaining food, and maintaining their households in villages where the families of victims and those who had denounced them lived alongside one another. In some cases, the survivors were economically dependent on the same landowners and local employers who supported the new authorities.

Resentment did not necessarily disappear simply because it could not be expressed. It remained within families and between neighbours, sometimes passing from parents to children. People remembered who had denounced their relatives, even when they could not safely speak about it. The distinction between public behaviour and private feelings became an important part of everyday life.

The experience of Cáceres demonstrates how long these tensions could survive. Historical research by Julián Chaves Palacios, Juan García Pérez, and Fernando Sánchez Marroyo documents continuing hostility between families, carefully controlled resentment, and occasional outbursts of anger that brought further punishment upon the victims’ relatives. The repression had therefore created divisions that extended well beyond the initial arrests and executions. Survivors were not only mourning their dead; they were attempting to continue their lives in communities where the people they held responsible remained present, often protected by the very authorities that had taken their relatives away.

The repression and military occupation had also produced a substantial refugee population. Thousands of people had fled their homes during the Nationalist advance through Extremadura, escaping both the fighting and the violence that followed the occupation of Republican-held towns. By November 1936, many were living elsewhere in Republican Spain, while others had sought refuge across the Portuguese border or were still hiding within their own province.

The Portuguese frontier had been one of the principal escape routes during August and September. Following the capture of Badajoz, large numbers of civilians attempted to cross into Portugal through Elvas, Campo Maior, and Barrancos. The Portuguese authorities, however, were reluctant to receive Republican refugees. Many were detained, and some faced the danger of being returned to Nationalist territory. In September, approximately a thousand Andalusian and Extremaduran refugees reached Barrancos, where they were accommodated in makeshift camps at Coitadinha and Russianas. Their survival depended partly on the assistance of local Portuguese inhabitants and the intervention of Lieutenant António Augusto de Seixas, who prevented their forced return.

Many more Extremadurans had fled eastwards into Republican territory. Madrid had received large numbers of refugees from Extremadura, Andalucía, and Toledo during the summer and early autumn. The capital, however, was becoming increasingly dangerous as Nationalist forces approached in November. The Republican authorities began organising the evacuation of refugees towards safer destinations, including Ciudad Real, Cuenca, Murcia, and the Mediterranean regions. Ciudad Real became an important receiving centre, although the arrival of so many displaced families placed considerable pressure on accommodation, food supplies, employment, and medical services.

In central Badajoz, the Sierra de Monsalud had become a refuge for more than a thousand people following the occupation of surrounding towns in August. Women, children, and men who feared arrest sheltered in the mountains for months. Some of the men also participated in resistance activities against the occupying forces. Their circumstances were particularly precarious, as they lacked secure accommodation and remained exposed to military operations intended to eliminate the Republican resistance.

For families who had reached Republican territory, displacement did not necessarily mean security or a return to ordinary life. Many had lost their homes, employment, possessions, and contact with relatives who had remained behind. They depended on relatives, charitable organisations, public buildings, or assistance from local authorities. Children were uprooted from their schools, and adults had to find ways of supporting their families in unfamiliar communities.