Spain – Page 17 – CAROLINE ANGUS

This Week in Spanish Civil War History Extra: 80 Years since the Málaga-Almería Massacre

Published on February 8, 2017February 8, 2017 by Caroline AngusLeave a comment

‘The Moors are coming’

By January 1937, the Spanish Civil War already six months old, and the southern region of Andalucía had already been through its fair share of horrors. With much of the area sided with the Republicans, the Nationalists, led by fascist Franco (and his German and Italian allies) were hot on ripping through Andalucía and ruling the area, and were having great success. In January, General Queipo de Lllano, who had already enjoyed mass executions through Andalucía, was named head of the Army of the South, a division of 15,000 troops, made up of Spanish soldiers and Moorish fighters from Morocco, based in Seville. They were aided by Italian men brought in from Cadiz, 10,000 ‘Blackshirts’, and were ordered to take Málaga on the southern coast, picking up Granada, Marbella and Ronda on the way, along with the surrounding rural areas.

The city of Málaga, population 250,000, plus another 90,000 who had fled there from the countryside, saw no immediate reason to worry, and their 12,000 Republican militia (only 8,000 armed) did not take up any training, dug in no trenches, set up no road blocks and manned no hilltop lookouts. They simply did not have the manpower or supplies to defend themselves. The Nationalists were battle-hardened men who had no problem killing brutally, particularly the Moorish soldiers, who had committed horrid crimes elsewhere in Spain.

The attack began on February 3, 1937 when Ronda was defeated by Nationalist troops, leading them right to Málaga, coming from the west. The Italian troops, who had entered the region from the northern hills, arrived on February 6. At that point, all the people of the city could either fight or flee. Through the day on February 7, the Republican fighters were torn apart by the onslaught of the Nationalists, and executions began. It mattered little whether you were a militiaman or not, you were executed. Women were raped brutally, and then shot if the rape didn’t kill them. Children were killed in the crossfire or just killed as collateral damage. February 8 marked the official fall of Málaga, completely swamped with Nationalist soldiers and bombed from the air by German and Italian planes. Boats offshore also bombarded the city. Around 4,000 people were killed in the initial executions alone, though exact numbers are not possible.

The people of Málaga had only one way to go; east along the coast towards the haven of Almería, an area relatively safe at this point in the war. But Almería was 220km (135 miles) along the N-340. It is unknown precisely how many people tried to flee, either on foot, donkey or by truck (until petrol ran out anyway), though an estimate by Contemporary History professors Encarnación Barranquero and Lucia Prieto is 100,000 now-refugees.

By dawn on February 8, the city was Nationalist territory, and many of the people who fled were around 30 kilometres east in Torre del Mar, walking the sparse road. Trucks that ambled past were loaded with children, parents eager to get them to safety any way possible, begging the trucks to take children from their arms as they walked. They had to walk with everything they owned, clothes, bedding, sewing machines, tools, water, anything they had, strapped and carried by their bodies or donkeys. But the walk was not their only problem. General Queipo de Llano was not content with taking the city and executing those who didn’t flee. The refugees would be chased.

As people trekked the winding, hilly, unsealed road, the troops were making their way behind them, swift and trained for marching. Then bombing from the air along the road began. People had nowhere to hide – caves, ditches, rocks, anything had to be used for defense as the Nationalists looked to wipe out the lot. The 16-kilometre stretch between Nerja (55 kilometres east of Málaga) and La Herradura suffered a terrible fate as the first wave of civilians were attacked, bodies littering the road as they were defenseless from the air. Parents were forced to dig with their hands and bury their children. People pressed themselves against cliff-faces in the hope of safety and died on the spot. Gutters filled with bodies as they fell from the roadside. Whole extended families were found lying together, all dead, and some with children left alive, picked up by other people strong enough to carry an extra person. The bridge over the Guadalfeo River, 90 kilometres from Málaga, was bombed, sending innocent refugees into the water and drowned at nightfall.

By the time the refugees arrived in Motril, 95 kilometres from Málaga, the International Brigades were there to help defend them against the Nationalists, but many refugees were now injured, starving and exhausted, and still had a long way to go, with family members left dead on the roadside. None would return until the end of the war, some remained in exile for life. Reports state that skeletons of the people killed on that dusty stretch were still to be found on the roadside until the mid-1960’s. No one wanted to go home along the N-340, and the whole incident was silenced.

One man became well-known in the mess, a Canadian named Norman Bethune. A doctor and ambulance driver, he was in Spain to fight fascism as an international volunteer. His ambulance raced back and forth along this road, trying to save all he could. To read about Bethune, try ‘The Ambulance Man and the Spanish Civil War’ by Paul Read. It’s a shame the locals who suffered this event were not so well-known, their stories limited to tales told between generations until recently.

Professors at the University of Málaga estimate over 5,000 people died on the road, based on oral histories collected, plus burial records in Salamanca, and Málaga archives. Bodies were not properly buried or treated, so the exact figure can never be established. Those killed and buried along the roadside are still left there today. Ten years ago, the Diputación de Málaga opened its archives for professors to complete historical memory works on the massacre in the area, to accompany the stories of 400 people who came forward with their personal accounts of the event.

The Malaga-Almeria massacre is commemorated at Torre del Mar, considered a halfway point along the road where the massacre took place, on February 7, the date people began to flee their homes in Málaga. This attack was almost a practice, a prelude to many atrocities that would go on to occur in WWII. The damage done to the people of Málaga, the towns that were in the firing line towards Almeria, and the whole rural region itself is unimaginable, and how it shaped and changed the lives and lifestyle of following generation in the area has been largely ignored until recent times.

If you are interested and can read Spanish, the book by professors Encarnación Barranquero and Lucia Prieto from the University of Malaga is Poblacion y Guerra Civil en Málaga: Caido Exodo y Refugio, an excellent book, well researched, with powerful personal recollections.

A first person account written is 1937 is Norman Bethune’s The crime on the road Malaga-Almeria : narrative with graphic documents revealing fascist cruelty (if you can get a copy – I can’t!)

This is not a detailed analysis, just a highlight (lowlight?) of the week’s events. Things get lost in translation – Feel free to suggest an addition/clarification/correction below. The more the world remembers, the better. All photos are auto-linked to source for credit.

This Week in Spanish Civil War History – Week 30: 5 – 12 February 1937

Published on February 5, 2017 by Caroline AngusLeave a comment

February 5

The Nationalist offensive begins on the west bank of the Jarama River, catching the Republicans by surprise after heavy rain. The Nationalists have highly trained men who advance with whole brigades in columns, meaning the Republicans are simply overwhelmed. While the Nationalists have a good first day, they did not gain the total control as planned, and thus begins the now-infamous battle lasting three bloody weeks.

Thanks, Richard, for all your great maps. Visit Richard Baxell’s site for detailed Jarama info

February 6

The Nationalists ramp up the offensive of the Jarama valley. With 40,000 troops, of Moroccan soldiers and Spanish Legionnaires, with the German Condor Legion and their machine guns and anti-tank artillery, attack to cut off the Madrid-Valencia road. Alongside them is 600 Irish Blueshirts, ultra right-wing fanatics joining the fight.

Because the Republicans were already planning an offensive against the onslaught coming at them, they are not yet prepared and do not have any high ground safely covered in case of attack. The Nationalists swarm in and take the two main bridges over the Jarama. The town of Ciempozuelos in the Jarama valley is attacked by the Nationalists and 1,300 men are killed. The Moroccans sneak in under darkness, killing all the Republican bridge guards and taking the area easily. La Marañosa hill, 700 metres high, which overlooks both sides of the Jarama River, is attacked, with the Republicans on top killed.

February 7

Meanwhile, after the Nationalists and Italian Blackshirts swarming the southern area of Málaga in southern Spain, the civilians try to flee then city towards north-eastern Almería. The sole road to take them to safety is filled with the injured and dying as they go on foot, or by slow trucks, to escape being murdered. The road is devoid of all cover and safety fleeing innocents are bombed from the air as soldiers on foot march after them to shoot them down. German planes are bombing the public, as the Navy stands by doing nothing to help the on land civilians. Skeletons will be found along the road for another thirty years.

A separate post on the road massacre will be posted on February 7

February 8

Málaga is now totally in the hands of the Nationalists. Republicans held off rifle and grenade attack, but have nothing to protect them from tanks. Those left in the city are rounded up and executions begin. Those punished with execution are for ambiguous ‘crimes’ for which are put before firing squads. Torture and mutilation is enjoyed by the Moroccan troops, horrifying the Italian military. Mass rape is instructed by Generals, and women are raped to death, then mutilated.

You can find picture online of women, stripped, raped to death and their bodies left exposed during the SCW. I am not going to post that. Their horrific pain and humiliation is more than enough, let alone sharing images. If you wish to view that, get the fuck off my site. Seriously. Don’t come here again.

The Nationalists outside Madrid take more of the Jarama valley, the west bank of the river now in their control. The Republicans have Soviet tanks to help them hold back the enemy, but sheer numbers and ammunition are on the Nationalists’ side. The Republicans also have no air support, and are left to be bombed constantly by the Germans.

February 9

Nationalist troops win the high ground by the town of Vaciamadrid. They are quickly gaining the outskirts but the Republicans hold onto the centre of the valley. They hold on to the towns of Gozquez de Abajo and San Martin de la Vega. Republican reinforcements arrive on the east banks of the Jarama, meaning the Nationalists cannot cross the water. Heavy rain arrives again, halting the Nationalists further.

February 10

The International Brigades, the XIV and XV battalions, flood in and stop the Nationalists advancing across the Jarama valley. But the Nationalists capture 30 British volunteers at their machine gun location and sent them to the front line, and half are killed by their own side’s shots.

February 11

Moroccan soldiers cross the river and silently cut the throats of the XI International Brigade guards around their camp. More Nationalist men then cross the river and attack the fleeing volunteers. The Nationalists then also charge the Arganda bridge under heavy fire and succeed in their crossing. Republicans have laid mines along the bridge and detonate, but the bridge does not collapse. The Nationalists also attack San Martin de la Vega and cut the throats of all in the way.

The eastern banks of the river is towered over by Pingarrón hill and the Republican continue to hold the strategic point. The Garabaldi battalion hold off the Nationalists and the XI International Brigade hold off Nationalists on the Arganda-Colmenar road, who are then attacked by Soviet tanks. This holds up further Nationalist advance. Republican planes, 40 Chatos provided by the Soviets, arrive and then shoot down German Condor Legion bombers over the valley.

British battalions included New Zealand, Australian, South African and Irish volunteers

February 12

The Soviet planes are giving the Republicans power in the area and the German Condor Legion planes have to retreat. The Nationalists still have to cut off the Madrid-Valencia road. International Brigades, British and Polish men, with Spanish men making up their numbers, try to hold these last few key locations to save the road and keep it open. The volunteers are hacked into pieces by the Nationalists.

The Nationalists have fresh troops in reserve and bring them into the valley to attack the town of Morata. They also take the Pingarrón and Pajares hills in the north the valley. The XI International Brigades are caught on the hills and surrounded, with slaughter resulting. The Republicans hold Pingarrón hill but only just, and the XV International Brigade, three battalions of British, Balkan, German, French/Belgian and Irish battalions banded together, holding the San Martin-Morata road. The British battalion loses 375 men, out of a total of only 600, killed on a hillside now nicknamed Suicide Hill. The French/Belgians have to flee to survive, leaving the British men exposed and outnumbered. The Balkan and German Thaelmann battalions hold off the Nationalists with machine guns. The Nationalists have to turn back, but the Republican lines are now severely broken. The battle still has another two weeks to go.

A separate post on the killings on Suicide Hill will be posted on February 12.

Women of the Spanish Civil War: Part 1 – Lucía Sánchez Saornil

Published on January 29, 2017February 22, 2017 by Caroline AngusLeave a comment

Lucía Sánchez Saornil was born in Madrid on 13 December 1895, and raised in poverty by her father. Sánchez got accepted into the Royal Academy of Fine Arts of San Fernando (Madrid) with her passion for poetry, and by 1919 she had already been published in multiple journals, where she used a pen name. As a man, she was able to write of lesbian themes; at that time, all gay relationships (and anything related) was subject to censorship and prison time, all still illegal in Spain. This lead to Sánchez having to keep her private life very private for her safety. However, she wrote alongside many modern new authors, dedicated to promoting new literary styles, but only as a man.

Sánchez worked for the as a phone operator at Telefónica, and in 1931, participated in the union strike arranged by the CNT (anarchist workers union), and ignited her passion for activism. In 1933, Sánchez gained a role with the CNT in Madrid, as their Writing Secretary, and edited their own journal, right until the start of the Spanish Civil War in 1936. Her writing quickly established her as a feminist and addressed the urgent need for better equality in Spain. At that time, gender roles were extremely strict and went unquestioned. Sánchez wrote of how motherhood should not have to define a woman and that women deserved far better treatment. The anarchist movement praised equal rights, but it seemed as all talk and no action, with men who claimed to be anarchists still sexist in the home. Women still were forced into marriage and single women required a chaperone in public. Women still received half the income of men. The working class women were not receiving any benefits promised by the Second Spanish Republic.

In 1935, Sánchez decided to form the Mujeres Libres (Free Women), along with Mercedes Comaposada, a socialist lawyer in Madrid. They argued that social revolution and women’s revolution were the same thing; that women’s issues were everyone’s issues. They started their magazine, and were soon joined by Amparo Poch y Gascon, a doctor who believed in sexual freedom and the abolishment of double standards for women. The women felt that their contribution to the CNT was not being treated equally, and that sexism was rampant. At same time, Soledad Estorach in Barcelona started the Grupo Cultural Feminino, a group committed to equality in unions. In 1936, the groups came together and formed the Agrupacion Mujeres Libres, a group which would grow to 30,000 members.

The anarchists believed that women’s equality would be naturally created after the social revolution, when the working classes received better rights. However, the Mujeres Libres believed women’s rights could begin right away, and they created networks of support and reported on sexist issues within their unions. By the start of the Spanish Civil War in 1936, coinciding with the Spanish revolution, Mujeres Libres were already formed and prepared, so that women could participate in war fully, both in the revolution and as militia in battle. Sánchez and her team spread propaganda, radio news, and travelled to rural women to give them support.

In order for women to be free as the Spanish Civil War and revolution progressed, the Mujeres Libres organised schools, women’s only social occasions and a women-only newspaper, so women could feel safe and confident as their political consciousness was educated. Many working class women could not read or write, so Mujeres Libres set up classes for these women to attend, and women were trained as nurses for the ever-increasing wounded from the front. At the same time, they were taught about sexual health and post-natal care, to pass on to as many women as possible. Much had been denied to working class women in the past, and they finally started to receive basic help.

Mujeres Libres did not become part of the CNT or FAI, as they wished to be an independent anarchist group. As men left to fight at the front (along with many women, who are largely forgotten by history), the Mujeres Libres had women work-ready to fill men’s roles. While still stuck in female roles like cooking for the militia and nursing the wounded, women were also being training in shooting by Mujeres Libres. Also formed was daycare for children as women empowered themselves, and the children were educated in the causes their mothers fought to achieve. Mothers, in turn, received information on child care and development, for the better of the whole family. They also published their first Mujeres Libres magazine as the war broke out, being printed until the front reached Barcelona.

Mujures Libres had much opposition, as feminism does today, believing women cannot be a good mother and a good working woman. Their roles would always be limited to parenting. Many believed that anarchism could not work if women soughtto undermine men, even though one of their aim goals was an egalitarian society with freedom for all. As Mujeres Libres flourished, so did the man tears, who got scared and voiced opposition. To this day, no one has figured out why men are so scared of women.

The revolution broke down ten months after the outbreak of war, and the ability of the Mujeres Libres faltered. The inability to work together got the better of the left-wing factions, and the strength of the Nationalists slowly ate away at freedoms gained for the working class. Fighting and killing became the only activity in all parts of Spain.

Sánchez fled to Valencia and worked as a journal editor for Threshold, and met the love of her life, America Barroso. Sánchez became a member of the SIA (international antifascist union) and worked as their General Secretary, who supplied anarchist aid to the wounded and fleeing during the war. Sánchez and Barroso were forced to flee to France in 1939 as anarchists, but were forced out of there by Nazis in 1941. Sánchez did not have the luxury of anonymity and had to live quietly in Valencia, living with her ‘wife’s’ family, as all same-sex relationships were illegal, and fascism and Catholicism were raining down. Sánchez worked as an editor and Barroso worked at the Argentine consulate, until Sánchez died of cancer in 1960, aged 75.

Sánchez was buried quietly in Valencia with a headstone which reads –

¿Pero es verdad que la esperanza ha muerto? But is it true that hope has died?

This is not a detailed analysis, just a highlight of the Sánchez’s life. Things get lost in translation – Feel free to suggest an addition/clarification/correction below. The more the world remembers, the better. All photos are linked to source for credit

This Week in Spanish Civil War History – Week 29: 29 January – 5 February 1937

Published on January 29, 2017January 29, 2017 by Caroline AngusLeave a comment

February 2

Preparations for the Battle of Jarama, east of Madrid, are complete. The aim is to cross the Jarama river and cut off communications between Madrid and the temporary capital, Valencia, to the east. The Nationalists have 15,000 men ready, along with support of the German Condor Legion, along with tanks and machine guns. The Republicans have 30,000 men including international volunteers and are spread out ready to hold steady.

February 3

The Army of the South decides it is time to attack the city of Málaga from the west, starting from the already fallen town of Ronda. The Nationalists have 15,000 troops, and the accompanying Italian Blackshirts have another 10,000 men and plenty of supplies. The Republicans holding Málaga have around 12,000 men, only 8,000 armed. None have been trained in battle.

February 4

The Málaga Republicans are not ready to take on the Italians, who are prepared for armoured warfare, and have tanks ready while the Republicans do not even have enough bullets for their guns. The Italians make a huge gain in territory in one day and many Republicans are killed around the outskirts of the city.

February 5

The Republicans have 600 right-wing hostages kept on a ship at the port, and many are killed in revenge for air raids which are unleashed on the city. Republicans have no air defense or planes of their own. No roadblocks have been set up and no trenches have been dug. The CNT and the Communists have been running the area, but have difficulty working together. Colonel Villalba who runs the Republicans, has no ammunition to hand out and no guns to place in strategic locations for defense. Over the days of fighting, 4,000 innocents will be killed in Málaga. There is no way Málaga can hold off the Nationalists and people prepare to flee, in what shall soon be known as the Málaga-Almería road massacre, where between 3,000-5,000 will die.

NB: A special post on the massacres of Málaga will be posted on February 7.

February 5

The Nationalist offensive begin on the west bank of the Jarama river, catching the Republicans by surprise after heavy rain. The Nationalists have highly trained men who advance with whole brigades in columns, meaning the Republicans simply overwhelmed. While the Nationalists have a good first day, they did not gain the total control as planned, and thus begins the now-infamous battle lasting three bloody weeks. (All daily events will be posted from next week)

JANUARY SPAIN BOOK REVIEW: ‘Boadilla’ by Esmond Romilly

Published on January 22, 2017January 22, 2017 by Caroline AngusLeave a comment

In 1936 Esmond Romilly, nephew of Great Britain’s ‘War Chancellor’ Winston Churchill and outspoken pacifist, went to fight with the International Brigades for the democratically elected Spanish government against the insurgent fascist general Francisco Franco. This is the unheroic, unsentimental account he wrote immediately after the fighting, fresh and personal like no other, spiced with dry English humor.

There have been other records of the part played by the British members of the International Brigade at the siege of Madrid. But Mr. Romilly’s is the most full. He is one of the two survivors of the original ten British volunteers attached to the Thaelmann Battalion in the early days of the war. So his book has its place in the annals of the contemporary struggle for liberty. He writes easily and simply. There are occasional breaths of Hemingway, but in the later chapters especially he displays a detached casualness—unusual in so young a writer (Mr. Romilly is nineteen)—that is genuinely dramatic and moving. Without heroics he conveys the feelings of those untrained enthusiasts (the author’s military experience was confined to refusing to join his school O.T.C.) suddenly plunged into a battle fought apparently at random. Caught between a cross-fire, the little group was almost wiped out. Their bodies were never found.

cover art and blurb via amazon and spectator

As mentioned a few weeks in ago in This Week in Spanish Civil War History – Week 25: 1 -7 January 1937, the battles for Corunna Road and the fight to take the town of Boadilla del Monte, just outside Madrid, were chronicled by 19-year-old English volunteer Esmond Romilly.

The book starts off by promising to account the battle of Boadilla in a straight-forward fashion, as that it does. It tells a very simple story of what happened, all written while fresh in the author’s mind in 1937, as he holidays on honeymoon in France. Romilly came from a rich family, married in another rich family, but for a few months in late 1936 and early 1937, he fought to make ‘Madrid the grave of fascism.’ He had little stamina for the war, but he was an excellent example of unprepared men thrown into a poorly planned battle, so typical of volunteers in Spain.

The book starts with a background of all the main characters that Romilly met on the trip – Joe Gough, Harry Audley, Aussie Whateley, Jerry Fontana, Lorimer Birch, Arnold Jeans, Bill Scott, Tom Mann and Martin Messer. It seems in this short time, Romilly got to know these men very well. After the battle to claim Boadilla, he would go home alone.

The early chapters show him working to get by in France as he makes his way south, arriving in Spain by ship at Valencia. The Albacete training bases had been set up by this time. Romilly describes this as playing at soldiers. He had no idea how to use a rifle, couldn’t speak any Spanish and was constantly suffering dysentery. He met many Germans, Latvians and French men, as well as his fellow Englishmen, and the story tells of the usual difficulties marching with supplies and being hot, of the whole thing having a ‘field day’ atmosphere while away from the front. Romilly has given some people assumed names, most those who were German or went to Germany after the war (it was illegal for Germans to aid the Republicans. Those returning home were jailed).

One thing that stood out was Romilly being told by French communist André Marty that the Republicans needed three things to win the war – political unity, military leaders with experience, and discipline. They had none of these.

Romilly uses assumed names for the towns of his initial battles. Battle starts in chapter 5 when out of nowhere, Romilly finds himself under fire, his first reality in the civil war just south of Madrid. As soon as they hit the front at ‘Noreno’, Romilly gets lost under darkness, and ends up walking miles the wrong way, meeting up with others, and eventually making their way to ‘Melilla’ (thought to be Villaconejos. No one know why Romilly changed the town names). Though as dawn air raids strike, the men are lucky to have gotten lost and in the wrong town.

Romilly seems to run around, never really having a clue what is going on, where they are heading or what to do. Dysentery is the one thing everyone shares, and the bitter cold of being up on the plain around Madrid really hits home, with only those prepped by anarchists in Barcelona are ready for it, as the rest of the Thaelmann Battalion have to struggle on.

The battalion team up with the Garibaldi battalion and thrown into fighting in University City on the northern tip of Madrid. Romilly recalls seeing Moorish soldiers shooting into trenches were his comrades were, their bayonets slashing at those trapped but not killed. He details his time fighting in University City very well, saying the night smelled night ‘dead men, crackling flames and drizzle’.

Romilly soon is in Madrid at the Ritz, swirling brandy and bathing again. He gets eight days’ training in the town (now suburb) of Fuencarral north of Madrid, before heading back to Majadahonda, a village (now suburb) west of Madrid. Now the battles for Corunna Road and the surrounding towns are all on, and Romilly is sent to hold the tiny town of Boadilla. Under the air raids and against the well-prepped Nationalists, the whole battle falls into total chaos, of watching close friends die and running away in blind panic. One by one, as they retreat, Romilly’s friends are killed, not by the Moorish soldiers that anticipated, but by uniformed Spaniards.

Romilly is one of only a couple who survived Boadilla. He speaks of meeting English poet John Cornford along the way, another young Englishman, with his head bandaged. Cornford never made it out alive either. The few remaining living foreigners (just over a dozen volunteers from a combined Spanish and volunteer group of 15,000 at Corunna Road battles) made it to El Pardo (just outside Madrid) where they came to grips with the brutal losses.

Romilly was diagnosed with neuralgia, damaging nerves causing excessive pain, and was sent home, where he married Jessica Mitford, and then wrote the fresh accounts of the men left in the mud at Boadilla. Romilly went on to fight in WWII but died in 1941.