II
August, 1936
Ian blinked as he entered the bright sunshine outside the church door. He took a few steps, stopped and sneezed…once, twice, and a third time. Wiping his nose on his handkerchief, he looked up and saw his father coming his way.
“My boy, I’ve just been talking to the parson, and he mentioned you missed choir practice last week. He wanted to know if you’ll be attending tonight’s practice? I won’t ask where you were, but I assume it has something to do with your trip today, eh?
“Well, I…uh…Eddy said he had a surprise, but first we needed to prep the barn and…”
“Ah, exactly as I suspected. Let me guess, you were out ‘tinkering’ with Eddy and ‘time got away from you?’ Well then, I’ll just let the church know that they’ll be missing your tenor voice from now on.”
“No…that’s not necessary…Look, Dad, I’m going flying this afternoon, and I’ll be back to practice tonight. I just need to get my kit from the car.”
“Alright, be careful. I’ll be at the club. Ring me there when you get home.”
Ian collected his leathers and gear from the trunk and walked across the parking lot. Across the street, propped up against an open-top convertible, stood a young man checking out the young women getting into the cars. Occasionally he would wink or make a comment, generally causing blushing and twittering among the young ladies.
Ian sauntered up:
“Eddy, I wish you wouldn’t tease them so. I know you aren’t interested in any of them.”
“Aw, they like it. And you know I can’t help it. Anyway, put your kit into the boot and lets go. I’ve got a surprise for you.”
“I know, you’ve told me.”
Ian dumped his stuff and climbed in. Eddy squealed out of the parking lot and out onto the road.
“You’re not going to
believe what I’ve got to show you…”
“Umm…since you won’t tell me ‘till we get there, I demand a change of subject.”
“To what? The weather? How about the abdication crisis?”
The car tires squealed as Eddy made a hard left.
“Oh, wait, I know!…the latest from Spain….Lets see Ian, last week the fascists were able to airlift parts of their army from Africa to Seville. Right over the ‘Rock!’ So much for our neutrality. The big news this week, is that we’ve formed a ‘non-intervention committee’ with the French, Germans, and Italy.”
“So I take it that the parties involved are rushing arms to the conflict?”
“Well, right now most arms arriving seem to be from the fascists, but they deny it, of course! Seems an Italian Savoia-Marchetti 81 bomber came down in Algeria…so we know that the bastards are lying.”
“What about arms for the republic?”
“The French were supposed to supply airplanes and guns, but our government is pressuring Blum to restrict the sale of armaments to the socialists. I’m not sure yet what their response will be. Such is the state of our ‘non-intervention.’ We’ll protest the fascist supplies which arrive while tying the hands of the properly elected Spanish state by starving it of its supporters. We ought to be ashamed.”
“Yeah…But, isn’t the popular front just a cover for the communists?”
“Even if it were so, the front was democratically elected, so it
is the legitimate government.”
“But is it? Is that the kind of government that Spaniards really want? The Front wants land reform, exaltation of the workers union, class struggle…I find it hard to believe that their victory was not obtained through some coercion.”
“Ah, my friend, you just don’t understand the power of the fascist right. Don’t believe all the propaganda they put out. Even now, they are ‘cleaning’ the zones around Seville of reds and socialists. They say hundreds have died already through summary executions and general lawlessness.”
“You seem awfully well informed…what’s your source on these goings on?”
“Umm…a couple of guys at Dad’s factory have been keeping me informed…Hey, we’re here.”
Eddy drew the car up next to the barn and stopped. Both young men got out and walked toward the door.
“Ian, try not to wet yourself.”
Ian rolled his eyes.
“Must you always be so dramatic?”
“Always…”
…and he opened the door…