Carmela dumped the last of the potatoes into the boiling water. The water had come on for a few hours earlier that day, so at least she hadn't had to lug it from a truck. Carrying bottles and tins of water home made life a misery, so she was grateful whenever the workers were able to get the mains water going. She was also grateful to the neighbourhood worker's council making sure water trucks arrived. But while those things were truly a blessing, they didn't make the water any less heavy to tote when they failed.
"Carmela! Carmelita! Are you there?" The familiar voice of her neighbour Isabela made Carmela smile. "Yes, comrade, come in, come in!". An older woman with gray hair done into a tight a bun came into the room. "Jesus be wi... um... Good Day, comrade! Did you see, we had water this morning! And they say the current may be on soon!". She sighed "if those terrible Fascists don't bomb again".
Carmela smiled a tired smile "You may as well say if the sun doesn't rise tomorrow. They've bombed us every day since the siege began. You really should've gone with the evacuation, my dear comrade".
Isabela straighted up and spat "Those filthy Moors won't drive ME away. Not while my Paco is out with his POUM unit!" She beamed proudly, then sagged a bit. "I'm so proud of him - he's serving out near the university, you know. Front lines. But I fear for him. I'd light a candle, but..."
Carmela put her hand on her friend's shoulder "Go 3 blocks over - there's a church some members of the CGT are protecting. They even have banners with "Red Mary" on them. That priest that was always in trouble before the Revolution for being a rojo, he's there. He says Our Saviour was the first Communist, so they let him be". Isabela crossed herself without thinking. Carmela continued. "You should go there, it's the only place you can safely still do that in public these days".
"Thank you, my dear, I do forget" Isabela sighed.
Outside, a buzzing sound began, growing in volume until it was a thrumming roar, making the buildings shake. "Ai, Dios mio" Carmela wailed, "another raid, a curse on Hitler and Mussolini and their pilots!"
The noise outside grew louder, but no bombs fell. All over Madrid, fearful faces turned skyward, wondering what was about to happen. Sure enough, a huge squadron of Junkers bombers flew overhead, but there was something different...
A cry arose at one end of the city, and raced through every street, every alley, until it seemed every one of Madrid's remaining citizens was joining in: "SON NUESTROS! SON NUESTROS!" (They're ours! They're ours!).
The cry grew louder as leaflets fell from the planes and were read, and the markings on the planes became clear.
From nearly 1 million throats came the cry "VIVA ARGENTINA!"
"Carmela! Carmelita! Are you there?" The familiar voice of her neighbour Isabela made Carmela smile. "Yes, comrade, come in, come in!". An older woman with gray hair done into a tight a bun came into the room. "Jesus be wi... um... Good Day, comrade! Did you see, we had water this morning! And they say the current may be on soon!". She sighed "if those terrible Fascists don't bomb again".
Carmela smiled a tired smile "You may as well say if the sun doesn't rise tomorrow. They've bombed us every day since the siege began. You really should've gone with the evacuation, my dear comrade".
Isabela straighted up and spat "Those filthy Moors won't drive ME away. Not while my Paco is out with his POUM unit!" She beamed proudly, then sagged a bit. "I'm so proud of him - he's serving out near the university, you know. Front lines. But I fear for him. I'd light a candle, but..."
Carmela put her hand on her friend's shoulder "Go 3 blocks over - there's a church some members of the CGT are protecting. They even have banners with "Red Mary" on them. That priest that was always in trouble before the Revolution for being a rojo, he's there. He says Our Saviour was the first Communist, so they let him be". Isabela crossed herself without thinking. Carmela continued. "You should go there, it's the only place you can safely still do that in public these days".
"Thank you, my dear, I do forget" Isabela sighed.
Outside, a buzzing sound began, growing in volume until it was a thrumming roar, making the buildings shake. "Ai, Dios mio" Carmela wailed, "another raid, a curse on Hitler and Mussolini and their pilots!"
The noise outside grew louder, but no bombs fell. All over Madrid, fearful faces turned skyward, wondering what was about to happen. Sure enough, a huge squadron of Junkers bombers flew overhead, but there was something different...
A cry arose at one end of the city, and raced through every street, every alley, until it seemed every one of Madrid's remaining citizens was joining in: "SON NUESTROS! SON NUESTROS!" (They're ours! They're ours!).
The cry grew louder as leaflets fell from the planes and were read, and the markings on the planes became clear.
From nearly 1 million throats came the cry "VIVA ARGENTINA!"
