BUTTERFLY AND FALCON (Part 4)


By KATZMAREK


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Author's note.


This is a work of fiction based on fact. Opinions and
interpretations of events expressed are my own and as such are
entirely contestable.


This remains my property and may not be used for gain without
my express permission in writing.


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A year after the May Days revolt, the Russians were beginning
to disengage from Spain. The Nationalists of Generalisimo Franco
had gained the sea between Barcelona and Valencia, had that town
under siege, and were cruising through Catalonia unchecked.


Franco had hammered together the factions of his Right Wing
coalition, the CEDA, the Falange and the Carlists, to form the
SED, the party through which he would exert his personal rule
for the next 40 years.


Well over 100,000 people were killed by the Nationalists
following their victory in March 1939. Statistics are
understated and unreliable. Many more fled to France, where some
fell into the hands of the Nazis when that country was invaded
in 1940. Some were returned to Franco's justice and at least 1
former POUM member spent 5 years at Buchenwald concentration
camp.


But Franco was no Hitler. Certainly, in his drive to restore
unity and order, he rigourously censored the Press and banned
political parties and Trade Unions. But, the Catholic Church
never quite regained the ascendency it once had in Spanish
society. Capitalism was again restored, but major enterprises
had to accept a great deal of State control, and labour laws
were introduced and enforced. He was bitterly anti-Communist,
and anti-Syndicalist (as the FAI/CNT was described) and their
commanders above a certain level, if caught, were given long
prison sentences.


Franco's strength of personality, and his ability to conciliate
between the rival factions in the SED ensured that some of the
more extreme policies advocated by these groups were dropped.
The Falangists never quite achieved the Fascist, pro-Hitler
State they wanted. The Carlists didn't place Carlos de Borbon
Palma on the Spanish throne, and the 'legitimate' Monarchist's
King Alphonso remained in exile.


Internationally, Franco kept Spain grudgingly out of the World
War, apart from some Blueshirt Volunteers to the Waffen SS. The
Spanish 'Blue' Division was ground up in the mincer of the
Eastern Front. He allowed German U boats to refuel in Cadiz and
Italian 'miale' two man mini-subs to operate against Gibraltar.
But at the same time, he kept reasonably cordial relations with
the Allies, keeping covert Axis activity on Spanish territory to
a minimum.


But the Spanish Civil War created a rich diaspora of art,
literature and music as well as political theorists and
radicals. Many of the emigres from the Republic were an
amazingly talented bunch who seeded the World with the passion
of their works. In addition many foreigners who served in the
International Brigades and the Lenin Division of the POUM wrote
movingly of their experiences. They described the inhuman
conditions in the trenches, of the bitter conflicts between the
various factions fighting for the Popular Front and of the
extraordinary violence and passion.


40 years of close censorship in Spain produced a generation
totally ignorant of the Civil War, except in a wholly one-sided
way. Many of the participants, such as the Communist 'La
Passionaria,' were given to a romantic view in later years that
ignored the somewhat venal activities of their particular
faction while playing up the 'traitorous' actions of their
adversaries. No-one smothered themselves in glory, yet their
various agendas contained valid and logical arguments.


Euro-communist parties must share some of the responsibility
for lionising Josef Stalin and the Soviet Union as the epitome
of the Worker's State. It never was and, at worse, was a brutal
dictatorship totally obsessed with its own self-interest.
'Uncle' Joe solidified his personal rule during the thirties by
hounding opponents at home and abroad relentlessly.


Russia's desire for an 'anti-fascist alliance' only came to
fruition when Hitler foolishly invaded in 1941. The Comintern
was quietly wound up, but it hadn't been fostering World
revolution since Stalin took over its running in the early
thirties. Instead, he converted it to an instrument of Soviet
foreign policy. Its swansong had been the creation of the
International Brigades in 1936, the nearest it ever came to
building an international army defending the rights of the
working class. Ironically, the Brigades were composed of
significant numbers of the hated bourgeoisie, the supposed
'class enemies' of the Workers.


The 'far left' were dispersed following the May days and their
power in Catalonia destroyed. Disgruntled Anarchists and their
allies in the POUM claimed they'd been sold out by their
leaders. Certainly the CNT's leadership in Madrid had not
countenanced the revolt nor authorised the use of the Anarchist
Brigades in the Republican Army to assist the inhabitants of
Barcelona. They said little when the PCE smashed the revolt.


Aprobrium fell on the POUM, who were categorised unfairly as
the instigators. The POUM, in turn, blamed the 'Syndicalists'
for hanging them out to dry, the ponderous decision-making
process of the CNT and its huge bureaucracy.


But the Anarchists would never have held out for as long as
four days if it hadn't been for the Lenin Division. Ill-armed
and untrained with their best soldiers away with the army, the
CNT proved to be poor street fighters.


-----------------------------


Benin continued to see Signor Garcia twice, sometimes three
times a week. She was afraid their little arrangement would be
noticed but, if it was, no-one said anything.


It was not long before he suggested they had full sex. He
offered her more and more money and presents until she found it
hard to refuse.


At the appointed hour she would slip in his back door and
through the kitchen. He waited for her in the parlour, sitting
on the sofa in a dressing-gown. He sat, she thought, with a look
of anticipation, but Benin grew contemptuous of his smiling
face. What she at first took for kindness, she now considered
lecherous and ugly. Although she scrubbed furiously in the tin
bath afterwards, the feeling of his oily hands on her wouldn't
wash away.


He was naked, as usual, under the dressing gown as if just
going to take a bath. She had 'disturbed him unexpectedly;'
skinny Benin, looking for her friend and finding the Signor all
alone with his wife out visiting. For 20 pesetas it was so hot
and stuffy she 'had' to get out of her skirt and parade around
in her underpants. Often his dressing gown would come apart and
she stared in 'disbelief' at his semi-flaccid sausage twitching
between his legs.


For another 20 pesetas she would 'agree' to make his bed,
bending so her cotton knickers would stretch over her small
bottom. Benin could hear his rasping breath behind her, imagined
he was pulling on his cock as his eyes were fixed on her arse.
She could sense him moving closer until his sticky member nudged
her. For 20 pesetas more she would 'agree' to kiss and suck it.


Often that would be enough and he would've coaxed his cock
sufficiently that he couldn't delay his coming. Benin would
sense when he was about to burst and pull her shirt open so he
splattered her chest rather than leave stains on her clothing.
Sometimes, however, he would lift her face gently off him and
offer her 50 pesetas. That would mean he'd want her to take down
her knickers and lie across his legs for being 'naughty.' Five
or six lusty smacks later, with her fist around his cock, he
might offer her another 50, if she wanted.


160 pesetas for a prostitute in 1930's Spain, even with
inflation, was a reasonable amount of money. It was more than
any poor female might expect as a domestic or seamstress. Benin
clung to that thought as the Signor asked her to bend over the
bed, knees spread and arse in the air.


She was always a little moist from the spanking, nevertheless
his cock felt tight and uncomfortable inside her. Occasionally
he hurt her, but not often, and he never lasted that long. His
fingernails sometimes left marks as they dug into her flanks.
Eventually he'd stop punching away at her and she felt relieved
when she felt the faintly cool emissions splashing over her
arse. At last she could go home for a bath, and a little richer.


She woke with a start and realised she'd been dreaming. She was
nude and pressed up against John's back in bed at their little
hotel room. Benin smiled to herself, reached over, and was
satisfied his cock had the usual morning stiffness. She squeezed
him gently until she was rewarded when he turned over and kissed
her.


His kissing always released a flood of desire within Benin.
Mouth working, she would hold his head, even as he rolled on top
and between her waiting legs. Then she liked to feel the flexing
of his arse as he eased gently inside her waiting vagina.


Making love in the morning was always slow and dreamy. They'd
often pause and talk, while John slowly moved to keep his
erection hard. After a while he would lay his cheek next to hers
and his hands would move to hold her bottom. That was his
signal, she learned, when he wanted to come.


--------------------------------------


A year later, Italian soldiers were moving up from Saragossa to
new positions on the North bank of the Ebro. They were members
of the 'Legiero,' 'volunteers' from Fascist Italy gone to fight
against 'Bolshevism' in Spain. Their Division was the 'Ariete',
or 'Ram' Division, Fascist Blackshirts all and led by a regular
Italian Army General called Riotta, part of Spanish Nationalist
General Modesto's command.


Some build up of Republican Forces, whom the Italians
contemptuously called 'Rojos,' had been noted along the river.
The Italians took up positions on an anonymous hill known as
'621.'


To the Italians, the Republicans were all communists, and they
were there as part of Adolf Hitler's 'Anti-Comintern Pact.' The
Italian Blackshirts soon gained a reputation for excessive
brutality and the routine torturing of prisoners. Consequently,
the were bitterly despised by their Spanish opponents.


Across the river, the Republican Army was becoming increasingly
a conscript one. Losses and desertion had sapped its strength
over the previous two years and some of the new soldiers were
poorly trained peasant kids. The best units had performed fairly
well, but the Army's problem was there just wasn't enough good
units, sufficiently equipped, to beat Franco's forces in the
field.


It is often dangerous when politicians believe themselves to be
Generals and a good example is the Republican Ebro campaign.
Prime Minister Juan Negrin and his Russian advisors' plan was
grandiose to the point of lunacy. Storm Franco's positions on
the North bank of the Ebro and cut their way to the port of
Bilbao, thereby relieving the siege of Madrid and taking back
the North to the French Border. Realistically, the Republican
army was not capable of such an operation in 1938.


The Russians promised armour and urged the use of the
International Brigades as shock troops. A new marque of I16
aircraft was available, called the 'shturmavik,' optimised for
ground attack. The Russians had watched carefully the Condor
Legion's use of dive bombers and low flying strafing of the
enemy before an attack and wanted to try out the idea for
themselves. The airforce built up a force of 50 I16s to support
the offensive, backed by a squadron of the new Ilyushin DB2 twin-
engined bomber.


Most of the Nationalist forces in the North were engaged in the
attack on Bilbao and Santander. Modesto didn't take the
Republican troop movements on the Ebro river very seriously at
all, believing his positions were secure.


The Ebro is a wide, meandering and ancient river, sawing across
the North of Spain from Barcelona almost to Bilbao on the Biscay
coast. It is muddy and shallow, except where solid rock forces
it into deep channels or cataracts. Such a deep channel weaved
around hill 621.


The river side of the promontory was sheer rock face. Away from
the river, the ground steps down in gentle stages to the plain.
The Italians dug in artillery to fire over the river at the
Republicans. They were confident the deep channel would protect
them from being outflanked and had few positions on the lower
slopes. Their reserve was camped only a kilometre behind the
front line, in hindsight, a tactical error for a swiftly moving
enemy could catch them unprepared.


For the attack the Republicans planned to put two Batalions of
infantry, the British, 'John Bull's' and the American Lincoln's,
across the river to capture the artillery positions on hill 621.
Under this cover, a force of around 20 Russian tanks were to
ford the river on the Eastern side of the hill, where the river
was shallower. The Germans of the Thaelmann and Liebknecht
batalions and the Polish infantry were to follow the tanks and
exploit the breach. If all went well, the rest of the 11th and
13th International Brigades would follow on their heels.


Things began to go wrong almost imediately. The current was a
lot swifter than expected and the British and Americans were
held up as they tried to put a cable across the river to prevent
the boats being swept away. When the tanks arrived, they found
the Italian artillery still in position. Fortunately, the
Italians wouldn't fire without orders so they merely watched in
fascination as the Russians cruised up and down the bank firing
at nothing in particular.


It appears it took a long time for the penny to drop. First
reports sent back from the Italians to their headquarters were
treated with derision. 'No attack is forthcoming. This is merely
a provocation.' Even when the first of the British and Americans
began to arrive on the lower slopes, they seemed to believe it
was just a trench raid. Then waves of I16s and DB2s arrived, low
and fast, and showered their positions on the tops with bombs
and bullets.


---------------------------------------


John liked the feel of his new machine. It was a new I16bis
ground attack machine or 'shturmavik.' Already smoke flares had
been dropped on the hill, marking the Italian positions. The
first wave was already enthusiastically dropping bombs down the
throats of the Blackshirts.


But that wasn't the target for John's squadron, the 1st
Escuadrillo. They were to attack the rear of the enemy, a short
distance behind the lines. It was a tricky bit a flying, to skim
the top of the hill then howl down the slopes onto the waiting
enemy. John was puzzled, already the battle was in full swing
yet there was no air opposition. It appeared as if they'd caught
the enemy completely by surprise.


They came in in pairs, one slightly ahead of his wingman. John
had 'Roly' on his wing, the man stuck to him like glue. His
phosphor tracer bullets flashed past John's wingtip as the Pole
hammered the camp with all four of his 12.7mm machine guns. John
had the impression of a little Italian two-man tank sitting in
the middle of the their parade ground. He released his bombs
towards it before pulling up and away. The long snout of the
Mosca obscured his view of the ground as he climbed.


Meanwhile, on the lower slopes of hill 621, the Italians'
organisation was beginning to crumble. General Riotta was away
hunting with his dogs, apparently, and couldn't be reached. No-
one seemed willing to take charge. The British Batalion drove in
the outposts and began to push up the slope towards the Italian
guns. A Major ordered a withdrawal. He meant the men under
attack on the lower positions but word got around. The result
was confusion, as his men didn't know whether they were to
retreat up the hill or towards the rear of the lines. All the
time waves of aircraft continued to press home low level attacks.


Streams of Blackshirts began to drift back towards their camp
in the rear. More Republicans, this time the Americans, charged
in with bayonets to the North of the British and sent the
Blackshirts running in panic. Those who witnessed the charge
heard the Yanks yelling like Red Indians, their Red, Hammer and
Sickle flags waving enthusiastically, as they chased the
Italians.


To the East, the Russian armour was having trouble crossing the
river. The bed was soft and muddy and some of the heavy tanks
got stuck and had to be pulled out. Half-submerged, some turned
their guns on the Italians and pounded away until rescued. It
wasn't until the afternoon before all the armour was safely
across. The Germans and Poles then followed in long columns
behind the tanks.


The Republican timetable had been upset by the hold ups. They
should have been well on the way to Pamplona, the next
objective, but instead were still consolidating after making the
river crossing. However, the Blackshirts had withdrawn from the
field, leaving much of their equipment behind. Gleeful
Republicans scoured the area for abandoned Breda guns, a prized
find if captured complete with ammunition.


The Nationalist lines began to unravel by the next day,
eventually to a width of 25 kilometres. With more reserves, more
tanks, more artillery and transport, the way was open
practically to the Biscay coast. But nobody seemed too sure of
what to do next. Perhaps fearing a counter attack, they
dithered, allowing the Nationalists to regroup.


---------------------------------


John's improvised airfield had been cut out of farmland near a
town called Cervera. It was tough on the undercarriage and
airframe of the little fighters as they returned time and again
to rearm and refuel. He couldn't remember the number of sortes
he flew on the first day. But he recalled it was a 'happy' time,
with virtually no enemy fighters.


He'd left Benin behind at Alcala when he received his orders to
return to duty. He missed her, needing all his strength of will
to concentrate on the task in hand. Fortunately, there was
enough work to do to keep him occupied.


The next day the Russian squadron, the 4th Excuadrillo,
intercepted a flight of Dornier Do17 bombers of the Condor
Legion escorted by 6 Heinkel He59s. These they drove off easily
in a whirling dogfight South of the river. The Mosca pilots,
however, were sure this was only a beginning. Already the German
Messerschmitt squadrons in the North were receiving orders to
head for the Ebro front.


--------------------------------------


Benin returned to the Mujeres Libres headquarters in Madrid.
The atmosphere, though, had entirely changed from barely a Month
ago. The women seemed more strained, pessimistic, and even the
bouyant news of the Republican success on the Ebro failed to
lift the mood.


Madrid was being subjected to almost daily bombing by the
German Condor Legion. Across the river in the Western Suburbs,
the Nationalists held University City and used that position to
randomly lob artillery shells into the Republican part. Schools,
Hospitals, as well as military positions, had been hit. The
inevitable result of a siege against a major city full of
civilians.


The news from Catalonia was confusing. Many of the women had
family there but hard news of the situation was scarce. All news
reports were being filtered through the PCE's or the PSOE's
censors and, by the time the Government approved the report for
release to the public, there was little real substance left.
Occasionally, Anarchists would arrive from Barcelona and tell
them what they knew. But the news, whichever way you looked at
it, was bleak.


The Government had stopped supplying ammunition to the CNT/FAI.
The ML were down to about 5 rounds per person. The women had
hidden any modern automatic weapons they had lest they be siezed
by the Civil Guard. These were a problematic collection of
American, Spanish and Russian machineguns, requiring ammunition
of different calibres.


Most prized was the 9mm Labora, manufactured in Toledo by
traditional gunsmithing methods and machined to a high standard.
Next most popular was the Russian PPD, the forerunner of the
PPSh of WW2 fame. It was rugged, dependable and simple to use.
Some Thompson's were also available. That weapon was made famous
by Chicago gangsters but, in practice, it was prone to jamming.
Republican sympathisers in countries as far away as the USA had
entered into unholy alliances with gunrunners to smuggle arms to
the Popular Front.


Aircraft, too, found there way to Spain. Often they were
assembled secretly in France and flown over the Pyrenees past
Nationalist gunners. Some well-meaning citizens of the US
sponsored a Beech 'Staggerwing' civilian light aircraft to aid
the war effort. It was still sitting in a hanger outside Madrid
in 1939 unused. The Republican Air Force didn't find any role
for it.


But after two days of enduring the depressing atmosphere of
Madrid, the raids by the Civil Guards on CNT institutions and
the whistle and crump of random shelling, Benin decided to leave.


She acquired a shapeless set of khaki fatigues, dispensing with
her Anarchist black beret and replacing it with a cap. As such
she looked like any member of half a dozen citizen militias.
With her hair tied into a pony tail and tucked down her back,
she could pass for a man. Her beloved mentor Perdita presented
her with a PPD complete with spare ammunition. With a heavy
heart, Benin left Madrid. She was leaving behind many good
friends and comrades, perhaps never to see again. But deep
inside she knew there was no other choice. She had linked her
destiny to that of the river Ebro.


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KATZMAREK(C)


