This Week in Spanish Civil War History – Weeks 133 – 137: 1 – 28 February 1939

February 1

Prime Minister Negrín, holding a meeting at Figueres Castle, suggests a surrender to Franco, on one condition – those left living would be respected and they  could vote on how a new government would be formed. Franco does not accept this surrender.

February 2

The Nationalists who took Barcelona have made the 100 kilometres hike north and take Girona, which no longer has any Republican protection.

Nationalists take Girona

February 3

The Nationalist troops from Girona hike another 15 kilometres north, to catch up with any refugees still trying to escape to France. They are now only 50 kilometres from the border to France, and will close the border once they arrive. German planes are still bombing refugees from the air.

February 4 

After a month of fighting, the Valsequillo Offensive comes to end, as Nationalist forces around Peraleda del Zaucejo on the Extremadura/Andalucia border recapture all the area the Republicans had initially captured. At one stage, the Republicans had 500 square miles of land taken, though none had any strategic benefit, and the Nationalists have quickly taken it all back. The Republicans have suffered 6000 deaths and casualties, only 2000 for the Nationalists in an utterly pointless battle.

February 7

The island of Menorca, still held by the Republicans, is captured by the Nationalists by ship, with no resistance. Mallorca has been Nationalist-held for most of the war, and now the smaller island of Menorca is simply brought into the fold. Only one person is killed, but the Republicans start planning  a coup with Prime Minister Negrin.

February 8

All Republican troops are ordered to get to the border and are now also allowed to cross into France, along with the hundreds of thousands of refugees trying to reach the border. On foot, or on carts or trucks, Republican Spaniards are facing sleet and snow to try to reach France.

Refugees crossing at Le Perthus

February 9

The Nationalist troops finally reach the border into France. Between 400,000 to 500,000 Republican refugees have survived to get into France. The Republican president Manuel Azaña, Prime Minister Juan Negrín, Republican Army chief of staff Vicente Rojo, and Catalonian president Lluís Companys and his Catalan government have all made it over the border. Most people have crossed in the region have crossed at Le Perthus, but Prime Minister Negrín crosses back into Spain.

Refugees crossing at Le Perthus

February 10

The final Republican troops of General Modesto’s Army of the Ebro cross into France, just in time, as the border into France is totally sealed by Nationalist troops. Anyone still on the Spanish side has to side with the Nationalists, or would be killed or oppressed. With Catalonia totally in Nationalist hands, the Republicans have lost 200,000 troops and the entire Catalan war industry. But the Republicans still hold thirty percent of Spain, and their Prime Minister is back in the country and confident they can continue to resist.

Refugees heading for the brutal refugees camps in France
February 12

The 10.30am train arrives in Xàtiva Railway Station, sixty kilometres south from Valencia, carrying the 49th mixed brigade of the Republican army, to be transferred north. The station was also filled with family and friends of the troops when five Italian Savoia-Marchetti SM.79 bombers arrive from Mallorca and drop twenty 250kg bombs from 13,800 feet. The bombing makes a direct hit on the train, killing 129 people, 109  instantly. Most are troops, though 14 women and three children are also killed. A few surviving troops are still sent on to join other brigades, as the 49th was too decimated to continue with any plans. Another 200 people are injured in the brutal attack.

Bombing Xativa from the air

February 13

From Burgos, Franco publishes his Ley de Responsabilidades Políticas (Law of Political Responsibilities). The law states that anyone who opposed the Nationalist rebellion and coup in July 1936, and anyone a member of any Republican party from October 1934, is guilty of military rebellion (ironically). As the law is backdated to 1 October 1934, all Republican sympathisers and members can be prosecuted for aiding the Republican rebellion (again, how ironic).

The Ley de Responsabilidades Políticas punishes people with fines ranging from 1000 pesetas through to confiscations of all assets. Anyone prosecuted could also be punished with restriction of movement and activities, forced to live where appointed and possible loss of Spanish citizenship, depending on their level of Republican association. Anyone dead or disappeared (either as refugees in France or those killed and dumped in the war) will have their remaining family members prosecuted on their behalf.

Between 1939 and 1945, 500,000 people, dead or alive, will be prosecuted, some two percent of the population.

February 27

Both France and Great Britain  decide to end their role in the Non-Intervention agreement and recognise Franco and his Nationalist government in Burgos. With the threat of European war, and half a million Spanish refugees in the south, France has their border with Spain blocked, with Franco’s ally Germany also causing strife. France needs to focus on itself and endorses fascism in Spain, as Germany and Italy have done throughout the war.

Britain has less reason to endorse Franco. Labour leader Clement Attlee, Leader of the Opposition, is furious with Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain’s decision. He stated, the first voice to do so, that Britain was hypocritical after almost three years of “non-intervention,” yet their lack of intervention is instead the thing that has helped fascism spread through Europe.

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This is not a detailed analysis, just a highlight (lowlight?) of the month’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 and captions are auto-linked to source for credit, and to provide further information.

A LITTLE JAUNT TO SPAIN – REVIEW PART 4: On the road with ‘Blood in the Valencian Soil’

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The traveller sees what he sees, the tourist sees what he has come to see – Gilbert K Chesterton

There are two things I don’t like – being mistaken for a romance novelist, and being called a tourist. I went to Spain without maps, guidebooks, or a plan for my trip. Yet, I decided to do something that would mix in two things I don’t like, and walked around like a tourist, taking photos of a book about love affairs destroyed by the Spanish Civil War. People in Valencia didn’t look twice at me, such is their relaxed nature. Madrileños looked at me like I was crazy, which was pretty fun. Either way, for several hours, I took photos of my last novel in some of the locations in the book.

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Caught being a tourist at Valencia’s Pont del Real

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Valencia’s Turia is a central point in the book through most of the novel, and in the titles to come in the ‘Secrets of Spain’ series. Who wouldn’t want to visit? I enjoyed sitting in the grass every day of my time in the city.

So here we are, in rough order as they appear in the novel, photos of my book and locations in BITVS. Even if you haven’t read the novel, you can still enjoy some beautiful parts of Spain –

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Chapter one – 1939: view of the Cuenca Convent San Pablo from the Beltrán family home in Barrio San Martín

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Chapter one – 1939: Cuenca’s Casas Colgadas, Hanging Houses, where Cayetano, Alejandro, Scarlett, Luna and Sofía discuss the civil war

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Chapter two – 2009: Madrid’s Plaza de Toros near where Luna meets Cayetano ‘the bull-minder’

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Chapter two – 2009: a walk in Madrid’s Retiro park

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Chapter three – 2009: a night at Madrid’s Ritz hotel

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Chapter seven – 1939: the drop from Luna’s window

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Chapter eight – 2009: Cayetano follows Luna in Valencia’s Turia

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Chapter 11 – 2009: Luna and Cayetano go to Cuenca in search of their namesakes

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Chapter 12 – 2009: Cayetano and Luna get into a fight at Cuenca’s cathedral

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Chapter 13 – 1939: Luna, Cayetano and Scarlett panic run up Cuenca’s Barrio San Martín steps

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Chapter 14 – 2009: a stolen night in Cuenca’s parador

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Chapter 19 – 2009: another visit to Madrid to uncover the Beltrán family secret

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Chapter 21 – 1939: a secret burial in the Valencian mountains

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Chapter 21 – 1939: arriving in Valencia as the war comes to an end

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Chapter 21 – 1939: Placa del L’Angel, where a plan to survive the war is hatched

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Chapter 24 – 2009: a disasterous night out in Valencia’s El Carmen district

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Chapter 26 – 2009: a secret hideaway in the Valencian mountains is found

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Chapter 29 – 1939: panic at the clock tower at Valencia’s port

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Chapter 33 – 2009: Luna goes back to work as a Valencian bike mechanic

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Chapter 34 – 2009 and 1939: a declaration of love (written on Cuenca’s gorge bridge) that is broken and forgotten

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Chapter 35 – 2009: Cayetano hears a painful truth, another barrier to getting back in the bullring

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Chapter 39 – 2009: a bullfighter and a bike mechanic at the Valencia’s Plaza de la Virgen fountain

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Chapter 39 – 2009: the entrance to the Valencia cathedral where the Water Court meet

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Chapter 45 – 2009: a new grave discovered in the Valencia mountains

There you have it! Because I am doing posts on Valencia, Madrid and Cuenca, I didn’t feel the need to go into specific detail about each location, I will save that for other posts. In the spirit of not planning my trip, I unexpectedly ended up in Xátiva. I didn’t want to visit the town again, but the fun trip gave me this photo, standing in the spot where, in 2005, my husband took a random scenic photo. It ended up being the photo that graces the cover of BITVS, but I didn’t have a copy of the book on me that day!

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So, what happened to the copy of the book in the photos? It got autographed and given to a friend who was kind enough to accompany me on a very cold day out in Madrid as I took the photos. Thank you for your good humour and an arm-in-arm stroll in Retiro, in the spirit of the novel. Being able to talk about Spain and the civil war every day was the highlight of my trip.

Up next… Part 5 (of 10) – Madrid Tapas and History Tour with James Blick

*all photos are authors own, with the exception of photos 1 & 2. Owner – Sabine Kern.

A LITTLE JAUNT TO SPAIN – REVIEW PART 1: High and Lows of Spain

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Hello! I’m back from my two weeks in Spain. If you were following my public twitter account, you probably got an idea of what I’ve been up to these last sixteen days. It was my first time in Spain as a tourist, I have only ever been to Spain while living there in the past. I have plenty to share, including-

The top ten things I rediscovered about Valencia

The civil war history of Barcelona with Nick Lloyd

On the road with Blood in the Valencian Soil

Tapas and History Tour with James Blick

Bullfighting – Valencia vs. Madrid

Valle de los Caídos: Spain’s most terrifying location

Learning to be a tourist in Spain

Teruel: Spain’s hidden interior

Ávila, Segovia, Cuenca and Toledo: Small towns, big charms

But first, here is a quick round-up of Spain for me in 2013 (in no particular order) –

Highlight of the trip was walking through Valencia’s Turia. I did this every day, but the night before I left, I wandered the park from the Arts and Sciences complex to the Torre de Serranos and it was magical in the late afternoon sunshine. Every city needs a space like the Turia.

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BITVS goes to the Turia

Worst moment of the trip was getting caught in the tour group bustle of Toledo. The place was filled with mindless drones, all walking along, looking at the same few things, one after another. They don’t even go to the Alcazar. Sure, it’s rebuilt, but anyone with half an interest in Spain will know of the bloody war battle that occurred there. It’s a must-see spot.

Biggest surprise in Spain was the level of English spoken. Okay, I’ve been gone nearly six years, but the way people speak has really changed. I also discovered that my Spanish isn’t as bad as I thought.

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English pamphlet in Xativa

Most exceeding of expectations was definitely Madrid. I put this down to the people, despite their reserved nature. I have been to Madrid before, but I saw the city in a new light. I will elaborate in Madrid’s dedicated blog post. Madrid gave me a new sense of confidence, and was the only city to keep me partying to dawn.

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Me and James in Madrid

Lowest point in the trip was when I arrived in Cuenca. The views looked exactly like the photos and that should have been great; but it wasn’t. I got there and had a sense of being trapped far from the whole world. The town got better as I wandered the place, and the bolt-hole bar we spent the evening in made everything okay again.

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Cuenca’s gorge bridge where you can leave a message of undying love – so I did

Unexpected fun came when I met two men on the trip to Segovia. They were celebrating their engagement by visiting Spain. Combined with a lovely English woman, the trip held more excitement that we expected. The wild asparagus at lunch was divine.

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Segovia’s Sleeping Beauty castle

The least surprising thing was the noise level in Valencia. I got more peace on Barcelona’s La Rambla than I did in any location in Valencia. They may have changed the laws on late night noise, but somehow that makes no difference. That doesn’t even count the fiesta going on; regular life is at full volume.

Mixed feelings award went to all the protests going on. I have literally lost count on the number of protests I walked into in Barcelona, Valencia and Madrid. While I admire the Spanish people and their willingness to stand up for their rights, it’s heartbreaking to see what the country is going through.

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Protesting outside banks in Valencia

Saddest moment came when I was taking the bus in Valencia. I saw something out the window and thought, ‘I must remember to tell Dad about that’. My father died horrifically last July. I cried alone on a public bus. Not a great moment.

Happiest moment was again in Valencia, when I first arrived in the city. I hadn’t enjoyed the train trip too much and was feeling a bit low. But after finding the rented apartment, I set off in search of the new Mercadona and it occurred to me how well I know the city and instantly welcome I felt. My six-year absence may as well have not existed. I could have partied all night long had I not collapsed of exhaustion at 1am.

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Iconic horchata in Central Valencia

Most shocking moment is without doubt visiting Valle de los Caídos (Valley of the Fallen) outside Madrid. It is dictator Francisco Franco’s scary tomb, built by slaves and has the largest Christian cross in the world on top (150 metres). No photo can show the expanse or the horror of this place. Not only is a fascist dictator honoured here, but built into the place is 30,000 unnamed Republicans who were murdered, then dug back up and stuffed into the basilica like padding, without consent of their families. There, a man akin to Hitler or Mussolini, is honoured with flowers, fascist salutes and singing children. I’ll do a separate post, but if there was a God, he wouldn’t go near that place.

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WTF!?!

Spontaneous enjoyment award goes to driving back to Valencia from Teruel. We jumped off the main road and took the CV310 through the Sierra Calderona. This, of course, is the main spot in the Blood in the Valencian Soil. We climbed a dirt road to listen to the silence of ‘Escondrijo’, Luna Montgomery’s country home, meandered through the hillside towns featured in the book, and stopped for coffee at the Blanquet, the cafe in Náquera, which is central for many readers of In The Hands of Love. It was a full and rewarding day.

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‘Escondrijo’ in the Valencian mountains!

I was unprepared for the cold in Madrid. When I first arrived there, it was warm and cheerful. But the final two days spent in the great city were freezing. It made an Auckland winter look like a tropical paradise. I have only ever visited Madrid in summer (the three months of hell), but its ‘nine months of winter’ really crept back to give me a taste of its power. However, it stopped none of the fun. I stopped at Desigual and bought this coat which a dozen people have already complimented me on.

A really disappointing point came when I visited Montjuïc castle in Barcelona. It is a central point in Spain’s history, both during the civil war and the brutality that proceeded under Franco (plus if you have read Carlos Ruiz Zafon’s The Angel’s Game, it’s a must-see). Many famous names were imprisoned, tortured and murdered within those walls. I walked into this location, and people were sipping coke and having lunch on the same cobbles where violated souls perished. Okay, you could probably say this about lots of places in Europe, but it really struck a cord with me. I took the bus back to the city feeling disappointed.

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Outside Montjuïc castle

Unexpected neutrality hit during bullfighting. I am not a bullfight hater. I have respect for toreros. Hell, I write about them. I have never endorsed or enjoyed the murder aspect, but when I went to a fight in Valencia, I felt underwhelmed. I’m glad I went, but sitting high above it, you are disconnected with its reality. When sitting against the barrier at Las Ventas in Madrid, it was a whole other story. Let’s say I got everything I ever needed to know about bullfighting. The constant swirl of cigar smoke did not help the ambiance. I can say with confidence that while I will continue to write about toreros, but I have no need to visit again.

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Las Ventas in Madrid

The most weirded out moment came when I visited Valencia’s port area. The darsena, built to house the 2007 America’s Cup, now lies empty. It looks exactly the same, down to the buildings still branded with sailing teams’ names. The old Prada building, once the jewel of the area, has its sail-fabric walls breaking down at record speed. The walls were made of sails built for the 2003 America’s Cup, and were popular and prized. Now, they are peeling away and left to decay. The whole area looks like a time capsule of my former Spanish life, lying discarded like a stripped corpse. Auckland held the Cup before Valencia, and now we have the Viaduct area filled with parks, playgrounds, cafes, bars and hotels. Valencia could have used their space likewise, but haven’t. No wonder the expensive event was so unpopular with the locals.

What I learned was that I don’t like to travel alone. I don’t mind it, but fun hit more often when other people were around. I spent many days with my friend Sabine Kern on the trip, and with the involvement of people like Graham Hunt in Valencia, Nick Lloyd in Barcelona and James Blick in Madrid, the trip was greatly enhanced.

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Drinking from the porrón in Barcelona. Check out how good I am!

I underestimated how many people read what I have written about Spain. I constantly ran into people who had read my work and wanted to talk about Spain. People held what I had to say in high regard. I consider myself to be an invisible person; I live my life and no one knows what I write. However, in Spain, people have taken notice.

I felt pleased to know that all the details I have put into my Secrets of Spain series are correct. As I wandered the locations in the last book, and the locales of the next novel, everything is exactly as I expected/wrote/needed. There is no need to rush home and make changes.

It felt disheartening at times when confronted with some Spanish people. It was little things – they don’t hold doors for one another, they push into queues like it’s life or death instead of  a coffee order, and walk around like they are oblivious to one another’s needs or feelings. I can only put this down to big city living. I risk sounding like a real country bumpkin here, but those first few days, as I based myself in Madrid while doing day trips, I got back to my hotel and shook my head in disbelief. I wondered if everyone had frayed nerves at the end of each day. I live in a large congested city, but it feels like luxury island living in comparison to the push and shove of Europe. In fact, I despaired until I hit Valencia and all its good vibes calmed me down.

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The procession of la Virgen de los Desamparados outside Valencia’s basilica. My face says it all

Number of plane miles travelled: 40,000 kms (yep, I checked that figure) – 50 hours

Number of times I got asked out on a date: 27

Number of nights where I got decent sleep: zero

Number of alcoholic beverages consumed: too many

Number of mornings I had enthusiasm to get up: zero

Number of times I got accosted by someone trying to lure me into a restaurant: 564151* (*not scientifically proven)

Number of new books purchased and stuffed in carry-on luggage: 18

Number of times lost in a city: zero! That includes walking and in the car

Number of Skype calls home: 10 (internet connection didn’t allow for every day)

Number of times I wished I hadn’t done the trip: 4 (2 of them were in-flight)

Number of kisses given/received: approx 100

Number of  shameless selfies taken: 71

Number of times caught singing in public: 9 (including doing a “Locked Out of Heaven” duet with the airport shuttle driver)

BEST MOMENT OF THE TRIP WAS something that made my heart flutter more than it has in some time. I can’t tell you what that was because what happens in Spain, stays in Spain.

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Gratuitous breakfast photo to finish the post

Next post – The top ten things I rediscovered about Valencia

Click here for the other parts of this series – Spain 2013 in Review