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The strained feeling of prolonged, restless anticipation made it impossible to remain at home and continue our now futile routine of life. The following morning found us again in Palma. The city was sparking with news. Things had begin to happen. News, rumors - unknown but fully explained with individually enlarged details - were on every tongue.
Papers were being grabbed from the hands of running newsboys. One paper said, "Soon there will be a conflict such as Spain has never seen before ..." a culmination, in nothing less than CIVIL WAR., the hunt for man, crime and barbary converted into political instruments! The Culpables? The Responsibles? Lefts? Rights? Hatred, vengeance, despair! The causes are old. It is not now the hour to think of causes, but of solutions. There is not time to philosophise...it is a question of house and minutes, it will be worse for those who will refuse to see, to act, who persist in their comfortable attitude of "Todo se arreglara" - (all will arrange itself).
The troops in Morocco had rebelled against the government! The Army was in revolt! General Franco had left the Canary Islands and had taken charge of the troops and the Legion in Spanish Morocco. Everywhere the Falanges were rising to join and offer their strength to the rebels! The Civil Governor of the Balearics was confined! The Military Governor, General Godod, had taken over authority! The detained Falange leaders were being released from prison. The conflict had apparently begun.
The newly appointed Civil Governor asked the citizens of Palma to resume their normal life, to open all shops, cafés, bars and cinemas. In the afternoon the Municipal Band gave a concert under the trees on the Borne - the main thoroughfare.
After issuing his orders, General Goded left in a hydroplane for Barcelona to take over the military command of the forces of Cataluna.
Manuel Goded Llopis (October 15, 1882 - August 12, 1936)
All telephone and telegraph communications with the mainland were cut. The familiar streets and Palma presented overnight a new and strange aspect; groups of soldiers with machine guns were posted in front of all principle buildings, on all strategic corners throughout the city. The streets were patrolled by armed Falanges in blue shirts, bands of black and red bearing the Falange insignia of crossed arrows around their arms. Trucks and cars bristling with soldiers and Falanges with protruding guns circulated the street and roads.
Across the street from the Formentor Bar - where all Palma seemed to congregate to discuss the latest rumors, we watched the tired soldiers with their growing beards. For six days they did not leave their posts. We watched the laden trucks delivering their meals, women arriving with cigarettes, huge ensaimadas and other special cooked dainties. The men sent them cool drinks from the bar. When at last they could be relieved, none wished to relinquish such favored posts. As one of them remarked, "If this is war, may we never have peace!" Troops marched everywhere to the accompaniment of clapping hands and enthusiastic shoults of "Viva España, Arriba España."
The next few days, filled as they were with anxiety, still held their absurd surprises and moments of humor. People we had never suspected of any political interest, suddenly blossomed forth in full Falange regalia - or as characters of suspicion. One acquaintance, a mouse-like little sculptor, turned miraculously into an efficient Falange leader strapped in a belt of businesslike guns.
Another, developed into a dastardly Communist; to the sad discomfort of a friend whose unfortunate wife, with tragic lack of discrimination, chose one of our most hectic days to deliver herself of their joyously awaited heir. Her husband had just rushed her to the clinic when, to his horror, soldiers arrived to remove the doctor; a communist agitator of important dimensions so it was said. In vain did he plead that the doctor be allowed to remain until the blessed event had taken place; the new arrival having shown her independence and disdain of a communist doctor. Obviously a full-fledged Falange baby, declared the proud father. Another incident to confirm my belief that doctors and priests should refrain from politics.
Then the bombing began! This was prefaced by the advent of a plane over Palma which sprinkled the city in leaflets of communist propaganda. The city smiled contemptuously. The following day it returned, this time its propaganda was in the form of hand grenades. Contempt turned to fury! How dare they bomb a civilian population - even with hand grenades. A few of the less brave decided the air of Palma as a trifle warm; they would spend a few weeks in the cooler atmosphere of their country houses.
That night over the radio we listened to Radio-Barcelona proclaim to the waiting world that they had that day bombed Palma of Mallorca; the rebel city now lay in smoking ruins. Palma laughed scornfully; except those who had members of their family abroad who realized the agonizing heartaches such lies would cause.
Possibly our scorn reached Barcelona for the following day the bombing began in earnest. My husband and I were buying cigarettes for the soldiers when we first noticed the hum of the lanes. Before our packages could be paid for, there was a deafening boom and a crash. A moment later another. I fumbled with my purse while my husband dashed out into the street. The shop owner and her two children had disappeared below the counter. As I tried to count out the money, I was surprised to find that my hand were shaking. I was not conscious, however of fear but of a suffocating excitement, intense exhilaration. That same dreaded quivering excitement - near to nausea - one experienced a a bull-fight!
As we fell into our car a man dashed out, "Señor, go quick, quick, there are two of them. One big bomb has just fallen across the way. Go. Go." He disappeared and so did we; as fast as the car would take us. The roar of the planes sounded very near. I craned my neck and looked up from the side of the car; a huge flying monster seemed perversely to be following over us. After the first fifty yards we regained our composure and slowed down. Trying to out-distance a plane going over a hundred an hour was obviously absurd.
In their excitement, soldiers were rushing into the street firing their rifles. They popped from all sides; an erratic modern melody to the accompaniment of the low steady pup-pup-pup-pup-pup-pup of the machine guns. Pup-pup-pup-pup-pup they went again.
We stopped at the first post of soldiers and delivered our packages to the slightly astonished Sargeant. His face clearly expressed his views of people who chose such a time to deliver cigarettes; his words extended gracious thanks .All a prelude to the vital interest of the moment. "Yes, the swine are using real bombs today That last has done plenty of damage." He shook his head, "If only we had some anti-air!" With heads tilted back we watched the giant birds circling and white in the sunlight overhead. Boom! Then another - Boom! At any other time we would have been filled with admiration for their beauty. Now, their grace meant death! And was repaid with resentful hatred. A little below the against the blue of the sky, I could see puffs of whitish smoke from the bursting of shells of our answering guns. If only we could reach them! But they were flying high.
We moved on to the next post which was by the railway station. As we drew up a car with a red cross flag and soldiers on the running boards passed at full speed in the direction of the hospital; it held the first victims of the bombs. Later we heard there had been four killed and seven wounded.
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Manuel Goded Llopis: This Spanish Army General was one of the key figures in the July 1936 revolt against the democratically elected Second Spanish Republic. Having unsuccessfully led an attempted insurrection in Barcelona, he was captured and executed by the Republican government.
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Ensïmada: These sweet pastries have, over time, become representative of the island. They are a special Mallorca pastry made from wheat flour, sugar, eggs, and the ingredient that gives its name, lard, which in Catalan is called "saïm." They are served cold, best with hot chocolate, although on very hot days, I think I'd go for a nice cool drink along with one of these jewels of the island.
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I can't exactly figure out if Natacha was in a state of disconnect during this time or if she was being determinedly sarcastic. The very idea that a woman could control a natural birth of her baby is ridiculous and even a bit cruel to insinuate. Perhaps this is further evidence of the rumor that Natacha DID truly dislike children and even the very idea of childbirth? It certainly seems odd that she, as a woman, would even make these types of remarks.
I mean, I've heard many men state that a woman should just 'hold it in' when referring to a baby's birth, but they obviously do not know what they are talking about.However, I have heard of nurses (male & female) trying to delay a birth unitil a doctor arrived on the scene for fear of a lawsuit. That doesn't happen so much any longer. When a baby is ready to be born ... it is best to just let it happen. Paramedics can deliver babies and so can regular citizens.
See ya next blog post ...
Darkmum
THANK YOU FOR READING DARKMUM'S MUSINGS. I ALWAYS WELCOME NEW READERS!