The Walking Dead

8 November 1936

This is the beginning. It is what I have come for.

Albacete is behind us. I have woken as if from a nightmare, and that was the barracks at Albacete.

It has been an incredible day and I have felt such pride at being here. I have little time to write because, free from the nightmare, I will need all the sleep tonight that it is possible to have. Tomorrow I — Daniel and Ralph with me — will fight and be tested.

We were brought in buses last night to Madrid — and with every mile further from Albacete our spirits rose, and there was much singing in many languages. Our turn came and Daniel led our bus in 'It's A Long Way To Tipperary', and by the third time round we had everyone, Poles, Germans and Italians, whistling with us and even trying the words. We had a few hours' sleep in a park, under clear skies.

This afternoon we were formed into squads — platoons and companies — and most of us were issued with rifles. They are old and French, from the Great War, and each man given one had ten rounds of ammunition. I do not understand why we did not have more military training at Albacete: instead our brains are bulging with political stuff from the commissars. I have a rifle and so does Ralph, but not Daniel. We were marched up a main road in Madrid, like Regent Street in London, that is called the Gran Via. It was incredible.

At first the pavements of the Gran Via were empty, except for long queues at bread shops, but as we marched up the middle of the road people emerged and waved to us, or clapped and cheered. I marched as best I could, with my rifle on my shoulder, and felt such pride, and my good friends were either side of me, and there were near to two thousand of us. We were a magnificent sight, and those citizens of Madrid recognized the gesture we had made in coming to help them. A woman shouted — I know it because Ralph translated for me: 'It is better to die on your, feet than live on your knees.' And many yelled what we had heard when we first came to Spain: 'They shall not pass.'

Later, when we came to the top of the Gran Via, we heard very clearly the noise of the artillery barrage falling on the forward positions, and none of the three of us sang any more. It was so close and so deafening. There, the roadside was at first deserted, but people must have heard the stamp of our marching boots, and they appeared from barricaded doorways and cheered us with such enthusiasm, as if we were their saviours and would drive back Los Moros, the Moorish troops of the Army of Africa…Of course we, of the XI^th International Brigade, will drive them back from the Caso di Campo.

As we reached the trenches, the second line, where we will spend the night, I asked Daniel how he would be able to fight if he did not have a rifle. He said, very calmly, 'Don't you be worrying about it, Cecil. I expect one of the brigadiers will drop one and I will pick it up.' At first I did not understand what he meant. Now I do. The shelling is continuous, but I am sure we will get used to it and will sleep.

I have seen wounded men carried back through our second line, and I try to look away. What I have seen is ghastly — it is better not to look at those men. Strange, but I feel more anxiety for Ralph and Daniel than for myself — enough of that!

Tomorrow we fight — I hope God will look after my brothers in arms, and me — and the day after tomorrow we are going to have a party! — Ralph and Daniel have promised it, because it will be my birthday.

Joker of the Pack