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Fragment
of The hope. Of André Malraux. |
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Fragment
of The hope. Of André Malraux.
Chapter II
Exercise of the apocalypse.
He put on the sun.
The three taken farms and fortified insofar as possible,
sent to Toledo the militiamen that had attacked to overdraft
the first farm, again and given the instructions to the
officials, Jiménez, with a beautiful cross of English
taffeta to the left of its shaved skull, walked with Manuel
toward San Isidro, where they were organized the quarterings
of the column. The highway was color of flagstones gnawed
by the cobbles; until the horizon, anything that stone,
and the thorny bushes that grew here was not and there
they seemed to harmonize their pointed branches with the
salient of the yellow rocks.
Manuel thought of some sentences that Jiménez had
just told to the officials of the column. «In a
general way, the personal value of a boss is so much more
big when bigger it is its bad boss conscience. Remember
you that we have much more necessity of results than of
examples.» Manuel walked slowly for not being ahead
to the colonel that dragged his leg; the giving up was
also part of the false news.
—Have the new ones fought well, truth?-did Manuel
ask.
—Yes.
—The Fascists escaped without combatting.
Because of their semisordera, Jiménez liked to
speak while he/she walked and monologar.
—In Talavera, it is the dispersion, boy. They attack
with Italian tanks... The anger is something that is organized
that lives and that he/she dies that it is necessary to
maintain as the rifles... The individual anger is not
more than a good matter prevails for the anger of the
troops... there is not a man on twenty that is really
cowardly. Two on twenty are organically brave. It is necessary
to make a company eliminating to the first one, using
the best thing possible the other ones two and organizing
the seventeen remaining...
Manuel remembered an adventure that was part of the folklore
of the column: Jiménez, ascended in the hood of
its Ford, repeated to the militiamen of its regiment,
formed in lathe of its pot, its instructions against the
bombing of airplanes: an enemy squadron, recently arrival
of Italy, it had left that morning for Toledo. «The
airplane bomb explodes like a watering-can flower.»
The men put a terrible face; seven enemy bombardiers,
escorted by hunt airplanes, were to put on in line to
pass above the square. The colonel was deaf, but the brigade
heard the motors. «I remind them that in those cases,
the fear and the recklessness they are equally useless.
Anything of what is below a meter can be reached. To a
put to bed company, the bomb of an airplane can only hurt
those that are in the same place in that he/she falls.»
it is always this way, the listeners that squinted toward
the sky thought and they heard the deep vibration of the
motors increase of second in second. All the authority
of Jiménez was needed so that the militiamen didn't
throw face down. All knew how he/she had taken the hotel
Columbus. The noses rose ostensibly. Manuel, with the
thumb, without moving, it had shown the sky. «Body
to earth everybody!», Jiménez had screamed.
The officials put on body at once to earth. The first
enemy bombardier, seeing disappear the concentration of
their aim, it had thrown their bombs at random on the
town and the other ones had kept his for Toledo. There
was only a wounded. From then on, in the militiamen of
Jiménez the terror of the airplanes had disappeared.
«It misses it sews, the war: until for the most
brutal boss, to kill is a problem of economy: to spend
the more possible iron and explosive to spend the less
possible alive meat. We don't have a lot of iron...»
Manuel knew that, the regulation of the Spanish infantry
(inextricable) until Clausewitz and the French technical
magazines, he didn't cease of learning the war through
the grammarians: Jiménez was an alive language.
Behind the town they lit the first bonfires of the militiamen.
Jiménez looked at them with bitter affection:
—To discuss their weaknesses is totally useless.
From the moment in that people want to be beaten, all
crisis of the army is an address crisis. I have served
in Morocco: the Moors, when they arrive to the barracks,
do you believe that are magnificent? Of course, we will
be forced to make a republican discipline for all our
troops, or to stop to live. But, even now, you, my son
don't make a mistake: our deep crisis is a control crisis.
Our task is more difficult than that of our opponents,
that is everything...
«What their friends organize, the communist gentlemen-who
he/she had told me that he/she had to stroll friendly
with a Bolshevik!-, what their friends organize, that
5.º regiment, if it is not the Reichswehr, it is
however serious. But with what do you arm the they will
arm when it is a body of the army?
—The Mexican ship has arrived in Barcelona.
—Twenty thousand rifles... there are hardly airplanes...
there are hardly canyons... The machine guns... you have
seen, my son, is one for each three companies. In the
event of attack, they lend it to him. The fight is not
between Franco's Moors and our army-that no longer exists-:
it is between Franco and the organization of the new army.
They only have left militiamen, unfortunately, to be made
kill to win time. But this army, where will he/she find
their rifles, their canyons, their airplanes? We will
improvise an army more quickly than an industry.
Source: Malraux, André. The hope. Translation of
José Bianco. Mexico: Editorial Hermes/Sudamericana,
1979.
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