The volunteers were a mixture of Communists, Labour Party members, socialists, anarchists, trade unionists and other sympathisers, all bitterly opposed to the idea of fascism. They came primarily from the unemployed areas of Mersyside, Manchester, Scotland, Tyneside and London.On February the 18th the brigadiers launched a counter attack, but this was stopped by the fascists. Despite the poor conditons, the brigadiers managed to stand firm , As the men made their way up an outcrop that was later known as " Suicide Hill " they were mown down mercilessly by machine gun fire. They had little chance.Of the 500 brave men only 140 survived, the memory of this battle haunting them for many years later. But the vital road that Franco needed to have cut remained open.
Today I remember those who throughout this conflict their faith and ideals remained intact,with their bravery, sacrifice and committment to their noble cause. Comrades that stood together and fought for good against the evils of fascism.Ordinary people who made the extraordinary choice to leave their friends and family and fight in a brutal war far away from home, a common cause bringing them together, shoulder to shoulder with the workers and peasants of Spain fighting for their emancipation..
" It was in Spain that my generation learned that one can be right but can be beaten , that force can vanquish spirit, that there are times when courage is not its own recompense. It is this doubtless , which so many, the world over feel the Spanish drama as a personal tragedy" - Albert Camus
Battle of Jarama - John Lepper.
The sun warmed the valley
But no birds sang
The sky was rent with shrapnel
And metallic clang
Death stalked the olive trees
Picking his men
His leaden finger beckoned
Again and again
Dust rose from the roadside
A stifling cloud
Ambulances tore past
Klaxoning loud
Men torn by shell-shards lay
Still on the ground
The living sought shelter
Not to be found
Holding their hot rifles
Flushed with the fight
Sweat-streaked survivors
Willed for the night
With the coming of darkness
Deep in the wood
A fox howled to heaven
Smelling the blood.
Jarama Valley - Woody Guthrie