A militia man ran up. “A bomb has just struck the Preven-
torium.”

We all ran to the scene. The Preventorium was housed in a
large building. The roof was big enough for the attendants
to have made a huge sign on it—out of sheets joined together
—to form the letters: “CHILDREN’S PREVENTORIUM.”

As we neared the building we could see exactly where the
bomb had struck tearing up a large part of the roof, splintering
the tiles and the wood.

We knew that there were 150 innocent little patients in the
hospital——tiny sufferers from tuberculosis. We ran into the
building. All therchildren who were still alive were crying.
The terror in their eyes was almost unbearable. “Mama,
Mama,” they screamed. When they saw us, some of them
leaped into our arms, hiding their faces. We carried them out as
quickly as possible. Close by, bombs were still falling with
deadly accuracy on Guadarrama’s homes.

When we had finally carried our precious burdens, the 90
odd survivors out on the high road to safety, we looked back.
The whole city seemed in flames.

“SHOOT, COWARDS !”

As soon as the fascists enter a town they search the head-
quarters of all democratic organizations. All those found on
the premises are shot without trial. Man-hunts follow through
the homes of all members whose names are found on lists in
the offices.

When the fascists entered Melilla, a Socialist municipality,
on the coast, they spent three days in searching every home.
All the men were arrested on the spot. At three o’clock on the
afternoon of the fourth day a joyous sound reached the ears of
the population. The Loyalist navy had begun to bombard Melilla.
Despite threats and blows all the prisoners proudly raised their
fists and began to sing the International.

The Mayor, Antonio Diaz, was the first to be led out to ex-
ecution. They wanted to kill him with his face to the wall.
Just before the command to fire was given, he whirled around,

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