Spain, Hitler and Nuetrality

Hitler and Mussolini had helped Spain fight the Communists in the 1930's Spanish Civil War. But, as the Axis Powers could not convince Spain to join them, by 1940, the Spanish relied on US oil and grain to meet her needs. Also the British controlled Gibraltar and access to the Mediterranean. In effect, Spain, a Facist nation, was surrounded physically, and economically, by the Allied Powers.

While the Germans and Italians had supported Fascist Spain in the 1930's Civil War,  the US officially remained nuetral while allowing Americans to form the Lincoln Brigade to fight on the Communist side against Franco and the Axis Powers. This later came back to haunt the American volunteers in the McCarthy era, when they were considered to be Communist sympathizers.

Twice, between 1940 and 1944 Franco met with Hitler. In 1940 he formed the Blue Brigade to help Hitler, but that Brigade was only to be used to fight Russia on the Eastern Front, not against any other Allied nation. The Spanish could hardy refuse, because they owed the Germans $212 million from the Spanish Civil War, and simply didn't have the funds to pay it back.

The US then scaled back their support, guaranteeing only a 10 week supply as long as Franco was helping Hitler on the Eastern Front. When America and Britain won North Africa in 1942 Franco switched back to complete neutrality, and our full economic support returned.

In return, Franco agreed to keep a fortified border in the Pyrenees and Iberian Mountains to deter the Nazis from entering Spain, which was now bounded on all 4 sides, by the Atlantic to the West, the mountains to the East and Britain and the U.S. to the North and South at Gibraltar, the gateway to the Atantic as well as the entrance to the Mediterranean.

In 1944 when Franco was approached again by Hitler, the US  again imposed an embargo and cut aid. By that time the Axis powers could not provide Spain with the needed goods and so those talks went nowhere, forcing the Spanish to stay neutral.

Spain was not the only neutral country in the Second World War. The Chinese supplied Germany with tungsten for steel, and in turn, Germany provided China with money and arms to fight the Japanese, at the same time as the the US was conducting the  Flying Tiger ops against Japan. Essentially China profited from both sides. It was the only time that the US and Germany were on the same side during the War.

The Portuguese provided Hitler with the tungsten steel needed. They also provided tungsten to the Germans from their colony of Brazil in South America. The rest of South America followed Mexico against the Nazis after Germany sank 2 Mexican oil tankers. Brazil and Argentina were the only exceptions. After the war Argentina was the country to which the Nazis fled to avoid prosecution for War Crimes.

It was a diplomatic mess, which also kept Ireland from entering the war against Germany, even while sending workers to Britain to work in the war plants for much needed employment. Hatred of Britain due to the Bloody Sunday incidents before and between both WW1 and WW2 also played a major role in this decision by Ireland to take this stand.

The Swedish, who could not rely on Britain to protect them from Russia or Germany,  led to their nuetrality even as they provided Germany a safe haven for her finances. At the same time, they played this exact financial and humanitarian role for the US. and its Allies with the Geneva Convention. In addition, Germany, by now fighting Russia, provided the Swedish with protection from that end.

All of these factors make the 2nd World War a complex study. In literature and film, all of these facts are portayed in books such as Hemingway's "For Whom the Bells Toll", and films such as "Casablanca", and even the post war classic "Gilda." All of which first piqued my interest in the subject of nuetrality.

General Sherman said "War is Hell", but it sure creates some great literature.....

Baffled

At one time I possessed 4, or more, different, and current pieces of United States Government issued identification cards/documents. Foolishly, I used to carry them all with me, sometimes using one, or more, of the documents to bluff my way past security in order to gain entrance to places I should not have been, or obtain some extra assistance when necessary. I always found that, for the most part, the old adage “If you can’t dazzle them with brilliance, then baffle them with bullshit”, worked well for me. 

At the time of this story I was carrying a valid US Passport, which identified me as a tourist. I also had a black Dept. of Defense identification card, which identified me as a civilian crew member aboard an American military vessel.

In addition to that I always carried my pink Armed Forces Reserve Identification Card, which stated that I was on Inactive Duty with the United States Navy.

And, as if this wasn't quite enough, I also presented my United States Coast Guard "Z" Card, which made me a Merchant Marine serving as an Able Bodied Seaman.

I also had with me my newly issued United States Coast Guard Third Mate's License, a document which identified me as an Officer and allowed me to operate vessels of any size in any waters. To be blunt, I was a walking enigma.

Now no plan; however well-conceived; works indefinitely, there must come a time when something, or someone,  comes along to block your path. Both of these forces came to play one night in Rota, Spain; across the bay from Cadiz; when I tried to enter the Naval Base. 

Dressed; as I was; in civilian clothes, with long hair to boot, I did not look like I belonged on any military base anywhere. Accordingly, the guard, who only spoke Spanish, motioned for me to produce my Identification. So, I decided to just overwhelm him with all of these official documents. 

Well, I did, and it worked. As a matter of fact, he was so overwhelmed that I was immediately arrested on suspicion of espionage due to the conflicting nature of the documents I was carrying. It was hard for the authorities on duty at the time to grasp that I was a civilian, who was also in the United States Navy Reserve, working for the Department of Defense as a Merchant Marine; as both a Seaman and an Officer; while in possession of a passport that said I was a tourist who had not even bothered to have it validated when I entered their country; begging the question of how I got there and just who the hell I really was.

It was hours later; when the whole thing got sorted out; that I remember being back aboard ship in my stateroom thinking, "Man, I really showed them..."

Carlos and Franco, Hashish and Me.

One of the great advantages I have had in life is being in places when extraordinary changes were taking place. Beirut in 1981; Turkey in the late 1970’s during a coup, and then again in the early 1980’s when Democracy was restored; are 2 places and times which come readily to mind as examples. But until the news came over about Juan Carlos stepping down after almost 40 years as head of his country, I had forgotten about one of my favorite events. And that was in Spain the night that Juan Carlos decriminalized possession of hashish and marijuana. I suppose a bit of history is in order here.

Spain’s 1936 alliance with Hitler and Germany; which actually helped keep Spain neutral in the coming Second World War; set off the Spanish Civil War, which many people point to as the first real battle of the Second World War. It pitted Generalissimo Franco’s Nationalists (read as Fascists) against an International Brigade of volunteers (read as Communists) from countries as diverse as the Soviet Union and the United States. Ernest Hemingway even went there; a visit which would give rise to his novel “For Whom the Bell Tolls.” Franco won and became Spain’s dictator for the next 4 decades. In the late 1970’s he relinquished his power to Juan Carlos, who became King.

The rule of Juan Carlos was filled with all the usual troubles of running a kingdom; or any country for that matter. He had his own terrorists to contend with way before we did. They were separatists from the North, and were still active as recently as the Madrid train bombing early in this century. Economically Spain has had its ups and downs; just like the rest of the world. And now his son will be taking the helm of leadership in a mostly symbolic position; much as the Queen rules England. All indications are that he will be well received by about 70% of the population, and we wish him luck. End of history.

And now, the night Juan Carlos decriminalized hashish. If memory serves me correctly it was March 1^st, 1984. I was in Alicante, a port on the Cost de Sol to catch the USNS Sirius, a ship which had been home to me several times in the past few years. This was a small port by comparison to the ones we usually hit. I was also just fresh from stateside, having landed in Madrid that morning direct from New Jersey by way of Baltimore. I had just gotten my 3^rd Mates License, but was shipping as an Able Bodied Seaman instead of as Third Mate. There were no slots open at the time and my money was running low.

There was something festive in the air, like the sharpness you can almost feel before it snows. There were Federal troops, complete in 3 cornered hats, at every intersection. The sight of automatic weapons in the hands of someone with a 17^th century headpiece was incongruous, but the lethality of the modern weapons was not lost on me. So, I went to the nearest bar to get the lowdown on what was happening.

Walking in I was surprised to see so many people openly smoking hashish. Hashish was very common; after all there is only a 7 mile strait between Spain and Morocco at Gibraltar. But it was always on the quiet lest you be arrested. It was a bit unsettling to see everyone smoking with all the troops just outside. I started asking questions in my broken Spanish; and getting answers in broken English. So I was only getting small pieces of the story at a time.

Turns out that this was the night when hashish became decriminalized in Spain and I was lucky enough to be there. The troops were there for everyone’s protection, and also as a warning not to let things get too out of hand. The wine flowed, the hash burned and everyone had a great time. And that is what came to mind when I saw that Juan Carlos was stepping down this week. Now here’s the fun part. I am going to google this and see how accurate my memory is for date and event. Be right back.

Well, I couldn't find what I was looking for; namely a date; but here is the status of the law in Spain, where possession is a misdemeanor; sale is illegal; but growing it is not. This is from Wikipedia;

“Selling cannabis is a criminal offence punishable by law at any quantity. Buying anywhere, possession and consumption at a public place constitutes a misdemeanor and is penalized with a fine and confiscation. Growing the plant on private property for personal use, and consumption by adults in a private space is legal.[121]”

Here is the link to the whole article, which lists all the countries alphabetically;

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Legality_of_cannabis_by_country

And finally, thanks Juan, for a night I will always remember.

"A Matador's Mistress" with Adrian Brody and Penelope Cruz (2011)

I have been a fan of Adrian Brody since he first appeared in the film “Liberty Heights”, a coming of age drama set in 1950’s Baltimore. That film made me a fan for life. And of course, Penelope Cruz is always in fine form; both professionally and physically, so this film figured to be the type of good period piece which I would enjoy. Well, so much for blind hope.

Originally titled “Manolete”, this film tells the story of the legendary Spanish bullfighter and his love for Lupe Sino, a woman whose love was coveted by many men. She was an actress and also a Communist, which at the time was not a good thing in Spain. The Spanish dictator Franco had just kept his country out of the Second World War as the Communists and Fascists struggled for control. In addition to her own political views her first marriage was to a Communist party member, which only added fuel to the fire which surrounded the actress. That scandal had a definite effect on her lover, the legendary Manolete.

Manolete first rose to prominence at the end of the 19^th Century, quickly becoming known as the world’s greatest matador. He was especially known for his method of fighting the bull by standing in one spot while the bull charged him. His expertise at what is known as the “manoletina”, which is the name given to the art of using the bullfighter’s cape to lure the bull in for the final kill.

He died at the age of 30 in the town of Linares where he was about to kill his 5^th bull of the day. He was gored in the leg and died the next day. Franco ordered 3 days of mourning at the time of his passing. Only funeral music was permitted to be played on the radio. The event was somewhat akin to the reaction in America after the murder of President Kennedy in 1963. 

This movie had so much potential, but somehow; due mainly to the ethereal manner in which it is directed; never really gets off the ground. The storyline is intense; a world famous bullfighter involved with a siren like woman who fills his every thought, losing sight of his own mortality and then paying the ultimate price for his misguided love. It is also the story of a man who lived on the edge of death; defying it for a living; and how love may have played a role in his untimely demise.

This is a movie I may have to revisit. I have a feeling that I might have missed something while watching it. There can be no other explanation; with a story this good, it would be almost impossible to make a movie this tedious.

Running With the Bull(s)

This is one of those annual "traditions" that totally eludes me. I know that the "Running with/from the Bulls" is a tradition glorified in Hemingway's "The Sun Also Rises." But then again, I've never been much of a fan of the Hemingway mystique. Most of his books were re-written as movies and were far superior to the original works. Take "To Have and Have Not", with Bogart and Bacall. I rest my case. (William Faulkner did the screenplay.)

But my hat is off to these hardy souls who dare run with, or from, the bulls each year. They brighten my day with their antics. But deep down, secretly, I always root for the bull...