Red Sky at Sunrise: Cider with Rosie, As I Walked Out One Midsummer Morning, A Moment of War by Lee, Laurie New edition (1993)

Red Sky at Sunrise: Cider with Rosie, As I Walked Out One Midsummer Morning, A Moment of War by Lee, Laurie New edition (1993)

Language: English

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scale. After a supper of beans and mutton, served in a cloud of woodsmoke, I was invited out into the plaza to watch a midnight cine. Here, once again, the aqueduct came into use, with a cotton sheet strung from one of its pillars, on to which a pale beam of light, filtering from an opposite window, projected an ancient and jittery melodrama. Half the town, it seemed, had turned out for the show, carrying footstools and little chairs, while children swarmed on the rooftops and hung in clusters

anger, slogans, convictions, or even a just cause when they went to war. The village became aware that night, not for the first time in its history, that a people’s army could be defeated. The next morning they blew up the bridges on the coastal roads and so far as one could tell we were now cut off. In Almuiiecar it was a day of nervousness and shame which led to further outbreaks of mindless violence. As I walked down to the cafe to get news of Manolo, I saw that the casino had been sacked

to me in silence. It was one of those murderous, deep-bladed Albacete clasp-knives, for centuries a sinister speciality of this town. I prised the blade open from its sheath of horn, and the steel flushed red from the fire. Its glowing length was engraved in antique letters: No me saques sin razon no me entres sin honor… ‘Don’t open without reason or close without honour,’ said the Yank solemnly. 5 Tarazona de la Mancha At last they sorted out a bunch of the greenest among us and

winter – for most even the best in the war. Then, in the beginning of the new year, all news of victory ceased. In fact, there was suddenly no news at all. Our soldiers, first one or two, and then in companies, began silently to disappear from the town. One morning I woke to find that more than half my friends had gone. I never saw them again. 7 Radio Madrid Early in January I was ordered to go to Madrid, which rather surprised me as I’d been expecting to be sent elsewhere. The order

light. Was I dead, I wondered? Was I in heaven? Whatever it was I hated it. I had wakened too soon from a dream of crocodiles and I was not ready for this further outrage. Then I heard the girls’ steps on the stairs. ‘Our Marge!’ I shouted, ‘I can’t see nothing!’ And I began to give out my howl. A slap of bare feet slithered across the floor, and I heard sister Marjorie’s giggle. ‘Just look at him,’ she said. ‘Pop and fetch a flannel, Doth – ‘is eyes’ve got stuck down again.’ The cold edge of

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