The Spanish Civil War

by Hugh Thomas

  The nationalists were surprised by the offensive of Brunete, perhaps because it had been discussed in the cafés of the republic for months. At the point which was to bear the brunt of the attack there were certain depleted elements of the 71st Division, mainly falangists, and about 1,000 Moroccans. After being exhorted, on the eve of the attack, by Prieto and La Pasionaria, the 11th Republican Division under Lister struck at dawn, on 6 July, after a heavy artillery and aerial attack. Within a few hours, they had advanced nearly ten miles and surrounded Brunete.

  Miaja’s equivalent, as nationalist commander in the centre, was Saliquet, but General Varela was made supreme field commander for the defence and counter-attack. Several divisions were transferred to the Brunete front and the Condor Legion and heavy artillery were dispatched from the north.1 So were Colonels Alonso Vega’s and Bautista Sánchez’s 4th and 5th Navarrese Brigades. The transfer of these reinforcements was carried out very quickly: a real triumph of planning. When they arrived, Brunete was in the hands of Lister. The garrison of the nearby village of Quijorna was still, with courage, resisting El Campesino. Villanueva de la Cañada, Villanueva del Pardillo, and Villafranca del Castillo also held out against the 15th Brigade, most of the defenders being young falangist volunteers from Seville. Though the first of these fell the next day to the British, the advance was slowed by confusion. Brigade upon brigade were sent through the small breach in the nationalist lines, and became mixed up with each other. The known communist background to the attack caused republican officers and non-communists to grumble about the direction of the battle. The chief of staff of the operation, Segismundo Casado, who had been critical of it, retired ill in the middle. Eighty tanks were unsuccessfully flung at Villafranca.2 By midnight on the first day of the attack, Varela reported to Franco that a front had been re-established. Twenty-four hours later, thirty-one battalions and nine batteries had arrived in reinforcement of the nationalist position. The battle, fought on the parched Castilian plain at the height of the summer, assumed a most bloody character.3 The battle against thirst, it has been described, and it is obvious that water was a preoccupation. Negrín had desired to hold a special cabinet meeting in Madrid to celebrate the victory: Azaña dissuaded him.4

  On 8 July, El Campesino, egged on by being told that his troops were the best in the republican army and that they must set an example to the rest, reached the last houses of Quijorna.1 That village fell the next day. Villanueva del Pardillo and Villafranca del Castillo fell in the early morning of 11 July. But Boadilla, constantly attacked, was held by Asensio. In the Condor Legion, Messerschmitt fighters (ME 109) appeared on the battle front here for the first time. Outnumbered by the Russians’ Chatos, they seemed, however, more effective. The Heinkel 111 bomber was also as successful as it had been in the north of Spain, particularly at night, though the Russian fighters were also here used at night, for the first time.

  25. The battle of Brunete, July 1937

  By 13 July, the offensive stage at Brunete was over. Henceforward, the republicans would be attempting to defend the positions which they had won. On 15 July, after further fierce fighting around Boadilla, orders were given for trenches to be dug. The republic had gained a pocket of land about eight miles deep by ten wide. Lister was two miles south of Brunete on the road to Navalcarnero. At the end of this battle, the gallant English Major Nathan of the gold-tipped baton was killed.1 The reason for the republican failure to continue their offensive when all was in their favour was much discussed. The responsibility lay with the lack of imagination and initiative shown in battle by junior and middle-rank officers. Republican training, under Russian inspiration, or that of elderly regular officers, was more old-fashioned than that afforded to the nationalists at their new academies under the aegis of the Germans. The nationalists’ provisional officers, alféreces provisionales, were often well-educated young men of the upper class, used to the country (and to shooting game). They were now, as on other occasions, more effective as soldiers than even clever working-class young men from the city, intellectuals or workers, not to speak of elderly regular officers, who had spent years in dull garrisons reading French books on drill. Not for the first time, victory went to those who could think of war as hunting carried on by other means. The republic were also short of non-commissioned officers. Given an army as conventionally organized as the republican one, good corporals and sergeants are as important as staff officers. They were not available. The strictness of discipline and the absence of political intrigues in the nationalist army also played a critical part.

  At a higher level, the nationalists can be faulted over Brunete, for Franco suspended his offensive in the north, in order to regain a ruined Castilian village of little strategic value. He sought to avoid the psychological damage of losing territory. That was Franco’s approach throughout the war: it was a political, rather than a military, reaction. At the same time, Miaja, in supreme command on the republican side, was, as expected, slow in his reactions.2

  On 18 July, divisions under Sáenz de Buruaga attacked on the left, under Asensio on the right, and under Barrón towards Brunete itself in the centre. On this day, the Condor Legion began to dominate the skies of Castile, and shot down twenty-one republican aircraft.1 Henceforth, the balance of air strength remained with the nationalists. The battle continued between 19 and 22 July, in awful heat under an implacable sun, with thirst a characteristic of both sides.2 On 24 July, Asensio and Sáenz de Buruaga broke the lines of the republic on the flanks. Barrón broke through in the centre to recapture Brunete, save its cemetery, where Lister maintained himself until the 25th. Varela wished to pursue the republicans to Madrid. But Franco restrained him, pointing to the prior need of concluding the war in the north.3 The republic retained Quijorna, Villanueva de la Cañada, and Villanueva del Pardillo, at a cost of 20,000 casualties and about 100 aircraft. The nationalists lost 23 aircraft, and 17,000 casualties.4

  The battle may be regarded as similar to that of Jarama, Guadalajara, or the Corunna road, in reverse. Both sides claimed a victory. The battle certainly delayed the attacks in the north. The republicans gained an area of about four miles deep along a front of ten miles. But they failed to attain their main objectives. In fact, the republican army lost so much valuable equipment, and so many veteran soldiers, that the battle of Brunete should be regarded as a defeat for them. It was also a setback to the communists who had sponsored it. The appearance of the Messerschmitts, along with the new Heinkel 111s and the new Savoia 79s, marked the end of republican air superiority, which had done so much to preserve Madrid: for these new fast monoplanes, with their stressed-skin construction, were more than a match for the Russians.5

  The losses of the International Brigades were particularly heavy at Brunete. The Lincoln and the Washington Battalions lost so many men that they had to be merged. Among the Americans who fell was Oliver Law, the black commander of the former Battalion. There was also insubordination among the Brigades. Captain Alocca, in command of the Brigades’ cavalry, deserted in the face of the enemy and drove to the French frontier. Returning later to Madrid, he was shot for cowardice. The British Battalion, which had been reduced to about eighty men, grumbled about returning to the battle. The 13th Brigade, mainly Poles, absolutely refused to return. Its commander, ‘Krieger’ (Vicenzo Bianco), sought to re-establish himself by brandishing his revolver. Pointing this weapon at one of the mutineers, he ordered obedience. The other refused. ‘Think well of what you are doing,’ returned the colonel. ‘I have.’ ‘For the last time!’ ‘No,’ answered the mutineer. The colonel shot him dead. The men became furious and ‘Krieger’ himself narrowly escaped death. The mutineers set off for Madrid and were only subdued after the arrival of some assault guards with tanks. The Brigade thereafter had to be thoroughly ‘re-educated’.1

  Military theorists were later at pains to point out the tactical significance of the battle of Brunete for the use of the tank. The Czech Captain Miksche, for example, who commanded a group of
batteries on the republican side, later reflected, in his theoretical study, Blitzkrieg, that the republican tanks were unsuccessful since they were used spread out in support of infantry, in accord with French theories; but Varela, on the advice of the German von Thoma, concentrated his tanks to find a tactical thrust-point (Schwerpunkt) and so gained the day. In fact, the republic always used all their armour dispersed, artillery and aircraft as well as tanks, and von Thoma’s experiments could only be on a small scale since he had so few vehicles to bring up infantry to support the tanks.2 Neither side conducted itself well in details: three hundred men of El Campesino’s column were surrounded and taken prisoner. They were all later found dead, with their legs cut off. El Campesino shortly captured a tabor of Moroccans. Four hundred of them were shot. The birth of a new Spain? Azaña asked himself on hearing the news. On the contrary the old Spain, with all its warts, was far preferable.1

  Two weeks later, the nationalists renewed their offensive in the north. The Army of the North was still led by Dávila. The Italians, under General Bastico, were grouped as the Littorio Division, the Black Flames, and the March 23rd Division led respectively by Generals Bergonzoli, Frusci and Francisci.2 The six experienced Navarrese brigades, under Solchaga, were commanded by Colonels García Valiño, Muñoz Grandes, Latorre, Abriat, Alonso Vega and Sánchez González respectively. (The two last had returned from the Brunete front.) Muñoz Grandes, who had been the first commander of the assault guards in 1931, had escaped from Madrid early in the year. An old friend of Franco’s in Morocco, as was Alonso Vega, this austere officer now began a successful military career. To these were added two brigades of Castilian volunteers, under General Ferrer, anxious to win back Castile’s only port, the splendid watering place of Santander. Another group were the Spaniards and Italians, the Black Arrows, some 8,000 men, led by Colonel Piazzoni. There were thus probably some 25,000 Italians engaged in the ensuing battle. The Army of the North comprised 90,000 in all. Before this campaign, Franco transferred his headquarters from Salamanca to Burgos, the Italian General Bastico at his side.3 Dávila had at his disposal some 70 aircraft of the Condor Legion, 80 Italian aircraft and 70 Spanish machines, together with a seaplane flotilla.

  The 14th and 15th Republican Army Corps were the nucleus of the defence of Santander. Generals Llano de la Encomienda and Martínez Cabrera had been sent back discredited to the central zone, and General Gámir was now the supreme republican commander, while his two army corps were led by Colonels Prada and García Vayas. This force was supported by some 50 batteries, 33 fighters and bombers, and 11 reconnaissance aircraft. The republican army numbered 80,000. The bare figures give an inaccurate idea of the disproportion of the forces. Except for 18 Russian fighters, Gámir’s aircraft were slow and old. The nationalists’ air support included the latest German models, which were being used to test their efficiency. The same was true of their artillery. Relations between Santander and Asturias were no better than they had been when the Basques had been fighting alongside in Guipúzcoa, though the remains of the old Basque army were present alongside the Santanderinos. They were in bad fettle and morale had not been improved by rumours, firmly based, that they might surrender to the Italians, in return for their lives.1

  The campaign began on 14 August. The battle lines lay across the Cantabrian range, whose highest points were in the hands of the republic. The field of war was thus, throughout the campaign, of rugged beauty. The republicans were overwhelmed by the aerial bombardment. On the first day of the attack, the front in the south was broken. The Navarrese brigades rolled up the foothills of the Cantabrians. Reinosa, with its armament factory, was captured on 16 August. Gámir and his Russian advisers disputed over whether or no Colonel García Vayas, chief of the 15th Army Corps, who had held Santander since the very beginning of the war, and was popular in the city, should be relieved by Colonel Galán, one of the famous group of communist brothers. Compromise was reached, but the front broke. Many were captured. Next, backed by their own weight of artillery, tanks, and aircraft, the Italian Black Arrows broke the front by the sea on 18 August. The March 23rd Division, in the centre, captured the critical pass of Escudo. Henceforward, there was no real front. The army of Santander retreated steadily. The Basques fought better for Santander than the Santanderinos had for Bilbao, but even they could not maintain their hold.2 In Santander itself, the factories and the port were closed, so that workers could be free to build fortifications. Once again, a Spanish city became filled with the cattle, the domestic animals, and the few personal belongings of peasants flying from the battle raging round their homes. Many Santanderinos (perhaps a majority) longed for Franco’s victory—theirs was a conservative city which had thrived because of its use as a resort by the Spanish aristocracy. The Basque émigré government, as it had now become, again occupied itself with evacuation. Many Basques refused to fight anymore and prepared for flight.

  26. The Santander campaign, August 1937

  On 22 August, a meeting was held of the military and political leaders. The soldiers, as usual, were more gloomy than the civilians.1 The Basque ‘President’ Aguirre took the chair. This time it was General Goriev, the Russian, who spoke little.2 From Valencia came orders to retreat to Asturias. But the next day, the Basque armed forces independently withdrew to the port of Santoña, twenty miles to the east. They had no desire to continue to fight so far away from their homeland. They had high hopes that the negotiations which Father Onaindía had conducted with the Italian government in Rome would permit their orderly and separate surrender. But those negotiations had virtually failed due to differences on the subject between Aguirre and the other Basque leaders. But by nightfall the government’s orders had become impossible to fulfil, since the road to Asturias had been cut. Santander itself became the scene of riots, caused by a rising of the Fifth Column. Thousands of Santanderinos leapt into any boats which they could find to try to reach France or Asturias, preferring to brave the Bay of Biscay in any craft than to risk capture. Many were drowned. Gámir, Aguirre and Leizaola were among those who escaped. The remainder of the army was captured; 60,000 prisoners were made—the largest single victory in the civil war.1 The deputy for Santander, Ramón Ruiz Rebollo, was one of the last to leave. He survived to give a harrowing description of 100,000 people on the quays the night before the rebels arrived.2 A selection of republican and Basque leaders, including mayors and members of parliament, were shot on the beach Barría on October 15.

  Two Basque officers went from Santoña to negotiate the Basque surrender with the Italian commander, Colonel Farina, commander of the Black Arrows, in whose hands the Basques rightly judged themselves safer than in those of Franco. An agreement was reached. The Basques would surrender, deliver their arms to the Italians, and maintain order in the areas which they still held. They had already freed the 2,500 prisoners in the gaol of Santoña. The Italians would guarantee the lives of all Basque fighters. The Basques then agreed to surrender without further conditions. They failed to secure more general assurances.3 In the event, many Basques refused to surrender and did their best to escape. A subsequent attempt by a Basque nationalist politician, Juan de Ajuriaguerra (who, unlike Aguirre, had been concerned with negotiations with Italy from the spring onwards), at further negotiations with General Roatta was subsequently disowned by the nationalist high command.1 Meantime, Dávila and his army entered Santander. The Italians entered Santoña and the Italian Colonel Fagosi took over the civil administration. The British vessels Bobie and Seven Seas Spray stood by in Santoña harbour ready to carry refugees to France. But no instructions came to begin any shipment. On 27 August the commander of the Bobie, a French captain named Georges Dupuy, and Costa e Silva, a Brazilian non-intervention observer on the Seven Seas Spray, received permission from the Italians to embark all those in possession of a Basque passport. The embarkation therefore began. But at ten in the morning, Italian soldiers surrounded the ships and the waiting Basques with machine-guns. Colonel Fagosi informed Du
puy and Silva that no one was to leave Santoña, foreign or Basque. All the Basques on board the two ships were ordered to disembark. The ships were then searched by five falangists. At dawn, the next day, 28 August, Dupuy saw those who had so briefly been his passengers being marched as prisoners along the road towards the prison of Dueso. Colonel Farina had been disowned by his chief of staff, Major Bartolomé Barba.2 The ships of hope then raised anchor, some refugees hiding in the machinery. Those left behind were treated simply as prisoners of the nationalists. Summary trials and executions followed. Ajuriaguerra was condemned to death but the sentence was commuted.

  Mussolini nevertheless telegraphed his congratulations to the Italian commanders. The text of that telegram and the names of its addresses were published in the Italian papers on 27 August. For the first time the Italian public could know the names of their commanders in Spain: Roatta, Bergonzoli, Teruzzi, Bastico: new heroes of the new Italy! Ciano instructed Bastico to secure ‘guns and flags captured from the Basques’. He recorded in his diary, ‘I envy the French their Invalides and the Germans their Military Museum. A flag taken from the enemy’, added this fellow-countryman of Leonardo, ‘is worth more than any picture.’ The next day he wrote: ‘This is the moment to terrorize the enemy. I have given orders for the aircraft to bomb Valencia.’1 Mussolini’s Spanish allies, however, were not so enthusiastic about the part played in these engagements by Italian troops: ‘Only an enemy without a command or cohesion, and in numbers insufficient to cover the fortifications constructed, could give way before an offensive as magisterially conceived … but as incompetently carried out as that of the legionaries.’ Thus Colonel Urbano, in a special report to the nationalist general staff.2

  The Germans in Spain were quarrelling among themselves. Sperrle, commander of the Condor Legion, and Faupel, the ambassador, hated each other. Sperrle even refused to see Faupel when he called to see him at San Sebastián. Sperrle also publicly criticized the monopoly held by HISMA, so encouraging the Spaniards to complain of it too. Franco even asked, through Sperrle, to have Faupel replaced, partly because of his intrigues with the Falange, chiefly because of his heavy-handed arrogance.3