THE ROAD TO SPAIN

The Spanish War is a chapter in American history that is yet to find its official and rightful place. In July of 1936 an Axis-inspired uprising burst forth under the nominal leadership of a clique of fascist generals. The target was the Republic of Spain, a republic which after five years of life began to raise the standards of its workers and peasants. The uprising would have been over and gone in a few days ; the republic asserted its power in most of the leading cities, but Spain had been chosen as part of a larger world plan of aggression. From Italy and Germany came a stream of munitions, men and the latest technique of war.

Anxious people knew the crucial character of this struggle. Men in all lands turned to Spain. From Yugoslavian hills, Prague plants, Cuban cigar factories, American schools and shops, French villages, from all the lands of the world, slave and free, the men of the International Brigades came to fight.

This struggle was a must one for us. We failed to see it. When a gun was worth a fort, we put an embargo on a bullet. Three thousand of America's men saw the urgent need to go. Ring Lardner's son was one, Professor Merriman was one, Dave Doran, young Communist was one, Milton Herndon, Negro, was one. In Mendy's letters you will meet them.

Mendy was one. There was no rest till this step was taken. This was the test for him. All his life led to this.

This was the moment and place in history where fascist aggression was to be spiked, Paris was to be saved, London was to be spared the bombs, Prague to stand as capital of the Czechoslovakian Republic, Warsaw never to be blasted, the Soviet Union to continue building in peace, United States never to know of Pearl Harbor, nor her sons to fight on many shores and seas.

From Spain he was going to come back to be a Party organizer, speaker, and writer.

We knew he was going to Spain. It was no hasty decision. He wanted to go in 1937, but there were tasks for anti-fascists in the United States too. The choice was made finally on December 9, 1937 (four years before that Pacific Sunday) when Wilfred attended a rally held in the old Hippodrome to aid the Spanish cause. Bill Lawrence, until a short while before Political Commissar of the Military Base at Albacete, Spain, and Earl Browder spoke. They paid tribute to the American volunteers already in Spain, spoke of the need for reinforcements.

For Mendy the die was cast.

A friend who came with him to that meeting remembers:

" ... Mendy came out very serious and said he was going. I insisted that he didn't really want to, that he was being carried away by Lawrence, but he said no, that Lawrence was just vocalizing all the things he had been thinking for a long time, and he could not be honest with himself if he did not go ... "

He had long discussions with friends. In strolls on the Coney Island boardwalk he put it thus to a close friend: "All I am doing is getting in a little earlier." Another writes that he met Mendy two weeks before he was leaving for Spain. "I remember the almost intimate way he greeted and talked to me. In his voice and eyes one could detect that he regretted leaving the sights and places where he was brought up; the people he knew and came to like during his years of activity. Only a deep realization of the horrible danger of Fascism to the people, could make him leave all this and depart for the battlefronts of Spain."

In the last months he busied himself constantly with the work of the Friends of the Abraham Lincoln Brigade, specifically the Brighton Beach branch called the Pinky Rodman branch after a twenty-year old YCLer who had fallen near Belchite the October before.

He prepared himself by soaking himself in an understanding of Spain. You will see a product of this in his essays at the end of the pamphlet. He revived his high school knowledge of Spanish and re-developed enough of a proficiency to read the Spanish press. His notebook lies alongside a copy of Mundo Obrero, CP paper of Spain ( January 5, 1938), a copy of the Volunteer For Liberty, paper of the International Brigade ( January 3, 1938) and Juventud, Catalan youth bulletin, published in English (August 27, 1937).

The situation in Spain had worsened sharply in the early months of 1938. In March by dint of overwhelming pressure of metal and war machine the fascists broke through to the Mediterranean and split Republican Spain in two. Franco, failing to overwhelm Madrid in 1936, turned to the equally vain task of cutting Madrid's life line through Valencia to the sea. This year of 1938 saw a new attack, a blasting drive at Valencia itself. This was the Spain Mendy came to.

He was not accepted right away. There was talk of only taking men with military experience. As Mendy put it "the only military experience I have is the battle I'm putting up to get across." There were other obstacles. For a while in the spring of 1938 no one could get to Spain. But the day came when with a whooping shout Mendy fondled his passport.

There were good-byes, a little party, a farewell to his parents, a last minute photograph taken at the studio at which he had a job—a stirring speech to his Party branch to redouble their work to build the democratic front among their neighbors. Then the journey was begun.

On May 18, 1938 he left on the United States Liner S.S. Manhattan. Of the trip abroad he wrote:

"As much as one may read travel stories one never takes them seriously because the very idea of travelling beyond and across the seas seems preposterous and if not entirely that, then at least a hell of a long ways off ... one is continually amazed and enthralled at the beauty of the sea's endless expanse ... I remained up all last night for the first sight of the Irish coast —And what a mighty cheer we set up when at long last it flashed out its joyous signal ... Right now we're sailing up the English coast, neat and green with white outstanding houses every once in a while. A whole flock of fishing boats seem to be out ... It's been a glorious trip. Met swell people on board. Got properly tanned. Been drinking beer like a major ... "

From Paris he sent a short postcard:

"Haven't even a chance to smell Paris. Off tomorrow. City is drizzly, food is cheap. And I am a big shot because I can talk to the taxi-driver, waiter, hotel keeper, read the signs, etc. Proving education pays. Baby, study languages. Entire bunch wonderful people—in good health. Dave is doing all right. Will catch up to Abby tomorrow. All are on lookout for the elusive thing—the beautiful Parisian girl. Next letter from far off ... "

Dave and Abby are two fellow Brightonites who left with Mendy.

Dave came back, Abby Barsky died fighting against the fascist camp.

The road down France led across the cold Pyrenees. On May 29, 1938 they had arrived on the soil of Republican Spain.

Candid (non)pose—exceptionally so—taken on S.S. Manhattan May 19, '38.
Notice the intense concentration on the subject in hand—an excellent booklet written by one Maurice Thorez.
The man next to me is reading the Plague Court Murders and seems equally absorbed.
The third chair occupant—the doll—came thru rather nice, don't you think?

Mendy's comments on the back of the snapshot