POSTSCRIPT

Mendy is gone.

These are days when many die in the anti-fascist war, for Mendy and the men of the International Brigades were the first, not the last. Now there are international armies.

Many things happened since July 1938 when Mendy died. The murderers of Spain—Chamberlain and his French co-traitors—put the brand of Munich on all Europe that October. Czechoslovakia was vivisected—but more than that, Spain, Collective Security and Peace were bled to death. In the year that followed the dikes were dissolved —the few that were left; 1939, a year that might have forged a United Nations policy against Hitlerism, was riddled with anti-Soviet snipery that attempted to fool the world into a war against the only Socialist state. Hitler was to lead, the world was to watch, support and then follow. There was the fateful summer of 1939 when British "negotiators" of little enthusiasm and less power met with the leaders of the U.S.S.R. But the truth became electric and sharp—not negotiation was the aim of the then existing ruling circles of England and France but the sharpening of Hitler's anti-Soviet sword. Only one path was left—the Soviets blunted the sword: she signed a non-aggression pact with Hitler. The traitors shouted treason.

Then the sword of Hitlerism turned on the blacksmiths, the men who had supplied the steel, tempered and forged it. There was a period after the collapse of Poland when there was not active carrying out of the Anglo-French-German war. The Soviet Union, fresh from her act of self-defense and liberation in Poland, was the target of a new and higher rising tide. There were dreamers of a knife at the heart of the U.S.S.R. through Finland's frontiers. They were all taught a loo-day lesson. The Mannerheim Line was wrapped around their neck. The men who were ready to send troops to Finland in an anti-Soviet war were frustrated.

Three months after the end of this phase, their impotence stood exposed—France was shackled, what was left of free Europe fell, England stood reeling from Dunkerque. Those fateful June 194o days saw Hitler poised at the Channel and England ripe for invasion. Such was the moment when Red Army troops solved the problem of Bessarabia. History and Hitler paused. The future had cast its shadow over Europe. No one invades an island when the shores behind him quake and a giant stands fresh and eager, and yes, able. Hitler knew who backed Ethiopia, helped Spain, told Czechoslovakia to expect assistance, strengthened China. There was no invasion of England.

Then the bombs that fell on Barcelona fell on London and Coventry, the lights that went out in Warsaw disappeared in Manchester, the dead of an air-raid in Amsterdam lay in the streets of Birmingham. England stood and began to regain, and, more, left behind her policy of capitulation. There were disasters in Greece, in Crete, in Africa. Europe was full of Hitlerism—the next place was the world. Only a blow at the U.S.S.R. would be the means for this.

June 22, 1941 it came. New metal poured into the furnace; a mighty upsurge occurred. Now the world knew—the war was for the world—the war was the war of the people for the existence of the nations everywhere.

It did not take long. When the lines of the Red Army retreated and Moscow stood in mortal peril, Pearl Harbor dropped out of the Hawaiian sky. Japan moved as part of the Axis plan. In a week we were all the way in; Mendy was right about getting in "a little earlier."

And now after the fourth memorial of Mendy's death we stand deep in the oil fields of the Caucasus, tied in the unsolved problem of India, fighting to dislodge Japanese Imperialism from the Pacific and most serious of all with mighty armies standing, only beginning in Africa to challenge Hitler's strategy of winning a one-front at a time war. This will change. It must, with the extension of the offensive to the continent of Europe. We owe it to the Mendys.

When the first proofs of this pamphlet were sent to Mendy's parents, his mother wrote us:

"Dear Friends:

"Received the first two installments. Started to answer and tell you how well written it was, but the tears blinded me, so had to put off writing for a while. In order to dispel my sad thoughts, I picked up the paper, and on the first page of Monday's Daily Worker my eyes caught the report of atrocities, namely the gassing to death of the Jews in Poland. Well, my eyes dried instantly and my sorrow changed into proud determination to avenge not only our beloved Mendy, but all the innocent victims of this madness, Fascism.

"Oh to arouse the people from the complacency, to make them see the danger to themselves. History repeats itself, but every time it gives us an opportunity to do something about it, but evertime this opportunity presents itself it exacts a bigger price. Four years ago we were clamoring for the 'lifting of the embargo' on Loyalist Spain, but we did not clamor loud enough to arouse the people to action.

"The reactionary forces in 1938 beclouded the issues, and confused the people into thinking such an act would lead us to war ...

"Now the same forces are holding up the opening of the Second Front and are again confusing the people ...

"If we fail to take advantage of the opportunity this time we'll pay a terrific penalty. How many more mothers to keep me company? ... ”

And here's where we stand now. The world after Mendy died named a Communist Party Training School after him, and a branch, and now friends are naming their babies after him.

In the world that is to be when metal is again used for cars and men will stand freer than ever before, there will be schools named after such, and best to know—libraries. Only the research student will know of the Frederick B. Robinsons, the Francisco Franco's, the Pierre Lavals and Hitlers.

You who know the men of Mendy's mold write about them; you in other communities write the tale of our men. If this booklet inspires you to that we are happy.

There were some who said in the early anguish of the news of Mendy's death that it was in vain. No one says so now. This is the way fighters live and die. This is the life of an American, and a Communist. There was no truer or happier path for him.

We are the flower of the seed of Wilfred Mendelson. On us is the future.