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From: | Winifred Alford |
Subject: | [iiwusynth-devel] consistently |
Date: | Mon, 11 Sep 2006 23:21:43 +0300 |
I was on guard in the observatory at
thetime.
But so far as I could see, andfrom all I heard, the
fighting was defensive on both sides.
About a dozen men, mostly Germans, had volunteered
for the attack on the CafeMoka, if it came off.
Even a man as tall as I am cannot wear a long
Mauser down his trouser-legwithout discomfort. Presumably they had been ordered to
seize the cafe as a preliminary to attackingthe P.
I did not know how this affair was going to turn
out, and I badlywanted a weapon.
Nevertheless, it was a queer feeling sitting on
that roof.
Next day the Assault Guards were everywhere,
walking the streets likeconquerors. This shortage of food went on for several days
after the fighting wasover.
Nevertheless, it was a queer feeling sitting on
that roof.
It was broad daylight, nothinghad happened, the
Government had not declared war on the P. This shortage of food went on for several
days after the fighting wasover. It was noticeable, however, that thetrams did not
start running.
In any case the sound of gunfire isunmistakable if
one is used to it.
Surely I should be politically suspect, coming from
the P.
I remember the long, nightmarish evening that we
spent in fortifying thebuilding.
Only once, however, didtrouble look like starting.
As usual, only one side of the question hasbeen allowed to get to the wider
public.
There were generally about six of us up
there.
The Anarchist leaderswere broadcasting the same
message. This squalid brawl in a distant city is more important than mightappear at
first sight.
He asked the question everyone was asking:What the
devil is this all about? People were divided in their minds and wondering uneasily
howthe devil this was going to end. Yet their attitude was completely
indifferent.
With only twenty-one rifles in the building wecould
not afford to lose six of them. So far as one could gather from what peoplewere
saying at the time the C.
I was fired at several times from this building.
There were a few boxes of bombs,however, which one of the Anarchist patrol cars had
brought us.
There were raised stages in several of the rooms;
on oneof them was a desolate grand piano. Douglas Moyle, who had been a sailor, said
thatthey looked like British destroyers.
He motioned with his rifle towards the side-street
that ran past the bottomof our building.
It was noticeable that most of them had picked up a
girl after aday or two.
Another Englishman and myself decided to go back to
the HotelContinental.
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