 
Copyright © 2012 by Francisco Angulo ✍

Destino La Habana

DestinationHavana

Translated by:  
Teresa Rodríguez  
www.voxroxmedia.com  
teresa@voxroxmedia.com

All rights reserved.

This book may not be reproduced in whole or part, in any form or by any means, mechanical, including photocopying and recording or by any electronic information storage system now known or invented hereafter, without written consent from the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in articles and reviews.

This book was published by Francisco Angulo

LaFuente Edition

Francisco Angulo

Destino La Habana - DestinationHavana

✍ LaFuente ✍

© Francisco Angulo, 2011

© Destino La Habana - DestinationHavana, 2012

© LaFuente, 2012

Intellectual Property Registration Number: M-004926-11

All rights reserved

Destination Havana

Francisco Angulo Lafuente

Synopsis

This novel is based on the life of Alfonso Nuñez Balboa, former Iberia commander with more than 25,000 flight hours under his belt.

The nineteen thirties: Nuñez is a boy from a small town called Dos Barrios de Aragón. The flight of a plane captivates his heart. He could have never imagine that years later he would be wearing a pilot's uniform. Before reaching his destination in Havana, though, he will have to navigate through the many and capricious paths presented by life.

This is the story of a working class boy who ended up flying very high.
Foreword

On September 25, 2010 I was invited by Antonio J. Nevado and Ana Sevilla to one of the conferences that the Ecofa Movement usually organises for informational purposes. On this occasion Antonio Pasalodos presented a solar-electric vehicle and I then spoke about the Nautilus Diver Kit, a prototype that allows to dive independently without the need for bottles. The attendees loved both of the new proposals and after the conference, we all assembled and tested the Pasalodos' car around the streets of Soto de la Vega. It was then that I was approached by Alfonso Nuñez, whom I knew through our participation in the Ecofa project. His father, who accompanied him, congratulated me on the paper and started sharing some of his ideas. I immediately sensed that this was someone special, the kind of person who has lived many adventures, probably more incredible than manyof the fictional tales I usually tell in my novels. I asked for his profession and he replied that he had been a pilot.

\- What type of aircraft have you flown?

\- Well, to be honest, almost every one of them, from military aircrafts during the Second World War, to the famous Jumbo, Boeing 747.

I have been an aviation enthusiast since I can remember, and had spent years tossing with the idea of writing a novel about the topic but I had always felt intimidated by the complexity of the topic and neverprepared enough to tackle it.

Let's leave the subject of diving aside for a moment and let's start talking passionately about aeronautics. I told him that I was an ultralight airplanes' pilot and that I even had a Russian-made model manufactured by the MIG Company, in which I started performing acrobatics. He described how to land a 747 and gradually fed me small snippets of his experiences. Time flew and the hall had to close. I was forced to say goodbye and leave. But fate wanted us to meet at the hotel again. There, I took the opportunity to continue listening to some of his fabulous adventures. From that moment I knew I had to write a book, just didn't know where to start. I have always been a science fiction writer and this would be a biography or a historical novel. So, why not take advantage of my ability and mix fiction with reality?

I wasn't sure how to go about it, and most importantly, I had not yet spoken with Nuñez to see if he would be agreeable to share his life with me and the world.

That night in my room I started taking notes on paper napkins and I didn't go to beduntil I shaped the plot of my next novel. The next morning I heard the Nuñez family leaving the room next door. I could not miss that opportunity as I'd probably won't have another one like this in a lifetime. So I quickly dressed myself and went to the cafeteria. There I met him again and feeling very jittery and not knowing what to say, out of the blue, I told him about my idea of writing a novel based on his experiences.

\- I have given it some thought and, yousee, I write novels, well I thought I could write something about your life.

\- Why don't you come by my home one day and we talk about it over lunch?

\- Of course!

\- But make it soon, I'm too old and don't have time to waste!
6

1

Like any good story of sorts, best to start at the beginning.

My fatherwas a strong man with capable hands who tried to make a living as best as he could. He used to find temporary jobs unloading trucks but they didn't last long and had to travel from village to villagelooking for work to prevent constantly becoming unemployed. At that time my world was quite small, and while I occasionally accompanied him to nearby towns, in my mind I could not imagine that there was anything beyond Aragón.

Motorised transport was scarce and very often, the driving of trucks generally was left to the engineers in the factories. After spending a summer unloading iron beams and forging a solid friendship with Matías, the foundry's engineer, my fathermanaged to get a seat in the truck. That's how things were done back then. My father had seen Matías drive for thousands of hours, so he was ready to get behind the wheel. It was the first time he managed to work for more than three consecutive months. They were bad times. After the war, the country was ravaged by the crisis. Finally things started to go well, although my father was more concerned about these issues than I was. After all, I was just a child and my priorities were attending class, submitting my homework on time and hoping not to be bullied at recess. My teacher, tall and strong as an oak, had shaved the crown of his head because besides being a teacher, he was also a friar.

We were in the middle of math class one day when we heard a loud buzz nearing us at high speed. Don Roberto looked out the window and in the sky,he saw a small plane approaching in the distance.

\- Let'sall go out to see it! -he said opening the door to the patio.

The engines of the small airplane roared deafeningly but it nevertheless seemed to advance at a very slow speed. We all looked up to the skyprotecting our eyesight with the palm of the hand to prevent the sun from blindingus.

\- You see, boys? This is what maths are useful for. If you study a lot, someday you will become engineers or, who knows, maybe mechanics or pilots.

We all followed the flight turning our heads as sunflowers do in their fields. When I looked across the fence, I immediately saw a silhouette that looked familiar. What was my father doing at the gate of my school?

\- The class is over now boys, do not forget to bring your homework tomorrow written in good penmanship.

Something was wrong, I was sure of it. Generally, I walked with my neighbour Jorge to the door of my house but sometimes my mother came to collect me, especially when she had cooked a stew for dinner so that I would not get side-tracked and reached home when the food was already cold. It was not at all unusual for Jorge and I to get involved in some adventure and only realise we were due for lunch when our tummies roaredwith hunger.

\- How was the maths class? - asked my father forcing a smile.

\- What's happened?

\- Nothing, why should something have happened? I was on the way home and went by your school.

\- And how come you're not working?

\- You see, there has been an incident at the factory...

\- Don't tell me you're unemployed again.

\- Don't worry about it, tomorrow I'll go talk to the people working on the canal, I'm sure they need skilled workers there.

Matías was not a bad person but in this occasion he proved to be a coward. The night before he had drunk too much wine and in the morning he was barely able to stand. The hangover was taking its toll and as the body was deprived of all the alcohol he was shivering and shaking with spasms. The only possible way to get dressed and go to work on time was totake a couple of glasses of coffee liqueur and it was precisely this that made him not see the entrance to the store and crush the truck against the walls. Before losing his job at the factory and having the large sum of money that would cost to repair the door discounted from his salary, Matías felt it would be best if that morning my father was to drive.

The imperial canal of Aragón was used to transport heavy loads. Huge barges were loaded with beets and other seasonal products. The state of the roads was very poor. In fact, they didn't even deserve to be calledroads as these were mostly dirt roads in summer and mud rivers in winter. A truck would barely manage to climb the slopes, even without carrying a load.

Pascasio was a strong, sturdy man, almost as broad as he was tall. His office - if you could namea small stone house built on the banks of the canal like that- was chaotic. Pascasio had worked all his life caring for mules but now that the barge fleet had been deployed, the manager needed an experienced man he could trust to coordinate all operations. He could barely read and write because he had never attended school but that hardly mattered - he was able to trace all the boats' movements in his head, memorising the tons carried by each of the barges andtheir departure and arrival times. He knew everything there was to know about every one of the men who worked on the canal and he even knew each of the mules by its name. He felt that these animals needed special attention because they were the engine of these huge vessels.

It was seven o'clock and the black sky dotted with stars seemed unwilling to make way for the new day. In late October the trees dressed in orange and yellow colours, as if they were on fire. After that, their withered leaves would fall to the ground forming a patterned carpet. There was a small cast iron stove in the office, a real treat for Pascasio, accustomed all his life to withstand the inclement weather working outdoors. He didn't like to turn it on until early November after the All Saints Day had past but this morning it was colder than usual and he could not get his hands to warm up. Now his work was a lot more comfortable but hecouldn't shake the feeling off that the money he made was not entirely clean because he was not investing any physical effort in doing it. Just as he was about to throw a log on the stove, the door opened. He released the log frightened as if he'd been caught committing a crime and looked nervously at my father.

\- Good morning Pasca, what a horribly cold day! As if we were in the Artic itself!

\- Yes, it's cold and we are short of a week until All Saints –he said taking the piece of oak once again and tossing it into the stove. He then lit a match that fell to the bottom where some of last winter's coal awaited. The two men approached the heat placing their hands a foot away from the semi-incandescent metal.

\- How is work going? I've heard you are short of workers.

- There's still some work but the busiest part of the season is over ... It's getting cheaper and cheaper to transport goods on the railway, we'll soon have to find something else to do.

My father held his breath for a moment and thought he would have to return to their old ways, wandering from village to village in search of a job that would allow us to survive through the winter.

Pascasio knew the hardship we were enduring. The rumours about the truck accident had spread like wildfire but everyone who knew Matías imagined how the incident really happened. He had also heard what a good a worker my father was.

\- It's not a good time to hire new people -not just because it'slow season but becauseyou'd also have to learn the trade quickly before the bad weather falls upon us. Winter will come early this year and you must know how to face the wind, the mud and the rain – I don't want to have to get you out of the bottom of the canal.

\- Do not worry, I work hard and learn fast...

\- I know, so I'll make an exception.

Gradually things started to look better. My father had a steady work and I studied as much as I could. Winter came early and my father had to endure the cold weather. In December it was impossible to stand still without getting frostbite. My father used to pack a piece of bread, a piece of cheese and sometimes a chorizo sausage in his lunch box. Sitting down to eat outside was an absurdity, so that day hetook advantage of one of the corners of the barge where we was sheltered from the wind.

\- Juanito, you are in charge of the mules, it's my turn to eat. Make sure they don't get frightened.

\- Yes, yes, of course.

Juanito was over forty years of age but his mind was still that of a child at four. Rumours had it in the village that he was like that because their parents were first cousins, however others claimed that Juanito was born and grew up as a normal child but when he was about six years old he had very high fevers that almost killed him.

His job didn't involve much, in fact, the mules were very quiet, and theyonly sometimes got frightened when they heard the train go across the canal. My father used to sit on the cargo by using one of the billets of wood as a seat. He untied the small cloth bag and stretcheditto reveal a piece of hard cheese and a slice of stale bread. The greyish colour of the bread was caused by the mixture of rye and wheat. The crust was somewhat coarse and the bread itself tasted acidic but remained tender for several days. The cheese was made by the goatherd of the village although he generally used a bit of milk to make it so it would be whiter and smoother than an ordinary goat's cheese. My father rationed his food well and never cut a piece larger than calculated. Although most would be inclined to warm themselves up with something hot in winter, he had to eat and get back to work hurriedly. Anyway, my mother, who always thought about him, prepared hot food for dinner, often porridge with bacon, a consistent dish that warmed his stomach and gave him energy to face the new day. As he was cutting a piece of cheese with hissmall razor blade, something shook the boat. It seemed odd, since he had not heard anything and the railroad tracks were deserted. The barge swung sharply, this time towards the interior part of the canal due to the rebound effect of the bow crashing against the shore.

\- Juan secure the mules!

He staggered to his feet and saw the man trying to hold them, but the weight of the boat was such that itdragged all the animals into the canal.

\- Untie them or they'll drown! -beforehe could finish saying these words, he jumped into the water to try to release them.

The water was freezing. As he dove in he didn't even felt he was getting wet. The sharp pain was comparable to falling straight onto a hawthorn. His hands were frozen and were not obeying his instructions but applying a lot of effort he managed to untie the animals and they quicklyswam to the shore. He'd managed to save them. Fortunately, the canal was not very wide and the barge soon reached the other side where it got jammed.The whole incident was nothing more than a shock that made for a great story and a nasty cold. Poor Juanito wanted to be useful and thought he could steer the boat while my father was having his lunch. When the mules felt the beating on the barge theypulled hard but the rebound effect produced by the enormous weight dragged them into the water.

My father knew only too well the difficulties of putting a plate on the table, especially without having had any studies. He didn't want that life for me that's precisely why he didn't let me go to work with him, forcing me to stay in school. That was very unusual in those days when all boys between ten and twelve years of age wererapidly incorporated into the workforce. In my village only the incapacitated continued studying - if you had a limp or any form of disability, you'd better be a good student.

\- Go away, you are a nuisance! - my father used to shout because even though I was very helpful, he did not want me around.

The trouble was that as a rule of thumb, when you had no money the only actual way to study was to enter a seminary. And I wasn't keen to become a priestat all. But my father had other plans for me. He spoke with the teacher and solved the money issue. Everyone paid the teacher thirty pesetas a month -that was the established quantity - but in our village we barely handled money and relied on bartering. The teacher accepted wheat and eggs as payment from my father, and he was to sell them later in the nearest city. Both he and the doctor had a government salary, but it was so menial that they scarcely could live from it, so these type of exchangeswere not uncommon. Poverty was the most widespread of all diseases.

The teacher was even smarter and took advantage of the monastery cellars to grow mushrooms, and he did really well.

The town's history was peculiar. Located in the middle of a valley, in the old days it had been divided into two different areas - one inhabited by Moors and the other, - across from it -, by Christians. Over the years, the Moors had to convert to Christianity and as penance were forced to wear a cross. However, no matter how hard everyone tried to convert them to Christianity, the Muslims would not have it. They would not convert. So the king came up with the idea of building a convent in the middle of their side of town and over the years managed to change their religion. To the point that a priest born in that small town went on to became a Pope.

Two Barrios must have been one of the smallest towns in Aragón, and yet, but it wasn't without its own charm and advantages. All families were self-sufficient, we sowed a little bit of everything in our small orchards. I was in charge of our tiny piece of land. At eleven I was given permission to leave the class and run to give my father the food mum had prepared for him. Then, I used to spend the evenings making sure the birds did not eat any of our fruits and also keeping the goats and sheep at bay, otherwise, at the slightest distraction of the shepherd, they scudded in search of the greenestsprouts. In the small village we had our own blacksmith, miller, mason, carpenter and even electrician, because even though it was a small town, the hydropower station was not far away. We all had light in our homes but the power system wasrather peculiar. You see, there was only enough power to turn one light bulb at a time. And that's why we constantly moved the switches from one room to another. I was a restless boy. For me, everything in the world had a reason. It was clear that nothing was out of place. I loved to visit the blacksmith and the electrician and see how they worked. But my father did not want to lose time with those things, he preferred to send me to the orchard with a book to study while tending the crops. Sometimes I went fishing in the river, well, to catch fishes with my bare hands because in order to have a fishing rod and to be able to fish you had to have a licence. But how were we supposed to pay for a licence when we barely had enough to buy a rod?

Every yearfrom the 4th to the 8thof September the trade fair would beheld in Calatayud. It was one of the largest trade shows in the country, where - as the saying goes –everyone went to look but none to buy. It was clear that not a lot of people had money but regardless of that there were a lot of transactions taking place, many relying on the traditional barter system to exchangesheepfor cows or hams for cheeses. That particular year a large crowd visited the fair. It was the first time I saw that many people together. Many of the traders did not own anything and they simply took advantage of that place to put sellers and buyers in touch, acting as intermediaries and taking a percentage of the sales. I wondered watching everything that took place. In the food section there was an intense smell of sweet caramel as many of the stalls offered traditional sweets.

\- Do you want a pastry? -my father asked smiling. I nodded somewhat incredulous. I went to the stand and selected one of the biggest with a thin layer of sliced almonds on top.

Visiting the fair and walking around savouring my sweet was all the most pleasant. My father raised his head looking straight ahead, as if he had seen something interesting in the crowd.

\- But if it isnone other than Matías!Let's go, it's been a year since I last saw him. Matíaswas an old friend of my father's, he'd sometimes mentioned him when telling us stories about his days in the military service when he was made to participate in the war in Africa.

The man was just over ten metres away but moving through the crowd was complicated.

\- Matías! Snapped my father. The noise of the crowd quietened his words.

A group of nuns went by and we had to give them way. Seconds later Matías had disappeared into the crowd. My father looked everywhere for him and then suddenly, found himself facing a familiar face.

\- Nuñez! Hi there!

\- What are you doing here?- asked my father.

\- I brought my son to see the fair.

\- But he's too grown up for this already!

\- What about you, came to have a look too?

\- No, not really, I just left my son at the station. He's just enrolled in the aviation school in Malaga, and since I was here I decided to take a walk. And you Alfonso, why don't you sign up? – heasked me.

\- You have to be eighteen and I'm only fifteen...

\- Only fifteen? It's incredible how these boys grow up! If you continue this way you won't be able to fit through any doors! Well, why don't we do this - I'll tell my son to write to you and explain all the details about his life in Malaga, so that you can prepare better for the future.

At the time it seemed like a fantastic idea. If I studied hard I could soon enter the aviation school in Malaga. What I did not know at the time was that this school was for sub-officers and that fate would take me to the Academy of San Javier in Murcia, where I would graduateas pilot. Either chance or fate played up in such a way so that my father was not able to meet Matías who, that very day, had just sent his son to the school for pilots.

Every two or three weeks I received a letter from Rodrigo narrating his adventures in the academy. He did talk about some of the theory he was studying, but he mostly liked to explain all about his outings with friends and the beautiful girls he was meeting there.

My enrolment was fast approaching so to cover the expenses of my trip, I worked reforesting all that summer. It was hard work, we planted pines from sunrise to sunset and the salary was very low but we also learned a lot, especially from the Grandfather - that's the nickname given to the oldest of the crew members, and also the most expert in anything related to reforestation. He knew what kind of vegetation grew in every specific type of mountainside, whether it'd grow better in the shade or exposed to the sunshine, the sowing season, the best way for a year to take root and even how to tell the age of tree simply by looking at their size and appearance.

That same year, months before turning eighteen, I finally received notification that I was accepted as a student at the school of aviation. For a few days I kept it secret. My father was busy at the time and I used to help him whenever I could. One morning when I was working with him, he looked at me and said:

\- Go already! I have strength enough to do the job alone! - It seems that same morning he had met Rodrigo's father, and he informed him that my application had been approved.

2

I had ridden a train on occasions but this was by far the longest journey I had ever done. I spent many hours watching the passengers. Initially I felt a sense of freedom, I was alone, far from my home, my people and my family. The train stopped every few minutes. In fact, I think we spent more time stationary than running. In one of these stops, a rather strange young man climbed on board. His hair was black but the sparse beard drawn in his face was of a bright orange colour. His appearance was not the only strangething about him, he also acted inconsistently. He seemed to want to sit down but he kept walking down the narrow aisle of the car. One minute he'd leave the suitcase in a rush, the next minute he'd pick it up quickly and continue walking with it in hand. It was as if he couldn't make up his mind and did not know whether to get off the train or whether to continue the journey. He stopped next to me and I moved aside to make room for him. He tried to put the suitcase in the trunk that was over our heads. He lifted that old trunk which, seemed to weigh a lot, and after several attempts he realised it was too big, so he had to leave it on the floor again. Then he sat down and stared at me.

\- You won't happen to go to Malaga? To the flight school? - he blurted hastily looking quite nervous.

\- Yes, I have to be there by tomorrow morning.

\- Tough luck! The navy would have been a lot better.

\- Tough luck?-I said only to shut up immediately. I did not want to slip up but couldn't understand why he was complaining. I, for one, was looking forward going to Malaga. Actually, I had been dreaming about this day since I was fourteen or fifteen years old.

\- The aviation has no future, these planes are too flimsy, and a gust of wind can knock them down. The navy has good iron ships that sail around the world.

\- Why have you signed up for flight school then?

\- I wish I could have chosen, but there was nothing I could do. There were no places left and my father enrolled me here. I just hope I don't have to get into one of those old pots. I don't know, maybe they'll put us in one of them as soon as we arrive and we crash.

\- No, don't worry, I have a friend who is just finishing his studies there and he tells me that if you enrol in telecommunications you most likely won't need to fly.

\- But I've heard that all students are forced to fly on planes.

\- Well you're right: in two or three months they'll give us a ride in one of them, I'm sure your fear of flying will then disappear. Elías became silent for a moment, his face pale - it was clear that flying was not for him.

The landscapes we saw from the train were magnificent. You could literallyspend hours looking out the window without even noticing time going by. In late October the leaves of the trees start to yellow and the landscape becomes tainted with many different colours - red, orange, various shades of green and ochre, just like Van Gogh's paintings. I spent the day talking to my traveling companion. Later, for dinner, we shared the food we had brought - bread, cheese, chorizo and pumpkin sausage. As it got dark and started to rain heavily the windows of the train fogged up completely. To be able to see outside, we had to clean a circle on the windows with our own hands. Wecould then see the villages outside, although some of them had no lighting in the streets. After dinner, between my full stomach and the rattle of the train, I could not keep my eyes open. All passengers were dozing in our seats. I leaned my head on the glass of the window and slept peacefully but waking upbrieflywhen a passenger left the train. As time went by there were less of us on board - not many completed the entire journey and at that hour of the night no one came on the train either.

It dawned and the sky was clear. I watched the beautiful scenery for a few minutes. Elías was still fast asleep but the train stopped abruptly and he woke up immediately. Everyone got out of the cars. We waited. Shortly after the inspector's voice alerted us to the end of our trip. There was another train in the station, occupyingthe same track and we had to walk up to the platform. Up until now, I had felt comfortable. The long journey had made me forget the destination but now that we had arrived, I could feel my guts shrinking. I looked at my companion's face and I knew that my feelings were nothing compared to his. Poor Elías was pale and every now and then he quivered.

\- I think I cannot walk. My legs are shaking and I feellike I'm going to collapse – he said. And now, he was truly white, his face had become as pale as milk.

\- We still have some time. Let's stop here at the station's coffee shop. Come on, let me buy you a hot chocolate, you'll see how quickly it'll help you recover.

Stopping for breakfast was a brilliant idea. We recovered our strength and felt a lot more relaxed chatting to people. The truth is that, having received Rodrigo's letters for so long was really making things easier for me and without ever having been in the city I had the feeling I knew it well. I was also familiar with the headquarters and even knew the name of the officers, and more importantly, their personality and which one of them it was better keeping a distance from.

The military academy was built by the Italians during the civil war. It was kind of a fortified palace. After the conflict ended, it was taken over by the government who established a military school there.

Those were times of great poverty and hunger. It was common to find people begging in the streets of Malaga. In the barracks we ate mostly vegetables and potatoes and barely had any meat.

The dining room was huge and always seemed crowded. For me, the food they served was pretty good. Many complained and some did not even try it, surviving on sandwiches from the canteen and food sent by their mothers. It was forbidden to store food, but I know more than one who had a string of sausages hidden in their locker. The funny thing was that the wealthiest fellows were not the most scrupulous of all by far - in fact, some of the poorest gagged just looking at the gruel they were being served.

Every day we did a little exercise in the morning and then,the rest was occupied with learning theory. I was one of the most advanced students in the class, something I have my teacher Don Roberto's emphasis on mathematics to partly thank for.We studied Morse code, the basics of theelectronic components that formed the message transmission and reception equipment, the different types of antennas and especially how to use them. Being a radiogonometrist was a complex task but I was amazed to see how all practical mathematical theories directly applied here. Our job was to establish communications between the base and the planes on the air. In those days there were nothing like the GPS devices of today but simpler ones such as radio beacons. We were responsible for transmittingthe commander piloting an aircraft theirposition so that they knew exactly where they were at all times. Generally, a loop antenna was used - this was a simple device which, depending on its orientation, would tell us the direction of the plane. It was used both on land and on the planes themselves. The two sides of the box received radio signals and manually,turning it gently,it indicated its orientation. It was actually very simple –it follows the same principle as human's two ears. You see, we have the ability to determine the position of a person by hearing them speak even when our eyes are closed and that's why if a person is located to our right we'll hear them better from our right. So the antenna functions in pretty much the same way. Then, the radio operator who managed the antenna from the ground, would determine the direction in which the aircraft was flying and transmitted it to the pilots by telegraphy – we've gone from transmitting it via cable to using radio signals but still could not use voice. I couldn't stop imagining myself forming part of the crew, playing withall the gadgets inside one of those huge bombers, but for now I had to settle with our ground exercises. After three months in the academy we had not yet gone on a plane. The closest I had seen them was a few hundred metres from the other side of the fence of the airfield. When I had some free time I liked going there in the evenings but I generally had to go on my own because Elías did not like it at all.

On that morning they got us up earlier than usual and while most of the other young men were scared, I could barely hide the happiness on my face. I suspected the day had finally arrived - we were going to fly a plane. Some of them began to feel unwell, especially Elías, though in his case he had a reason because - as he himself used to say, he was there by mistake. But all the others, I couldn't understand why. They enrolled in the aviation academy out of their own will and then, they were afraid to fly? I was happy and excited listening to the words of our sergeant:

\- Today you are going to fly in one of our best aircrafts- the Junkers Ju 52. We woke you up early to stop you from having breakfast, I don't want anyone staining my planes, you bunch of faggots!

We marched in formation towards the end of the runway, where the three-engine was sputtering and spitting fire through the exhaust pipes. The sky was slowly turning bluish but the sun had not yet made their appearance and there was barely any light. We were formed in line and started to board the plane. Elías walked ahead of me and I heard him mumble a few words:

\- I can't, I'm dizzy, I need air.

There wasn't much I could. If I opened my mouth in front of the officers, I was sure to be arrested. But when his turn to climb on board arrived, the Sergeant extended his arm and preventedhim from proceeding.

\- Back everyone, move back, this one is already full and it's about to take off.

The powerful engines of the plane started accelerating producing a deafening noise. The wind of the propellers tossed us about. It began to move slowly on the runway and immediately picked up speed and rose up into the air. Its dark silhouette could be perfectly appreciatedin the blue greyish sky. Before realizing, another Junkers took its place.

\- Come on, come on! Inside!- yelled the Sergeant.

\- No, I can't, - refused Elías.

\- Get up for fuck's sake! – screamed the officer while grabbing his arm and chucking him inside the machine.

I climbed after him. I was thrilled to be on board a plane for the very first time. I remembered the day when Don Roberto took us to see the airplane that was flying over the school.

The interior was austere withfoldable seats made of canvas and tubes bolted to the fuselage. As the engines accelerated the entire contraption sounded like a can of coins juddering constantly. The rectangular windows allowed us a broad view of the exterior. The machine rolled to the end of the runway and the pilot applied full throttle. The sturdy airplane was manufactured with metal in its entirety. It felt as thoughit was going to dismantle, as if the screws and rivets had loosened over time. Just as the Ju 52was rushing totake off, my partner pulled the paper bag from his pocket and began to vomit.

\- We're going to die, this piece of iron cannot take off – he said while gagging.

\- We've already taken off! Look out the window, look how small the houses are. Elías turned around to look out the window and suddenly he started retching again.

Although Elíasfelt the flight was never-ending, for me it was very short. The clean, fresh morning air did not present any turbulence and the aircraft was stable, like a boat floating on the calm waters of a lake. The bright yellow sun rays coming through the windows colouredthe interior of the fuselage. At cruising speed the metal panels of the plane's lining produced a low whistle when channelling the air whooshing through it. The pilot faced the plane to the runway and descended smoothly. I was surprised by the smoothness and gentleness with which he landed that pile of corrugated sheet metal. The sergeant ordered us down quickly and to form abroad. I remember that feeling of weightlessness, as if I was floating throughout the entire day.

Days and months went past without any incidents, we studied a lot and hardly went out, mostof my classmates attended the Sunday dance regularly. Ramón's father was the orchestra's conductor and he forced us to dance, it didn't matter whom you danced with as long as you danced. It was obvious he wanted to match us with any girl. Perhaps he forecast difficult times for the church and thought we needed to find partners and get married as soon as possible and if possible, start having children before it all went pear shaped. He was a very strong man. I don't know how he but if you missed Mass on Sunday he was sure to notice your absence. His mind was a calculator of sorts that memorised the names of those who had been absent only to give you a lecture the minute he saw you. But beyond his harsh appearance, he was a good and loving man. He also knew exactly what our weaknesses were and always invited those of us who had less money to soda or wine. He also helped those who got themselves in trouble, often talking to the girl's family so that the father wouldn't smash his head and accepted him as a son-in-law in the end.

Reveille rang and we all went to form. We used to spend quite a lot of time forming on Mondays because there was always a surprise or another – either because one had put on the uniform hastily and was wearing it incorrectly or because another was still hangover from Sunday. When this happened, apart from getting locked up for a few days, the young man had to put up with the sermons of the commander. They called our names one by one and we had to answer with a "Yes, Sir!" immediately.

\- Elías Santos - screamed the sergeant. No one answered.

He repeated his name up to three times and nothing. I began to tremble - I knew he had gone to see his girlfriend that weekend, something I advised him against because I knew if the train was to run late, he would be in big trouble.

\- Sergeant, contact the Santos family, his father, his grandmother, his uncles or the woman that brought that idiot to this world but I want to see him here right away– roared the commander as his face increasingly turned red.

I could already see him before a war council. He had every chance of ending up in prison - thatis,if the fuming commander did not kill him first. A few minutes later, while we were still standing listening to the superior, I saw someone from the corner of the eye. It was Elías accompanied by Don Ramón. The two went directly to talk to the commander and he ask us all to leave so that he could deal with the matter in private. The priest explained that Elías had to stay behind to help him and for that reason he had not arrived in time to training. I knew that everything was a lie but the commander did not doubt the word of the priest.

\- Yeah, I know it's a good boy and he always lends a hand whenever he can, but he should have notified me. Anyway, now that I know he's been with you, there's no problem.

That was Father Ramon. Of course, Elías had to return him the favour by helping in the liturgical services and in preparing the ballroom for Sundays, but that was nothing compared to the punishment he would have received had Don Ramón failed to intervene.

Elíasfelt in love with young Pilar the very first time he saw her - love at first sight, they call it although I had never believed in it. The girl worked in his father's cinema theatre. That's where Elías saw his first sound movies, but that didn't matter to him. What really mattered was spending as much time as possible with Pilar. His parents ran a butcher shop with his uncle - his mother's brother. He helped occasionally at the shop and wheneverthere was an opportunity, hewould grab some of the money from the tilt to take Pilar out. Things seemed to go well until a heated argument sparked at home. His parents were yelling at each other accusing one another of stealing money from the business. It got so bad that they were talking about getting a divorce. Elías had no choice but to tell the truth. He apologised to his mother on his knees and she began to cry inconsolably. Elías felt so bad that he contemplated ending his own life. He grabbed a kitchen knife and left the house hurriedly for the stone well in the town's vicinity. He thought about throwing himself into the well but could not muster the courage. Then he figured that if he stood with his backon the edge of the well and then placed the sharp blade inhis stomach, instinctively he'll lean back upon feeling the piercing of the knife and would fall to the bottom of the well. He gave himself a painful sting but did not budge an inch, holding firm on the edge of the well. The pain was so intense that he didn't think about trying it again. He returned home and promised to return the money which, he did and paid a heavy penance. To replenish his depleted income and to save some money to enter the Academy inMalaga, he worked in the iron mines and returned home carrying ninety kilos of firewood he collected every single day on his back.

I had not been out for several Sundays. My financial situation wasn't too good and my parents could not provide any help.

\- But, why are you not getting ready to go out?

\- I'm going to stay studying.

\- What? No way! Are you insane? So much studying is melting your brain!

\- Don't worry about it, I'd rather stay here, - I said to Elías, though it was not true.

\- What is the matter? Do you need anything? Then he saw that the door of my locker was ajar, took a quick look and left. Soon he returned with two of his suits and lay them down on the bed.

\- I'm telling you, don't insist.

\- What is it you need? Clothes? Choose the suit you like most. Do you need money? Take it – he said as he emptied the contents of his wallet over the suits.

\- I cannot accept.

\- Don't worry, there'll be better times. Things are ok for me now but who knows? The tide can change any time, especially now that Pilar insists on gettingmarried...

I had no choice and both of us went out that Sunday. The events that happened afterwards, I could have never imagined them.

I never liked spending money in bars, I preferred to walk around the city, watch a play or a movie outdoors on a summer theatre. But this time I made an exception and had a drink at a cafe. This place was managed by a married couple and their young daughter who helped them occasionally. I felt something inexplicable when I saw such a beautiful girl, something I had never felt before – something not unlike real butterflies fluttering in my stomach. Her gaze enraptured me, I remained hypnotised. Now for the first time I understood the meaning of the word "crush". It was love at first sight, something that went against all logic. But I bitterly woke up to reality when I realised that the girl had many suitors. More than one client simply came to the cafe just to see her.

\- I think it was not a good idea to bring you to this place – said Elías in seeing me that lethargic.

The days passed but I could not erase the girl from my mind - those beautiful eyes and angelic face haunted me day and night. But what could I do?I was just one of many, and certainly could not show up at the bar to try to see her again. The force of reason prevailed once more - I had to forget her and concentrate on my study. I was there to work, not to fool around with girls. Since childhood I had learned a very valuable lesson - if you want to become someone you have to master your surroundings. As a child I applied that rule first at home, then my village where I knew every street, every house and every person, and wherever I went I did exactly the same – I worked hard to get to know every nook, every cranny, every person, not just their names. It was important for me to know who they were, what they did and where they came from, if they were married or if they had a girlfriend or, if they had children, and so on...

I disliked life in the barracks every time more, especially after becoming ill. The day I came back from having that walk with Elías, the same day I met the lovely Conchita, some idiot had stolenthe blanket from my bed. That night it was freezing cold and the only thing I found was a dirty, wet and smelly blanket. At that time I could not think anything else than to cover myself with it so as not to freeze, but as a result I suffered an infection that led to a painful illness. Doctors did not know what it was or how to cure it. A few cysts appeared in my neck and I even had swollen testicles. I had to lie face down because the cysts in the neck ruptured and bled profusely. I also had to have a small board in the groin area to prevent my swollen testicles from pressing against the bed. I had a really hard time. I was transferred to a military hospital where I spent several months. There, I applied my principle once again – I started discovering every corner of the hospital, and getting to know each patient and each practitioner. Finally, I became good friends with a doctor who, in seeing no improvement, decided to try a new medicine on me, a cocktail of drugs and penicillin; after a few days of treatment I was completely recovered.

In those days, technology was scarce. My post was in the countryside, fifteen kilometres from the barracks and my job was to wait for planes to contact me asking for their position. I didn't use to receive too many messages and I was often tempted to leave the small house and relax outside sunbathing. The army was tough in those years and they didn't beat around the bush - if you were caught committing an infraction you went straightto the military prison. The nights were extremely long, if at least we would have some coffee, but there was nothing and I had to last the entire shift until the next guy turned up at daybreak. To make matters worse, I had to put up with most night shifts because the other hotshot had some sort of connection and was always given mornings. Not only that, it was stipulated in the regulations that for journeys of more than five kilometres, we should be provided with motorised transport. The smartass of Ramirez had his own motorcycle, a Sanglas 347.75 cc. and 14.4 horsepower, a practically new beauty. I, on the other hand, was given a rusty old bicycle I couldn't even climb any hills with, especially when it was raining or windy. I used to tell the commander that I didn't know how to ride and needed someone to drive me there because I if made it late as a result of an unforeseen breakdown or an emergency, it could lead to a very serious incident. But it all went to deaf ears. So I had to think of all sorts of ways to get to my post on time. I always returned to the base on foot, with the bicycle shattered because I used to get so mad at the situation that I purposely crushed the bike against the old stone walls as I went down the slopes. One day, when I reached the base, the commander was waiting for me.

\- Why is it that your means of transport is alwaysdamaged when you arrive here?

\- At your command, I already told you I barely knew how to ride a bike. Every day that I go down those hills, my life is in danger. I have spent almost a year in that remote post and not once have you provided me with a motorised vehicle to fetch.

\- The army is not for gentlemen, Nuñez, these are difficult times and we must be austere.

I bit my tongue before saying something outrageous, but I felt my face redden with anger. The commander used one of the few available Jeepsin the base as his own private car, he didn't even let anyone else drive him. Then, of course, there was Ramirez - his motorcycle was a gift from the army and he even took it for rides outside the base.

In late February, after enduring many cold days, we finally hadclear skies. It was almost impossible not to leave my small post and sit in the sun. Gradually, spring made its appearance. Large flocks of birds began flying north. The bees started to flit from flower to flower and I watched it all sitting on the wooden steps beside the door, with my old bicycle leaning against the wall and no one else to keep me company. Every day I increased my distance from the station but I was worried not to listen to the messages someone might send in an emergency. So I contrived a system that issued a signal so I could hear it while I was admiring butterflies outside. Sometimes the days felt endless and I felt like a hermit - there I was, alone in the middle of nowhere, tied to a station that hardly ever worked. Sometimes I felt like walking away and not stopping until reaching Dos Barrios.

3

One evening after returning with the old bike nearly shatteredas always, they called us all and gathered us in the theory classroom.

\- Alright, by now, you have all been properly trained to become radiogonometrists. Now, we need volunteers to becomeradio navigators– said the commander as he stroked his moustache and looked at us.

A few colleagues and I quicklyraised our hands - Elías was certainly not one of them.

\- Very well. Tomorrow morning after breakfast proceed to the office in the airfield.

That morning the dining room was crowded. The breakfast they served on Friday was great and no one wanted to miss it. They gave us a metal bowl with hot chocolate and a basket of freshly baked churros. To be honest, the army food was not thatbad, especially since the commander started overseeing it. In fact, serving churroson Friday had been his idea. Most mornings the dining room was half-desertedas almost everyone preferred to use the breakfast time to leisurely dress up and shave rather than to get ready in a hurry. It was not long before word spread out that they served a special breakfast on Fridays and soon there was not a single spot left in the canteen. Besides de chocolate that came with the churros, they served a basketof bread rolls and a tray of cold cuts. Normally, no one was that hungry in the morning, although there was the occasional rapacious wolverine whogobbled up the churros and the sandwiches that followed as if there was no tomorrow. Most of us hid the sandwiches clandestinely in our pockets. It was one of those really silly, contradictory things we used to do. We were not allowed to take food out of the dining room, and yet every morning hundreds of sandwiches mysteriously disappeared from the breakfast tables. But even more absurd was the fact that we would then stand in line in front of the officers with our pockets bursting with bread and chorizo sausages and they pretended not to see any of it. Many of the rulesimposed on us were like that – you just don't know whether the persons who came up with them up had no idea what went on inside the barracks or whether simply they did it to find perfect excuses to arrest someone. The truth is that this morning I was not hungry, and I struggled to even finish my chocolate. I felt like I had a stomach full of stones, a very strange feeling. The thing is, back in those days I did not know what it felt like to be nervous so I didn't really realised that it was my subconscious getting anxious about going to the airfield later on.

We entered the small single-level square building made of bare bricks. There were acouple of tiny windows facing the runway. It was from there that all air traffic control operations took place. Today's typical fully glazed control tower with three hundred and sixty degree view, had yet to be invented. All air operations were supervised from this ridiculous site – from here, instructionswere given to all aircrafts taking off and landing. They also provided details of the location of any plane flying over the area. Radio operators were the pilots' eyes and ears. In the plane's cabin the most accurate instrument indicating thepilot his direction was a spherical compass floating in water. They truly performed incredible feats at night or in low visibility days.

\- Nuñez!

\- Yes, sir!

\- Report to the Group 14, immediately.

\- Yes, sir! Where is Group 14?

\- Find it yourself. Get out of here, now! - groaned the commanding officer.

I kept wandering from one place to another and approached all staff near the runway to ask where Group 14 was. A young soldier told me to look in the canteen \- for a moment I was tempted to head that way but aware of the type of jokes they played on rookies, I preferred to ask someone with a more commanding appearance. I noticed a mechanic working on one of the planes on the side of the huge concrete runway.

\- Sir, yes Sir. Do you know where I can find Group 14?

The man stuck his head from inside the nacelle covering the engine and with a smile blackened by grease, pointed to the tail of the plane.

\- This is Group 11, 14 must be a little farther.

Good thing I didn't trust that smartass who had sent me to the canteen to find Group 14. It was now clear that the group referred to the numbers written in graffiti on a plane, and not a group of people as I had assumed from the beginning.

I walked through the huge planes up to number 14. This was not a Junkers Ju like the one we had flown on before. This was much nicer, a lot sleeker and aerodynamic. It was a beautiful machine that felt very fast even stationary on the ground. The old ju 52looked as though it had been roughly shaped using a hammer and coated with the same corrugated plate used to roof the hangers. The Heinkel He 111, on the other hand,boasted very smooth lines and the whole surface was well polished. A sudden explosion startled me only to realisethat it was the engines of the plane that had started functioning.

\- Hey! Are you the radio? – the co-pilot shouted from the aircraft's cabin.

\- Yes, yes, I am.

\- Then, climb on board quickly or we'll leave you on the ground.

Shivers! What sort of a mess had I gotten myself into?! And most importantly - what kind of freaks have I gotten myself involved with? The crew in Group 14 was some of the strangest people I had never come across before.

I hoped on board and the engines accelerated immediately, putting the plane in motion. I saw the ground whizzing past beneath my feet as Iwas desperately trying to raise the ladder. I finally found thelever that served the purpose. Then, I managed to stand up with great difficulty, staggering from side to side, and tried to get to the cabin but suddenly I was facing a very steep incline. The plane was taking off and I inevitably crept towards the tail. I held onto the fuselage as I could and as soon as it stabilised, I ran quickly toward the nose. I entered the cabin hastily.

\- I am García and he is Martín. How did you find the take-off? Said the commander, releasing the controls of the plane to greet me. The co-pilot did the same and for a while, no one was overseeing the machine. The right wing started to slowly move downwards until the plane lost lift and began to fall immediately.

\- For god's sake, take the controls before you kill us all! – but the commander barely flinched.

After the brief presentation, I asked where my post was and Martin walked me to it. I thought I would at least be allocated a chair and a small table to manage the radio. Nothing could had been further from the truth: my so-called workplace was in front of the entry door. The steps used to climb on board, once rolled up functioned as a seat and so, I had to find a way to make the most of that tiny space. The first flight was uneventful, except for the tribulations I already mentioned but nothing of importance compared to what I was about to experience. I could barely move in my tiny nook because if I touched the handle of the leaverby accident, chances were I would be ejected from the plane as if Iwere a projectile. The radio barely had any reach - the entire fuselage, from nose to tail formedan antenna but it was still insufficient. When the reception was too poor, we released the folding antenna - a very simple device, similar to a fishing rod. We had to release a cable, at the end of which there hung a lead ball, making the antenna a lot longer. We received and transmitted in Morse code and then via an intercom with an internal communication device to inform the pilot of the coordinates. That first day I contacted the base and landed smoothly. Until Tuesday it was not expected that Group 14 flew again. I went back to my studies, but every Sunday, Elías would insist we went out for a walk around town. The weather during the entire weekend felt verysummery and we enjoyed a clear blue, cloudless sky. Tuesday came in the blink of an eye. Even though I had already had my first experience with that crew, I felt a little nervous before boarding the aircraft. I climbed the plane after the pilot, the co-pilot and the mechanic and I took my place on the steps, making sure the door was well closed. There, sitting in the confined space of my small compartment, surrounded by cables and radios, I felt at home. The engine noise was increasing and the plane began to roll down the runway. As the plane accelerated, the rough patches of the pavement made us stumble more and more but as soon as the wheels peeled off the ground, everything was calm. I made sure I checked the equipment and put it in order. Once I had certified that everything worked properly, I could relax but the radio started ringing immediately. The signal was very clear, it was our base – they called us to report that a massive storm that was heading towards us. I pressed the microphones of the communication device against my throat and passed the information to commander García. He did not answer, I tried again and I finally heard Martin, the co-pilot. The captain never wore the headphones on.

\- Weather report from base received.

\- Forward report.

\- Low pressure area, cyclone formation in quadrant two, sector one.

\- Storm in sight.

Before the co-pilot could finish pronouncing those words, the light disappeared as if night had suddenly fallen upon us. The small lights in the radio kept me wrapped in a shimmering halo. I don't know if Garcia was bold or stupid - either way, he decided to ascend and try to fly over the storm. The huge black cloud engulfed us and for a few seconds all was quiet, as if we were sailing down a river forced by the current to the heart of the storm. Then, a suddenjoltlift me a metre above the ground. I fell back on my place and I quickly buckled the belt around my waist. Buckets of water started to pour everywhere on the plane – it felt more as though we were sailing across the ocean rather than flying on a plane. The fuselage was violently shaken again and again and I couldn't stop wondering how much longer that machine wouldbe able to endure the harshness of Mother Nature. What if we were crossing a hailstorm? A bright light shone around the aircraft - I was stunned for a moment as if I someone had fired the flash of a camera straight into my eyes. When I heard the rumble of thunder I came close to urinating on myself. How was the commander able to remain on course? It was impossible to see anything out there - it was as if we had entered the lion's den. The constant onslaught of the windforced the plane to change its course continuously and the compass kept racing in all directions. The airplane was unable to gain height and could barely fly over the mass of effervescent air. Lightning criss-crossed the sky around us - what if one of them was to reach us? Would the fuel tanks explode and disintegrate us all instantly or would it slice the fuselage making us plummettowards earth like a heavy rock? Of course it was better not to think about it but it was hard to keep a cool head. I had to forget about the storm and concentrate on my work. If we continued flying aimlessly we'll end up ramming into the top of a mountain or out of gas in the middle of nowhere. For a moment, Don Roberto's geography lessons came to mind: "Water covers ¾ of the planet - over 70% of the surface of the earth is water". I didn't know what was worse, colliding head-on with a peak and dying instantly or falling into the ocean and end up drowning. I started sending telegraphs nervously, asking for someone to reply. I sent my request and waited but I could only hear the noise of the storm.

\- Nuñez, get me a position.

\- I'm on it, I'm on it.

"A bit too late", I thought, "you could have listened to me before getting into the damn storm". The men in the cabin had left their microphone on and I could hear them arguing. The crazed mechanic, in complete panic, kept on saying terrifying words, sentencing us all to the worst of deaths. Again and again, I transmitted a request for positioning in Morse but it was useless, the interference caused by the storm nullified my transmission. Then I thought I'd deploy the cableantenna.

\- Commander, it is necessary to extend the antenna, keep the plane as stable as you can.

\- Go on, unfold the antenna and pray that we are not struck by lightning.

I quickly turned the handle and let out all the cable. The counterweight flew several feet behind the plane's tail shaking it violently on either side. You could hear perfectly well the lashes of the cable against the tail's fuselage. Never in my life would I have imagined this situation - I, who had always wanted to fly, would now give anything to change the Heinkelfor a mule like the ones my father used to ride on. Once I deployed the entire length of the cable I began to transmit as fast as I could. I had to disconnect the equipment rapidly as this could attract lightning. And what if it happened to come through the antenna? Can the current navigate through the headphones and fry me like a chicken in an electric oven? UndoubtedlyI would be the first one to feel the voltage. Again I tried to focus on my work and banish those dismal thoughts. I sent my message and I kept on listening again but for a few minutes all I heard were the amplified sounds of the storm on the antenna. I have to try as many times as necessary, - I told myself –even if it is a thousand times. From the sounds that were coming out of the cabin, I inferred that the situation was worsening. The pilot did everything possible to keep the plane in the air while the mechanic and the co-pilot were trying to strangle each other. At last I heard something, it was definitely a reply. But it was impossible to understand a single word. I kept on requesting continued positioning. From land someone using a loop antenna, probably in some small station in the middle of nowhere, like where I had spent so much time, received my message and, thanks to the distortion, managed to position us. The transmission was repeated cyclically, as I had ordered. I was trying to discern what numbers were being said. I understood the number to be two and waited for the message to be repeated. Yes, I was sure that the first number was a two. The volume of the radio was at its loudest and the noise that was coming out of it was hellish. The storm transformed the radio signal into a deafening rattle. I already had the first of the numbers, now I had to get the rest. Next one – number six. No, I think it's a seven, yes, finally it's a seven. I was sure and the last number was a zero - I had it: two hundred and seventy. It was clear that this was not Murcia. The tornado had deviated us significantlyfrom our course and we were now in Albacete.

Great! As soon as the commander takes the new course and starts descending, we'll find the airport and this nightmare will be over. I conveyed our position to the pilot via my microphone but I instantly pulled my hand away from the device and screamed in pain: the unit had collapsed and the coils of the microphone were burning. I quickly hauled the transmitter from my neck and tossed it to the ground. We were sentenced - everything that could go wrong was going wrong. I turned the radio off hastily – the last thing we wanted was for it to catch fire or attract a lightning. It looked as though I had no choice but to send out information the old fashion way. I unbuckled decisively and immediately found myself flying through the air. The jolts were so powerful thatthey managed to cancel gravity inside the plane for brief moments of time. I was hit again and again, fell and rolled on the floor, got up again and tried to get to the nose of the aircraft at all costs. The interior was completely dark, it was only thanks to the glistening flashes of lightning irradiating through the small windows that I could see where I was going. I managed to crawl to the cabin and handed the note to Commander García. He immediately swerved the machine turning it towards the indicated position. Meanwhile, Martin was trying to strangle the mechanic but it was a losing battle: the co-pilot was quite frail while his rival was strong as anox. As soon as they saw the pilot perform the manoeuvre and descended in search of the aerodrome, theysettled down and put their uniforms on as if nothing had ever happened. The plane descended sharply but it could not get out of the storm. What if there is no visibility? The dense clouds might be concealing the ground and make uscrash into anything. But when the altimeterindicated nine hundred feet, we were finally able to see the runway. The large amounts of water dumped by the storm on us formed a kind of thick, dense curtain that made it very difficult to handle the plane. But luckily, Garcia was an experienced pilot and managed to stabilise the aircraft a few feet off the ground. It was then that I remembered I had not pulled back the cable antenna. I prayed that it didn't cause any incidents.

The aircraft bounced several times on the track before it finally decided to run on it. As I got off the plane I was so glad to be on solid ground that I burst out laughing. I would never have imagined that flying dependent on the elements, on the wind, and on luck to this extreme. It was far from an exact science but at least, maths served their purpose: had it not been for that radio operator who measured the visibility in the loop antenna, we would never have been able to land.

We waited for the storm to subside. Night came and nothing had changed so we were forced to spend the night in Albacete and return to our base the next morning. That morning I could still feel the fear in my body but as the plane took off and flew normally over the clear sky, I almost forgot what happened and I was again happy to be part of the crew.

Things were slowly changing, but for the better. After recovering from the illness that took me away from my service for several months, I decided to study more. I signed up for language classes and began to spend more time outside the barracks. The experiencesIwas having erased my earlier desire to pursue a military career so I looked for a place to stay - something decent but within my means. I rented a room from a family living in the area – it was small but clean and tidy. Much to my surprise, the first day I moved into the house, I found out that Conchita, that beautiful young girl I had fallen in love with, lived there. Fate had played its cards and brought me to this home. I had only seen her parents that day in the cafe when I first saw her but had not paid any attention to them. The first night I could hardly sleep thinking she was in the roomnext to mine - we were only separated by the few inches of the wall. Conchita was very interested in literature and always wondered what I was reading. Besides being beautiful, she was also very intelligent and loved to read. Surely if I had tried to visit her in the cafeteria, she would have never noticed me as she despised men who wasted their time and money playing cards and drinking wine in bars.

Soon we became close friends. We often talked about life and about what we would like to do in the future. As time went past, however, things became more complicated. Did she only think of me as a good friend? If I were to share my feelings with her, I might jeopardise my relationship with the whole family, and who knows, I might be asked to move out. Having to deal with women is far too difficult! You never know what they're thinking about...

One fine Sunday I was studying English. Conchita knocked on the door of my room.

\- Sorry to bother you but they are showing a great movie at the Imperial - Singing in the Rain with Stanley Donen and Gene Kelly. I have no one to go and see it with. Would you like to join me?

I was speechless. Why did I not think about taking her to the movies before?

\- Don't worry, if you have to study, we can leave it for another day.

\- No, I was really looking forward to the release of "Singing in the Shower". She giggled delightfully, seeing how nervous I was.

She wore a cream coloured combinationwith a skirt, and wore patent-leather shoes with a medium heel. The truth is, that's all she needed because she was as tall as me. She was truly beautiful. Her mid-length hair shone in the sun and I sat spellbound listening to her talking. We walked to the cinema, bought some gum in a kiosk and entered the hall to watch the movie. I couldn't stop staring at her and was getting more and more nervous as time went by. It was high time to let her know that I didn't only want to be her friend. If I don't make a move now, I may never have a chance like this again. I tried to get close to her but didn't know how. So I thought about one of the oldest - but apparently most effective - tricks in the book. That's right, I told myself, maybe yawning and stretching my arm around her shoulders will work. I armed myself with courage and performed the very childish move. When I rested my arm on her, she smiled and leaned over me. I felt like the luckiest man in the world. I was so happy I could not stop smiling.

One day, when I was getting myself ready inside the plane, the base commander ordered us to stop the engines, asked me to get off and replaced me with Ramirez. It looked as though the "teacher's pet" had gotten tired of doing the boring guards in the old house and he was now replacing me. I was being sent to do my old job. Now that I had finally gotten used to that gang of crazy bastards, I was being sent back to the middle of nowhere to wait for someone to send a radio message.

\- Commander, is there a possibility for Nuñez to continue doing his job here? – asked Garcia.

\- Orders are orders.

\- Damn orders ... - aggressively grumbledthe mechanic as he started heading towards the Commander. Martin grabbed his arm and held him back.

The commander felt threatened and decided to get out of there before the big man could inflict him any harm on him. They were a bunch of nut cases but I had also learnt to love them. The co-pilot spent his entire day fighting with the mechanic, while Garcia - atheatre aficionado-, used to practice performing some of the characters that appeared in the booklets he often read.

Shortly after that same morning I was back to climbing those steep hillswith my old bike.

The family that ran the bakery had always consisted of obese people but the new baker was excessively thin. It must have been the exception that proves the rule. The truth is that Dionisio hadonly become part of the family after marrying the daughter of the former baker recently. Now the father-in-law took care of the wood stove while Dionisio made all the deliveries. He drove in his small truck around the villages in Albacete and although many of them made their own bread, the bread made by his wife's family was renowned for its quality and it was in very high demand. Since marrying the baker's daughter Dionisio enjoyed some new financial stability and although the family was not rich you could very well say the bread was always on the table. Many in the town thought it to be only a marriage of convenience because the young woman was not very attractive but despite all the gossip, the girl's father did not want to disappoint her. At first, Dionisio worked in the bakery but he had to get up very early and work hard, something he wasn't very keen on. He became a nuisance but the father could not fire him and leave his daughter's husband unemployed, so he decided to put him in charge of deliveries. Things soon got worse instead of improving. There was gossip about the man coming from left, right and centre. True, when Dionisio married the baker's daughter, he was thinking more about the economic position of the family than on the beauty of his wife. Soon he met many unmarried shopkeepers in the towns where he delivered the bread. He was flirting with many of them, although he had never slept with any of them. Claudia was the easiest of them all – as soon as he stepped into the back room of her shop to unload the baskets of bread, he started to fondle her and although she reproached him for it, did not pose any resistance or slowed his long hands down. That morning Dionisio was besieged by an uncontrollable desire and pounced on the innocent girl.

\- No! Not here! The owner could see us and she'll fire me – whispered the girl lowering her dress again and stopping his hands from feeling her butt.

\- I'll come around this afternoon to pick you up as soon as I finish my deliveries.

Dionisio continued with his work, with a smile he could not erase all day. Every time he delivered a load of bread, he imagined rolling on the baskets of bread on the back of the truck with the young girl. The sky began to darken and although it was only early hours of the afternoon, it felt like the evening. He finally concluded all deliveries and drove quickly to Claudia's shop. She was waiting hiding in a doorway and jumped into the truck immediately.

\- Speed up, speed up, and get out of here before someone sees us.

\- Alright, alright, let's go...

\- To be honest, I don't know what I'm doing. One of the customers said that you are married to one of the baker's daughters. I am a Catholic and would never commit a sin of this kind. Dionisio was not paying any attention to the words of the girl. He knew he could easily manipulate her with his sweet words.

\- She knows I don't love her, it was a marriage of convenience, I really did her a favour. Who in their right mind would want to marry her?

He stopped the truck on a road in the outskirts and didn't wait a second to put his hands on Claudia's breasts, who resisted his words but not his body. Then, a lightning lit up the sky and the subsequent roar of a thunder made the girl jump out of her seat.

\- This is not right. If we continue on this path we will be condemned to hell...

But he continued kissing her and she succumbed to him again. When he had almost completely stripped her underwear off, he realised there was not enough space in the cabin of the truck and it would be impossible to get anything done.

\- Come to the back of the truck, it'll be more comfortable.

\- I don't know, I think we should leave. What if someone sees us?

\- But who is going to be walking around in this rain?

\- Surely God is watching us from the heavens and that has caused this storm.

\- Come on, girl, we are not going to do anything.

\- Promise me - Dionisio nodded and the girl agreed to go to the back of the truck.

They scurried under the rain and went to the back part of the truck. There the smell of the bread was very intense and there was barely any light. Again the young man pranced on the girl but just as he was about to lean over her and had managed to pull down her skirt and petticoats, they heard an intense roar fast approaching. It was like a steam locomotive descended from heaven at full speed and was heading straight to them.

\- My God, my God, forgive me, I promise I will never get involved with married men again – as soon as she finished pronouncing those words, something hit the wooden box of the truck turning it into pieces.

Panicking, she ran in the rainscreaming her head off. In seeing this, Dionisio began to pray Our Father. He took the wheel and hurried home. He prayed all way home and asked God to forgive him. From that day on, Dionisio preferred to stay in the bakery preparing the bread and did not try to seduce any other women.

If it were not for the good times with Elías and Conchita at the dance on Sunday, I would have felt like a hermit. I spent endless hours in that little shed but I learnt to take advantage of sunny days to explore the surroundings althoughI remained always on alert listening to the station. The nights were very different. They felt were very long and when there was a storm it seemed as though the little cabin was going to be blown to pieces. To be honest, I did sleep through most of my guards – the only reason to stay awake was to avoid being arrestedshould an officer turn up in the middle of the night. That didn't happen very frequent but Captain Ávila liked to go around the different posts from time to time, especially on the days he stayed up late playing cards in the officers' canteen. He almost caught me once but I am a light sleeper and I wake up as soon as I hear a noise. Luckily, my post was the farthest of all and it was only reachable by motorised vehicle so I was always alerted of someone's arrival.

Today they had relieved me early and this meant I had guard at night. I took the day to study. It was clear that if I wanted to become something in life, I'd better apply myself, especially now that I started to notice signs of change. There were US officials inspecting the base, giving advice and showing the new techniques afforded to the aviation by the advances in science. I knew I had to force myself to learn English so I studied in my spare time. Elías used to get me some dated copies of The Times thatthe officers read in the canteen but to improve I needed to converse with foreigners and that was impossible.

I left with enough time before dark, wondering if they will end up giving me a proper car as stipulated by the rules. So much pedalling was making me very fit – so much so if I was to race in the Tour of Spain, I'm sure I would end up in a good position. The vegetation near the creek was very luscious and really beautiful to look at but it was also the area where the terrain was rougher and the slopes steeper. Today I had time to spare and got off the bike to walk around quietly as the sun was slowly disappearing behind the horizon. In the post, Elías was waiting for me.

\- Hey man! What are you doing here?

\- I ask myself the same thing. I don't know what the hell is happening, lots of things are changing, and everyonehas gone insane!

\- I guess it isbecause of the Americans.

\- No, I don't think so, something big must have happened.I'll call Pilar tonight and ask her if she's heard anything.

\- Ok, that's fine, make sure you tell me tomorrow. Hey! Wait a moment! -and I took the comic book he had been reading.

\- Okay, but let's see when you are going to buy yourself one and stop reading those boring English newspapers - he said jokingly.

\- Come on – off you go, it's getting dark.

\- What's for dinner?

\- Today they have noodle soup and fish, but make sure you get there because they've also added chocolate dessert, as if it were a holiday.

I don't know. I felt that evening it was going to feel long but at least, reading the Adventures of Tintin would distract me. Reading truly absorbed me - I could not stop until I finished the book. By then it was already very late and began to feel sleepy. I leaned across the table and fell asleep instantly. Only a few minutes after the backfiring sound of a car's engine woke me up. How strange. Who could it be at this hour of the morning? The engine noise kept on approaching until reaching the door of the hut. All cars stopped on the road about fifty yards from the shed and then everyone walked because the terrain was very rugged.

\- You have to return to base, I will replace you - Ramirez said as he opened the door.

\- But are you crazy? How am I going to return at this hour?

\- Here! Grab the keys, be careful with the curves, it tends to skidtowards the right - Ramirez trading places with me for the worst post in the base, at night and giving me the keys to his motorcycle?This was most unusual.

\- What happened? Are we being attacked by the Russians?

\- You have to meet up with Group 14 as soon as possible, I know nothing else.

It was clear that he knew something else. I left the radio shed and went to the airfield. When I arrived it was still dark. The commander asked me to prepare my backpack and be ready to go first thing in the morning. The same man who removed me from Group 14 was now giving me back my post as radio navigator. There were cars and trucks circulating all around the base. The troops were forming in front of the gates. It was the strangest thing I had ever seen. Luckily, I found Elías in the company.

\- What's happening?

\- Have you not heard?

\- Are the Russians really attacking us?

\- We are at war, we leave for the front today.

\- The Soviets?

\- What Russians? What Soviets? We leave for the Canarian Islands, the war is in the Sahara.

\- What's in the Sahara apart from camels and sand?

\- I know, that's exactly what I asked myself.

\- Damn coward!

\- What? Have you gone mad?

\- No, not talking about you, I meant the bastard of Ramirez, the chicken has asked to replace me so that he could stay here and didn'thave to go to war. Now I understand why the commander has given me back my old job in Group 14.

I didn't have time to call or to write Conchita, so I threw some pencil and paper in my bag, in case I had some time on the plane. I arrived at the airfield in a hurry when dawn was already breaking and I had to run to catch the Heinkelas it was already rolling towards the runway. There was a number 14 painted on the rudder and under it you could still read what must have been its former name TVT-BOJUB.

\- Ehhh, wait, wait! I shouted as I ran withone hand over my knapsack and the other wavingto them. But nothing, my efforts were pointless, the aircraft continued to accelerate. What would they tell the commander? How would I explain that I arrived late and that they went to war without me?

The plane stopped suddenly. The door opened and the mechanic peered through the door.

\- You thought we were leaving without you.Hahaha!

\- That wasn't funny at all! I said in broken words and panting.

\- García had bet a bottle of anise with Martín you'd come running thinking we had forgotten you.

\- Typical of García...

I climbed on board and went to the cabin wanting to reprimand the pilot but as I put my foot on the plane the crew uncorked a bottle of champagne to celebrate my return to Group 14.

\- I really don't know what we are celebrating? Don't you realise we are going to war?

\- Nuñez, you're a lucky guy, that's exactly what we are celebrating. Thank God you're with us.A toast to the best radio navigator of all times! - García replied as he handed me a metal ladle with a little champagne.

4

Back in my old place, sitting on the aircraft's access stairs, I began taking notes and making navigation calculations, just to be cautious. Four planes gathered in the air, all of them with the same destination – the Canarian Islands. Normally, in the maps the islands are located near the peninsulabut it is only when you fly over them that you realise they are a lot farther than you could have ever imagined. The flight was not without incidences –in this occasion the pilot and the co-pilot argued heatedly as always. I had the radio on to try and maintain communication with the group of aircrafts but all I could hear were screams and insults coming from the cabin – just as well I kept the microphone off all the time.

\- Nuñez, Nuñez! Come over. Help me split them up, they are going to kill themselves– howled the mechanic as he was beingshoved from left to right by the abrupt jolting of the plane.

\- Let's go to the cabin, these two are capable of crashing the plane. Maybe your diplomacy skills will help us calm them down. I have tried everythingpossible but look at the result – said the mechanicpointing at a small fissure in his forehead just above the right eyebrow.

We both ran to the cabin where we found the two men clutching each other's neck. The truth is that I was so used to this kind of scenes that it didn't even bothered me. The plane was shaking violently from left to right and it was only between blows that the pilot took hold of the controls and kept us flying. There were only two options - we either ended up crashing at sea or the commander in one of the other aircrafts will lock us all up in the military prison as soon as we touch ground. I intervened trying to calm them down.

\- But what's happening? - I asked to divert their attention to see if they calmed down by talking about it.

\- I can't stand this idiot any more, he thinks just because he is in command he knows better than anyone else and can do whatever he pleases. The other day he flew us over his in-laws' house for almost an hour for them to see him. Just now we flew nearmy father's land and I asked him to go over just to see if the next door neighbour had moved the cairns that mark the boundaries and he refused.

\- I don't take orders from anyone - replied the pilot, calmly pulling a cigarette from its case, taking it to his mouth and lighting it with a match. And then, as if he was merely discussing a game of cards in a bar, he stood up from his seat and left the cabin.

\- Where are you going? - asked Martin.

\- Take over the controls, I need to pee - it's quite normal for the pilot or co-pilot to leave the cabin to urinate – it was inevitable on long flights. Here, we all used the trapdoor for the release of bombs to relive our bladder.

- Well, now I just won't. When I asked you to let me take a look at my father's land you didn't and now you want to give me orders? I simply refuse. You know what? I'm going to get a drink.

The two left the cockpit leaving the machine without any control.The mechanic's face went white as snow. For a second no one said anything.

\- Take the controls Nuñez, we are going to crash!

And so it was that I came to fly an airplane for the first time. I grabbed the steering wheel with one hand and slightly steadied the aircraft. Then, I sat in the pilot's seat and held onto the controls firmly. It didn't seem too hard I thought but the machine immediately began to heel over. By the time I realised that one wing was falling and reacted, it was too late and caused the plane to tilt abruptly towards the opposite side. I becametenser but I gradually managed to level it up. Once the plane maintained a steady course, things were a lot simpler. It sort of reminded me of cycling.

We landed in the Canarian Islands. The four aircrafts landed on the runway one after another, forming a row. The air force is usually the first group to reach the area of operations and I was part of it. This time we were spared from serious trouble as it seems that only another pilot realised we were doing strange things in the air. As far as my work is concerned, there were no incidents and wedid not have to deploy the antenna nor cause any havoc with the metal ball attached to it as counterweight. We never found out what happened in Albacete but the traces of paint embedded in the metal made us think that we had struck something.

What awaited next? First we were given instructions not to leave the site so we walked around waiting for orders to arrive. War is one of the most absurd of man's inventions, regardless of how advanced a country think it is or how well prepared its army is. During war everyone starts to behave strangely, it is chaos and anarchy. I would compare it to an absurd quarrel between kids in the schoolyard.

The weather was warm, the skies were blue and we used to take refuge from the sun playing cards under the planes' wings. Would we go out to war that very same day or perhaps we would have to spend several more days waiting? Deep inside we were all hoping for the conflict to die down. As the hours passed the idea of returning home seemed to be gaining strength. After all, it wouldn't be the first time one of these conflicts was resolved through political negotiation.

\- In line everyone! – commanded the sergeant loudly.

Were we finally being sent home? It was getting dark and it didn't seem like a good time to go anywhere.

\- You have fifty minutes to eat something, then I want everyone in line right here.Dismissed!

At first, it seemed like good news, but then it made us think, particularly after we saw a platoon of soldiers beginning to load the aircrafts.

We spent the night at the airport and we finally received instructions the next morning. Could I be any unluckier? The Group 14 would be responsible for making the first reconnaissance flight over enemy territory; then as we returned with all the information, we would leave with the rest of the squads to bomb the target.

\- Fasten your seatbelts, you know where the emergency exit is and remember, if someone decides to jump, don't forget that the backpack with personal items is not a parachute-García said jokingly as always.

It was a smooth flight. We started taking the first position coordinates, highlighting the targets in a map. I have to say that I tried to avoid populated territory as much as possible. Everything seemed to go swimmingly until they started shooting at us. Luckily they used low-calibre weapons so it was easy to escape them by taking on some altitude.

\- How are you holding Nuñez? Be careful not get another hole in your ass.

\- I think I have already recorded all positions, we can return to the base - I replied.

The plane made a 180 degrees turn and we returned to base. The truth is that I was more worried about our second trip. We had caught them by surprise but now they'd be waiting for us and perhaps with more than just rifles.

I passed the information to the captain as he was responsible for deliveringitto the general. We prepared for the mission, and shortly after we received the order to take off. The ride to the hot zone felt very short. Once in that damn place time seemed to slow down as if the hands of the clock ceased to move. Iwasn't mistaken –the enemy was waiting for us with heavy artillery and soon things started to get ugly. In any case, I intended to continue with my plan – I was not a pacifist but it didn't seem right to bomb targets that we hardly had any information on.

We lead the squad to the point of discharge, opened the hatch and began to drop shells. They enemy was instantly intimidated and ran to seek shelter. The projectiles reached the land and dove into the fine sand of the desert, as if it were water. Only one or two exploded. I was glad when we had released all our freight for it was time to return.

I got off the plane and without even having time to rejoice at the fact that I was once more stepping on solid ground, I met the commander head on – that same old base commander who always forced me to bike to my post, that grumpy old man with dog face.

\- Nuñez you're a lucky guy, I want you as radio pilot in my Heinkel right now.

It couldn't be true – my ears had just stopped beeping from the sound of the explosions and I was already being sent back to the front. This man must be sick in the head. He must be one of those crazy superstitious persons and now wanted to use me as an amulet. Plus it had to be outside the regulation –the norm was to fly on the aircraft that had been assigned to you but this time I had to fly with the commander, while another radio navigator flew in my Henkel.

Back in the air, and this time I had a bad feeling – third time lucky, that's all I could think about. Again, just as we entered hostile territory the enemy began to fire although this time appeared to be less intense – they were probably imagining what awaited them. This time the commander was responsible for the discharge points and I had no chance of intervening. We dropped all the bombs but again the vast majority ended up buried in the sand without exploding.

\- What kind of shitty weapons do we have?When were these bombs made? Are they full of TNT or cement? What TNT? Theywere probably made before the civil war! They are surely older than my wife! - the commander couldn't stop ranting, his flushed face seemed about to explode.

He was partly right. The first time I thought it was my slight deviations in the coordinates but this time it was clear that those bombs were not going to explode.

\- Let's go back to the base! I need someone to fix the problem. It is obvious no one will send us proper ammunition so we'll have to come up with something inventive.

I was glad to hear that order. I might be luckier this time and be given the chance to remain on the ground a while longer. But justas I was thinking this, several bullets hit my plane - a bullet pierced the fuel tanks, others went across the place I was supposed to be sitting on. Fortunately for me, the commander had ordered me to leave my aircraft and fly with his. If he had followed the rules I would have possibly been killed that day. My entire old crew was saved, they just had to make an emergency landing on a nearby beach. Thankfully no one had taken up my seat on that flight so they suffered no casualties. Several memories from my childhood came to mind and then I thought about Conchita. It had been a close shave. Had it not been for the commander's absurd order, several bullets would have pierced me through. War was not a joke, only idiots or fools are not afraid of it.

5

After the first two days of air strikes, things calmed down and we only conducted observation missions merely to confirm that everything was in order. Back to the grind, I continued studying English and trying to practice it with anyone I encountered. The bars of the area were full of British sailors so I used to approach them and invite them to a beer - they were always surprised to learn of my motives. It was a very cost effective method to learn English as I could not afford to pay for expensive private tuition. For the price of a beer or two, the sailors were happy to tell me all about their lives. And this takes me to one of the most absurd stories I experienced while flying. It was speaking with one and another that I slowly found out about businesses that were not entirely legal.

In the evenings when I had some free time I used to walk by a small hostel located in the port itself. If I remember correctly it was called Gran Hotel Mediterranean, but it was known as The three lies, since it was neither a hotel, nor was it in the Mediterranean and that den was most definitely not grand. It was in that place where the sailors used to go drinking, not because of the positive images that its name conjured but most of them frequented it because it was the closest establishment to the port and because they used to serve smuggled rum and whiskey. Inside, the bustle of the card players was as intense as the tobacco smog. I crossed the haze and walked towards the bar where I waited for the waiter to serve me. I ordered a beer and watched those scruffy men risk their pay on a game of cards. I tried to locate an Englishman with whom I could talk – generally, it wasn't too difficult because they were often the rowdiest and easiest to spot. I thought I saw a familiar face. I stared at him and he raised his glass of whiskey, toasting in the air. It was Timothy, a sailor I had met days earlier. Tim had been stuck in this port for several days because his boat had broken down. The life of those sailors was very hard. They used to spend long periods away from home without knowing exactly when they would return, nor what their salary would be. They had to be adventurous soulsbecause if businesses did not go well, their share was drastically reduced and they could barely cover their expenses, and this without taking into account the trouble they often ran into with customs police and the pirates they found along in their journeys. Tim looked like one of those crazy gold prospectors and somehow that's what it was. If he was lucky, really lucky, he would be able to make money in one of his expeditions. It wasn't quite like that for sailors from other countries where the work system was virtually a military regime. Here only the entrepreneur who chartered the ship was bound to make any money.

I approached the table and he stood up to shake my hand, articulating some poorly pronounced words in Castilian. I sat down and I asked the waiter to serve us a round. When I took out my wallet to pay, Tim asked me tohide it and insisted on paying.

\- The deal was that I paid the drink in exchange for a chat in English.

\- Well, that was before, now that we are friends...

The truth is that the man had shared all his family problems with me. He had been a sailor for years and barely had the chance to see his wife and children. He said that when they were very young, about six years old or so, every time he returned home his wife had to explain to them that he was their father. The children just did not recognise him, especially the first day he arrived unshaven.

I wanted to ask him something. It was a sensitive issue I would ordinarily not enquiry about but a family member had asked me. Well, at the bottom of it there was also an economic necessity - I wanted to get married soon and I needed money for a lot of things.

\- You see Tim, I have an acquaintance in the peninsula who asked me to take some merchandise he would reward me handsomely for. He says there's quite a lot of money to be made on tobacco.

\- No, no, no! Not tobacco, not enough money! Silk is best!

\- Silk? You want me to take a roll of cloth?

\- No, not the roll - socks, women's clothing, expensive silk stockings ... put lots in suitcase.

He was right, stockings wereconsidered a luxury in Spain in those days. And you could take many in a suitcase, without a doubt. Tim knew where to get them at an almost ridiculous price compared to the value that they would fetch in my town.

I spent much of my savings to fill the suitcase with all kinds of women's underwear. It looked like a trunk; Thanks to my new friend I was given a very special price and to fit all those clothes in I bought the largest suitcase I was able to find. All week I hid it under my bed. Luckily no one noticed it, otherwise, I can only imagine what would have happened if they found all that lingerie. Finally, the day of the shipment arrived. I applied for a permit to fly to the mainland to visit a relative and it was granted. This was common as the planes flew continuously to and fro the peninsula ferrying aircraft equipment, so the crew could apply to travel in one of them. Gabriel, my second cousin, and the person who had got me involved in all of this, was waiting for me at Seville's airport. He still did not know anything about the stockings and thought I was carrying a load of tobacco, but that was not the problem. Just as I was waiting to board I saw my old friend the commander. I turned around pretending not to have seen him but I heard his footsteps approaching me.

\- Nuñez, my friend! Where are you going?

\- Sir, yes sir! I'm going to visit a relative in Seville.

\- I didn't know you were from Seville?

\- No, I'm from Aragón but I have a cousin in Seville.

\- Good, I'm sure your cousin would not mind waiting a little longer. I have an important mission and want you to be part of it.

\- But Sir, I'm on leave today.

I was starting to get nervous. I noticed the commander staring at my suitcase several times. Luckily, he didn't asked me what was inside.

\- Nuñez, you're a lucky man ... we'll talk after your leave afterwards. By the way, what do you have in that trunk?

I felt I lump in my heart and for a moment I was speechless, after a couple of attempts, I managed to pull out a response.

\- Dirty clothes mostly and a gift for my girlfriend.

\- Bring it here, let's load it to the plane. What's yourcousin's name?

\- Gabriel – I tried saying firmly but my voice was quivering.

\- I will make sure it gets to himpersonally.

The situation was getting worse by the moment. The commander, pulling the suitcase from one side while I was pulling the other, with all those stockings smuggled inside, only to finally throw it inside as if it were a sack of potatoes. I held my breath for a moment because I could just see all those stockings and bras flying through the air. Luckily the suitcase remained closed. What did he mean that he'd make sure my cousin received itpersonally? This guy was capable of getting on the plane and delivering it in person. I don't want to imagine Gabriel's face if the commander rocks up with a suitcase full of smuggled goods. Now I could definitely see myself rotting in a military prison. Not sure what charges would they lay against Gabriel but it was clear what would happen to me when they applied the military code - nothing good.

\- Come with me Nuñez, I have to talk to you about something.

I had never seen the commander with that expression on his face - it was obvious he knew what was happening. We walked to a secluded area and again he looked at me with a stern face.

\- I heard about your business, about your visits to the Three Lies Hostel...

How could he have known? Maybe the waiter talked too much? It would be easy to get that fellow to talk - a couple of bucksand he'd even sell his sister.

Why would I have listened to Gabriel? I wouldn't be in this mess now. Don't worry, everyone does it, most soldiers deal in contraband. I don't know whether they deal in contraband or not but the truth is that whoever gets caught, pays for the crime dearly. Just because I wanted to marry and I needed to make some money to cover the cost of the pilot's course. Now I was going to spend at least a couple of years in a military prison and when I come out, I'll have no girlfriend, no job and not a single cent.

\- You see Nuñez, Doris is in town.

\- Doris?

\- Yes, the American actress Doris Day.

\- I don't understand.

\- I'm a big fan and I have the name of the hotel where she is staying, and since you speak English I thought...

I could not believe it. I breathed in relief and tried to keep my composure. I had no choice but to accede to his request and accompany him to visit the famous Hollywood actress that afternoon. It seemed that the man had a heart and even acted like a fairly normal person, after all. He covered all expenses and made sure I did not pay a single round. We did have a chance to talk to Doris and she even autographed some of her photos for us. While we were partying, the suitcase had reached its destination. As the commander insisted that it be handed to my cousin and since no one was claiming it, they began to call him over the loudspeaker. They've discovered us, he thought and ran for his life not unlike in a movie scene. He ran to and fro all over the airport hiding behind people. Most thought he was a nut case and as he finally headed towards the exit door:

\- Stop! Wait a minute.

Gabriel turned and saw an airport police coming towards him. He did not want to be arrested and thought that the guard would bounce over him.

\- Hold On! Wait a second.

He ran as fast as he could, his legs would not give more of himself and his heart seemed to be popping out of his chest.

\- What a weird fellow, what's got into him? - murmured the policeman as he held the handkerchief that Gabriel had dropped a moment ago.

I don't know where my cousin went but for a long time nobody knew anything about him. The days went by and since no one came toclaim up the suitcase, they began investigating so that they could identify the owner. It was twenty days later when a young captain was interested in the huge trunk. He was curious to find out what was hidden inside and applied all strength to open it. He was surprised to see the amount of stockings and lingerie hidden inside. He took that case very personally and tried to find who the soldier thathad tried to smuggle all those goods was. His enquiries led him to me and soon after I received the order to present myself to my superiors. I, who knew nothing of the matter and thought my cousin had successfully received the suitcase, was at all not worried. Again he began to waver. I thought he had another unofficial mission for me. And then I saw the young captain walking into the room carrying my huge trunk.

\- Nuñez! Remember that suitcase?

\- The suitcase? - I barely managed to stammer.

\- Yes, the darn suitcase I helped you get on the plane to send to your cousin.

\- Yes, yes, I remember.

\- Well, tell me, what the hell is inside?

What could I have said? It was obvious they knew exactly what it contained. Well as my father always said, it's always best to go ahead and tell the truth.

\- You see my commander, there's women's underwear.

\- You see what I was telling you? This suitcase must have been a gift for his girlfriend, - the commander told the young captain smiling.

\- Come on, you can't believe that. Why would anyone buy so many clothes to give to a woman? The young officer was not satisfied and wanted to finish his investigation by arresting a guilty party - whether his moral dictated it or whether he simply was in a hurry to ascend the ranks and wanted to score points, I don't know.

\- The thing is, I'm about to get married and my fiancée does not have a trousseau...

\- You see what I was telling you, Nuñez is an honest man. Stop wasting my time bothering my soldiers and invest your time in more profitable tasks.

No, don't think for a moment that he forgot that incident. He kept it to himself for a long time and waited for the right moment to make me pay back.

6

It was a small house, very simple inside and out. We would have preferred one of those newapartments, possibly a third or fourth floor. I know that now everyone favours a little cottage but back then we were tired of living in town villas. An apartment felt a lot more modern and sophisticated. The house had a small garden, a garage and a basement at the bottom. Most people used their little piece of land to grow vegetables. We were not like the Americans or the British who are obsessed with growing their lawns. Now that was my first son was soon to be born, I thought we could buy a swing. I could already see him running around the garden.

A military truck stopped right at the door. The driver, a young overweight soldier, approached me.

\- Sir, yes sir! Are you Mr. Nuñez?

\- Yes, I am. Are you bringing the appliances?

\- Not really sir. You see, it's a special delivery from the lieutenant colonel.

\- Who?

\- I don't know his name, he is a strong man with a face like...

\- A Dog! I didn't know he had been promoted to commander. Well, what are you delivering?

\- Old bombs left over from the Ifni war.

\- But how the heck are you going to leave bombs in my house? Do you want all my family to be blown to smithereens?

\- I know nothing, Sir. Lieutenant Colonel said to leave them at your home.

\- He didn't say anything else?

\- No, no, well yes, he muttered: Nuñez is a lucky man...

The first days were the hardest. Then after a few months, we forgot that we were living on a powder keg.

I'll never understand the military approach: first they fill your house with explosives and then they give you a medal. I received a letter informing me that I was being awarded a medal for my services during the Ifni War. Why did I want a medal? As they insisted on the subject, one day I went to pick it up, and then I was told I had to pay for it. These people are completely crazy. As if I have nothing else to do than spend my money on medals.

\- Look, you'd better sell it to someone else.

\- But Nuñez, you know that can't be done - the medal has been granted to you.

\- Well, there's no way you are going to get me to give a penny for that piece of junk.

Alfonso, my eldest son was intrigued by the lighter he found in the kitchen. It was one of those new long gadgets – the ones you had to press a button and they produced an electric spark and lit a small blue flame. By that time he must not have been more than four years old and his younger brother had not turned three yet. All the adults were playingTimba- every Sunday afternoon after lunch some of our friends visited for a good game of cards. The room door was closed and our lively conversation during the game prevented us from realising the children were up to something. Alfonso took the lighter from the kitchen to show his brother how it worked.

\- Look, you see the flame? Look, look! - he was telling his brother as he held the device in his hand and pressed the button.

But of course, this way you could hardly see the little flame. Maybe it wasn't working properly?

\- Bring me something, a piece of paper.

It was then that my wife appeared in the kitchen as she was looking to make more coffee.

\- What are you children doing? Why don't you come out to play in the garden?

She took them out of the kitchen without realising that Alfonso had slipped the lighter into his pocket. Shethought in thecourtyard they would enjoy themselves better. The garden needed a lot of care and it was somewhat neglected but perfect for the kids to play in. In fact, when the weather was good, they used to spend hours playing. Now that they were alone again, they finally had a chance to try out that lighter.

\- Bring me something, we'll try it.

The youngest child could hardly speak but he was able tounderstand everything he was told. He looked for something for his brother to burn and returned immediately with whatever he found first - a green leaf he had plucked from a bush. He handed it to him smiling.

\- We'll see...

He pressed the button with strength but failed to produce a spark. He performed the operation a second time and a bluish flame appeared at the end. He quickly pulled the leaf closer but it did not catch on fire - it was too green.

\- No, no, it's not good, we need to findsomething else...

They walked through the garden picking up everything that looked like fuel to them. Afterwards they piled it all up in front of the façade of the house and by the front driveway. The effort applied to ignite the lighter again was making the little guy turn red. The small flame sputtered in reaching the dry leaves. In no time the flames were a metre high. Alfonso began to blow as hard as he could -as he did on his birthday -, but he could not extinguish the fire. In a few seconds it began to spread all around the property and seeing that he was not able to turn it off, they both sought refuge in a safe place.

\- Let's go, we have to hide! We'll be safe under the car.

The vehicle was parked outside because the garage was full of military ammunition. The two children lay on the floor under the chassis, unaware of the danger. The rear of the car was facing the garage and it was precisely in that area where the gas tank was located. At the speed the fire was spreading, though, that was the least of the problems. If the ammunition lit, the entire house and part of the village would be blown to pieces. The children watched as the flames grew steadily and devoured everything in their path. The wind had changed direction and the grey haze surrounded them now. Their eyes watered and were unable to stop coughing. The younger one left the shelter and ran to their mother. Alfonso instead remained hidden. He knew what he had done was wrong and was worried about the punishment.

The youngest child burst into the room trying to warn the adults about the fire but the words would not come out of his mouth as he could hardly speak and the nerves made it difficult for him to vocalise.

\- A, A, A, Alfonso! Fi, fi, fire!

We all ran then and quickly noticed the smell of smoke. When we made itoutside half the garden was burning, the car was surrounded by flames and the child remained hidden underneath, nearly intoxicated by the smoke.

\- Alfonso, Alfonso! Where are you? Conchita screamed while a friend and I fought the flames with the curtains of the house.

The boy was too scared to give away his positionand was totally unaware that the car was about to explode. The fuel in the tank was beginning to heat up and it could go off at any time. I was more aware of the situation than anyone else as I was the only one who knew for sure what would happen if one of the old shells was to explode.

\- But where has your brother gone?

The boy was too scared and burst into tears. His mother kept asking him and while he tried to utter a few words, the sighs prevented him from speaking.

\- The, the, there! –he finally said, pointing under the vehicle.

My wife did not think twice and dove into the flames.She grabbed one of Alfonso's leg and drag him out from under the car, took him in her arms and found a safe place for him. Then the tank cracked and the pressurised fuel escaped with the hiss of a pressure cooker. The hot fuel had become gas and as soon as it escaped it began to burn. Luckily, I never put too much petrol in the car, I have always been one to replenish it little by little. I thought that this way the car didn't have to carry that much weight and would spend less.

We couldn't fight it. No matter how much we tried to extinguish the fire, new flames appeared as if by magic. The little gas I had left in the car did not have enough strength to detonate violently. Seeing my old Seat SixHundredburn was not at all pleasant but there was no time for regrets. All women and children found a safe refuge and warned the neighbours to call the fire department. We continued trying to extinguish the fire, hoping it would not reach the explosives. My shirt wastainted in black and the lower part of my pants were scorched. I had also burned some of my hair and I was missing an eyebrow but we just could not control that damn fire. The flames were starting to reach the garage doors and I could just see us all blown up. Then, the fire truck arrived. We were ordered to retreat. They sprayed water on the metal of the garage doors. The red plate crackled on cooling, releasing some steam.

7

Most people, just like my old commander, loved to talk about luck. People prefer to sit and wait for lottery to strike than working hard. Perhaps some might be lucky but I have personally always played a very different "Lottery of life". Only by working hard and preparing myself thoroughly, did I managed to get luck to smile at me. It is unlikely that a person who does not attend acting classes becomes a good actor. Nor is it likely that a person who does not study music theory ends up being a good musician. As a very wise saying goes:you have to build a house from its foundation.

While working in the army as radiogonometrist, I tried to save as much as I could. No, my intentions were not to go on vacation - I invested all that money on my education. I studied several languages, including, as I have earlier mentioned, English, but I also attended several courses that I thought would help me build a good future for myself – I learnt electronics, and of course, how to pilot a plane.Back then, that type of training was very expensive and difficult to obtain. Think about it for a moment -in the early seventiesbeing a pilot was equivalent to being an astronaut. How many pilot licenses could there have in the world in the forties? It was only in 1927 that Charles Lindbergh attempted his famous crossing of the Atlantic and in 1937 Amelia Earhart disappeared over the Pacific Ocean in her attempt to become the first woman to circle the world on a plane. I, personally, started my apprenticeship as a pilot in an old Bücker Bü 131 Jungmannin the late forties- a beautiful swept wing biplane with an interior and instrumentation that left much to be desired. This plane flew with half of its body uncoveredso in winter you touched ground feeling colder than an icicle. But besides those cold days, flying that aircraft was a wonderful experience that always gave me an intense sense of freedom. You could fly up, fly down and do pretty much anything you wanted to do in the air.

My plan was beginning to bear fruits and so was my dad's. He had been sent to the war in Africa in 1923. The soldiers were transported to Algeciras and Tarifa but then the army had no means to transfer them to the African continent. He waited for months to be shipped but in the end never crossed the Straits of Gibraltar. During that time he watched the planes taking off and landing every day and it was then that he realised that aviation was the future of transportation. My father had a plan, a purpose that he was not able to fulfil. So secretly and without telling anyone, hedid everything he could for me to follow that path. He had placed all his hopes in me and that's why he was angry if I ever left my studies to help him out.

One of the days I best remember was when I was first given the chance to fly by myself. If you've never flown a plane, this might seem silly but I can assure you it is not. An aircraft is not like a car - if it stalls it is easy to start it rather quickly again. Or if we get nervous the first day we drive it in traffic we can just pull over and park it anywhere. An airplane cannot stop mid-air, you cannot get off it whenever you feel like it. If the controls are released or the engine stops, the plane heads straight for the ground. No matter how many classes you take, the moment of truth truly comes when the teacher gets off the aircraft and leaves you alone.

I positioned myselfright at the beginning of the airfield, I performed a quick engine check, accelerating it and monitoring its revolutions and then I push it tofull throttle and began to pick up speed. It is at this very moment when you realise that you are alone, that no one can help you, that you now rely solely on yourself, on your skills and on your knowledge. I lifted the nose of the plane at the appropriate speed and the landing gear separated from the ground. At that point, on take-off, I felt as if the umbilical cord that connected me with everyone down below was suddenly cut. I gained height, I felt elated and a smile was drawn across my face. I felt totally free. I could now do whatever I wanted, I could twist and loop or rev the engine up to its limit. The instructor was not flying with me and there was no one to reprimand me or yell at me to ask me to control the altimeter or the anemometer. I flew over the blue sky tainted by the amber of the sunset and then I started to land. At that moment I felt a little more tensed. There was no one beside me to tell me if I was approaching the runway too high or too slow, too fast or too low. I had to trust myself and my instinct. Thousands, millions of seeds that resembled dandelions floated in the air, weightless, propelled by the gentle breeze, glistening as the rays of sun touched them like tiny little sparkly lights. Time stopped. The purr of the engine sounded just like music and I could smell those little flowers. I wanted to let the controls go and stay up there forever. At seventy feet high, in that moment I realised I was flying too low so I had to push the engine and do a long approach at very low altitude. Immediately the plane landed smoothly on the runway and I felt the adrenaline rush again. I drovethe aircraft up until where the instructor was waiting for me with the other students and got off the Bücker. My mind was still up there. Out of the blue, a bucket of cold water brought me back to earth. It was the famous "baptism". All the other pilots who had already flown before prepared a bucket of water and poured it over the pilot who had just attempted its first solo flight.

I prepared well for my pilot exam – I knew the theory extremely well but I had my doubts about the incoming traffic to the airport. I had only landed once on this runway and since the approach was always made from the south, I had never performed a landing coming from the north. Not even with tailwind.

\- I don't know, I haven't had a chance to prepare the approximation well enough...

\- Don't worry Nuñez, I've never seen them ask anyone to land from the north side.

Still, I felt restless and until I memorised the secondary route, I didn't feel any better.

I was approaching the airport at 110 km/h when the examiner informed me that I had to enter through the north. Murphy's Law: it never fails. Now, without any actual practice and only with the visual references that I had studied on the map, I made the approach.

\- How was the test? - my instructor asked.

\- The truth is I have no idea, I don't know when the results will be published.

I was pretty nervous. Although I had prepared myself the best I could, I would not breathe easy until I received my grades. The course was very expensive, and I had managed to cover its costs thanks in part to the profits I made from selling the silk stockings. I knew if I failed it would be very difficult to gather that sort of money again to pay for another exam.

8

I was tired of serving in the army. I had spent so many years there that I barely remembered what it was like to lead a civilian life. Everyday things like enjoying your weekends, knowingwhen you are entitled to your holidays, and especially not having to worry constantly about what your superiors think of you. When I first started there were not many choices but now the economy was improving and a lot of people lived very well and hardly had any worries by running a small business. Many of my comrades had left the army to lead a civilian life, working as pilots in Iberia. My wife used to tell me I should apply but how was I to get this type of job? Maybe a few years ago but now it was almost impossible. Everyone who joined the company was recommended by someone already there. That night at dinner we talked about it.

\- Look, it's impossible for me to join them and also, I don't think that the salaries are that great.

\- If you do not try, you'll never know.

I wasn't convinced but it seemed the best thing to do was to stop by the ministry to see what they had to say.

The next morning I pulled myself together and went to talk to them. After sending me from one office to the next – a very common occurrence in any government department, I finally got to the person in charge of the applications. He was a wasted, bald,hunched man wearing a pair of glasses that felt so big it looked as though he could barely lift his head.

\- Hello, good morning.

\- Maybe for you.

No, we were not starting on the right foot. That little man had no intention to work.

\- I would like to submit a job application for Iberia.

\- You are two years' late, there are no positions available.

\- Do you know when will they be calling for pilots again?

\- I think you misunderstood me - if you don't have a good recommendation I cannot accept your curriculum.

I went home a little disappointed but it was exactly what I had expected. I had many of the qualities required for the job - I was good at mathematics, navigation and English. But the gist of the matter was that Icame from a humble family and in those days if you had no godfather you could not be baptised.

\- How did the interview go?

\- A waste of time, I told you last night. Only those that come with a recommendation get through.

\- Well then, let's find someone who can recommend you.

\- But are you crazy? Who do we know? It has to be someone with a lot of influence.

\- What's the name of that girl, your friend's girlfriend?

\- What friend?

\- Elias' fiancé.

\- Pilar?

\- Yes, Pilar. She works with a general, I'm sure she can get you a recommendation.

\- But how do we talk to her? I have not spoken to Elías for a while, I don't even know where he is.

\- Well if he is in the army, it shouldn't be too hard to find him. Just send a telegram and get him to get in touch with you.

I would first have to go to talk to the old Lieutenant Colonel, something I wasn't looking forward to. So, without thinking about it twice I went to see him at his office. It was incredible – no matter how much time went by, the old grumpy man still looked exactly the same.

\- Nuñez! What brings you by? Sit down, sit down.

I was surprised to see him so cordial. Maybe after the last argument we had because of the incident with the ammunition he had ordered me to keep in my house, he was trying to be nicer. It was the least he could do. That day, after Alfonso set the garden on fire and my family was almost blown to pieces, I went straight to him not with the intention of having an amenable chat. In fact, that day, two guards prevented me from strangling the man.

\- I need to talk to Elías but I don't even know if he is still in the army.

\- Wait a minute, let me make a call.

I don't know who did he speak with but after hanging up, he only had to wait a few minutes before the phone rang again.

\- Well, here it is, you can speak to him.

\- Elias, is that you? How is everything? I have to be brief, you know my whereabouts. Look, I need you to give me Pilar's phone. Yeah, that's right, Pilar's phone. No, not a party, I have enough with my wife...!

What a character! I don't know how many years they'd been going out. I told him repeatedly to marry her, but nothing, he wanted to continue a free man. Then, when I askedfor Pilar's phone to discuss the issue of the recommendation he asks me if I want to invite her to dance. I felt immediately compelled to go on with his joke but we are no longer kids...

As soon as I got home that afternoon I called Elias' girlfriend. I explained the situation and she told me not to worry, that as soon as she had news, she'll came me again. The four of us used to go out together quite a lot. We had a really good time on Sundays going to the cinema, having a walk in the park and occasionally going out to dinner at a restaurant, although that was something we could not always afford. I remember it like it was yesterday, we had thousand and one adventures together, especially in the early months, when we had just entered the army. Elías was one of my best friends there. When you're young, friendship is one of your first priorities but as life goes on, onestarts to focus on otherthings. After being transferred to different places and especially, after the birth of my children, the chances we had to see each other decreased considerably.

Three days went by without any news, then, one evening, the doorbell rang at home. Pilar had come to see us. As soon as she entered, she gave me a letter of recommendation. Who would have thought? I certainly never imagined I would get a recommendation to join Iberia. Things looked slightly better. Let's just see what that little insolent man in Admissions had to say now.

We convinced Pilar to stay for dinnerand we talked a lot about life's many twists and turns, we remembered the good times and also talked about the future.

\- What is Elías planning on doing? Does he want to continue with a military career? You could also get him to join the company...

I said this without thinking but I immediately noticed Pilar's frown. Of course, he was still terrified of flying and apparently, that's why he requested to be transferred. For him, a position as laborious as that of a quartermaster was, in fact, a blessing. Any job which, did not require him to take his feet off the ground was a good thing.

That morning I walked firmly and resolutely back to the Iberia office. From the end of the corridor I was able to distinguish the withered and curved silhouette of the old man in charge. I smiled to myself, thinking about the surprise he was going to get when he saw me again, especially the letter that I bring –that is, if he has not been warned before by phone.

\- A very good day to you sir, - I emphasised this time, aware of his sour personality.

He looked at me with indifference, almost as if he had not heard me. After spending a few seconds heaping piles of folders which, they were surely reports, he left his desk andcame towards me.

\- You seem to be quite persistent but I already told you that you've come two years too late.

\- Look, I have a recommendation. You said...

The man must have been mad at the world. In my entire life, I had not seen a person as bitter as this. Perhaps his wife was cheating on him or maybe his mother-in-law lived at home with them? Some people seem to be angry since childhood- could it be that the first day of school his teacher had reprimanded and embarrassed him in front of all the other children. Either way, I was the one having to deal with him now.

\- It seems that you bring a good recommendation, so I have no choice but to collect your application.

He gathered all the documents, kept them in a cardboard folder and laid them in the top shelf of the bookcase behind him.

\- Well, there you go. I've done my part, I have admitted the application, so now you can leave.

That didn't feel right. Again I was facing an uphill battle. It doesn't matter how smart you are, how much experience you have, or whether you have an impeccable resume - if you are nota friend of the person in charge, there is nothing to do. Elías went through all the trouble of asking Pilar for a big favour and all for nothing. Surely the general called the aviation department, but as the man had said, he had done his job, admitted my request and placed it on the top shelf for it to remain there until the end of time. I had no choice but to continue with my day to day life. However, since I'm not one to give up easily, every week I visited the ministry to inform me of the next calls. A couple of years went by but one day I found out that finally, they were calling for new positions. I put my name down for the examination and, once again I submitted all the necessary documentation, and again I had to see the bitter clerk, who immediately recognised me. This time he collected the forms without a question. It appeared that more than one person had filed a complaint about his attitude but it was clear he must have been the cousin of someone very important because they had not transferred him anywhere else.

I had not sat for an examination for a while and I felt nervous that morning at the breakfast table. I knew I was well prepared, I was surely one of the most qualified persons for that position. Fortunately, although the test was conducted in the same ministry, the person in charge of admissions no longer had anything to do with the process. There were over one hundred applicants and just four positions and while I was rather nervous, I also felt confident. Once we were seated at our desks and we were given the questionnaire, I felt completely relaxed because most of the questions were mathematical problems and navigation -my specialty. I focused on the questions and spend a few good hours finishing them. Many had already submitted the paper, some had even left all the questions blank. Others however, were still trying to fill them all in with whatever came to their mind, hoping for some divine inspiration to make its appearance.

The days after the test I was very nervous, always hoping for the notification to arrive but no matter how much I waited for the postman, he always arrived empty-handed. I had the keys of the mailbox handy at all times and every time I saw him pass by, I opened it expecting to find a letter from the ministry. My wife was tired of hearing me ask for the postman. After the first month, I went to the post office to ask if I had been sent a notice of some sort but nothing, there was nothing. This wasn't right. It was clear that there was something fishy. I went back to the ministry and once again I had to face that sinister character.

\- I sat for the last set of exams and I have yet to receive any news.

\- Let's see. Your last nameis Nuñez, right? Yes, I have it here. You passed the exam with the highest score but since you provided no documentation, it was discarded.

\- What do you mean I did not submit any documentation? I gave it to you personally!

\- That's what you seem to say but we have no documents here that prove it. Do you have any proof of submission?

\- No, I don't have any proof.

\- Well, then do not bother, I'm telling you, you gave me nothing.

But what the hell had I done to that pitiful soul? Not sure why some people seem to have it sworn against you even before meeting you. He was making my life and my family's very difficult and simply because he did not like me right from the start. Maybe because I had wished him a good day too emphatically? I held back and breathed deeply because all I wanted to do was to grab him by the throat. But that would not have solved anything, in fact it would have probably worsened things. It was his word against mine and I would most likely end up arrested and taken to the police station. Then I had an idea:

\- Please, I would like to talk to your superior.

\- I've told you not to waste my time any more...

\- It's my right and I demand to speak to your superior.

\- Alright, alright, you don't need to get mad.

He agreed knowing only too well that his boss would agree with him and I would end up looking like a fool.

He made a phone call and then an older man withgrey hair and moustacheappeared.

\- Very good morning. What seems to be the problem?

I immediately saw that he was an intelligent and perceptive person. The little man changed his attitude and behaved submissively, like a worm. He tried to argue that I had not submitted ant documentation. He knew that it was his word against mine, and certainly it seemed he had the upper hand. The supervisor talked to me politely but in a dismal tone, almost as though he was giving me his condolences.

\- I'm sorry Mr. Nuñez but we have no documentation and no evidence that you had delivered it.

And then, a little lightbulb with an idea went off in my head:

\- Could you please have a look at the shelf?

The manager was rummaging through the documents, laughing to himself, knowing full well that he had gotten rid of the documentation.

\- Look in that reddish folder, I think that's mine - I said pointing at the top shelf where the old documents were left several years ago.

He opened the folder and his face went white- he no longer remembered all those papers. When he saw them he became paralysed.

The manager snatched it from his hands and reviewed it quickly.

\- Well, it seems that everything is in order. Mr. Nuñez you are now an employee of Iberia - then, he sealed the documents and handed me the certificate of approval.

I left feeling so elated that I wanted to jump up and climb the walls of the ministry. But before leaving the office I heard the chief rebuking the manager, calling him incompetent and saying that even if he could not leave him jobless, he would surely change his current position for that of a concierge.

9

Without a doubt, the fifties and the sixties were some of the most glamorous years in the history of aviation - all planes manufactured then were simply stunning pieces of machinery. Iberia used the DC-3 for domestic flights, a beautiful plane thatI always loved to fly. The crews were incredible - the Spanish hostesses were the most prepared, the most beautiful and the most intelligent. They were truly la crème de la crème. Attentive, educated and sophisticated, it took them no more than two months to find a suitor. No, they were not the ones seeking out marriage - it was the men. After all, what else could a man want?Apart from all those attributes, they had been carefully selected and most of them came from really good families. For me, however, there was no one like my Conchita – she wasas pretty as they come.

Those were wonderful days! I was in love with those shiny aluminium machines that seemed to gain a life of their own with those old piston engines and huge propellers. They accelerated with nerve and fury like thoroughbreds. In those days, flying was an art, one had to put aside all mathematical calculations and let the instinct guide you. There were no electronic controls, assisted navigation or computers, and you had to rely on the machine when flying at night or in the clouds. When travelling through a storm we had to put our faith in those hand-made aluminium panels. Often, if not always, if we found ourselves in difficulties, it was generally due to human pride, toour recklessness of wanting to challenge Mother Nature. I remember when I had only performed a few flights, during a trip from Madrid to Valencia which, used to take about one hour and a half with the DC-3 - about the same amount of timetaken by today's high-speed trains. Before we took off we were warned by radio about the potential of a strong storm. The pilot decided to take off anyway. It's fair to say that when man decides to defy the elements, chances are he'll lose. Halfway through the flight our visibility decreased drastically, the day became black as pitchand lightning strike either side of the plane. I immediately remembered that Heinkel flight that almost cost us our lives. It had been years since that episode but I could still recall that very unique feeling.As though all that time I had remained caught in the same storm, as if we had never left it behind, as if we had never managed to land. The pilot was very nervous and began to lose his temper.

\- I shouldn't have taken off, I shouldn't have.

\- That's over now. Please focus on driving the machine.

We had been flying for more than two hours and we did not know where we were. I started to radio for help and suddenly something very strange happened - among all the racket and the noise of the storm I began receiving a radio signal. The checkpoint in Albacete identified itself. Was it possible? Again that same checkpoint that got us out of the storm almost ten years ago. It was incredible. The transmission said it had located us on the radar, to continue heading east and in twenty minutes will find our way out of the storm. The winds were so strong that even at full power the plane could barely move. It took us over three hours to cover the distance. As we escaped the storm the sun shone again, and suddenly I felt ten years younger again. I knew then that the storm would always be there, waiting.

10

You always remember your first day as something special but the truth is that my first day in the company was nothing exciting. I hadstarted travelling on domestic flights: Madrid - Barcelona, Madrid - La Coruña... Accustomed to my old crazy crew in the Group 14, this was wonderful. Besides, the Caravelle was a formidable aircraft, many drivers used to say it was like a protective, caring mother - and they were right. Consideringthe limited technical resources we had in those days and how often we flew in adverse weather conditions, that docile airplane was all that returned us safely to our families. Although the AirCometwas supposed to be launched soon, the idea never took off the ground. The Caravelle, by contrast, was modern, comfortable, versatile and easy to ride. One of the most famous tests done in advertisements was to put a glass full of champagne on one of the folding tables and watch it not spill a drop throughout the flight. The vibrations in the older aircraft's engine would have splashed the entire plane with liquor.

In the army it was more common to stay in a group or company. Here, however, you never knew which pilot you were going to fly with. I had been working as a co-pilot for Iberia for about a year, maybe more, when Ireported early one morning for duties - something not at all unusual. I boarded the Caravelle, I entered the cabin while still empty and I sat in my allocated place. Then came the rest of the crew. Well, everyone except the pilot. The passengers boarded but we were still awaiting for the arrival of the pilot. After we were warned several times by the control tower, the commander appeared cool as a cucumber. I could not believe my eyes.

\- Nuñez, but what are you doing here!

\- I could ask the same question! Don't tell me you're the pilot? When did you get your license?

It was Ramirez. The truth is I don't know why I was surprised. There was no question in my mind as to how he managed to get the license and how he got a position in the company. What I failed to understand is why they had not given him a cosy job in one of the ministry's offices.

That wasn't a good start and the delay was to be only the beginning. The truth is that seeing him take off, I began to fear for my life. It's one of the things I still don't quite understand. He might have been a friendly guy, he might have had connections but he was a hopeless pilot. How did someone risk issuing a flying license to this character is beyond me. It was not a postman's job. If a postman messes up some of the letters and they end up not reaching their destination is not the end of the world. However, piloting an aircraft not only endangered the life of all occupants but also the life of all the residents of the towns we flew over.

I practically had to take the plane to La Coruña, although Ramirez seemed annoyed every time I touched the controls. He was hesitant, thinking, without really knowing what switch he shouldoperate.

\- No worries Nuñez, I'll take care of this baby!

That was the scariest part for me ... Luckily the flight was short and we started the approach manoeuvre in no time. That day the weather was pretty poorin Galicia - a storm was coming from the north of the peninsula, the visibility was terrible, especially near the airport. It seemed as if a cloud - white and dense -, decided to remain stuck in that area.

\- I will approach at low altitude.

\- There are no visual references, I don't think that's the way to go about it.

He totally ignored my comment and began descending. Thefog engulfed us completely.

\- The estuary must surely be around here - once I find it, I will go fly towards the airport.

\- We're flying at very low altitude. Have you taken into account there are a lot of mountains around here?

\- Don't be a nag, Nuñez, I can land this thing blindfolded.

We made a first approximation and there was no trace of the estuary, much less of the airport. But Ramirez stood his ground. The man was insane. Back to square one and this time he flew even lower. If we continued lowering the plane at this rate, it was clear that we would touch ground - well, ground or sea or whatever it was we would crash against. By the third round Ramirez began to lose confidence, it was clear that if we continued flying at such low altitude in a fog we'll end up collidingagainst something. I don't know how many planes were flying around that same area on that day or how close we were to crash into any of them. As people often say, on this occasion, the Virgin Mary guided us.

\- We need to ascend and ask permission to land in Santiago now.

If I would not have said these words authoritatively and sounding as though I wanted to punch him in the nose, he would have continued spinning in circles until the plane crashed. We managed to survive this one but this is how most accidents happen. This is exactly how a tired or inexperienced pilot makes a mistake and the rest of the crew is unwilling to challenge his authority. There have been cases of pilots who have crashed for not being able to ask permission to perform an emergency landing on a runway. Specifically, a flight from a Malaysia airliner - the commander couldn't speak English very well and, arriving at an American airport without a drop of fuel in the tanks, he asked the controller for a runway. The answer? Wait for your turn as everyone else. The pilot tried to communicate that the plane was about to run out of fuel. The traffic controller, who imagined he had several hours' worth of fuel, orderedhim to fly around and the pilot, instead of insisting, awaitedhis turn. Then tragedy struck.

I returned to Madrid with another crew. As we landed I reported what happened, not because I had a bad relationship with Ramirez, rather as a favour and to prevent a potential disaster. He was a man with connections, one of the most important things in this country. Unfortunately, whom you know matters more than your attitude. That night, when I was about to go to bed, the phone rang. It was the director of civil aviation in person. He asked me if I was sure of what I had reported. If I corroborated the report I would have to show myself up the next day before him.

\- You only have to ask the rest of the crew, not to mention thepassengers...

Well then, the next morning at nine o'clock I was in the principal's office door, and soon after came Ramirez. The evidence was overwhelming. In addition, there was the report of the control tower in La Coruña, where they recorded five attempts at landing. Anyway, Ramirez didn't care at all, he was used to getting his way, and if not he'd talk to his father so he could remedy the issue. The man who was questioning him, the manager, was the same man that stamped my application to join the company. When he finished, and we were both about to leave, he said:

\- Nuñez, stay a moment.

I stopped and stood right in front of the solid wood table that served as a desk. The documents remained stacked neatly arranged on either side. The man looked me straight in the eyes. For a moment I thought thatRamirez' connections reached all the way to the top and that I would now be given a reprimand.

\- You've done the right thing. I do not know who Ramirez's father is nor do I care. If someone is not a good pilot, they should look for another job.

\- He is still young, perhaps with a little training...

\- No, we both know that he can't perform and it's better for him and for everyone else that he leavesasap.

When I presented my report, I did it because it is mandatory. I could not have lied when the entire crew knew what had happened. Besides, there was the additional data from the control tower. I never imagined they would fire him – demote him to co-pilotfor a while to learn alongside more experienced pilots, but what thedirector had said was true - Ramirez would never learn to fly a plane properly.

11

We spent a lot of time training for each job, for each aircraft and even for each particular model - there was always a refresher course or another to enrol in. I got into the habit of using the plans and manuals for each new aircraft to wallpaper my home, literally. My wife used to get really mad because it left it all full of pin holes but it was the best possible way to become familiarised with the new systems. This way, I could study all the information from the minute I opened my eyes every day until I went to bed. The DC-10 was one of the most modern airplanes, a giant leap over theCaravelle -only the Boeing 747 Jumbo was more sophisticated than the DC-10.I had flown thousands of hours on this magnificent aircraft and now I was asked to sit for a test on it. Still, like always, I prepared myself the best I could. The course took place in Rome. It was always the same \- those with connections in the ministry ended up being the instructors because they got paid a really handsome salary.

Most pilots were late, as always -they couldn't care less. The instructor was not very well versed in the subject and started with a practical class. I had to correct him in more than one occasion and tempers began to heat up. Finally, to avoid ending up in trouble, I decided to get out of the class. The man wanted to give me lessons on the avionics of the DC-10 - Me! After I had been staring at all its diagrams for months! Surely I knew almost as much as the same aircraft manufacturer but some people just don't want to hear the truth. So I took off and went to the cafeteria. I had a pretty bad week. A few days ago my mother had passed away and I had no desire to engage in absurd discussions.

There I met a group of Englishmen, and just to reminisce on the old days, I invited them to a round of drinks in exchange for some light conversation.

- Would you accept me a beer? I like to practice my English \- the group of executives laughed.

\- Sure, why not, sit down.

\- What do you do?

- Am pilot in Iberia?

\- Ah! Very well, we are heading to Rota today and then, after doing some adjustments, we'll land in Madrid where we'll have some free time. What would you recommend we do there?

- Well, you could take a taxi and come closer to see the Prado.

\- And what kind of plane do you fly?

- I fly the DC-10

\- What navigator do you use?

- The DC-10 incorporates the Liton 72, inertial navigation.

\- No, that's not possible, you must be confused, it cannot use the Liton 72.

- I'm studying right now so I'm 100% sure.

\- Look, we are the manufacturers and I can tell you that no commercial plane carries the Liton 72.

- But I'm telling you that the new aircrafts bought by Iberia incorporate the Liton 72.

They were dumbfounded. They insisted what I was saying was impossible.

- But what do you mean it's impossible? I have been flying them and I have all the manuals at home!

They looked at each other and one of them stood up throwing his hands to his head in disbelief. They did not want to talk about it anymore and I was left with a big question mark on my head. I had the feeling I was making up all of that. Just a couple of days later, the new models were sent to revision and the navigation device disappeared from all of them. Years later we learned that this was a top secret system, an inventive new system designed by the British, only available in some of their military aircraft. Apparently a manufacturer's error hadfurnished these Iberia aircraft with a British top-secret device.

12

Crossing the Atlantic Ocean was always quite an undertaking. Although we virtually used the autopilot to fly the plane, I was always particularly attentive to all parameters marked by the indicators. I know of many crews who made the journey in dreamland. That's right. As incredible as it may seem, the entire crew slept for hours, hoping that the aircraft and its computers would do all the work. In all my years of service either as co-pilot or as commander, I've personally never slept during working hours.

Winter in Toronto was very hard. Many pilots that flew to that destination during this seasons, they didn't even get off the plane. They waited for the aircraft to be refuelled and some of them even spent the night inside. I used to go shopping. At that time of the year, during the Christmas season, the city was beautiful. One of our crew members bought a huge turkey - it was so big that we couldn't fit it in the refrigerator. Fortunately in Canada this was not a problem as we just simply had to hang it out the window. In the city centre there was an ice rink, and I went to see the amazing stunts performed by some of these very skilful Canadian skaters. Watching them glide over the ice you just felt like renting a pair of skates and trying your luck but I remembered how bad I was at riding the commander's old bicycle so I just presumed I would have needed a lot more balance for this. The city was decorated with thousands of coloured lights and Christmas decorations. After walking until late at night I decided to go back to the hotel to rest for a while before the return trip. The truth is that the jet lag made it hard for me to sleepbut I needed to put my feet up for a bit.

The phone rang. I picked up the device and the receptionist told me it was time to board. I took a quick shower, put the impressive navy blue uniform with golden buttons on and left for the airport. The air was icy, cold and sharp, the overcast sky concealed the sun. It was a bad day to fly but I couldn't wait to leave behind the ice and snow storm that was forecast. The weather service warned that probably within a few hours the airport services would not be operational. I was hoping that all the crew boarded on time.

I performed a visual check of the aircraft. I started by the tail, although the enormity of the Jumbo made it difficult to appreciate the finedetails. After checking the entire plane I certified that everything was in order. The machinehad just been washed with antifreeze liquid but the low temperatures that day meant that once we started to gain altitude ice sheets would soon develop. Once inside I felt at home. The Boeing 747's cabin was huge compared with the first military aircraft in which I flew. The entire crew was in their posts and the last passenger came on board. One of the hostesses closed the door and the boarding bridge was automatically removed. I was given clearance to taxi to the runway threshold over the radio. Then the stewardess proceeded to give passengers the usual safety explanations first in English, then in French and finally in Spanish. I stopped the aircraft by the departure marks. A final check of all indicators. The co-pilot is responsible for reviewing the operating quadrants as we await for the confirmation to take-off from the control tower. At this time all the crew except for the flight attendants were in the cabin- they remain in a space immediately behind the passengers, separated by curtains. The take-off is one of the most delicate manoeuvres. It is essential to maintain maximum focus because any little mistake can cause a catastrophe. If the aircraft does not reach sufficient speed, if the engine fails to deliver full power, if the lift flaps and slats are not in the correct position, the aircraft may have trouble gaining altitude, and at this height, making an emergency landing would be really problematic. The aviation regulation requires the crew to remain in total silence during take-off because we all remain vigilant staring at the indicators and at the slightest evidence that something is wrong the take-off can quickly be aborted. For this reason, depending on the aircraft and the length of the track, a maximum distance is provided. Once passed this point we must take-off regardless of what happens as it would be impossible to stop the aircraft safely.

- India, bravo, flight: eight, eight, nine, one has permission to take off - Flight IB 8891 has permission to take off.

- Flight: India, bravo, eight, eight, nine, one, initiating take-off. - Flight IB 8891 initiating take-off manoeuvre.

I gently flipped the four small throttles which, together, formed the accelerator. The turbines began to suck air slowly, their whistle becoming more acute. As they reached full power, I unlocked the wheels and the huge Jumbo began the take-off. There was absolute silence in the cabin, nobody said anything while we were focusing on the indicators. During the first metres,the acceleration was lowbut once we started progressing, we soon exceed one hundred miles per hour. We were about to pass the point of no return, then I started to pull the controls towards me gently.

\- The turkey, the turkey!

Rodrigo screamed in my right ear. I did not know what was happening - for a moment the panic spread in the cabin. I pulled the throttle and the engine lost power immediately. The situation was critical, because we had just passed the emergency threshold – if I aborted take-off now it could mean skidding off the runway with the tank full ofkerosene...

Gonzalo, the co-pilot, was triggering all the switches according to the manual, trying to stop the 747 in the shortest possible space. I tried to guide him but the end of the runway was fast approaching. I stepped theright foot pedal all the way in and the plane turned sharply towards the edge of the asphalt, Then, I did the same with the other leg. By zigzagging the aircraft's movements, I managed to increase the length of the runway and the machine lost speed. The plain stopped as it stepped over the latest paint stripes. Some of the passengers were vomiting and a man suffered a panic attack.

\- What, what happened? I asked, still terrified.

Rodrigo stood pale and speechless, his eyes downcast and without being able to utter a word.

\- Well Rodrigo, do you want to tell us what happened?

\- You see, I forgot the turkey in the window.

\- The turkey in the window? I'll kill you, someone hold on tight to me or I'll kill you - shouted Gonzalo.

13

Believe it or not but the traffic between America and Europe is so intense that veryoften, traffic jams occur in the sky. There are aircrafts continually taking off and the air traffic controllers are responsible for getting us out of their airspace safely in a straight line. After that, as we are flying over the ocean, we make sure to keep our speed and altitude in order to respect the distance between us and the plane that precedes us and the one that follows us. On a clear day you can see part of the convoy and at night sometimesyou can observe the sidelights of other aircraft. With that much air traffic is not surprising that some people believe to have seen lights in the sky butwe'll leave the subject of UFOs for another time, because, having spent so much time up there I have plenty of stories to tell.

We took off from the International Airport of Mexico City "Benito Juarez".Back then it was called something else but since its construction it had undergone several renovations and expansions annexing new land and the old nearby military airfield. Soon, it became knownas the Mexico City Airport. We positioned ourselves on our imaginary road, following anAeromexico plane. These highways were not only designed to organise air traffic. Bear in mind that once we took off we distanced ourselves from the airport to enter international waters – at that point we were alone. We were only a small dot in the sky hovering somewhere in the vast ocean. Another reason is that the sky has currents that are comparable to the rivers on the ground - streams of air that are formed at different heights. We have taken a lot of time and effort to even begin to understand them. The first aircrafts used to inadvertently enter the currentknown as "The Jet". As they flew into it, they experienced a sudden jolt, more or less violent depending on their flying speed. What had happened? You see, in those days we had to guide ourselves using a map and a compass - there were no beacons nor GPS devices. I remember when I started flying as a radio navigator and had to try to figure out where the plane was located based on the strength of the radio broadcasts I received. The thing is, when the planes entered The Jet, sometimes they did towards the south and others towards the north. If met head on the plane could barely move but the crew had no clue they were not advancing as the sea below providedno visual references. In most cases, they ended diving into the water after exhausting all their fuel.On the other hand, those who flew from the other side, if they were lucky, managed to reach their destination in half the expected time – that is,if they didn't cross the continent from one side to the other and ended up in the water anyway.

It was a very clear night and I could see perfectly well the position lights of the Aeromexico Boeing 747. In a few hours it began to dawn and the sun occasionally reflected in its aluminium fuselage, making it shine like a star. When we flew over Spain we started to make our descent. The Mexicans did the same but a few kilometres from Barajas Airport, they made an unexpected turn. We saw the huge Jumbo turn around three hundred and sixty degrees and fly past at only a few hundred metres from our left wing. As it was our duty, we notified the traffic control tower of what happened and they immediately began to call the Aeromexico plane. We landed without incident in Madrid, and as soon as I touched ground I went straight to ask what had happened fearing that the plane had suffered a breakdown and crashed. The Aeromexico supervisor appeared before me, his terrified face framed by his black jacket and green tie.

\- Have you submitted a written report already?

\- No, I haven't had time yet.

He took a deep breath trying to calm himself down, exhaled slowly, inspired again and gasped:

\- Sometimes things happen that are better left between us, you know what I mean, things that can happen to any of us and the general public will never be able to comprehend. Sometimes it's one's turn, sometimes it's another's.

\- If you are trying to convince me not to submit a report, you need not worry, everything has been recorded by the control tower, I have no say in this matter.

I left the airport without learning what happened. It was clear that the plane had not crashed otherwise by now there would be news reports everywhere in the media. Since I was intrigued by the event because a plane does not disappear in mid-air just like that without anyone knowing anything, I called the ministry of aviation. I spoke to the deputy who informed me of what had happened - the entire crew of the Aeromexico flight had fallen asleep. They had a big night before boarding the next day. Once theyreached their destination the autopilot launched the auto-tracking and the plane began to make the route in the opposite direction. Luckily the call from the control tower awakened them before a tragedy could happen because they could have collided with another aircraft head on and in the best of cases, ran out of fuel, ending at sea like the early aviators.

14

Many of the pilots didn't even get off the plane when they were in a foreign country, they often spent long hours quietly inside the plane. The truth is that there we had everything we needed - good food and drinks, music, television and air conditioning. I have always been intrigued by things around me. I guess this was the result of having to visit so many different villages with my father as a child. So even when we only had a few hours I made an effort to visitplaces we had landed into. I was very interested in indigenous cultures, especially their crafts and given that we had permission to take presents on the plane, I always returned with a new piece. Over the years I managed to form a pretty good collection of fascinating objects. Most of them were only useless nick nacks I bought to lend the craftsmen a hand. I have always been of the opinion that it's better to offer someone the opportunity to work so that they can make a living than giving them alms. In the end, I used to strike up a friendship with many of those artists. I remember the case of a young man crafting some woodcarvings- as soon as I saw his work I knew how good he was but the man did not even have enough to eat, and hunger forced him to sell his tools. I paid in advance for a bust made of ebony, a large piece of one metre by one twenty. I showed him the picture of my wife and he did a great job. I still have it in my living room. I knew this young man had potential, that he was a good person, hardworking and a formidable artist. I ordered several other works, and gave them to family and friends, they were portraits of an extremely high quality. He could reproducethe classics as well as any other person. I told everyone about Augustín and gradually he received more and more orders. Years passed and one day I received a letter from him thanking me for everything and invited me to visit his home whenever I wanted. He had become a successful artist, his business had gone so well that he first had to buy a small place to work, then he moved on to bigger one and soon after he opened an academy.

Another interesting occurrence during my travels was the day I met a musician in Alicante. He was a singer songwriter, he used to compose the lyrics and the music of the songs he played. Although he was really good, things had not gone well for him. He decided to go on a European adventure almost without funds. As soon as he landed in the old continent, he realised that it was going to be very difficult, if not impossible, to gain access to the record labels. The little savings he had ended in no time and he was forced to bask in the streets to earn some cash. I realised immediatelythat Jorge was a great musician and a great person. We talked at length andafter that I invited him to lunch at a restaurant.

\- Look, I'm not exactly rich but things are going pretty well. As I know you will not accept a gift, I'll give you a loan.

I signed a check, it wasn't too much but enough for him to eat hot meals and sleep in a hotel for a few days. That was that. Six years later we were travelling around Venezuela with my family and had dinner in one of the hottest clubs in town, a stunning venue where you could taste scrumptious dishes while listening to live music. When I prepared to pay,I received a hundred dollar bill from the waiter instead of the bill. He then said:

\- It's on the house, you are invited to come back whenever you want. He asked me to tell you that this payment was long overdue.

I looked behind me and I saw Jorge heading toward me. I shook his hand and he gave me a very affectionate hug.

\- You've got fatter Jorge, it seems things are going your way.

\- I cannot complain. Since we talked that day in Spain, my luck began to change. I didn't succeed as a singer but I was luckier as a composer and later I started a chain of restaurants offering good food and live music. You see, I cannot complain.

Everyone has to overcometrying times. Some, get stuck in them for years and all they need is a little push, someone to help them review their flight path.

15

Since I was assigned to the Jumbo I was constantly flying to America, from the North to the South Pole. So when my wife had a few days off, I decided to take her to Guatemala. It would be fair to say that at that time all there was in that country was mountains and trees. They had recently discovered the pyramids in the jungle and since I know Conchitais as fascinated by these things as I am, I decided to take her there. The airport was practically a piece of cement and a few shacks. Most people can't imagine the places a 747had to land on. You left the modern airports in the West, with their control towers andtheir highly sophisticated computer systems to land in the heart of a jungle, in some half paved runway and four thatched huts that functioned as airports.

Once in Guatemala, and after a long journey, we were exhausted so we decided to look for a hotel right away. This is what's often referred to as adventure travel. I never really enjoyed organised tours with irritating guides constantly telling you where you should and should not look, when you have to stop and even when and where you have to eat and pee. I prefer to reach the destination, mingle with the locals, go for a drink at a cafe and seek advice from people that I encounter along the way. I find this to be the best way to get to know sites that are a lot more interesting than those listed in the guidebooks. It was precisely because of this that we came to stay at the Hotel Castell, a beautiful building,formerlythe palace of one of the landowner's of the area. We were welcomed at reception, then passed by a beautiful central courtyard, a stunning tropical garden and finally escorted to our room. Everything seemed to be going swimmingly - the decor was fantastic and our bed extremely comfortable. We were so exhausted from the trip that in a few secondswe wereasleep although Ihave always slept with an open eye since my years in the military. I suddenlyheard something in the hallway. It was a ghostly voice, as if coming from beyond the grave. The first time I heard it I thought it was my imagination, but then it repeated itself again. Then my wife was awakened by the voice.

\- Did you hear that? It seems that is coming from the hall - she said as she covered her face with the blanket quickly.

\- Who is going to be walking down the corridor at this time?

It was two in the morning and up until then I had not heard any steps. I got goose bumps as I heard the voice call for someone. I still could not hear any steps. Then it stopped near our door and began to raise the pitch.

\- Enough, this is no time to walk making such a racket - I said quite angrily as I opened the door, peering into the hall to see who it was.

The dark of the night formed grotesque shadows on either side of the corridor but I could not see anyone. Then someone talked to me very closely, I crossed the hall in a bounce and pressed the light switch. The corridor was lit and it was when I realised that there was no one there that I really felt scared. Could it really be a ghost? Who would have previously lived in that big house? I left the light on and went back to bed.

\- Was it someone from the hotel?

\- Yes, I think it was one of the boys from the hotel who must have been drunk, - I answered my wife so she could sleep in peace.

The next morningwhileConchita was reading in the room, I went to the hotel owner to ask about the incident. He told me that indeed several employees claimed to have seen ghosts. Apparently many years ago a tragic event claimed the lives of a young man and it was said that since then he roams around the halls of the mansion. And this was the best hotel in town, if not the only one? We would spend one more night and then we'd leave - I don't think the ghost had anything against us.

The visit to the ancient pyramids gave me a lot to think about. If our civilisation was to extinguish, I don't think there would be too much to behold. These solid stone pyramids were thousands of years old and could last many thousands more, however, I don't believe our cement or brick construction would be leaving too many clues for future archaeologists. All this made me think about how ephemeral we human beings are, that a lifetime is very short and that it is very easy for our history to be forgotten in time. Again, the topic of wandering spirits came to mind when we returned to the hotel. We had travelled far and were exhausted, so we went straight to bed. I fell asleep right away, my wife lay awake, reading a book that talked about the old buildings we visited. Then, the sharp pain caused by an elbow piercing into my ribs awoke me.

\- Wake up, wake up, I think there's someone at the door!

We kept silent and suddenly heard the voice again. This time, it was clearly calling my name. The phantasm called me repeatedly over and over again. I've never been afraid of anything in this world but here I was faced with something that wasn't from this world. I put on my robe and I steeled myself to go out into the hallway. I opened the door cautiously and peered through the crack. The darkness stretched across the corridor. The light switch was about two metres' across the hall. I took a breath and rushed to try to illuminate the room as soon as possible. As I was leaving the room I heard the voice say my name, a few metres into the dark. My hairs were raised like wires and my heart beat uncontrollably. The light bulb went on but far from feeling relieved, the dread I was feeling deepened after not seeing anyone in the corridor. I looked carefully either side but found nothing. Then, that ghastly voice again. This time I was able to locate it. It was definitely coming from the patio. Well, it was time to stand up to that ghost. As it is often said, once you face a ghost and get to know it well, it can even become your best companion. I again heard the noise and saw a huge parrot perched on the branch of a tree, I stared at it and it said:

\- Alfonso, Alfonso, Alfonso.

That tiny feathered animal was the famous ghost who had been terrorising the entire hotel.

16

Many years had gone since I had been on duty in the Canarian Island. Where would good old Tim be right now? Would he still be roaming around the Seven Seas on his boat? No, surely not. He would have probably retired by now and maybe he would have finally found some time to spend with his family. Well, either way, I always thought of Tim when a friend or relative asked me for a gift. After travelling to Cuba so often I had many acquaintances there and their relatives used to ask me to carry a gift or another for them. I always advised them to send them silk stockings. Not only were they one ofthe most valuable items you could give a woman, they were also very light and could be taken through customs without arousing any suspicions. I remember once when Paul asked me for some shoes for his girlfriend Alejandra. Paul was a Cuban with Spanish grandparents who used to go out with a tall, slender mulata. They were both excellent dancers, something not at all uncommon in the island where the majority of young people are capable of dancing as well any professional dancer would elsewhere. She had a size thirtyseven and with the heels, the shoes took up quite a lot of space. Thingswere getting increasingly difficult in the island and at this point they only let us go through with our hand luggage which, they opened anyway, to make sure we didn't carry any contraband. I had to figure out a place where the shoes would not attract any attention so I thought it best to put them in full view of the officers. I passed right in front of the customs guard and he was completely unfazed. I bent my arm at a right angleand carried the shoes on my hand covered with my hat and tried to walk around the airportwith as much swagger as I could muster.

I met Pablito by chance. I caught a taxi from the airport to the hotel, and he was the driver. The car, a beautiful cherry Cadillac, had belonged to his father. Like most islanders Pablo (or Pablito affectionately) was very open and talkative provided you did not mention any political issues. In that case, he remained silent and started chanting communist slogans. It was hard to see people hiding beneath that facade. I told Pablito that it was my first visit to Havana and that the next day I would like to visit its sites, so of course, he offered his services as a guide. Like most Cubans back then, he was blatantly opportunistic – it wasn't greed, it was just pure survival instinct. Everything was being rationed in Cuba and unfortunately it doesn't matter whether it is a communist or a capitalist system, the portions are always larger for those closer to power. It is true worldwide that those who divide get the lion's share. To make matters worse, all businesses were controlled by the government. Traders or workers like Pablito who provided services to tourists were intensely monitored. Many cigars sellers or occasional tourist guides had ended up in prison, because according to the party, these were capitalist practices.

At nine o'clock, after a good breakfast in the cafeteria, Pablito picked me up at the door and we started our tour. Gradually, the adobe walls he had put up started to crumble and you could being to see the person hiding behind them. By ten o'clock, the heat feltvery oppressive. I had to spend all day drinking to prevent becoming dehydrated. Both the places and the people in Havana were very picturesque. We entered a narrow street where the buildings looked derelict and the paint on the walls peeling off in flakes.

\- Is there anything interesting to do around here?

\- Sorry compadre, it will only be a moment, I have to take my old lady to a doctor's check-up. It will only take a moment.

He parked the Cadillac in front of a two storey block painted in pink. On the street a group of kids played baseball with a makeshift bat and ball. It was amazing. Surely the strangest thing about this city is that life swarmed everywhere but I had been told that the night was even more spectacular, although I was now too old to go out partying. The youngest members of my crew certainly didn't share my feelings and that's why I always had to visit the tourist sites on my own - they practiced another type of tourism, hoping from night club to night club throughoutthe nightand sleeping during the day.

\- My mom is coming down now – Pablito said.

\- Ah, you must be the famous pilot! My son has told me all about you. Your job is very important. The people of Cubawill always be grateful to you - she must have thought I was a famous person. It's normal, your head starts to give way when you get old but I really had no idea what this lady was talking about.

It was a thin old woman with white and curly hair. She must have had Pablo at quite an advanced age becauseshe looked as though she was over eighty years old. Time had wrinkled her face, discoloured her hair and bent her back but one could still see that she would have been a beautiful woman.

Pablito walked her to the other side of the car and opened the passenger door but she grabbed the handle of the back door, opened it and sat beside me.

\- I want to talk to you ... this is a safe place. In Cuba even the coconuts have ears. You must be very brave to do your job.

\- It's not that bad, the aviation has come a long way, and there is very little risk involved.

\- You are too modest, you know I am not talking about airplanes.

\- Mamita, how many times do I have to tell you not to bother our guests?

\- It doesn't matter, in fact I think this trip will be more fun than I imagined.

The woman did not stop talking all the way, she seemed to have completely lost her head. She told me the story of her family, occasionally interjecting some joke criticising the military and the dictatorship that ruled the island. I guess when you get to a certain age you are given a license to say whatever you think. Apparently the woman believed her son was a senior member of the resistance, a leader of the dissidents, that he was in contact with the US government to try to derail Castro'splans. After trying to navigate through almost inaccessible places, after trying to negotiate the crowds travelling on foot or by bicycle, we stopped again. Pablito got out and picked up an envelope, put it in the glove compartment and started driving again. A few blocks up the street we stopped again.

\- But I see no hospital here.

\- Excuse compadre,it will only take us a moment.

A girl with cinnamon skin and eyes like honey, ran up to the vehicle and introduced half of her body through the window to hug the elderly woman.

\- My beautiful girl. How is my granddaughter?

The girl, who was about six or seven years old, hugged her grandmother, showing her a wide smile. It was clear that we were visiting their family. I guess Pablito didn't have money to put gas in the Cadillac and taking advantage that I had paid him to fill the tank, he was running a few errands.

\- Come, get off the vehicle, I'll introduce you to my granddaughter.

I don't know, I thought, why would I want to meet a little girl? But I did not want to be rude and I went along. A young woman walked down the stairs leading to the portal.

\- This is María, the mother of my granddaughter Lucía, she has also made some deliveries, so you can trust her.

This was highly confusing. Lucia's mother was somewhat older than Pablo, though he was her uncle. The family mess was almost as big as Mrs. Manuela's mental tangle.

Pablo spoke a few moments alone with María and handed the envelope he'd picked up a few minutes earlier. The truth is that everything began to intrigue me, It was clear that something was being cooked here. While the family probably thought they were bothering this was in fact the type of tourism that I liked to do. All the places are more or less the same - does it matter that palms grow in one place and pines in another? Beaches? Water and sand, the sea is always the sea. What is truly important and that's something travel agents can't sell, is the people, the human stories that take place in one part and the other of the planet. Surely I was learningmore about Cuba that many historians who only visit archaeological sites to take pictures of ruins. And Mrs. Manuela was really lovely, she was telling me all of her life experiences as if I was one of her grandchildren.

\- Mr Nuñez, I'm really sorry about the delay. In just a wee while, we'll leave my mother at the doctor's and go on our way.

Before I could open my mouth or even nod, the woman launched again.

\- But, how are we not going to invite the commander to have coffee. My granddaughter prepares the best coffee in the world. Have I told you my parents used to own a shop where we roasted and milled coffee ourselves? The different bagged varieties were open to the public so that each customer could choose the one they liked. Then, it was roasted and within minutes the customer could take home their freshly ground coffee. I still remember the intense smell. But then, the problems started, you know... those idiotic ideas that everything belongs to the government and you see, they took away the store.

\- Pablo told me you had Spanish grandparents.

\- Yes, you know, at the beginning of the century and even a lot later, many Spaniards were forced to emigrate. My father was from A Coruña, my mother from the Canarian Islands, and by one of those life's twists, they met here. They worked hard all their life and managed to achieve a good financial position- don't get me wrong, they were not nobility but by working hard at the store, they lived comfortably. But you know the end of the story.

\- Well, let's drink this delicious coffee while you continue telling us what happened.

This was one of those moments I would have really liked to be a lot better at the writing arts as it would have been wonderful to write all those stories down. But what to do! The sciences had always been my strength.

We climbed the narrow wooden staircase which, seemed to complain at every single one of our steps. I helped Mrs. Manuela up, holding her by the arm. The doorway showed the same oversight than most of the building's facades elsewhere in the city, the paint was peeling off and left to pile on the floor. It was as if everyone had forgotten to paint, as if the buildings were abandoned. Once inside the small apartment, everything changed, here the walls had soft pastel colours and nice curtains adorned the windows. The floor was made of long strips of old and worn out wood but well waxed nonetheless. We went straight to the kitchen. Upon entering we were swathed by the intense smell of fresh coffee. We sat around a small wooden table and poured coffee while Maria's grandmother went on to tell the story of her parents. Many paid for their trip working on the ship and came to the island with nothing but a penny in their pockets. But they were young and eager to work and most of them immediately began to thrive in their new surroundings. At that time, there was a widespread feeling of solidarity with newcomers - it was not charity, they didn't give anything away, they simply tried to welcome them and find them a new job.

They say that the best coffee is from Colombia and I forgot to ask where this particular one was from because it was the most delicious coffee I had ever tried in my entire life. While we were talking, Pablito seemed restless, pacing back and forth, occasionally looking out the window, hiding behind the curtains. Maria also seemed nervous, but she hid it better.

\- He's gone! Let's hurry, we need to leave now! - snapped Pablito staring at the street.

It was clear they all knew something I did not. We got up and left the house. As soon as we got on the vehicle the driver accelerated sharply and droved speeding down the street. After turning in and out of several narrow lanes, it appeared that finally the calm had returned and Mrs. Manuela, who had kept silent until now, continued recounting her stories.

We finally arrived at the clinic. We took the old lady to the waiting roomwhereshe met some friends. They all agreed to go back home together on the guagua. I said goodbye to Mrs. Manuela, as you bidsomeone you are never going to see againfarewell but she replied casually, as if she knew it wouldn't be too long until our paths crossed once more.

\- Well Pablito, I think it's time to start that guided island tour.

\- Yes, Sir

Old Havana was like a living museum. It was one of the best preserved colonial towns I had ever seen.We went by the Plaza de Armas and visited the Morro Castle, where a beautiful lighthouse welcomed ships coming into the port.

We were near Mrs Manuela's house, located on Calle Teniente Rey only metres from the Convent of St. Francis of Assisi, a picturesque and pleasant place where time seemed to have stood still in the thirties and forties.

\- You see there, that boarded up place was my grandfather's store from where they sold coffee to all Cuba. The only thing I was left in inheritance is the car.

Pablito, as expected, turned out to be a fabulous guide. He knew every street, every building and the stories that occurred in each of those places. We stopped for refreshments at the Plaza de laRevolución, between Vedado and Malecón. Even though I was slowly acclimatising to the heat,I had to hydrate myself constantly. It is no wonder that people here move about either early in the morning or at dusk. Then Pablo took me out for an ice cream at Coppelia on 23rd Street. The smell of cinnamon, caramel, chocolate and vanilla intensely floated in the air, making one's mouth water. We had one of those refreshing sweets completely handmade with natural ingredients. At this point of the day I really began to enjoy the pleasant weather. As I was savouring my ice cream, Pablo told me one of his stories. Not long ago, about two or three years earlier, while walking by this very same place, he bumped into a white-haired gentleman. He accidentally splashed the ice cream over him and stained his pristine white shirt. The man, far from getting angry, apologisedfor the incident and invited him to another. He was American but his face was very familiar. The shopkeeper gestured, trying to tell him something. They spoke a bit in English and a bit in Castilian about unimportant things - climate, economy etc.

\- But don't you know who you were talking to? -the ice cream seller asked in surprise.

\- Well, the truth is that he looked familiar, is he from Roberto's family?

\- Man, that was Ernest Hemingway.

I stared at him, without giving too much credit to his words as if it were a story he had just invented. But Patricio, the owner of the ice cream parlour looked at us and said:

\- By gosh you are dumb, Pablito. Imaginemistaking Hemingway with one of Roberto's cousins!

After enjoying a really good time and freshen up a bit, we continued our walk. Pablo told me about a nightclub, where people danced until dawn. I told him I was not very fond of being out at night because I am a diurnal animal. But he insisted: he had been dancing in that place almost since childhood and had grown to the rhythm of the local music. Plus his girlfriend was also a fabulous dancer. The couple had won many competitions - merengue, salsa;they were good at just about everything. Anywhere else in the world they could have made a living with their dancing but here, it was just considered mere entertainment.

\- Yeah, maybe it's better for you not to leave the hotel tonight, I heard a storm is gathering.

\- Pablo, you have to tell me what's happening in the island. I don't understand anything with all this secrecy.

Truth be said, I was beginning to get tired of all the intrigue but my friend was silent, he was not willing to say a word. Well, maybe it was part of Cuba's charm, I thought.

Suddenly, as we were walking down a street, a man approached the car, opened the passenger door and jumped inside.

\- The accelerator! Press the accelerator! We're not safe here! – said the lanky man, his dark skin glowing from his sweat.

My first thought was that it was a robber, surely some criminal chased by police. But soon I realised it was a friend of Pablo's. I didn't understand what was happening and of course, did not expect them to give me a clue.

\- We need to get those pictures as soon as possible, he told Pablo.

\- Don't say anything here, we know nothing about him.

\- No problem, he is a trusted person, he will be our courier.

The courier? What courier? They were talking about me. What were they plotting?

\- That's it! Tell me what's happening once and for all!

He had no choice but to speak up. To be honest, I then understood why they wanted me to stay out of it.

In recent months there had been a lot of military movement on the island. This at first might seem normal but it wasn't in this case since the majority of those soldiers now in Cuba were Russian. And what were the Russians doing in Cuba? We didn't know yet, but one thing was for sure - they had not come to enjoy a few mojitos. Something big was being planned. They had cleaned and widened some of the roads that drove into the forest. Several vessels with French flags were in fact Russian military vessels. It was clear that the cargo was top secret because the Soviets only worked at night and none of them abandoned their ships. Pablito had informants all over the island and the news were alarming. So far, they had deployed radars and anti-aircraft missiles. Everything wasbeing carried out in the utmost secrecy. In my ignorance, I asked what they needed me for but I received no answer.

They discussed at length and finally both men calmed down. Pablo's friend, a man with African features, tall and thin with frizzy hair finally regained his composure and took a crumpled white and slightly darkenedhandkerchief out of the right pocket of his navy blue pants. He wiped the sweat of his brow, said goodbye to Pablito by shaking hands and bid me farewell informally casually raising his arm. He left through a trail just outside the city. We hopped back in the car and this time headed to the hotel. Pablo stopped the car at the door and before I could get hold of my wallet he said smiling:

\- Leave it, leave it, compadre, how am I going to charge you when we've spent the day with my family? I'll see you soon.

Still I pulled out a few bills from my wallet and gave them to him. It was a small amount only, I wasn't going to do anything with it but I was sure it'll go a long way for him. He readily accepted itand before leaving I said:

\- Early tomorrow I leave for Spain. But in about three or four days I will be back here. I have now been assigned this route and will have time to hear more about this country.

\- Yes, I know that you will return soon. Don't forget I have my contacts- and with these words he said goodbye, leaving me intrigued once again.

It had been a long and busy day, so much so I wasn't feeling like a tourist at all. It is shocking how the situations and events we face influence our lives. You can be sitting next to a person in the office for years but barely know him or her, however in completely different circumstances, in just a few days, maybe hours, a solid friendship is forged, a link, as if we were from the same family.

17

Nowadayswe call it jet lagbut in fact it's no more than a cursed alteration to our body's circadian rhythms resulting from rapid long-distance transmeridian travel on high-speed aircraft. We even conduct studies on it -How does it affect pilots and passengers? How can its effects be mitigated?- we ask ourselves. And yet, no one really talks about it, no one dares mention how incredibly difficult it is to live lost in time, as though it's always day time, as if one day is winter and next day is summer. We always think about time from our own point of view - I called it the selfish way. That's right because for example, when it is winter in Spain most Spaniards think it's winter worldwide. That's why they don't design swimwear during this time of the year when people in the other hemisphere are enjoying summer and they do indeed need swimwear. But we are even more egocentricin relation to time. For instance, when it's midnight my family is sleeping at home in Madrid, I find myself walking the streets of Havana under its scorching midday sun. My work has totally changed my perspective of space and time. The weather becamesomething wild, uncontrollable, and the planet a very small speck in a vast universe. Sometimes, when I drive my car in Madrid I have the feeling that if I turn the corner from Gran Vía, I will suddenly end up on 23rd Street and a little later I'll get to Plaza de la Revolución. If I travel to the north of Madrid towards its mountainous region I feel as though I am in Canada and if I go south, it seems like I was about to cross the border to Mexico, Argentina or Panama. Everyone should have the opportunity to travel, because it inevitably helps us develop a global consciousness, a sense of being part of each and every one of the sites we visit in our soul.

The Jumbo glistened with theamber lights of the rising sun. I did a visual check of that metallic giant and then climbed into the cockpit. It was the largest commercial aircraft ever built, as reliable and safe as a Rolls Royce. That morning we had a new member in the crew although that was quite a common occurrence. I met the young man down the hall, a somewhat gangly boy with a slightly orangey beard. His face was familiar, I thought I knew him but it was impossible - it was a very old memory and he was a very young boy.

\- Hello, good morning. How is everything going around here?

\- Aye, all right sir.

\- What are you saying boy? Do you think you're in the army?

\- Forgive me, forgive me.

\- But do you not know who I am? Go and ask the rest of the crew.

\- Yes, I know who you are: Mr. Nuñez.

\- Well, then you should know that I don't like being addressed to as though we were in the army. What's your name?

\- My name is the same as my father's, Elías.

Of course, it was just like his father, the exact same look that struck me when I first saw him on the old train that took us to the military academy.

\- Dear me, the son of Pilar and Elías. How are your parents? Now that's a coincidence. I guess when it comes to flying you must be like your mother.

\- Yes, as you know my father would not sit on an airplane even if he was drunk.

Life's twists and turns are truly amazing. My wife won'tbelieveit!

The huge plane was packed with people of all kinds. Things back there can get a little chaotic. Luckily, I had a great crew and I didn't have to worry about what happened in that area of the plane. In most flights, children wouldget dizzyor you'd get the usual smartass who tries to be too friendly with the hostesses, especially after having a few drinks, or sometimes, there are also exceptional cases - like the woman who once suffered an appendicitis attack. Luckily, we were close to landing and we were able to provide her with a few pain killers and called the control tower to arrange for an ambulance. But this was a smooth flight, without incidents or mishaps - we departed on time and we landed in Havana as scheduled.

Things had become really difficult in Cuba. I used to joke and say that my plane was the only one allowed to land in Havana, and it wasn't far from the truth. At this point in time customs officers were stricter than ever. The guard – a little fellow with shrewd eyes -, didn't miss a thing and he wasn't the type to search just to keep the tourists' souvenirs he found. He was one of the worst, one of those who followed the party rules to the tee. We were all robbed of our gifts and even some personal items that the persistent police considered to be illegal. I went to the hotel and met the crew to chat for a while over a few whiskeys in the room. We agreed to each share twenty dollars and go for a drink. I put my twenty and twenty more for the boy.

\- The new fellow is invited, we have to go out and celebrate his joining the company!

\- Well, let's go for a drink at La Bodeguita del Medio. We can also have some dinner there.

\- Fine, we can enjoy some of their famous mojitos and then listen to some live music.

Now, I have told you before that I wasn't particularly fond of the nightlife, I preferred day-time sightseeing but there were always special occasions like this. Truth be said, there was always something or other to celebrate and to get together. The crew was like a second family to me. This time we wanted to welcome Elías and I was all for it. We went to La Habana Vieja - after having roamed those streets so many times with Pablito, I knew them all pretty well.

We arrived at a squarewhere musicians played their stringed instruments, guitar, bass and a smaller instrument called tres(or three) by the locals. Of course, their traditional "maracas" could not be missing. It was completely normal to find one or more musicians playing their instruments and singing in any old street. People danced to the tunes of the music spontaneously.In Spain, I was considered a good dancer but compared with these islanders, I was a mere amateur. Besides these salsa rhythms made me feel like a fish out of water. I found the best for me was to enjoy a mojito, or a good rum while I delighted watching the impromptu performances. Elías was just like his father, except for his fear of flying. He inherited much of his personality and almost one hundred percent his looks. He abandoned his drink half way through and went to dance with the young girls on the dancefloor. It's incredible how things change! After all the difficulties his father and I had endured! In the old days, if you went to party in a town that wasn't yours, you could consider yourself very lucky if you looked at any of the young girls and did not end up beaten up by the locals. Those were different times, very hard times and yetwe still managed to have fun, although very often having fun meant devising astute ways to fill up the gut, be it catching fishes in the stream or roasting marshmallows with friends over a camp fire.

We toured the city going from party to party. It was too late and I was feeling tired. I traded my whiskey for an iced coffee and the aroma reminded me of Mrs. Manuela and the store owned by her parents. A tall and slender young woman of voluptuous figure, cinnamon skin and brown eyes approached me. She grabbed my arm and pulled me to the dancefloor.

\- Come on Nuñez, show us how it's done -I heard Gonzalo, the co-pilot, say.

The situation seemed surreal. What would such a young and beautiful woman want from me? Would she be a gold digger? The girl's exotic moves made everyone stop what they were doing to watch us dance. It was quite a sight to see her wiggle like that. I tried to follow the rhythm of the music without looking too ridiculous. Slowly, she took me to the other side of the makeshift dance floor and came even closer. One thing was to dance a few steps together to the sound of the orchestra and another was for her to prance on me shamelessly like that. My head was telling me to move away but my body would not obey it. One is not made of stone, it was better for me to return to my friends and leave this kind of adventures to the young. As I was retracting, trying to put some space in between the two of us, she clasped her body onto mine, grabbed me by the neck and gently rested her chin on my shoulder and said:

\- We have problems, the operation is in danger...

\- What you mean?

\- Look right there, behind that car. I am Pablo's girlfriend. He wants you to meet up with him without attracting any attention.

I felt relieved and now I played her game. Wedistanced ourselves from the crowd and got lost in the darkness of the night. Quickly, we walked towards an alley. There I sawPablo and the man we had that earlier unexpected encounter with.

\- Hey compadre, nice to see you again. How was the trip? Is the family well? Sorry, I didn't introduce you the other day -this is Benigno, a trusted family friend.

I noticed that the man had a black eye but I did not ask, I simply assumed he must have had a fight.

\- Well you've already met my dance partner. She is the best dancer in the whole island, it's a shame she doesn't have good shoes.

I had not noticed until then but he was right – her shoes were indeed very old and were falling apart. They were deviating from the main topic. Why were they hiding from the crowd? If it wasn't because I knew Pablo pretty well I would have thought they had just robbed a bank! But I was sure they were honest people. It was clear that it was all politically motivated and that was why they were being so cautious with customs. The Castro government was trying to hide something, and it must be huge. I had given their storyabout the Russians ships some thought but did not really understand what it was all about. The fact that the Soviets unloaded military equipment on the island was not top secret, unless, of course, it was something too important they were trying to hide from public opinion. It was precisely at this point in time that the Cold War appeared to be dissipating with the US President and the Soviet leader currently negotiatinga range of arm treaties.

\- The other night we trespassed the military area, and managed to have a look at the cargo transportedby the trucks. As we were returning the guards caught Benigno. Fortunately, after a brief interrogation, he managed to convince them that he knew nothing of the matter and that he was only passing by on the way home.

I assumed that the colour purple of his eye was due to this incident. While Pablito was telling me what they had discovered, Benigno stood guard in the corner a few yards down the street. The two were quite tense and nervous and I was beginning to feel exactly the same way.

\- Would you tell me already?! What did you see?

\- Missiles.

\- So what?

\- Long-range missiles with nuclear warheads, ready to be launched on the United States.

Now I felt my stomach clench. Wouldn't the Russians be thinking about attacking the United States? Maybe all the negotiations and treaties were nothing more than a smokescreen to distract the world while they were taking positions. But this was crazy! It was just like Pearl Harbour all over again! The beginning of a new world war could be at hand.

\- Do you have proof of this?

\- No, we only have the missiles' location maps.

\- We have to get evidence, no one will listen to us if we have no proof of anything. I have a camera in the hotel, you must take some photos and we'll figure out later what to do with them.

\- I don'tthink we can return to that place. Last night we were very lucky because Benigno could be pushing up daisies as we speak.

To avoid being arrested, it was best that Alejandra, Pablo's girlfriend,was the one to walk by the site - this way no one would suspect.

\- I'd better go back to my crew. Tomorrow at nine stop by the hotel, I'm in room 108.

I returned to the others and watched how they used signals to communicate with each other. Then Gonzalo hinted something:

\- What a spectacular woman, and the way she moves! You've kept it to yourself all this while...

\- Don't be silly, I have nothing to do with that woman, I just met her here.

Gonzalo remained silent and tried to hold back. Noticing that I was offended by his comments, he preferred not to pursue the subject.

\- But what happened to Elías? You guys, you've got him drunk - I said jokingly seeing the young man trying to follow the rhythm of the music while barely being able to stand up on his feet.

We'd best call it the night. We had the entire day to rest but we had to make sure we were in top shape for the return flight. Elías was humming something and suddenly he fell on his ass.

\- I grab him from this arm and you from the other - one, two, three, up!

The boy kept humming as Gonzalo and I carried himto the hotel. We took him up to his room and left him lying on the bed. My back ached as if I had given birth and my head felt as though it was going to burst. I took an aspirin and went to bed. Something woke me up suddenly. I opened one eye and again heard someone knocking on the door. Who would it be at this hour? Hell, I had completely forgotten my appointment with Alejandra. I opened the door and two uniformed men suddenly entered the room.

\- Just a moment, where do you think you are going?

\- Sorry to barge in like this but we are carrying out orders.

My bad temper made them reconsider and slow down.

\- You see, we have informed that you are dealing with people whoare against the revolution.

\- I have no idea who you are, what the hell you are talking about or where would you have gotten that information. Do you not know whoyou are dealing with?

Luckily, my strategy worked. I don't know who it was that said the best defence is a good offense but they were absolutely right.

\- Don't get agitated, we are just trying to do our job, the last thing we want is to create an international incident.

\- Well, go and do your job elsewhere, or better yet, why don't you devote yourselves to something more useful and stop bothering people?

\- We are very sorry. An informant told us that last night they saw you in adark alley secretly dealing with some people.

And right at that very moment, when I had persuaded them to leave, someone knocked on the door. We had been caught red-handed. If they catch me with Alejandra, then they would surely pull the thread and find Pablo and Benigno. I would be deported but they would go straight to jail and who knows if shot for being spies.

I opened the door quietly, as if nothing happened, and saw the girl who, in seeing the policemen in my room, gestured she was going to run. She was wearing a dress in a thin fabrictight enough to insinuate hervoluptuous figure and short enough to expose her long legs. I grabbed her with one hand by the wrist and put the other around her waist. I planted a kiss on her lips trying to make it look like as passionate as I could. She was shocked but held her breath. I felt twenty years younger and seeing how her nipples suddenly showedon her dress, I guessed I must not have done too badly. Maybe I was a little out of practice, but I still knew how to kiss a woman.

\- Come in darling, I was waiting for you.

The two men looked at each other smiling. Later, the chieftain looked at me and winked.

\- We are very sorry Mr. Nuñez, it was all a misunderstanding, now I understand why you were in a dark alley last night...

They left the room as quick as they could and one of them stood at the door and asked for my apologies.

\- Do your men like cigars?

\- Well, I have smoked them before but only on special occasions.

\- Don't you worry, I'll make sure that while I'm in Cuba you are taken care of.

I closed the door in their face and turned around immediate to look at Alejandra. She was staggering, overwhelmed by fear. I gave her a glass of water and she skolled it all the way down.

\- Give me the camera, I want to get out of here as soon as possible.

\- Look, these two are not stupid. I bet they are waiting downstairs. It's better you rest for a while and let them think we are having a good time, you know what I mean...

I called room service and ordered a special breakfast for two. I ate quietly, as she told me more about Pablo and the dissidents. After a while I told her how to use the camera.

\- Tell Pablito to be very careful. I'll be back in a few days; when I return I'll go to see him.

I kept looking out the window to make sure they didn'tdetain her. After a few minutes I saw her cross the street and walk away from the hotel.

18

I decided to take the bus – I thought if I mingled with the locals I would go unnoticed. The bus was crowded and even with the windows down, the smell of perspiration was pretty strong. I got off a few blocks from the house and walked the remainder of the journey as though I was in a labyrinth -a technique I had read somewhere in a detective novel used to mislead potential pursuers. Once I was satisfied that no one was following me, I entered the gate and went to the first floor. I pounded the old green carriage coloured wooden door and waited. No one answered so after a few seconds I insisted again. But nothing. I turned around and head back to the gate again but then I heard a faint sound. From the window, Mrs. Manuela motioned me to come up again. I looked back on either side of the street and seeing that no one was looking, I entered the building. The woman, who a few weeks ago seemed strong, healthy and full of vitality, was now weak and pouting, her hairdishevelled and neglected.

\- Come in, sit down, those damned fascist who call themselves revolutionaries, if the Commander could seewhat's happening. If Ernesto saw what they are doing to the country... - and she continued muttering and cursing.

\- I need to talk to Pablo, it is urgent, you know...

\- Oh myPablito! Those damned cowards took him prisoner, they have arrested him and will soon shoot him dead.

\- Calm down, Manuela, I need to know where I can find Benigno. You'll see how the matter is to be resolved.

She told me to ask for him at La Bodeguita del Medio, the waiter would show me where to find him. I said goodbye to Mrs. Manuela and to make sure she'd stay calm I promised I would get her son out of jail. I was not at all sure, I did not even know what to do. Maybe I should talk to the embassy? I don't know, it's possible they may also have people working for the Fidel's government. First I have to talk to Benigno, yes, that's for sure. I went outside and called a taxi. The place I was heading was frequented by tourists and therefore there was no need to go by bus, it was normal for touriststo enjoy a few mojitos or Creole cuisine there. As expected, the place was packed at that hour. I went to the bar and asked the bartender for a beer. When hebroughtit I said:

\- I need to speak with Benigno. The man turned around and continued to attend to other customers as if he had not heard me.

He served several drinks and prepared several cocktails, ignoring me completely, then came back to me.

\- Who is looking for him?

-I'm Nuñez, Pablito's friend.

Again he continued his chores, introduced several spirits in a shaker, shook them well to the rhythm of mambo, poured the contents into a glass, added a paper umbrella and served it. He placed the glass on a cardboard coaster.

\- They told me you might be coming around. Here's the address -he said pointing at the bottom of the drink.

I took the piece of cardboard and surreptitiously hid it in my pocket, I tasted the delicious cocktail thinking of what could have happened to Pablo. Of course, if he'd been caught with the camera he would not had been thrown into prison, the military would have shot him right there.

I found him in a shack on the outskirts of the city. I had to walk several hours along winding trails to get to him.

\- Benigno! It's me, Pablito's friend. Do you remember me? - I shouted from outside. I waitedfor him to come out of hiding.

\- Gooo aw away hip, I do notwant to see you -he was drunk as a skunk. His tongue tangled and the hiccups would not let him speak more than two words in a row.

\- No worries, try to calm down, go and wash yourself a little, I'll wait. Alcohol makes you lose confidence. You have to calm down and figure out how to resolve a situation.

Luckily, the man listened to me, something which does not generally happen when you instruct a drunk person to do something. He threw the bottle of rum away and came outside. Then sat by the roadside under the shade of a tree and stayed there without saying a word, while the soft breeze stroked his face. He spent about an hour like this. I waited patiently watching the type of vegetation that grew around the hut. This reminded me of those long days spent in the dugout when I was radiogonometrist. Suddenly, as if he possessed by the devil he got up, walked straight down the hill, ran to a small stream and dove in. The water was only a few centimetres deep. Then, he returned and finally spoke to me:

\- You're right, we have to get him out, he would have done the same for me.

\- Of course, we will get him out. You'll see! Tell me how it happened?

\- On Tuesday night, past midnight, we went up the road recently built by the military, which juts out into the jungle path. You knowthe one I mean. We reached the place where thelaunchersare located. These are covered with green nets to blend in with the surroundings and prevent anyof the U2 spy planes that frequently fly over the island from spotting them. The area was full of soldiers and although they were supposed to be on guard, they sat in a circle, playing cards in the candlelight. This allowed us to get closer, up to an elevated area from where we could see the missiles very clearly. Now we only had to wait for daylight in the darknessso that we could take some pictures. We laid on the weeds and waited. At first, the nerves and the fear to be discovered kept me alert but then the fatigue set in and I finally fell asleep like a log. Useless! I was awoken by some voices. I found the camera outside its leather casebeside me. The marker indicated that eighteen shots had been taken. I looked for him desperately. I looked everywhere but found nothing, no trace of Pablito. Damn bastards! Again, I heard voices and I saw the soldiers rush out down the road. I figured they were looking for Pablo. I could not remain in that place any longer or they'll bash me up like a turkey. I hang the camera around my neck and rushed out of there, crossing the dense vegetationthe best I could. That's it, I know nothing more.

\- Well, we both know that Pablo is not stupid, surely in seeing that the soldiers were about to blow up your cover, he rushed downhill to call on their attention.

\- Bastards! Idiots!

\- Relax. The first thing I'll do is to check with the embassy to see if they can locate him.

It was not until a few days later that I received the information. When I got the call, I immediately thought the worst but after hearing what they had to say, I almost jumped for joy. Pablito had managed to escape from the hands of the military. It seems they had arrested him on a farm and accused him of going there to steal without any evidence that a crime had ever been committed. So, he was merely in the cells of the police station, along with other common criminals. Now I just needed a little luck and a lot of dollars. If I talked to the right person, all it would take would be a simple bribe and Pablito would be free. But before I could even begin to celebrate the news by taking a whiskey in my room, the phone rang again. It was Benigno- he sounded very nervous, I had to get Pablo out immediately because the Secret Service was looking for him. The military had reported the incident and were moving heaven and earth to find him. Fortunately being a top secret matter, the police were not aware of it.

A verylarge, tough looking man with a pockmarked face, sat quietly in his chair puffing his cigar.

\- What can I do for you? - hesaid carefully droppingthe ashes of his cigar into an ashtray in the shape of a shell.

\- Well, you see, a friend of mine has been arrested by mistake.

\- We do not make mistakes here - he replied with calm words, almost as if asleep, while arching his bushy eyebrows.

It was time to gamble. I had to assess what kind of cop he was. Some say that everyone has a price, and that's more accurate in places where poverty abounds but it is also true that some people will not be sold for all the gold in the world.That doesn't mean that the latter are more decent human beings - they are generallyhard core fanatics who blindly follow what their superiorshave ordered them to do, be it feed or kill everyone.

\- You see, I just happened to find one hundred US dollars by the door of the station, someone must have lostthem. The commissioner immediately became more attentive as if he had just come out of a trance.

\- I'm not going to tell you that we are perfect, everyone can make mistakes. What's your friend's name?

\- Pablo García.

\- Now, now I remember, the guy who was caught behind the fence of a farm. But I do not remember where I left his papers...

I put another hundred dollars on the table and his eyes sparkled.

\- Just a moment, yes, here they are, sometimes I get very confused. Perhaps this report may get lost, you know what I mean, but that will cost you another two hundred.

Always a pleasure dealing with greedy people- you can't trust those who are not moved by money. Being a philanthropist is fine for bored millionaires but to ordinary mortals the only thing that gets them out of bed every morning to go to work is their monthly salary. The assistant went down to the dungeon, called Pablo and let him out.

19

The plan was as follows. Once we landed in Havana the entire crew was to go through customs and stay at the hotel. Pablo was to remain hidden until I brought him Elias' uniform. Given that the hotel's receptionist never really paidmuch attention to all the pilots coming and going all the time, Pablo willenter the hotel and proceed to room 108, which is mine. Then, he'll only have to wait until it's our turn to go to the airport together. Elías had already booked another room, posing as a tourist. He will have toremain a couple of days in Cuba at most to wait for our return, preferably without leaving the hotel too often. Pablo will embark with us as though he was part of the crew. Leaving the country there's not that much control, especially for us pilots. It is easy to take your photos and documents in your briefcase without any problem.

On paper, every single plan always goes well but when the moment of truth arrives, all types of contingenciesbegin to emerge. I met Lieutenant Rodriguez and his assistantin the hall. He was wearing a white hat in one hand and a small wooden box in the other.

\- Mr Nuñez, allow me, before you leave, please accept these cigarettes. They arehand-made by my own sister and they are top quality, I'm sure you'll like them.

I thanked him for the gift, although I suspected that it was just a ploy to get more information out of me. It was nine o'clock and Pablo was about to appear any minute now, and he did. He didn't know any of the men I was speaking to.While we continued chatting about the superior craftsmanship of his sister's cigars, I kept them entertained with their back to the stairs and surreptitiously gestured Pablito to go to the bathroom. Right at that very moment, a military Jeep stopped in front of the hotel. Four soldiers got out and walked through the revolving door. It was clear that they must have known everything –they most likely would have spoken to the police commissioner.

\- Would you like to have some coffee?

\- But it's on me.

We entered the caféwhile the soldiers raced up the stairs, searching each of the hotel rooms looking for us.

\- Three coffees with milk - I asked the waiter and subsequently apologised:

\- Excuse me one moment gentlemen, - and rushed to the bathroom.

There was Pablo, wiping the sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief. He was very nervous and with good reason. We were in a serious pickle.

\- Get out now and jump on the first taxi you see, we will meet at the airport. Walk with pride, with cockiness and remember you're part of the crew.

I returned quickly to the bar of the cafeteria and looked at my watch. I held my cup of still steaming coffee by its handle and drank it down. Damn liquid, it burnt like lava.

\- It's been a pleasure talking to you but my plane is about to leave and I mustn't be late.

I left the lieutenant with a word in his mouth and got out of there in a hurry. The uproar that the military was causing reached the reception hall, but luckily neither of them suspected anything. I quickly walked the few yards to the cafeteria exit door, expecting to be detained at any point. If I stopped now, the plane would not depart and Pablito would be stuck at the airport. But when I put my hands on the revolving door, I stopped holding my breath, thinking I was already safe.

\- Wait! Nuñez! Wait a moment! - snapped Rodríguez.

My heart stopped beating for a second and then it accelerated suddenly. My legs buckled and a drop of sweat ran down my forehead. It was clear that I had been caught. Well, it was better not to do anything stupid. I wasn't the heroin a Hollywood blockbuster. If I tried to flee it would not be unlikely that a bullet be put through my back. I turned around slowly and refrained myself from raising my hands up in the air.

\- Your cigars, don't forget your cigars! - the nerves made me forget the cigar box they had just given me.

Now, finally I found myself on the street. As I was walking to the corner of the street to catch a taxi, the military left the hotel.

\- Hey, hey! – theycried. This time I ran for my life.

I turned the corner and met with a massive crowd of people walking towards Plaza de la Revolución. The party had organised a rally. I walked jostling between this human tide, mingling with them and even shouting Viva la Revolución and Viva Fidel! The disoriented soldiers were trying to find me amid all that bustle but they could not identify me. I had a good advantage over them and no matter how fast they went they were just not able to seize me due to the agglomeration and the many arms and banners on that street. Suddenly I stumbled upon a police line. The soldiers were approachingfast so I had to bend down under the tape and ran hastily down the street. As I was looking back trying to locate my followers Icrashed like a ram against someone. It was Raúl Castro, who marched with his brother Fidel in the middle of the street waving to the crowd. This is it, they will execute me for this...

\- What is this insolence? What's the reason for this attack? - angrily rebuked Raúl, straightening his military uniform, now crumpled after the fortuitous encounter.

\- I have the honour of bringing the Commander the best Cuban cigars. They are handmade by a good friend's sister. Fidel laughed. He had been holding his laughter from the moment I ran into his brother.

He took one of the cigars in the box, sniffed it and said smiling:

\- They look good, comrade, I thank you.

I was dying to get out of there but Fidel held out his hand, grabbed my arm tightly and gave me a hug. I mumbled softly, almost inaudibly:

\- !Viva la revolución!

\- !Viva la revolución! Fidel shouted, and everyone shouted: !Viva!

There was no better time than the present to get out of there and vanish into the crowd. So I stepped back, I turned around and then,again...

\- Wait a moment, comrade. You can have one of mine- Commander Castro pulled one of his cigars from the pocket in his jacket.

This time, after thanking him, I was finally able to leave that damn place.

I think I had never been so glad to be in an airport. The crew, along with Pablito, they were all waiting at the gate. In those days, boarding a plane wasn't as complicated as today, and if you worked in the airline it was just like taking a bus.

\- Pablo, bring the briefcase, it's better that I take it through - I opened it and saw that all the materials, documentation and photographs were inside.

\- No, compadre, I have to do this. Enough trouble have I gotten you into already. What are you doing?

\- Cut the chatter and quicken the pace, you'll have time to thank me when we're on the plane.

In the middle of the hall there was a control. It was too late to turn back. If we behaved suspiciously, we would surely be caught. As we approached I saw Lieutenant Rodríguez and his assistant.

\- Is there something wrong, agent?

\- We meet again! No, it's just a routine inspection. They frisked Pablo and made him empty everything in his pockets.

\- We apologise for the inconvenience but we have to open the case.

Again, I tried to deflect the attention to another topic:

\- I am going to end up believing you have something against pilots. Have you had any problems with our company? You don't stop haunting us as if we were terrorists - but while my words did bother them and reminded them to be careful not to make a mess of the situation, the continued with the search.

They opened the briefcase. Pablo turned pale, his skin quickly lost all colour. I noticed he staggered so I grabbed his armtoprevent him from falling.

\- These young people don't know not how to drink - was all I could think of. And it worked.

I knew they would not find anything because when Pablito had earlier handed me the briefcase for me to check everything was in order, I took some of its contents and put it under my arm through my jacket. But now it was I who was in the spotlight. The assistant deputy approached me with the intention of starting a frisk. I looked at Rodríguez in disbelief, shaking my head from side to side.

\- Enough Fernando, how many times do you want to cache Mr. Nuñez? Once again, lady luck was on our side.

\- Excellent, your sister's cigars, here is one given to me by Fidel himself.

\- You are a prankster. Thanks for the cigar, and come back again whenever you want.

20

Fermín learned about what had happened in Cuba and thought it best that Conchita found out as well. I usually confide everythingon my wife but in this case, I thought it was better to keep her out of it. The less she knew about it the better. It was best to spare from her all the worries and potential danger.

I will now recount the events as narrated to me by Mrs. Concha, Nuñez's wife:

My husband was behaving strangely as of late -he didn't talk about his time abroad and what was even more unusual, he left the house without saying where he was going in the middle of the night. On several occasions I caught him secretly talking on the phone. It was clear that something unusual was happening. It was not until Fermín, one of his co-workers visited us that I found out what it was all about. He told me they saw him dancing with a mulata. And that's not all. He actually did leave with her and when they questioned him about the girl, he appeared very angry and did not want to talk about the matter at all. At first they thought it was nothing serious, but the next morning, when Fermín went down to have breakfast at the hotel's cafe, he saw the girl leaving his room. It was clear then that he was having an affair with a young Cuban. I was very upset and betrayed, I always trusted him completely. After a few days, I thought it must have been a one night-stand, maybe to feel young again now that he was getting older. If the girl was on the other side of the world, he would probably not see her again. I could try to convince him to stop working on international flights and get him to return back to domestic. So I waited for the right time to mention it but he behaved oddly, never found the time to stay home and would leave at odd others without saying where he was going or when he would return. I called Fermín to learn if he knew anything else and he said he would do his best to find out. The next day he called me and gave me an address.

Hotel Palace, room 1022.

\- It's all I know -you'd better talk to Nuñez personally. I hope you might be able to resolve it.

My blood pressure skyrocketed. I was fuming. That two-bit whore would find out who I was. I went straight to the hotel with the sole intention to rip the hair of that home wrecker. How could she have seduced a much older, married man?Him too, he was also going to find what I was worth. How did it even cross his mind to bring to that unfortunate soul and have her hosted here in Madrid, in the Palace Hotel of all places?

\- Hello, I want to know if Mr. Nuñez is in. The boy at the reception was intimidated and quickly reached for his records.

\- Well, I think I've seen him leave a few minutes ago.

\- Okay, don't even think about saying anything.

I sat on one of the chairs from where I could see the entrance and waited for him to arrive. Luckily he did not take long. As he came in, I quickly grabbed a newspaper from the reading table and covered myself with it so that he could not see me. He took the elevator, I climbed the stairs. I had been waiting for a long time – to catch him red handed. I arrived in front of room 1022, I took a breath, stood tall and, knocked on the door three times.

\- An urgent telegram for Mr. Nuñez - I said holding my nose with two fingers to distort my voice.

The door opened immediately. It was a man.

\- My God, good grief, this is worse than I imagined!

\- Conchita! What are you doing here?

\- Oh, oh! I feel dizzy! All these years married to an inverted! I'm going to die!

\- Stop talking nonsense. This is Pablo, a good friend.

\- Yes, yes, good friend, that's what they all say ... That's exactly what Fermín told me, that you were behaving very strangely. Now I understand everything.

\- Okay now, stop talking nonsense.

He then told me the whole story and after hearing it all, I was convinced I was mistaken. But when Pablito came to greet me Isensed a certain femininity.

\- You've come at the wrong time. We are waiting for some people from the US Embassy to talk about Cuba with Pablo. You know that is a very complicated situation and that's why I wanted you to stay out of it.

And the rest of the story, you already know it - the Americans sent a few U2 aircraft to the coordinates given by Pablito and they were able to take pictures of the missile launchers. Then all hell broke loose but eventually they were able to resolve it. They started negotiating with Soviet leaders and thus began the antinuclear treaties.

21

Since I joined Iberia, it was rare for me to travel in any other modes of transport other than planes. Like most company employees we had a frequent flyer account. Plus we pilotswere able to travel anywhere we wanted for free because back in those days we entered as part of the crew and sat in the cabin.This wasn't ideal for us pilots because the last thing we want to do off duty is to fly. Besides cars, I preferred to travel to nearby placesby train. I particularly enjoyed taking the train to visit my villageand wanderaround the ruins of the monastery, remembering my childhood and meditating. For many years ithad been left neglectedbut fortunatelyit is now restored and stands proud again as it did before.

In this particular occasion, I was travelling by train to see a relative. We had to resolve a property matter and I needed to sign as a witness. It was a short distance and my car was at the workshop so I decided to catch a train. Thestation still retained thatgrand old spirit of days gone by and as I waited on the platform Icould imagine an old steam locomotive whistling inat any time. That day the station was very busy - people moved in all directions,some arriving and others departing. I was walking while trying to read the platform number and departure time on my ticket. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a man walking towards me. I had a better look trying not to get his attention and I realized that it was Ramirez. It had been many years since we last saw each other for the last time in the office of the director of aviation. I figured that maybe he had not even recognised me. I continued walking among the crowd,climbed on my carriage and sat on the side facing the other track. The passengers got on board and accommodated themselves on their seats. I began to read the newspaper quietly. Someone stood next to me, I checked to see if he had enough place to sit down and I saw Ramirez staring at me.

\- What a coincidence! How is life? - I asked, as if I had not seen him following me.

\- The truth is I cannot complain, I have enough free time and live very well.

\- Well, you don't know how happy that makes me!

- Well, you know, I partly owe it to you. After the Galician incident, I decided flying wasn't really my thing. My father had insisted I was a pilot. Always the same story... I would have rather worked elsewhere, but he was unwavering...

\- I didn't know, I always thought you liked aviation.

\- Aviation? No way, I only joined to please my father. But had it not been for you, I'm sure I would be pushing up daisies long ago. I say this sincerely, since leaving Iberia things were a hitch. I joined Renfe through a connection and since then, I'm as happy as Larry.

They announced the departure of the train over the loudspeakers and Ramírez said he had to get off. We shook hands and he got out of the car. That was the last time I saw him. Since the meeting with the director of aviation, I had always felt guilty about his dismissal but as the oldsaying goes, time does tell. It's easy to pigeonhole people by what we see on the surface but in many cases the struggle is inside. Ramírez appeared to be a spoilt brat, friend of people in high places, but he was in fact, a slave of his own game. Surely he was able tojoin the air force, surely he could have gotten any job he wanted, but always following the rules imposed by his father. As I said before, in the end, the dust always settles.
Epilogue

I am a very nervous person. The simplest of situationshave the potential to turn into a nerve-wracking series of events that really upset me. This time, though, it was justified. I had not slept well and walked to the train station in a hurry. A couple of weeks had gone by since we met in León and all this time I had been thinking about the novel. What should I ask him? How would I record the interview? I had never done this type of work before. First, I prepared a questionnaire to follow during the interview so that I could get all the information I needed to write this book. But it was not easy at all. Then, as always, in the rush of the moment, I forgot to print the questions. I had been working for several years as a computer programmer and I'm a very messy person so my room looks a lot like the back room of a computer repair store. I have several printers, some of them very old. I've really made the most of the last one because it's so old that the computer can't tell whether the cartridges are full or empty - it doesn't even know whether they are new or old. So, I inject the ink with a syringe and the only costs I incur when printing are the electricity and the paper. I recently felt like experimenting. I had a bit of ink left so I grabbed a bottle of liquid shoe polish, the kind that have an applicator with a scouring pad and I stuck the needle in it. I filled the syringe and injected into it the cartridge. The product worked very well. The pieces of paper took longer than usual to dry up and the resulting manuscript had a strong smell of shoe but otherwise it worked perfectly well. The problem came later on, specifically several days later, when I started to print the interview questions for Mr Nuñez. It turned out that the ink had dried inside the cartridges, becoming completely solid. Nothing, there was nothing to do, I had to throw the cartridges and buy new ones, or get empty ones to recharge them again, this time, with actual ink for the printer.That printer was unusable at this point. I also had a simple and pretty good quality HP which, wasvery affordable but the cartridges themselves cost a fortune. This was an intelligent printer - there was no way to forge the cartridges without the machine getting mad at you. It was five to ten and at I was supposed to meet Alfonso at ten to drive me to the interview with his father. Well, this was an urgent case and couldn't care less about the price of the damn ink. I plugged it in haste, but the printer was uninstalled. I felt my stomach churn.Now I had to quickly find the CD with the drivers and as always I had no clue where it was in this chaos.

\- Not here, not this one either. I found it, I found it!

Once I fixed the problem I left my house at full speed. I was ten minutes late. Then I realised that with the haste, I had forgotten to urinate before leaving and now the bladder was giving me warning signals. I immediately started to feel dizzy. I remembered all those times when I had ended up in trouble for similar reasons. So I got off the train to answer Mother Nature's call but could not find the damn toilet. After touring the entire station and when I finally got to it, the doors were locked. I had to talk to the station master and by the time I got to the bathroom I was paler than an albino person with hypothermia.

Very often I take a tea to relax but then the side effects of the linden are often worse. I don't like to take any pills but I always carry a few in my wallet in case an emergency arises. Well, I started carrying two, but then I added another tablet and then aspirin, then one for motion sickness, another for stopping a case ofdiarrhoea – in other words, I have the emergency kit on me at all times. They say prevention is cure butin this case, wheneverI had been questioned by the police I was forced to find all sorts of excuses to justify all those drugs. But I get side-tracked. The thing is, I don't like abusing drugs, so I always wait until the last minute to take them. That day I felt quite dizzy but took nothing. As I was arriving at the station I felt like throwing up so I thought it was time to take a tranquilizer or I would end up collapsing on the floor. Well, that lead to a series of problems: my hands started to shake so much that I was almost unable to take the tablets from my wallet. Removing them from their packaging was even harder and I had to make several attempts to put them in my mouth. Now I just had to give it about fifteen or twenty minutes and I'll start to feel better. I showed up in the car park where I was supposed to meet Alfonso late and a little dizzy but I said nothing because I did not want to scare anyone.We got into the car and drove to Barajas, where Mr Nuñez had a house near the airport. They welcomed me warmly and showed me all those artefacts from around the word while telling me the story behind each one of them. It was impressive - it was clear I had really been lucky to meet him. Then he showed me some pictures and I was very surprised to see him as a young man in uniform posing beside each different aircraft. One would never imagine that an old man like him could have looked like Sean Connery in his heyday when it acted as James Bond. In fact, it was even hard for me to think of him as having ever been young. He began to tell the story of his life so I put the phone in recording mode which, fortunately recorded in mp3. My previous phone had nothing but a calculator. Unfortunately, after many hours of interviewsthe sound of the recording proved to be verypoor. Luckily his son Alfonso, who is an electronic music composer has a recording studio at home and was able to filter out the background noise and get an acceptable quality I was later able to work from and write this novel.

Nuñez has always been an avid reader and in one of the interviews he spoke to me about three of the books that underlie the basis of his thought. I wanted this book to tell his life and also to convey some of his philosophy. The universe is vast and human beings are insignificant; try to learn from your surroundings; know your environment and you will know yourself. It is a simple approach: what can one do against hunger in the world? What can we do to prevent wars? Simply, focus on getting along with your neighbour, help them if they need anything. He recommended reading Confessions of St. Augustine, Pedro Saputo, and finally The Little Prince of French writer and aviator Antoine de Saint-Exupéry.

Acknowledgements

This is the first book where I include an "Acknowledgments" section. To be honest, it was about time, because they are piling up! I don't enjoy receiving gifts, in fact, sometimes it really frustrates me. I guessthat's why I find these kind of things difficult. But these days, everyone starts with their thanks and dedications. The book may not have an index, not even a prologue but the dedication never fails. They are mostly very corny: Thanks to my mother for bringing me into the world, thanks to my father, my wife, my grandmother and even my dog...

Wanting to spare readers from having to read these worn-out sentences all over again, I have skipped the obvious and have written the names of the people who really deserve it.

First, of course, the narrator of this story and the person who has made this novel possible: Alfonso Nuñez Balboa. Then, his son Alfonso García Nuñez, who introduced us and convinced his father to tell me his life. Nagore Martin who always helps me with all my books. It is also time to thank the work of Armando Ramos, always assisting me selflessly with proofreading, and finally I cannot forget Nuñez's wife María Concepción García, a lovely lady who invited me several times to eat at home.

To everyone, I hope to be able to return the favoursomeday.

Visual Annex

Bücker Bü 131 Jungmann

The Bücker Bü 131 Jungmann (translated as "young man" from German) was a basic trainer manufactured in Germany in the thirties by Bücker Flugzeugbau. It was used by the Luftwaffe during World War II.

After serving in the Kaiserliche Marine in World War I, Carl Bücker moved to Sweden where he became Managing Director of Svenska Aero AB (SAAB). Later he returned to Germany with Anders Anderson, a young designer from SAAB. "Bücker Flugzeugbau GmbH" was founded in Berlin in 1932, and the first aircraft to enter production was the Bü 131 Jungmann.

Operational history.

Robust and agile, the Jungmann was selected as the basic primary Luftwaffe for training purposes. Production licenses were awarded to Switzerland, Spain, Hungary, Czechoslovakia and Japan, country which built more than 1200 machines for the air services of its Army and Navy (known as the Kokusai Ki-86 and Kyūshū K9W respectively). In Spain, production continued at CASA until the early sixties. The Jungmann retained its role in the Spanish Air Force as the primary basic trainer until 1968.

About 200 Jungmanns survive today, many of them equipped with modern and very powerful engines.
Junkers Ju 52

The Junkers JU 52 was a German transport aircraft occasionally used as a bomber during the Spanish Civil War. A descendant of the Junkers F 13, this is a low-wing monoplane with fixed landing gear and metal coating. Despite archaic features like the mentionedfixed landing gear, angular lines and corrugated liner, the Ju 52 was not only present in all German military operations during World War II but it also participated in some of the so-called "post-war wars".

History, design and development

Despite the severe weaponry restrictions imposed on Germany by the Versailles Treaty, several secret experiments and military training programs to personnel chosen in clandestine facilities outside Germanyhad been conducted since 1919, especially in the USSR following the Treaty of Rapallo in 1922. After the German retreatedfrom the peace talks in 1932, they began to lay the foundations for a genuine rearmament. The future Luftwaffe would have initially been equipped with military aircraft adapted from existing civilian versions.

In 1927 Junkers' engineers were responsible for the development of a major new single-engine transport that encompassed the accumulated experience from previous designs and which was primarily intended to transport loads. Like its predecessors, the new Junkers Ju 52 model was a typical Junkers with metallic sheathed in corrugated duralumin and the classic "double Junkers wing". The first of these planes flew on October 13, 1930.

The following year the Junkers design team, headed by engineer Ernst Zindel, began evaluating and working on adapting two engines on the wings, and prompted the seventh cell to be extracted from the assembly line and converted into the Junkers Ju 52/3m (3m by Dreimotoren, tri-motor) prototype, powered with three Pratt & Whitney Hornet 550 hp, which made its maiden flight in April 1931. The performance of this Ju 52/3mce was so markedly superiorto the single-engine version, that it was decided to discontinue the production of the latter. The first buyer was Lloyd Aereo Boliviano, who received seven planes from 1932 onwards.

The plane was available both with landing gear wheels and floats. Aero O/Y (Finland)) and Aerotranport AB (Sweden) acquired this latest version, but the Ju 52/3mce supplied to the Deutsche Luft-Hansa had conventional landing gear.

The evaluation of the military potential of thisproduct by the then clandestine Luftwaffe led to the construction of a provisional bombardment version, the Ju 52/3mge and the subsequently improved Ju 52 / 3mg3e. The conversion of the plane for bombing missions didn't alter the usual appearance of the plane and as such it could be quickly manufactured without modifying the existing assembly lines. The latter three radial enginesversion powered by BMW-A-3 132 725 CV was capable of carrying an internal load of six bombs 100 kg each and it was defended by an MG15 by two 7.92 mm machine guns in the dorsal position and a retractable ventral position. Deliveries of the Ju 52/3mg3e to the newly released Luftwaffe totalled about 450 copies in 1934-35. The first unit equipped with them was the Kampfgeschwader 152 "Hindenburg".

The history of the "Tante Ju" (Aunt Ju, affectionately nicknamed by its pilots) did not end the day of the Allied victory, when only about 50 machines out of the 4,835 built remained operational. The primary post-war user was France, with nearly 400 machines built by Ateliers de Colombes Aéronautiques with the designation AAC 1 Toucan, of which 85 provided commercial services in the post-warperiod with Air France and many other French airlines. The Toucan served in the Armée de l'Air and Aéronavale, and it was employed in transport missions and parachuting in Algeria and Indochina.

In Spain, Construciones Aeronáuticas S.A manufactured 170 machines for the Air Force with the acronym CASA C-352L and the military designation T.2 with engines ENMASA Beta E9C of 750 CV (BMW 132). Its license was acquired in 1942 and the first machine made its first flight in 1944.

The C-352L had an active part in the Ifni War in 1957-58.

Heinkel He 111

The Heinkel He 111 was a medium-size bomber, initially designed as a passenger aircraft by Siegfried and Walter Günter brothers on a request from the Luftwaffe. It made its first flight in 1935.

The Heinkel 111 was designed as an airliner, however its military potential was notorious. The first prototype, Heinkel 111 V1 was a significantly improved version of the Heinkel He 70 Blitz, equipped with two engines BMW VI OZ 600 hp which, first flew on 25 February, 1935. Smaller wings were adopted in the second and third prototypes (He 11 He V2 V3). The He 111 V2 was designed for civil purposes and to transport up to 10 cars and mailbags, while the V3 was the first bombing prototype machine. Before the end of 1936, six units of the 111C series, derivatives of the V4, were being used by Lufthansa, powered with different engines, including the BMW 132. In early 1936 the He 111 V5 started flying, a prototype of the He 111B military series, which was equipped with two engines Daimler Benz DB 600A of 1,000 hp. In late 1936 the first deliveries to an operating unit, the 1/Kg 154 Fassberg, and in February 1937 thirty 111B-1 were used in two bombing Staffel of the Condor Legion, the Kampfgruppe K/88 which, conducted its first operational mission with the new model on March 9. Subsequently the Condor Legion began receiving the improved versionHe 111B-2 and later the He 111E-1.

The first prototype, He 111 V1 (W.Nr. 713, D-ADAP), first flew from Rostock-Marienehe on February 24, 1935. [2] It was followed by the civil versions V2 and V4, equipped in May 1935. The V2 (W.Nr. 715, D-ALIX) used the bomb compartment as "smoking zone" with four seats and six seats in the rear fuselage.

The CASA 2.111 was a medium size bomber derived from the Heinkel He 111 H-16 and produced under license by Construcciones Aeronáuticas SA in Spain. The models 2.111 differed significantly from the Heinkel 2,111's original design, with heavier armament and in the latest versions, with Rolls Royce Merlin 500-20 engines.

During the Spanish civil war, Spain was givena few units of the He 111 B model and began to receive the 111E-1 model but improved; but the need for a more current model led to the signing of a contract between CASA and Heinkel to produce under license model units He 111H-16. The production encountered some initial problems due to lack of proper tools, so that the first issue did not fly until 1945. A series of 200 copies, the first 130 Junkers Jumo powered engines were built. The remaining 70 were equipped with Rolls Royce Merlin 500-20 of 1,600 hp.

The success of the Heinkel He 111 wasits greatest misfortune. Its speed allowedthe plane to escape almost unscathed from enemy fighters and that made Germans believe that large fleets of these aircraft would be sufficient to devastate the enemy, without bothering to design a better armed aircraft. Thus, the first three models carried only 3 machine guns, those used during the Battle of Britain with disastrous results. They increasingly loaded them with more and more weapons and armour. The speed of the 1942 to 1945 models bear no resemblance to the 1935-36 models.

After the end of the war, access to the German Junkers that built the engines became a problem and CASA had to find an alternative to the Rolls-Royce Merlin 500-20. Later, between 1953 and 1956, Spain bought 173 Rolls-Royce Merlin engines and installed them in about 70 still functionalHe 111. Some of these devices appeared in the film The Battle of Britain.

Douglas DC-3 Skytrain

The Douglas DC-3 Skytrain revolutionised the transportation of passengers between 1930 and 1940. It was developed by a group of engineers led by Arthur E. Raymond and first flew in 1935.

Its development was due in part to the competition posed by the emergence of the Boeing 247in 1933, an aircraft with similar characteristics. However, the range of services offered by the Douglas DC-3 earned it its own place in history.

The company Douglas sold 400 of these aircrafts to major airlines of the time and they quickly moved the train to long distance travel within the United States.

Douglas DC-3 takes off Catalina Island in California

With this aircraft, Douglas tried to start a new era in civil aviation, offering comfort levels never before experienced by travellers, accustomed to unwelcoming, inaccessible spaces where they could rarely sleep. Unfortunately, many of these luxury trips, disappeared as airlines could not afford to offer such amenities. However, the sense of security, the stillness of the structure and the flying conditions of this machine, were a far cry from the conventional aircrafts of the time, giving the occupants a sense of confidence. This means that thanks to its speed, maintenance, range and performance, the DC-3 was the first successful commercial airliner that did not have to sacrifice the comfort of its passengers.

During World War II many of these aircraft were converted for military use and thousands of variations of this aircraft - called C-47, C-53, R4D and Dakota - were built. The armed forces of many countries used it to transport troops, cargo or as nursing planes. About 15,000 units were produced - some unlicensed like the Japanese Showa L2D or the Soviet Lisunov Li-2.

Lisunov Li-2.

After the war, thousands of these aircraft were converted for civilian use. The DC-3 became the standard plane for many years for all the airlines in the world.

A DC-3 Douglas was acquired by LAN Chile in 1946.

Among many other curiosities, it is worth highlighting that this is the only aircraft with retractable landing gear in the world, capable of landing without releasing its wheels and damaging surfaces or propellers. This is because as the system is stored, it stands about 15 inches, since it hasits main trains - as many other aircrafts those days - located in a lower compartment of the engine's cowling. If a hydraulic failure should occur and the main train did not descend from its position, it was possible for the ground to enter in contact with them if the engines were turned off and the propellers were left in an inverted "Y". This way you could land safely, without damaging the engines and without exposing the structure.

Another curious fact is that since the invention of the jet engine, the arrival of the jet, and the subsequent introduction of the turboprop engines, various types of aircraft emerged with the mission to replace the DC-3 as the main workhorse of commercial, freight and mail and the young private civil aviation. This was also driven by the replacement of the radial engines as main aircraft engines given the fact thatmore powerful and reliable options became available such as turbines or the more profitable and less fuel hungry cylinder engines. However, and in spite of the advantages offered for mass air transportation by the new versions, many disappeared into oblivion under different circumstances, while the Douglas DC-3 still continues to flyin some countries, and there even exist re-engined turboprop versions. For many, all these reasons make it the best aircraft of the twentieth century because despite all obstacles, it has already flown for more than seventy years in all parts of the world, being an icon of past and present aviation history.

The Douglas AC-47 Spooky was the first of a series of gunships developed by the US Air Force during the Vietnam War. It was estimated that more firepower was needed than that provided by light or medium aircraft in some situations where ground forces called for air support.

DC3Cockpit operated by the US Aviation Administration. This aircraft was used to verify the operation of radio navigation (VORs & NDBs) outlining federal airways.

The technical specifications of the Douglas DC-3 for civilian use were:

* Engines: 2 Wright R-1820 or Pratt & Whitney R-1830-92 Twin Wasp 1,200 HP, 14-cylinder radial arrangement of two master rods, air cooled, adjustable temperature, and 3-blade propeller variable pitch and constant speed to 2500 RPM.

* Maximum speed: 320 km / h. (173 KTAS)

* Range: 3420 km (1845 Nm)

* Crew: 3

* Passengers: from 21-28

* Wingspan: 29.11 m

* Length: 19.43 m

* Maximum weight: 11,800 kg

* Payload: 4500 kg approximately

* Landing gear: retractable conventional arrangement (two main forward and a "tail skid" back).

* Feather System which, stops the propellers to prevent them from transmitting movement and resistance to the cylinders when the engine is off.

* Landing gear and flaps operated by hydraulic systems.

* The only aircraft capable of landing with stowed landing trains without causing significant damage.

* It featured a tail skid insurer to ensure straight take-offs.

* It was equipped with heaters for each carburettor to prevent extreme cooling and control flaps to regulate temperature cylinder heads in altitude conditions.

* It had advanced systems for automatic flight control (autopilot), such as binder course (the pilot was able to turn the plane towards a specific course without using the steering column) and binder pitch, which allowed to keep the nose of the plane at a specific angle to the horizon (attitude and pitch holder).

* It was at the forefront of ADF and VOR radio navigation systems.

* The amount of cylinder characteristic of radial engines makes them extremely reliable since they can still function with several damaged cylinders. As such, engines are not easily turned off by this type of failure.
Caravelle

The Sud Aviation SE 210 Caravelle was the first French commercial turbojet, the first short and medium range commercial turbojet, and the only one with the power plant mounted in the rear fuselage.

The Caravelle is considered to be the first aircraft with a truly satisfying reaction design given that its two predecessors suffered several problems that prevented theirdevelopment. The De Havilland Comet, for instance, suffered a series of inflightaccidents which led it to be removed from service. The Avro Jetliner failed because its manufacturer could not keep up with the volume of orders. The Caravelle was one of the most popular reactors for years, being sold to companies throughout Europe and even having 20 units in service in the United States.

History

On 12 October 1951 the "Committee du Matériel Civil" (Committee on Civil Matters) published the specifications for a medium-range aircraft, which were later to be sent to the aviation industry by the Direction Technique Industrielle. The agency requested an aircraft with a capacity of between 55 and 65 passengers and 1000 kg of cargo on routes of up to 2000 kilometres with an average cruising speed of 600 km/h. The type and number of engines was not specified. Some of the first French aeronautical manufacturers had intentions to start designing this type of aircraft but they did not have the finances to carry out the work.

The response of the French industry was very positive, as some of the largest manufacturers sent at least one proposal, obtaining a total of 20 different designs. Most proposals used jet engines, although Breguet presented certain designs both with jet engines and propellers. Among these was tri-reactor Atar engine design to be developed in partnership with the "SNCA du Nord" as well asanother propeller aircraft known as Br. 978. Hurel-Dubois presented several propeller-driven narrow fuselage planes with high wings similar to several regional propeller aircraft. The proposals of the "SNCA du Sud-Ouest" included the SO60 2 Rolls-Royce Avon RA.7 with two smaller Turbomeca Marbore as auxiliary. The "SNCA du Sud-Est" sent a series of jet propulsion based designs, numbered from X-200 to X-210.

After studying the various proposals, on March 28, 1952 the "Committee du Matériel Civil" narrowed the list to 3 designs: the four-engine Avon/ Marbore S.0.60, the twin engine Avon Hurel-Dubois and the three-engine Avon Sud- X-210. At this point Rolls-Royce began offering a new version of the Avon engine that was able to develop a thrust of 40,000 N, making the auxiliary engines of the S.0.60 and the third X-210 propeller completely unnecessary.

The "Committee" requested the SNCASE to redesign the X-210 as an Avon twin-engine. Finally, they decided not to worryabout moving the two engines from the previous design which were in the rear of the plane. Although most of the designs presented mounted the engines under the wings for a lower total weight, the SNCASE thought that the savings it would achieve would not beworth the effort. This was to become an advantage for the design, because it significantly reduced the cabin noise. The revised design of the X-210, already a twin-engine Avon, was forwarded to the SGACC in July 1952.

Two months later, the SNCASE received official notification that its design had been accepted. On July 6, 1953 the SGACC had built two prototypes and two static scale models for fatigue testing of materials. The fuselage designed by the Sud mirrored quite a lot of the ideas from the late De Havillandreactor, a company with which the Sud had been dealingabout several designspreviously. The nose and cockpit were directly copied from the De Havilland Comet, whereas the rest of the aircraft was redesigned.

The first prototype was born on April 21, 1955, and flew for thefirst time on May 27. The second appeared a year later, on May 6, 1956. The first prototype had a cargo hatch on the bottom left side of the fuselage, but this was eliminated in the second, which was entirely apassenger airliner. The first order was made by Air France in 1956, followed by SAS in 1957. That year the Sud-Est merged with Sud-Ouest to become Sud Aviation, although they maintained the original SE denomination. More orders followed the first, mainly through presentations at air shows and demonstrations to potential customers. The Caravelle was certified for flight in May 1959 and shortly afterwards entered service as part of the SAS and Air Francefleets.

The emergence of new, more powerful engines allowed the creation of machines with increased take-off weight. Therefore much of the design department of Sud Aviation became committed to the design of a supersonic aircraft of the same size and scope as the Caravelle, and they called it, naturally, Super-Caravelle. However, all this work would later be consolidated with a similar project of British constructor BAC (Bristol Aeroplane Company) in the Concorde. In some configurations, the aircraft had a certain number of seats against the direction of the flight, something rare in civil aircrafts.

In total 279 Caravelles were built in all types of models, breaking the record of maximum production of a Sud Aviation aircraft, which was at 200 units. The Caravelle was thus the first airplane that reported benefits, something that was not to happen again until the 70s.

• The first clients of the Latin American continent were from Venezuela. Several of the country's airlines operated with Caravelle aircraft: Avensa, Vyasa and Aeropostal. Later, other airlines in Latin America acquired Caravelle aircraft spare parts, as was the case of San and Saeta of Ecuador.

• World Airline Fleets News reported in September 2004 that the last operating Caravelle 11R model and 3D-KIK enrolment was lost after an accident at the Gisenyi airport, in Rwanda on 28 August 2004. It flew from Kinshasa to Goma in the Democratic Republic of Congo when for unknown reasons, it attempted to land in neighbouring Gisenyi airport. Unfortunately, the runway was too short.

• In 1967, LAN Chile opened with the Caravelle the first route to Easter Island, marking a milestone in aviation history, for being the first trade route that connected the island to the South American continent. A year later it expanded this route to Tahiti and the French Polynesia.

• The May 2005 issue of Airliner World,in its special article on the 50th anniversary of the Caravelle, mentioned there are two machines that would be ready to fly. Both are in Africa, probably in Kinshasa but it looks as though we won't be seeing them in the skies any time soon.

• The first Caravelle painted with the United Airlines livery is currently in the International Airport Port Columbus of Columbus (Ohio). This aircraft never flew for the airline but it did so at the Paris Air Show of 1957 with the United States colours to promote the sale of the machine to the company. This aircraft flew for years in Brazil before being acquired by an air freight service provider in London (Ohio) in 1979. In 1982 it was donated to the Museum of Aviation History of Ohio located in the Port Columbus International Airport, having been exhibited outside the Museum for a few years. The museum closed in 1995 and the Caravelle was donated to the Port Authority of Columbus, which took it to a secluded runway. In 1998 the Airport Fire Service began to use it to train firemen against fires. Today the aircraft remains near the southeast corner of the airport in appalling conditions.

• An unpowered Caravelle is parked on the lawn at the Rennes airport in France, near Building Yankee Delta. Its condition is poor.

• Another Caravelle is located in the Stockholm Arlanda Airport in Sweden. Its engines are maintained and its hydraulic system lubricated every month. The plane belongs to "Le Caravelle Club".

McDonnell Douglas DC-10

The DC10 is a wide body passenger jet plane manufactured by American company McDonnell Douglas. It was the second plane with those characteristics to enter service after the Boeing 747, and shortly before the Lockheed L-1011 TriStar, and just like it, the DC-10 has a three engineconfiguration.

There are two motors located in gondolas under the wings while a third is in the rear of the fuselage, below the vertical stabiliser. It was designed as a successor to the Douglas DC-8 in long-haul operations, and the medium-haul competed with the Airbus A300, the Boeing B747 and the Lockheed L-1011 TriStar, which was very similar to the DC-10. Some were built as tankers for the United States Air Force for refuelling operations, and they came to be known as KC-10 Extender.

The DC10 was the first wide body McDonnell Douglas of a smaller size designed to fly the same routes as the B747. It first flew on August 29, 1970, and entered service in 1971, a year before the Lockheed Tristar, which was its main competitor. Although the safety of this model is similar to that of other heavy reaction aircrafts, during the seventies the US Federal Aviation Administration (FAA) briefly removed their airworthiness certificate due to a number of highly controversial accidents.

The DC10 was designed with cargo doors that opened outward instead of inward like most other aircrafts. This required a complex locking mechanism preventing the door from opening due to the axial forces caused by the pressurisation of the fuselage. If the closing failed, the entire door would probably break. This problem was first identified in 1972 when American Airlines Flight 96 lost the rear cargo door after taking off from Detroit. Fortunately the crew managed to make an emergency landing without further complications. The investigation revealed that an airport employee had violently forced the door, breaking the seal, and this caused the door to fall when the plane gained altitude. McDonnell Douglas criticised the employee, calling him illiterate, thus deflecting criticism from the plane's design flaws.

The United States' National Transportation Safety Board (NTSB) recommended changes in the design of the door and that the floor of the cabin to be pierced in case of violent depressurisation to allow for a controlled air leak. However, the NTSB had no authority to force changes - only the FAA could issue any instructions. Given that a public directive from the FAA would have severely damaged the reputation of the new DC10, McDonnell Douglass made all changes privately to avoid any potential scandals.

However, the improvements implemented were not as strict as the NTSB's recommendations. Two years later an identical accident happened to a Turkish Airlines model after taking off from Orly (Paris), killing all 346 passengers. After this accident, all DC10 were forced to amend their doors but by this stage, the plane had already earned itselfa very bad reputation.

In 1979, many DC10 were grounded due to the accident of American Airlines Flight 191, which lost one of its engines after taking off from the O'Hare International Airport (outside Chicago). As a result of this, the hydraulic system of the plane was damaged and caused aircraft control to be lost. It was determinedto be a procedural error in the plane's maintenance. American Airlines, like many other companies, used a procedure that was not approved by Douglas nor by the FAA, which caused the fault. Douglas redesigned the hydraulic system by adding redundancies to prevent future failures.

But the most famous accident occurred in 1989, when United Airlines Flight 232 crashed in Sioux City, after an emergency landing with inoperative hydraulic systems. The aircraft was completely destroyed but more than half of the passengerssurvived. The accident highlighted ironically one of the most notorious security measures of the DC10 as it is the only aircraft that can fly with a greatly reduced speed without using the rudder, ailerons and flaps. After the failure of the hydraulic system the pilots were able to "land" the plane.

The last DC10ever manufactured, number 446, was delivered to Nigeria Airways in early 1989. Despite the poor beginnings of this aircraft many airlines used it as pilots and mechanics were fond of it. It was also very safe - in fact, the average life of this plane without accidents is similar to that of today's planes.

Boeing 747 Jumbo

The Boeing 747, commonly nicknamed "Jumbo", is a transcontinental wide body commercial airliner manufactured by Boeing. Known for its impressive size, it is among the most recognisable aircraft in the world. It made its first commercial flight in 1970, being then the first wide body aircraft ever. Its closest rival is the even bigger Airbus A380.

The four turbofan engines of the 747 are produced by Pratt & Whitney, whose reference JT-9D was first used by this aircraft and has been later applied to other wide body aircrafts like the Douglas DC-10. Its frontal second floor has made the 747 a highly recognisable icon of air transportation. A typical arrangement in 3 classes accommodates a maximum of 416 passengers, while an arrangement of two classes accommodates a maximum of 524 passengers. The 747-400, the latest version in service, flies at subsonic speeds of Mach 0.85 (about 913 kilometres per hour), and offers a range of intercontinental action of 7260 nautical miles (13,446 kilometres).

It was expected to be obsolete after its first 400 units had been sold but the aircraft has survived all expectations and overcome all criticisms,with production reaching 1,000 units in 1993. By June 2007, 1387 aircraftshad beenbuilt, with another 120 in various configurations on request. The latest development of this aircraft, the 747-8, is planning to fly in 2010, being Lufthansa the launch customer.

The 747 is one of the aircrafts that attracts more public interest since the so-called Queen of the Skies has allowed millions of persons to travel internationally. Further, it was also the first civil wide body plane - as well as the longest and heaviest - and pioneer in the use of turbofan high bypass ratio engines which, are less polluting and noisy than conventional turbojets.

The Saudi Prince Al Walid bin Talal Abdulaziz Al Saud has been the only private owner of one of these planes.

The 747 was conceived when intercontinental travel was increasing in the sixties, a decade commonly referred to as the golden age of aviation. This new era of commercial jet transport was possible thanks to the enormous popularity of the Boeing 707 and the Douglas DC-8, machines which revolutionised long distancetravel. After losing the CX-HLScontract, Boeing was pressed by Juan Trippe, president of Pan Am (Pan American World Airways) - one of its major customers -, to build an airliner that doubled the Boeing 707's capacity. During this period, airport congestion, worsened by the rising number of passengers that had to be transported in relatively small aircraft, became serious problems that Trippe thought could be solved with a much larger aircraft.

In 1965, Joe Sutter was transferred from the Boeing 737 development team to monitor the research on a new airliner, the number of which had already been assigned – 747. Sutter initiated a design study with Pan Am and other airlines to better understand customer requirements. By then, it was thought that a supersonic power passenger aircraft such as the 747 would easily become obsolete. Boeing responded by designing the 747 so that it could easily be adapted as a freighter, and its production was to remain justifiable if its sale as airliner waned. As a freighter, the most imminent need was to transport containers that would use maritime shippingmethodologies which,had been introduced a decade ago and clearly had become the new solution to the cargo industry. The standard containers were 8 x 8 feet (2.4 x 2.4 m) in the frontal part(slightly higher if we include the attachment points) and a length ranging between 20 and 40 feet long (6-12 m). This meant it was possible to introduce two containers across and stacked over each other with two or three of them towards the bottom, taking into account the requirements of the first CX-HLS project.

In April 1966, Pan Am commissioned twenty 747-100, worth US $525 million. During the signing of contract ceremony of the 747 that took place in Seattle on the 50th anniversary of Boeing, Juan Trippe predicted that the 747 would be "a great weapon for world peace and that it would compete against intercontinental missiles in humanity's destiny", according to Malcolm T. Stamper, one of the directors of the 747 Program. As launch customer, and because of their influence before placing a formal order, Pan Am had the power to influence the design and development of the 747 beyond any airline ever did before or does now.

Information obtained from Wikipedia

Francisco Angulo

Madrid, 1976

Enthusiast of fantasy cinema and literature and a lifelong fan of Isaac Asimov and Stephen King, Angulo starts his literary career by submitting short stories to different contests. At 17 he finishes his first book - a collection of poems – and tries to publish it. Far from feeling intimidated by the discouraging responses from publishers, he decides to push ahead and tries even harder.

In 2006 he published his first novel "The Relic", a science fiction tale that was received with very positive reviews. In 2008 he presented "Ecofa" an essay on biofuels, whereAngulorecounts his experiences in the research project he works on. In 2009 he published "Kira and the Ice Storm".A difficultbut very productive year, in2010 he completed "Eco-fuel-FA",a science book in English. He also worked on several literary projects: "The Best of 2009-2010", "The Legend of Tarazashi 2009-2010", "The Sniffer 2010", "Destination Havana 2010-2011" and "Company No.12".

He currently works as director of research at the Ecofa project. Angulo is the developer of the first 2nd generation biofuel obtained from organic waste fed bacteria. He specialises in environmental issues and science-fiction novels.

His expertise in the scientific field is reflected in the innovations and technological advances he talks about in his books, almost prophesying what lies ahead, as Jules Verne didin his time.

 http://www.amazon.es/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_1?__mk_es_ES=%C3%85M%C3%85Z%C3%95%C3%91&url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=francisco+angulo&rh=n%3A599364031%2Ck%3Afrancisco+angulo

http://www.amazon.com/Francisco-Angulo/e/B0086LDX3G

 http://www.casadellibro.com/libro-el-olfateador/9788492830411/1868494

http://libros.fnac.es/a387680/Francisco-Angulo-La-reliquia

 http://librosbajodemanda.elcorteingles.es/LA-RELIQUIA-FRANCISDO-ANGULO-MANDALA---LAPIZCERO-LibroEbook-8493540102.html

http://www.amazon.com/Francisco-Angulo/e/B0086LDX3G

Other Works by the Author

2007 Ecofa – a viable solution. Editorial Mandala & Lapizcero

Synopsis

This is a book designed to get us thinking and leave no doubt in our minds. "We have not come to bring peace but war". But do not panic. We are talking about a movement of ideas and how to bring those ideas into action.

In this small paper we aim to shed some light on the much debated issue of fossil fuels which, are about to extinguish, and the biofuels, alive and well and demanding our attention as a viable and necessary alternative.

We want to be heard and without unnecessary extremisms. We wantto have our proposals to be taken into account. We firmly believe that the issue deserves everyone's full attention.

Francisco Angulois the father of the invention, a man of insatiable curiosity who by simply observing nature came up with this brilliant idea - to manufacture a green fuel from organic waste that can replace today'sgasoline and diesel. The advantages are undeniable and in the book we providedetails of them all. Antonio J. Nevado has accompanied Francisco in lecturing around the country and writing articles, convinced that this is a revolutionary invention.

http://www.amazon.es/gp/product/B00AC1DAG8

2007 An instant after the Big Bang. Editorial Wordclay

Although from our point of view a long time has gone since the Big Bang, we currently live an instant after it. Energy, moving at speeds approaching that of light, is transformed into matter. Our entire universe was created from a small particle, the primary particle that burst firing its fragments in all directions so fast that it created the whole universe. We can imagine the explosion as that produced by firework rockets. In that brief moment when the glow of the lights illuminates the sky, that's when we live.

http://www.amazon.es/gp/product/B00ABZVA5S

2008 Kira and the Ice Storm. Editorial Lulu

Again in CIAO's cyberspace but this time to talk to you about Francisco Angulo Lafuente's 2nd novel titled Kira and the Ice Storm. After launching his career as a novelist with The Relic (about which I wrote a review: http://www.ciao.es/LA_RELIQUIA_FRANCISCO_ANGULO_LAFUENTE__Opinion_1839393 _),Angulo's second book is a great challenge to the reader.

The author warns us that the lack of space-time connection between the events in the novel makes it very difficult to read it. Readers can interpret the words as they please and will have to draw their own conclusions but they might even need to re-read some of the chapters several times to understand what is happening with Agnux, the protagonist of the novel. In the author's own words: There are many different correct ways of interpreting the novel. In fact, possibly even more than one at a time.

This book, like its predecessor, has been legally downloaded from the website WWW.BUBOK.ES, a very significant project that opens the door to writers who want to distribute their novels in the challenging world of publishing. I encourage you to access his profile (http://angulo.bubok.com/) and download any of his works. They are all truly worth it.

Without further ado, I proceed to write a review about this novel, thanking you in advance for your readings, reviews and ratings.

##### STORY LINE

Kiraawakes and prepares for another day as a surgeon in the hospital. An unexpected electric ice storm forces her to take refuge in an Asian grocery store with a group of strangers. Outside, the picture is alarming - temperatures have begun dropping sharply and it's starting to freeze. Strong winds tear cornices apart, break trees, make cars fly... no one is safe, not even the store where they are hiding so the group decides to move to the town shelter, a school located at a considerable distance. Soon they concoct a plan to keep a badly wounded person hit by an out-of-control car driven by Timsafe, while they move to the building where other storm survivors were supposed to be hiding.

Meanwhile, a scientist by the name of Agnux, deep in thought, hits a lamppost. The wound in his head will not stop bleeding. An acquaintance from the library he frequents offers her assistance and something else...- a sensual date that will lead to a passionate romance. Agnux had always neglected love somewhat and as soon as it arrived, it left him. A disease in advanced stages takes the life of the woman who ended up being the love of his life. Agnux is immersed in a world of Bubbles \- smallparallel space-time universes encapsulated in these structures that allow time travel. His goal is to turn the clock back a few years and get doctors to discover his wife illness in time to find a cure that prevents her death.

Alb is the director of a pioneering scientific experiment - a machine that allows time travel. An error turned what was meant to be a revolutionary invention into an utter disaster. A few scientists had disappeared as the prototype was being tested and Albhad now committed the rest of his life to bringing them back to where they belonged.

The novel comprises several storylines, a priori unrelated. As if by magic, everything starts to make sense and soon stories become intertwined to each other to form a whole. What initially seems to make no sense turns out to be a great story with a happy ending.

MAIN AND SECONDARY CHARACTERS

In order of appearance:

  * Kira: a young woman of humble background who has fulfilled her dream and is now a surgeon working in a hospital.

  * Oso: a man in his fifties who drive the powerful Manuela. Oso is shortand stocky, has brutish appearance, a large abdomen, greyish hair and reddish skin.

  * Tim: the driver who runs over a pedestrian during the ice storm. Generally not very well liked, but his peculiar way of speaking characteristic of Southern Spain gets others to do what he wants them to. He works in a psychiatric hospital and loves tormenting and torturing inmates. They know him as Tim, the Fat.

  * Agnux: dedicated entirely to his work and to reading books about relativistic theories, he has never been interesting in finding love. He will without almost without realising it.

  * Mr. Chang: Asian grocery store owner. Despite not knowing the vernacular, he knows perfectly well the name of all products he sells.

  * Phil: a stout 37 year old man of few words from India. He stars in a spectacular rescue of a mother and daughter trapped in their car under the ice storm. He works in a clothing stores, in a family business. His real name Esmun-rabi-malga-frun-ragendra-chanchanawi.

  * Barbara: woman rescued with her daughter Sindy by Phil.

  * Samuel: a tall, thin man in his 60s, slightly hunched, half white-half grey haircombed back. Avowed atheist. He is sick and needs medication to survive.

  * David: trapped in the ice storm, David finds a radio and discovers the gravity of the situation.

  * Security guard: he works at a bank. He is quite the 'handyman' and manages to manipulate the cables of a CPU powered by a UPS to get the coffee machine working. Something much needed at the time.

  * Police: another of the men trapped in the bank during the ice storm. His diet of donuts and coffee had developed a "life float" around his waist.

  * Alb: white haired old man with powerful and authoritative voice but soft and sweet and full of vitality. An old brilliant scientist who worked on the construction of inhibitory machine radars, which later became something no one expected nor understood.

  * Pasca: Intern at a psychiatric hospital where Tim aka The Embers works.

  * Steve: banker who survived the Ice Storm.

  * León: aman with a large, round head, as red as a tomato result of the NBC (anti biofouling) uniform he wears. He is drunk because of his affection for a particular brand of anise liqueur, San Blás (he is also one of the characters from Angulo's previous novel The Relic).

LOCATIONS

This novel takes place in different locations, starting with Mr Chang's Asian grocery store which is used as a refuge from the electric ice storm that sweeps the city. Then, there's the bank where they are forced to make a stop on the way to the shelter that is their final destination, continuing through the dark corridors of the different buildings they cross and ending with the gloomy scenario encountered upon arrival at the school. Nobody, apart from the survivors in each of these locations, seems to have survived the storm. Where is everyone? What is really happening? Can there be an ice storm as powerful as this?

Other locations appear randomly in different chapters, such as the psychiatric hospital where Pascahad spent a long while and where Oso works mistreating patients. Each time-space bubbleintroduces us to a completely different setting – now we are ina magnificent pyramid of the past, now we are in a futuristic place, in which a transparent crystal building seems to know the fate of its visitors, guiding them through its corridors with sign posts that appear and disappear.

EDITION

This is the 2nd edition of this novel published first in December 2010. Since it has been published in WWW.BUBOK.ES, the copyright is in the name of the author himself, Francisco Angulo. The book's dimensions are 15 x 21 cm and it has a total of 187 black and white pages, divided into various chapters of different extensions. It belongs to the category of science fiction and fantasy.

As of today, this novel has already had a total of 272 downloads and that number is increasing. You can get it directly from the following Web address both in .pdf or .epub formats: http://www.bubok.es/libros/197236/Kira-y-la-tormenta-de-hielo-KIRA-AND -THE-ICE-STORM.

You can also purchase it from the same link for €10.13 (excluding shipping and taxes).

The cover, in white and blue tones, shows the beautiful microscopic structure of anenlarged snowflake.

The back cover includes a small photo of the author with his biography and the warning already mentioned in this introduction in relation to the possible difficulty involved in reading this book.

ISBN: 978-1-4467-3396-7

STRUCTURE

The novel begins with the author's warning about the challenges this book poses and the author's recommendations for its optimal reading and understanding, such as reading it in an environment free from distractions that may interfere with our capacity to focus.

  * Chapter 1.The Ice Storm: Kira starts a new day and is on the way to the hospital where she works when a sudden electric hail storm causes a fatal accident in which she will play a key role.

* Chapter 2. Day 471:next to the woman you love.

* Chapter 3. Demolition:Oso discovers a series underground labyrinths as he is about to demolish a building of immense historical value.

* Chapter 4. Agnux:on his way to the library, engrossed in deep thought, he crashes his car against a lamppost that causes a deep wound in his eyebrow. A woman he knew from the library offers her assistance, and a little more...

* Chapter 5. Kira and Ice Storm:some are rescued, some are lost, and some seek for a safe refuge in this chapter.

* Chapter 6. Day 463: him, her and no one else ... nothing else.

* Chapter 7. Bubbles: small universes from which it is very difficult to escape.

* Chapter 8. El Prado: a cathedral made of trees, grass and clouds.

* Chapter 9. Operation "_... until death do us apart ..._", and death did them apart.

* Chapter 10. Kira and Ice Storm: a plan to leave the bank and transport patients to the hospital.

* Chapter 11. Day 451: nightmares awake forgotten ghosts.

* Chapter 12. Bubble 1: Alb explains the inexplicable, the existence of other parallel space-time dimensions.

* Chapter 13. Ice Storm:The storm depletesthe city of gas and electricity.

* Chapter 14. Alb:bears a striking resemblance to actor Sean Connery.

* Chapter 15. The Embers:we discover Tim's actual work and that he was the intern who had escaped and known by the alias The Embers and who is persecuted for hitting a bystander at the door of Mr. Chang's grocery store.
* Chapter 16. Kira and the Ice Storm: a bumpy ride brings them a little closer to the meeting point after the ice storm catastrophe.

* Chapter 17. Day 450: a minor scare without any significance.

* Chapter 18. Lost:are there any other survivors after the ice storm?

* Chapter 19. Bubble 2: Alb and Agnux access another bubble from where they must find the exit.

* Chapter 20. Young Pasca: how he was tortured when he was six years old and about his fascination with fire.

* Chapter 21. Agnux I dreamt about her again: people die but their memories live within us.

* Chapter 22. Bubble 3: meeting between Alb, Agnux, Bear and Pasca.

* Chapter 23. Kira and Ice Storm: the entire group makes its way through the buildings to shorten their distance from their finalrefuge.

* Chapter 24. Day 443:Reflections...

* Chapter 25. Quality: what can be considered good qualities in a person?

* Chapter 26. Bubble 4: again another bubble from which they will escape.

* Chapter 27. Past Times: why do we only photograph good times? Perhaps, if we only recorded our unhappiest moments, we'd feel happier (reflection). Good times only help us remember better times that will never return.
* Chapter 28. Happy times: time distorts and changes the concept of happiness.

* Chapter 29. Kira and Ice Storm: the group finally makes it to the refuge safely.

* Chapter 30. Day 290:Agnux continues reflecting. We discover he is traveling back in time to save his wife's death.

* Chapter 31. Bubble 5:climbing an enormous pyramidal structure will be the greatest challenge to escape this bubble where they'll lose track of Oso.

* Chapter 32. Experiment:Alb and Agnux prepare to show that time is not uniform as we perceive it.

* Chapter 33. Oso: a real 'character'.

* Chapter 34. Bubble 6: a new bubble, this time inside a transparent construction. Pasca will help find the exit, but they'll lose his track.

* Chapter 35. Bubble 7:DoesAgnux reunite with his wife?

* Chapter 36. Kira and Ice Storm: the different storylines begin to intertwine to weave a common thread. Everything makes sense.

* Chapter 37. Day 95: can we alter the course of our personal history?

* Chapter 38. Bubble 8:again another new dimension, a false representation of Kira, who happens to be Agnux's wife and a getaway in a sports car.

* Chapter 39. The Complex: on how those strange underground labyrinthine were illuminated.

* Chapter 40. The death of Agnux's father: reflections on our existence in this world.

* Chapter 41. Kira and Ice Storm: once the machine is disconnected, everything will return to its normal state.

* Chapter 42. Day 94: Agnux visits the doctor with Kira and Alb doubles specialist, changing the course of history.

* Chapter 43. Thoughts:Are we unique or are wecreated with the same pattern?

* Chapter 44. Bubble 9: Agnux and Kira's stories eventually intertwine.

* Chapter 45. Day 0: Agnux and Kira finally begin a new life with an unknown future.

Annex: we are introduced to Agnux's scientific theories:

  * The Fridge and the Time Machine:when travelling through time gravity eliminates movement, heat emissions stop and temperature drops to 0.

  * Why doesn't ET call home?signalstransmitted today can reach their destination fractionated and in a different order tomorrow. That's why interpreting them is so costly.

  * The speed at which we move: is relative but can be calculated by taking a point of reference.

  * Does time really advance forward? Is there a Universal Cosmic Clock?theories on the calculation of time.

  * A Message on a Quantum: one of the methods that can be used to travel in time.

  * The Interchangeable Past: any changes in the past will be automatically removed from our mind. Therefore, we will never be aware of changes that occur in the past.

  * The Machine: the findings ofan experiment based on Albert Einstein's Theory of Relativity are here explained.

  * Elastic Space - Doppler Effect: a rubber band is used to explain this strange effect.

PERSONAL OPINION

This is Francisco Angulo Lafuente's second novel and I halve no qualms stating that it surpasses his first, The Relic (interestingly, Angulo introduces here one of the charactersof his earlierstory – León). Since the very first pages the mysterious ice storm captures the readers' attention inviting them to discover Kira's destination page after page. On the other hand, we learn about the mysterious bubbles Agnux and Alb must enter to step back in time and prevent Agnux's wife's seemingly unavoidable death.

This novel is food for thought. There are plenty of questions that makes us all ponder about our existence: Can we be certain that we are not living in a bubble in a space-time that'snot the actual space-time? How can we know what time should we use as reference? What is the past and what is the future? Why do we need to suffer so much? Perhaps we are mere puppets whose strings are movedby a higher being?

There is no doubt in my mind that reading this novel will not leave you indifferent. It has certainly stirred something inside me that has already been questioning our existence in this world for a long time: try to leave the bubble, exchange roles and become an observer rather than being observed ... what do you see?

Some quotes to remember:

  * Page 8: It is by overcoming difficulties that a sense ofhumanityis revealed in urbanites living like ants.

  * Page 16: Nothing is left to chance, God does not play dice.

  * Page 42: We may have lost some of our humanity by blindly trusting science.

  * Page 64: It seems that the thin line between sanity and madness is not well defined and, depending on who judges or mere chance, one could be the patient or nurse.

  * Page 99: If shit had value, the poor would be born without ass.

  * Page 159: Are we just puppets in a performance designed to amuse a superior being?

After all this, would I recommend Kira and the Ice Storm?

100%

This is a short book that can be read in a couple of days. Although at first it may seem that nothing makes sense, do not give up and continue reading without missinga single detail, because in the end all the characters and their stories are related.

Review by: Angel Luis Caballero Wizner

http://www.amazon.es/gp/product/B00AC482NG

2008 A viable solution. Google book. Press reviews: The New York Times, El País, El Mundo, La Vanguardia, 20 Minutos...

A group of Spanish developers working under the company name Ecofasa, headed by chief executive officer and inventor Francisco Angulo, has developed a biochemical process to turn ur-ban solid waste into a fatty acid biodiesel feedstock. "It took more than 10 years working on the idea of producing biodiesel from domestic waste using a biological method," Angulo told Bio-diesel Magazine. "My first patent dates back to 2005. It was first published in 2007 in Soto de la Vega, Spain, thanks to the council and its representative Antonio Nevado."

Using microbes to convert organic material into energy isn't a new concept to the renewable energy industries, and the same can be said for the anaerobic digestion of organic waste by microbes, which turns waste into biogas consisting mostly of methane. However, using bacteria to convert urban waste to fatty acids, which can then be used as a feedstock for biodiesel production, is a new twist. The Spanish company calls this process and the resulting fuel Ecofa.

http://www.amazon.es/gp/product/B00AC18QTE

2009 The best. Bubok Editorial

My name is Phil, I am Special Forces sergeant and the last human being. I am trying with all my might to put my thoughts in order, to continue, to not fail, but the virus spreads through my body and poisons my mind. My heart beats as if it would burst any time. I feel unbearable pain, my brain seems to enlarge and press against my skull. Hatred andwrath have become uncontrollable. I walk without hardly knowing what my fate will be...

http://www.amazon.es/gp/product/B00AC0L41W

2009 The legend of the Tarazashi. Editorial Smashwords

My people had always lived in harmony with nature, and the earth was our mother.

Our territories extended north to the tall mountains and south to the great river. That was all we knew, none of us had ever gone beyond. My grandfather tells me stories about our people when we sit by the heat of the bon fire at night. Our ancestors were forced to cross the snowy peaks of high mountains because they were nomads who walked aimlessly, living on what they found along the way. In this beautiful spot a dream revealed to them how to cultivate the land. Now we had plenty of food and it was not necessary to continue wandering. Our diet was vegetarian only in times of scarcity. In the harshest winters we resorted to hunting. All living creatures of the forest were part of our family and we tried to interfere as little as possible, letting Mother Nature carry on with her work.

http://www.amazon.es/gp/product/B00AC486FA

2011 The Sniffer. LapizCero Editions

Memory fails me more and more. I have been sober for years but I'm still getting up every morning with a hangover. I might have fallen asleep on the couch as soon as I arrived from work. No reason to be alarmed...

I have an appointment with the doctor today. I hope all tests are ok as I cannot afford to be off work. Besides, at my age, they'd probably end up giving me an early retirement. I cannot even think about it. I have dedicated all my life to work and would not know what to do without it.

Although I am homicide inspector, my work at the station is usually not too glamorous and I end up filling up papers, dealing with complaints and grievances between neighbours and, occasionally, investigating the suspicious death of a cow. My memory, over the years, has been weakened, but I still remember clearly what happened that summer in 1988: murder of little Lisa. The incident shocked the whole city and it was even aired on national television. I am still gathering information about the case in my spare time, hoping to find the murderer someday.

http://www.amazon.es/gp/product/B00AC48V6E

 http://www.casadellibro.com/libro-el-olfateador/9788492830411/1868494

The Relic

2006 The Relic. Published by Mandala Editors

http://www.amazon.es/gp/product/B00ABL1B74

The Relic -A perfect marriage between science and fantasy

STORY LINE

Hazel Eyes will introduce us to this novel. Her story is recounted by a rather special narrator: The Relic, which initially appears as a statue worshiped by the tribe to which Hazel Eyes belongs.

New characters soon emerge as Leónthe trucker, little Elías, cell mates Bean Bran and Flat Plano and the very complex María. Their personal stories initially make us believe they are very different people with nothing in common but as the novel develops the bonds between them slowly unravel.

The Relicwill travel and change location constantly, describing the different civilisations that worship it. This can be a little confusing for the reader but everything does make sense at the end of the story. The small statue came to our planet with an important mission. Time is running out and The Relic is about to complete its task but in order to accomplish it, it will have to transmit all its knowledge to the only person that can complete the mission.

There are chapters about scientific matters scattered throughout the novel, dealing with issues such as black holes, the relative speed of light and the creation of the universe, all of them explained in a way that everyone can understand.

There are also random chapters on different topics such as the tsunami in Arica in 1868, or a number of different inventions like a life jacket that heats up as it comes in contact with water.

CHARACTERS

In order of appearance:

  * Hazel Eyes: this is the name of the first character we meet in the novel. A young member of a tribe, Hazel Eyes is slim and small in stature, very lively and energetic. She shows interest in everything around her, so much so that she learns to understand nature and take advantage of everything it offers.

  * León: A clumsy trucker in his fifties. Large round head, prominent handsand reddish face caused by his excessive love for anise of the Sanblás brand which, makes putting the key in the lock of his house as difficult as it was for William Tell to hit that infamous apple with an arrow. His habit of becoming distracting when looking for and light cigarettes while driving make him a danger on the road. He can easily start a conversation with just about anyone, especially when his stomach is warmed up by a few glasses of anise. He is married and has three children aged four, five and seven years.

  * Elías: a lonely, unsociable little boy who has trouble making friends. He lives alone with her mother and they face great economic difficulties. A small puppy named Tarzan will be his only companion during childhood.

  * Bean Brain: skinny and lanky, Bean Brain is León'scellmate. An anxious man with a stutter, prominent cheekbones, sunken cheeks, bulging eyes, big lipless mouth, misplaced rows of teeth and a back with clearly protruding vertebrae. Because of his aspect he does not inspire trust.

  * Flat: another of León's cellmates. Chubby, quiet, conformist and not very bright, Flat earns a living by stealing safes.

  * Mr Cheng: Monk responsible for running a monastery. A fat man with a four-hair moustache who dresses in a black silk robe with white trims. He is in charge of protecting the Relic in times of invasion.

  * María: a restless girl with thin arms, short jet black hair, brighteyes, fleshy and clearly outlined lips, long face and well-defined chin, and brown skin. María is very self-conscious about her physical, a fact that makes her very unsociable. She loves reading, the impressionist appearance of thetress in the park in autumn, animals (especially her dove Sparkles), the teddies in the town's fair and believes in love at first sight.

  * Policeman: A motorised agent who does not give up easily before adversity. He is Elias' former childcare classmate, nicknamed Mouse.

  * Police Captain: A big, rough-looking man with huge hands.

LOCATIONS

The story encompasses different time frames although one of the dates that can be taken as a reference to locate the most recent events (those related to León, Elías, Bean Brain, Flat and María) is June 4, 1978.

August 8, 1868 is another of the dates listed in the book, and it coincides with incomparable disaster suffered by the Chilean city of Arica, a tsunami that devastated everything inits path (and while this chapter has nothing to do with the main plot of the book, it is narrated as a story parallel to the heavy rains experienced by the characters in the novel).

The geographical location is not defined. We know some places like the Spanish province of León (where the trucker delivered milk for a season), and some Latin American countries like Peru, Chile and Bolivia.

The Relic also narrates the unfolding of missions not only on this planet but also in other galaxies (the so-called dead planets).

EDITION

* Digital Edition: A .pdf file consisting of a total of 295 pages, divided into multiple chapters, most of them very brief, that will take up approximately 12 hours reading time. Despite being a digital file, the book consists of a cover (with a binary code that pre-empts the scientific content of the narration) and back cover (with a brief summary by Xavier de Tusalle).

* Printed edition: Although I don't have it with me, the Bubok website indicates that its dimensions are 150 X 120 cm, and it includes it in the category of narrative, subcategory science fiction and fantasy. The book is edited by Mandala & Pencil Zero in 2006 and endorsed by the Independent Writers Circle Ñ (cinema). The price is 16€.

You can download it from the link below http://www.bubok.com/libros/197259/la-reliquia

ISBN: 84-935401-0-2

As I mentioned earlier, the novel is divided into a series of small chapters which I briefly summarise as follows:

1. Brown Eyes: The name of the first character we meet in this novel. Angulo describes the life of this tribal girl until the end of her days.

2. The Creation of the Universe: Herethe origin of matter is explained from a scientific point of view.

3. An Instant after the Big Bang: the very instant in which we live. It explains what the Big Bang was and the possibility of a Big Crack returning matter to its initial state.

4. Evolution:brief notes on the development of the human species.

5. About León: we are introduced to another character, the trucker León.

6. León'sAmazing Stories: some real, others not so much but all part of the life of this peculiar character.

7. The Relic:Forced to changed location several times as a result of the ice age that was displacing thousands of people south in search of warmer places.

8. Space and Matter do not exist:the faster the speed, the more matter there is. If there is no speed, matter will disappear to become energy.

9. About Elías:we learn about this character's childhood, the sadness he experienced in kindergarten, the loneliness in his school and how he found his best friend, a puppy named Tarzan.

10. The Relic:Hazel Eye's children are also dedicated to cultivating grains. Over time they separate and soon the distance makes them forget their roots and the ties that bind them all.

11. Zero:A human invention. Zero does not exist in nature because everything is quantifiable and yet zero is indispensable in our lives today.

13. About León: The Sanblás anise is to blame for León provoking an accident, having his driver's license revoked, his wife leaving him and ending up in prison.

14. León'sAmazing Stories: this time Leon tells us another of his stories (whether real or fictional) driving along the never-ending roads of Australia where he is to meet chattering crocodiles, and singing fishes and oysters.

15. The Vibrational Universe: "the vibration of the universe is what gives mass to matter."

16. The Weight of Light, "will depend on the frequency of vibration".

17. The Relic: this time the monk Cheng will be forced to leave the monastery where he was staying and to safeguard The Relic.

18. María: we are introduced to this new character, her strengths and weaknesses, her in-interests and concerns.

19. Elías: He describes the frequent attacks he had been suffering since little and how the only place where he felt safe was at home. The memories of his childhood friend Mouse re-emerge.

20. The Relic:It now travels to the New World in an evangelising mission where it will again meet Hazel Eyes' children.

21. About Elias' mother: talks about her illness, caused by years of working in a chemical factory.

22. María: a new dress, an unexpected tomato rain and a torrential thunderstorm. Is Maria dreaming or is it all real?

23. León's Amazing Stories:he relates the time when he distributed milk around the province of León.

24. About León: along with his two cellmates, Flat and Bean Brain, plan and rob a bank but nothing will go as planned and improvisation will be their only way out.

25. Flat: his life was never easy. Married young and with a son, Flathad to leave school to find work and support his family. We discover how the bank robbery ends and how María and Flat's stories intersect in the torrential rain.

26. Rotating black holes: a small sphere rotating at high speeds acquires mass and can become a small black hole.

27. About Elías: we find out about his fear of darkness and his dreams, some pleasantand other scary. His continuous attacks become increasingly aggravated and frequent. We discover his unique purpose: to solve environmental problems by developing environmentally friendly fuels and more efficient propellers.

28. How to Obtain Methanol by ignition from Pulp and Organic Wastefor Use in Explosion Engines:we learn the process involved in obtaining fuels from organic remains turned into garbage.

29. Self-inflating Thermochemical Vest: a very useful invention that allows the vest to heat up in water, keeping the lifeguard warmer longer, thus increasing the chances of survival of the persons in an emergency.

30. Method for obtaining fuels from organic waste and wood chips: a process similar to the earlier mentioned invention with the only difference that other type of waste can be used such as paper, cardboard or wood chips and branches.

31. Battery made of Replaceable ReactiveComponents: a new generation of easily rechargeable ecological batteries.

32. María and Flat: and how they tried to save themselves from the torrential rain that was falling upon the entire world.

33. The Wharf:María, Flat and a dog find a boat and try to rescue everyone they find on their way. Unfortunately the boat run aground leaving everyone on board risking a very bleak end.

34. Chronic of the Arica Tsunami, 1868:narrates the account of the tsunami that hit the northern Chilean city of Arica in 1868.

35. The Relic: here the stories of Elías, his neighbour León and his mate Bean Brain intersect. The latter holds the other two hostage, asking police for a million dollars in small bills and a helicopter as ransom. The Relic mysteriously reappears in León's home, which is where they are.

36. About María: finally the rain stops, the water level drops and the group of survivors disperses to continue with their lives. The dog that had helped them throughout this ordeal disappears without anyone noticing.

37. The Relic:León gets better. The policeman takes control of the situation while the water level decreases.

38. About Elías:the hostage situation comes to an end and Elías begins a new life.

39. The Relic: it all starts to make sense: the existence of The Relic, Elias 'mysterious attacks and other.

40. The relative Speed of Light: and how it depends on the point of view taken as reference.

41. About Flat: his recovery after the heavy rains and how he fulfils his dream with the proceeds from the robbery.

42. The Relic: where the initial story of Hazel Eyes is remembered and the union that had been established between the Relic and Elías becomes clearer.

43. The gardeners:these beings are responsible for carrying the probe and leaving it to terraform a planet so that it regulates the weather and is able to support life.

44. The Relic: here the stories of María, Elías and Hazel Eyes intersect. Everything has an explanation after all.

45. The Relic: the terraforming process is explained from the moment the probe is released in dead worlds to provide them with life.

46. The gardeners:and how they obtain energy from hydrogen found in the water or in the air. It also explains the lifestyle of the Gardeners and their superiority over our species. The paths of Elías and María are separated for ever.

47. High Energy Particles – time travellers: "These particles follow all universal rules, and since they are not able to travel faster than the speed of light when they near it, they disappear".

PERSONAL OPINION

The Relic is a very enjoyable and entertaining that offers informative, thought-provoking chapter and mixes many different topics. Some chapters may be a little difficult to understand because they are a little too scientific and technical.

The chapter division and structure has surprised me as I have never read a book like it before. My first contact with an eBook has been satisfactory. Although, I must also mention that reading a novel on a computer screen is tiring on my sight and is not something I would do frequently. I think digital book readers should be prepared to read in a way that is not as damaging to their eyes.

The characters are well characterised and defined, both physical and psychologically (especially Elías and María).

Some scenes are very funny, as the chapter in which León, Flat and Bean Brain try to rob a bank and nothing goes as planned. Others are quite distressing, as the moment in which María is dragged by an unexpected rainstorm or during the tense negotiations between the police chief and the kidnapper. There are also some inexplicable events like the appearance of The Relic in León's home and the slowing of the speed of the bullets fired by the police on Bean Brain, or the miraculous healing of the wound caused by the impact of the bullet that hit León but within the genre of fantasy and science fiction anything is possible.

It is possible that when you start reading this novel you feel a little disoriented and find it difficult to determine the relationship between the characters but as the end nears, all ties are tightly bound.

Would I recommend it? A resounding yes because this is a book that is completely different from any you may have read. It also represents a first point of contact between Francisco Angulo and his potential readers.

Review by Angel Luis Caballero Wizner

Company No. 12

This is a true story. Francisco is a 19 yearold who has been called for military service. He has no clue that this place will change him forever and that he will have to fight for his life. Legends, stories of ghostly presences that occur in the middle of the night, tormented souls, wandering spirits, ghosts who attack and kill the soldiers abound in Company N.12. Military reports show an infinite list of fatalities, young people lost their lives in the line of duty always due to more or less explainable causes.

The names of the characters have been changed, and the story that led to the deaths of many of these young men is mere speculation. As of today there is no conclusive evidence of the events that took place in Company No. 12.

http://www.amazon.es/gp/product/B007SRU7VK

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