Their father was waiting for them in Gijón harbour. He was very dark and thin, and had a beard that covered half his face. He was wearing a greatcoat they’d never seen before with a rifle slung over his back. They almost couldn’t recognize him. He hugged them and rubbed his face against theirs, so that Rose laughed and exclaimed, “How itchy you are!” Their father carried on hugging them and making a noise with his nose, as if sniffing or something. Rose laughed, but Harmony realized it wasn’t a laughing matter and asked, “How long will we be there?” Their father replied, “A very short time. We’ll soon be back together again and happy.”

Harmony thought that was what they had said when they took them to the orphanage, but she didn’t make any remark. Their father took out a book from his backpack and added:

“You’ll make lots of friends there, but I brought you this because you know a book is…”

The two girls chorused out loud:

“A friend forever!”

Their father embraced them once more, and Harmony asked:

“What about Mother?”

Their father explained their mother was at the front, helping those who were fighting, so everything would finish sooner, but she would arrive any moment now. He put his arms around their shoulders, pressed them to himself, and they remained in silence, waiting for their mother to arrive.

Almost all the children were accompanied by a relative, and almost all of them were crying.

Harmony felt her throat was constricting, but she didn’t want to cry because she knew, if she cried, Rose would cry as well. She was already pouting her lips and asking, “Where is Mummy?”

Harmony didn’t ask, but she started to be afraid that their mother wasn’t going to arrive in time, and she hugged her father until she could feel the warmth of his body through the cloth of his coat. Their father clapped her on the back as he would do with her grandfather and uncles:

“You have to be strong, Harmony. You’re twelve now, almost a full-grown woman, and you have to watch out for your sister.”

She nodded, but looked at the boat, which seemed ugly and sad, even more than the orphanage.

It came time to leave, and still their mother wasn’t there. Their father told the women from the Red Cross that his wife was at the front, that was why she was late, but she would be here soon, the others could embark first.

Those who were on their own boarded first because there was no one to keep them on land. The women in charge of placing the children on the ship almost had to wrench the others out of their families’ arms. “Please, please!” they kept saying. “Leave the children alone, remember it’s for their own good.”

But all the children were crying their eyes out, staggering blindly up the gangway, turning around, waving goodbye and blowing kisses to those on dry land.

Harmony and Rose were the last to go on board. Their father asked them not to cry and told them, when their mother arrived, she would board the ship and say goodbye. In a trickle of a voice, Harmony said:

“Really, Father?”

Their father replied of course she would, that was why they were fighting at the front, for the good of Spain, so that everybody could lead better, happier lives, and the people in the boat admired and respected those fighting in the Republican army.

Harmony gripped Rose’s hand and climbed on to the boat, looking back all the time to see if their mother would arrive. But she didn’t turn up.

The boat was a French cargo ship which didn’t have cabins or decks like a passenger ship. The children were immediately stowed in the hold, which resembled a large, hollow nut. It didn’t have any windows, and the little light there was came in through a hole in the ceiling, which was how you got in. There were lots of children and not much room. The people from the Red Cross were kept very busy trying to settle them all down, and the ship’s crew also ran about, handing out blankets and bags of food.

Harmony kept looking at the hole in the ceiling, so she could run to meet her mother if she appeared there – there were so many children, in all that darkness, she might not be able to see them. Their mother didn’t appear, but one of the women in the Red Cross started shouting:

“Harmony, Harmony! Where is Harmony?”

And when Harmony got up to answer, she said:

“Your mother is on the quay, asking for you.”

Harmony took Rose’s hand and started leaping over the other children, but a sailor and one of the Red Cross women blocked their way, saying it was too late, the boat was about to weigh anchor and they couldn’t go out. They gestured to another woman to take the girls back to their place.

Rose was crying and asking Harmony:

“What will Mother say if we don’t go out?”

Harmony recalled what her father had said about looking after her sister, who was only six, and, being the elder of the two, she made a great effort not to cry and said:

“She’ll understand it wasn’t our fault. Don’t cry. When we get there, we’ll write her a letter and tell her all about it.”