The night after our being detained by Catalonian Separatists, we headed off again in the cooler night air, continuing on towards Madrid.
Again in a mountainous area, at a bend in the road, you guessed it - another roadblock! Just as the night before, an uniformed officer asked for our papers. Only this guy was really nervous - so nervous that father was actual getting concerned for our safety! Father tried to get a conversation going but the guy just got on his radio and talked so rapidly no one knew what he was saying.
Several minutes later, a military jeep drives up with some - what I am guessing were Spanish MPs. One of them was quite fluent in English and from the car I caught the gist of the conversations - they had managed to drive too close to the shoulder of the road with a tractor trailer hauling a nuke and rolled it.
Father then identified himself, more talking on the radio and they were off - father to inspect said nuke and to supervise the correct reloading to the carrier on the trailer.
Once completed, father returned and we drove on with lots of smiles and hand waving by those still working on the mess they had made.
It was the first time I had ever seen one of the newer missiles and I was impressed. No idea as to which one it was but it was cool to see something you heard about but no one had any pictures of.....
Showing posts with label Spain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Spain. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Held In Catalonia
In 1966 father decided we needed to spend the summer camping our way through Spain, Portugal and of course - Gibraltar. Summer was perhaps a poor choice since the heat was unbelievable - hitting 121 on several occasions! I can remember watching the tar on the roads bubbling when we would stop for a lunch or stretching.
So, we drove and camped our way south through France, through Andorra and then down into Spain.
It was late at night when we entered Spain. As we wound down the narrow gravel road from Andorra and the heights of the Pyrenees Mountains, we were forced to stop at a roadblock. A uniformed officer approached, asked for our papers, was delighted to practice his English and then spent some time on a walkie-talkie. Returning the papers, he explained that the road would be closed for a few hours due to highway construction. So, we were stuck.
About thirty minutes later a group of women approached, walking up the road, set up a table and motioned us to come join them. A large pot was set out, along with plates and bowls. They were providing a meal! We marveled at Spanish hospitality! The soup was good but the bread was first class! Dad and the officer talked quite a bit - father in Spanish, the officer in English. Though we could not know it, father was about to use a whole lot more Spanish in an official capacity!
Once done, the ladies packed up all of their stuff and trotted back down the road and around a bend we could not see beyond. A short time later the officer returned again and told us that we could now pass the construction zone but to be very careful as workers were still on the roadway and to stay far right. So we started down and around the bend.
What we were to pass by was miles of what looked like concrete water pipe. Workers, hundreds of them, were busy drilling holes in the pipe. It made no sense, but having no real knowledge of construction, who knows what they were doing! We continued on through the night, eventually reaching a campground by early morning, where we set up and went to bed.
About mid-day we were awaken by the local police whom told us they were interviewing all travelers and wanted to know if we had come from the north the night before. We said we had and then father told them all about the road construction the night before, the great soup and bread, and then being allowed to continue on after a while.
We then learned that Catalonian Separatists had bee sabotaging the new water pipe construction project. Ah, that explains all of the holes in the pipe - they were making it unusable! Then across many questions we were to learn about Franco's problems in Catalonia, the guerrilla movement and the policeman's concerns over Communist activities in the area. Of course, as we were to find, Franco's freedom was so heavily socialist and the people so preyed upon by the government - no wonder people were involved in what father called Monkey Warfare.....
So, we drove and camped our way south through France, through Andorra and then down into Spain.
It was late at night when we entered Spain. As we wound down the narrow gravel road from Andorra and the heights of the Pyrenees Mountains, we were forced to stop at a roadblock. A uniformed officer approached, asked for our papers, was delighted to practice his English and then spent some time on a walkie-talkie. Returning the papers, he explained that the road would be closed for a few hours due to highway construction. So, we were stuck.
About thirty minutes later a group of women approached, walking up the road, set up a table and motioned us to come join them. A large pot was set out, along with plates and bowls. They were providing a meal! We marveled at Spanish hospitality! The soup was good but the bread was first class! Dad and the officer talked quite a bit - father in Spanish, the officer in English. Though we could not know it, father was about to use a whole lot more Spanish in an official capacity!
Once done, the ladies packed up all of their stuff and trotted back down the road and around a bend we could not see beyond. A short time later the officer returned again and told us that we could now pass the construction zone but to be very careful as workers were still on the roadway and to stay far right. So we started down and around the bend.
What we were to pass by was miles of what looked like concrete water pipe. Workers, hundreds of them, were busy drilling holes in the pipe. It made no sense, but having no real knowledge of construction, who knows what they were doing! We continued on through the night, eventually reaching a campground by early morning, where we set up and went to bed.
About mid-day we were awaken by the local police whom told us they were interviewing all travelers and wanted to know if we had come from the north the night before. We said we had and then father told them all about the road construction the night before, the great soup and bread, and then being allowed to continue on after a while.
We then learned that Catalonian Separatists had bee sabotaging the new water pipe construction project. Ah, that explains all of the holes in the pipe - they were making it unusable! Then across many questions we were to learn about Franco's problems in Catalonia, the guerrilla movement and the policeman's concerns over Communist activities in the area. Of course, as we were to find, Franco's freedom was so heavily socialist and the people so preyed upon by the government - no wonder people were involved in what father called Monkey Warfare.....
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
OMG Off Spain
It was my birthday 1966. The family all went to Basle for the winter carnival - my favorite!, to celebrate. Okay it is really my and my mother's birthday, we were born on the same day and knowing my father this was really for her but I will claim it! :^)
On January 17, we headed back for home, up in the little notch where Belgium, Luxembourg and France are all joined together. But, something was wrong on the Swiss - French border, Father was requested to leave the car and go to the guard shack. Very odd.
When he came back, he was really in a state of agitation. Seems the US had lost a B-52 over Spain, equipped with four Hydrogen Bombs! Three had been found, one was missing. Nothing like one of your toys going missing on you. (Not even getting into the whole discussion of how on Earth he and Edvard were able to justify what they had created!)
So, we had a very quiet ride home, were dropped off and father headed for the nearest NATO base for an emergency flight to Spain - in winter - life is really tough. The school was all a buzz over this. News leaks out of Upper Hayford let us know that the bomb had been found almost immediately - but the idiots were going to leave it where it lay because the searchers had broken military search routine in finding it. Wasn't finding it the whole point? But it lay another 9 weeks until it was re-discovered, and then could be properly raised. Father was so angry when he got home, you have no idea..... I have no idea if any of his complaints against the wackos responsible had any effect.
I know from my secret readings in father's books, that things were not going to go well for those poor villagers whom had been contaminated by plutonium when the three bombs, which hit ground, had blown their conventional detonators. I remember at the time reading in the newspaper of villagers kicking sand on the bombs to put the fires out; posing for pictures sitting on the bomb casings, and living life as usual - in a contaminated environment. I never did see any reports come out on their life expectancies or deaths in public sources. Just not news I guess when you have shots of President Johnson holding up his beagles by their ears or whatever. And, I try not to even search on such subjects on the internet lest I draw undesired attention.
Prior to this I had always held the US military in high esteem. But, if you were so anal as to "stick" to a scheduled search and then reprimand those whom broke protocol to find what you were looking for - doesn't this point to a significant problem within the power structure of the military? Until January 1966, I had wanted a career in the US military, like my father, but now I started to watch, listen, remember and think on what I was hearing.....
On January 17, we headed back for home, up in the little notch where Belgium, Luxembourg and France are all joined together. But, something was wrong on the Swiss - French border, Father was requested to leave the car and go to the guard shack. Very odd.
When he came back, he was really in a state of agitation. Seems the US had lost a B-52 over Spain, equipped with four Hydrogen Bombs! Three had been found, one was missing. Nothing like one of your toys going missing on you. (Not even getting into the whole discussion of how on Earth he and Edvard were able to justify what they had created!)
 |
| Father, faced turned from camera |
I know from my secret readings in father's books, that things were not going to go well for those poor villagers whom had been contaminated by plutonium when the three bombs, which hit ground, had blown their conventional detonators. I remember at the time reading in the newspaper of villagers kicking sand on the bombs to put the fires out; posing for pictures sitting on the bomb casings, and living life as usual - in a contaminated environment. I never did see any reports come out on their life expectancies or deaths in public sources. Just not news I guess when you have shots of President Johnson holding up his beagles by their ears or whatever. And, I try not to even search on such subjects on the internet lest I draw undesired attention.
Prior to this I had always held the US military in high esteem. But, if you were so anal as to "stick" to a scheduled search and then reprimand those whom broke protocol to find what you were looking for - doesn't this point to a significant problem within the power structure of the military? Until January 1966, I had wanted a career in the US military, like my father, but now I started to watch, listen, remember and think on what I was hearing.....
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