Level Ground, 23. We Can't Forget.
It was a Monday afternoon in April. It had been market day, and many people from surrounding villages were in town, some buying, others selling. The animal market was doing good business, with cattle, sheep, and smaller animals being traded. New potatoes were for sale, along with plantlings for kitchen gardens. Around four thirty, the market had been wrapping up, people dispersing, when the church bells began to ring. People looked up, wondering if there was a fire. From the west, the sound of motors could be heard, and the first planes appeared. With the dull, ripping sound of the first bomb falling, people began screaming, pushing, and running for the nearest air shelters they could find, some of those still under construction, and without ventilation systems. Others started running for the roads out of town, as the bombs cris-crossed the town of Gernika, over and over again. As the fires from the incendiary bombs raged, those that could, ran for the hills outside town. As some ...