THE REUNIONChapter 3At the beginning of 1961 I was again at a border post in the desert, this one next to Algeria, but w

THE REUNIONChapter 3At the beginning of 1961 I was again at a border post in the desert, this one next to Algeria, but with the same views as before, desert, desert and desert, without a vestige of life even if that was an illusion, because life clings to life, emerges and prospers in all environments, no matter how hostile they may be. But now it was different. What had previously seemed insufferable and boring to me this time served as a calming agent, giving calm and peace to my spirit, so traumatized by the four months spent in the Congo. When with field binoculars I observed that changing desert landscape, with its sandy areas and stony spaces, the chains of dunes of sand blown by the winds or the shallow mountains of hard stone, all of it dry, arid, this time it calmed me down rather than overwhelmed me. Even the atmosphere that is breathed there, oppressive and sometimes almost unbreathable due to the permanent haze that reigns, seemed more bearable to me. Now all of that was for me like one of those life hazards that are impossible to overcome and in the face of which the only remedy left is to adapt and accept the circumstances well. Sometimes I even felt like a monk: One of those monks who, to the traditional vows of chastity, poverty and obedience, added that of fighting to the death for the good of Christianity, one of the monks of those famous Military Orders of Santiago, Calatrava, Alcántara, Montesa, San Juan... The Temple or Temple of Jerusalem, dedicated to protecting the pilgrims who traveled to the Holy Land in the Middle Ages, so unjustly and cruelly exterminated with the consent of the Holy Father from the Vatican to the greatest wealth of the king of France and, secondarily, of all the kings and lords who dominated territories where these monks had some property. What a shame, what a shame! that the Papacy so many times in history forgot the words of Jesus the Christ, the one sent in Greek: A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another as I have loved you (John 13/34)How do you say that you love God, whom you neither see nor know, if you do not love your neighbor with whom you live daily?(1Jn.4/20)And what before It was an intuition now becoming clear reality for me: I loved this life, what it meant. He loved being what he was, a soldier, a legionary, the Legion itself. All of that became part of me, of my own existence and I knew that that is what I would be until the end of my days: Legionarius in eternum There, among those men who were so often brutal and uneducated but always faithful and loyal until they died for the country or in support of a comrade in trouble, doing good to the point of accuracy what the Legionary Creed says: Always help your comrade, rightly or wrongly, I found a kind of family. Thus, returning to the Legion was like returning to my father's home after long and overwhelming days away from everyone I loved. For a moment I remembered Carmen, that beloved and distant torment of mine, and the damage she had done to me had been... a long, long time ago for me then. I saw it so far away after everything that had happened that it seemed to me that it had happened centuries ago. And I understood that the decision made that day was a true success. Not because of what he then thought or sought, oblivion in the heat of combat; No, not for that but because the Legion has ended up being for me a balm for the wounds of my soul and I thank God for allowing me to make such a decision that day. Another aspect that at that time, when I was entering the final stretch of my 23 years, focused my attention was my personal situation. That he would be a legionary for life was something perfectly desired and assumed, but with what aspirations? Be simple leggy all my life? Undoubtedly not. And waiting years and years to be a non-commissioned officer, even an officer, through the special Legionary Scale was not what he intended either. Direct access to the entrance exams to the General Military Academy of Zaragoza using my Bachelor's degree was prohibited by my age, already 22 years old. But I knew there was another possibility, following the Complement Scale. This Scale, although it allowed the promotion from corporal to second lieutenant in a few months, in itself has no future since the employment of an officer does not guarantee it beyond the age of 34, but it gives you the possibility of being able to take the military general exams up to the age of 27, which would still have four years to enter. On my last getaway to Villa Cisneros I went to the Tercio Headquarters where the people who were on duty, it was Sunday, informed me of everything related to the matter through the Official Army Gazettes. Apparently, to access the Complemento courses it was essential to be a corporal, and that in about four or five months I could become a second lieutenant. The next day, Monday, upon returning to the desert I was able to see the section lieutenant to be included in the first corporal course that was called. It turned out that there was a course scheduled for March 1st and with places still free, so on April 1st I was able to show off the corporal's stripe and in September begin the Complementary Scale courses so that in mid-February 1962 I wore the ensign's star and strutted around the "parish". (1) I was no longer at that border post, although I did not leave the desert either, since they gave me command of a section with four of those posts under my control. In March of that year, the call for admission to the General Military Academy appeared in the Official Gazette and I submitted my application to take the exam, so in June, when I was almost 24 years old, I was in Madrid on my way to Zaragoza. And now, with a heavy heart and a lump in my throat, I phoned home. When I heard my mother's voice... I couldn't even speak. She insisted Tell me... tell me and I continued in silence, unable to articulate a word. My mother was about to hang up saying, "Another funny guy who calls just to bother you," when finally a sound came out, a few words from my throat, and you're still hoarse and almost babbling. · So... so... it's... it's me... mom The silence of a few seconds and mom's voice. · Javier, Javi Jr., is it you, is it really you? · Yes mom, it's me, Javier. How are you? Mom's voice altered, very altered. The pleasant impression of finally knowing something about me after these years had been transformed into a "globe" of impression. · How are we? What do you think, after...of?... SIX YEARS JAVIER, SIX YEARS WITHOUT KNOWING ABOUT YOU... Scoundrel, bastard, bad son!.... DEGENERATED!... And he dares to ask how we are!... The voices my mother gave echoed in my ear until they almost hurt me. I took the receiver away for a moment and when I brought it back closer it was my father's voice that I heard. · do you remember now? Look Javier, don't appear before me because... because... I'll kill you... Again the voice of my mother, who apparently took the phone from dad · Don't listen to your father Javi, you already know how he is. But tell me son, how are you? Where are you? Is something wrong with you my son? · Mom, if you let me speak I will be able to answer you something. No, mom, nothing's wrong with me and I'm fine, really, mom, very, very fine. And here, in Madrid. · Javier, why did you do this to us, run away? Did we treat you that badly? If you were wrong with us, if you had told us, you already know how much we love you and we would have found some solution to the problems you had with us. But... Running away, like that, without a word!... Do you know what we've been through all these years? No, you don't know... We came to believe you dead, dead anywhere, God knew where! (Mom was so upset that she didn't even realize I was in Madrid)· Yes mom, I understand. Please forgive me, everyone forgive me, dad, you, my sister... Even if you don't believe it, I have missed all of you very much, I have longed for you very much... Both mom and I were crying. After another second in silence, choked by the anguish that dominated me, I continued speaking. · And no, mom, I didn't leave for you... it was for Carmen... she made me suffer a lot that afternoon... it broke me inside. My soul was dead and I wanted to die, really die... and... I went to war! · But what are you saying son... to war?... To what war? · (Now the speaker was my father) But what does your mother say! What does this mean about war? · Well... that's exactly what I went to war, to Ifni! · Did you go crazy or what? And... how could it be if you were a minor? I don't understand anything Javier.... You're not telling us a story to soften us up!... are you?... · No dad, I'm not lying to you, it's all true. I enlisted in the Legion. How could it be? Simple: When they asked me for my documentation I said I didn't have it, that I left it at home when I ran away but I swore by everything I could swear that I was 21 years old and... the recruiting sergeant... well he acted like... if I were telling him the four Gospels... · (Dad, after a short silence) Enlist in the Legion, and without documentation! As I said, you are crazy. And what happens to you now? What are you doing? Because I imagine that the Legion thing would be over now. · Well... NO!, I'm still in the Legion. Effective corporal and second lieutenant... less effective: From the Complement Scale. I'm in Madrid, as I told my mother, but on my way to Zaragoza. This afternoon I take the TALGO there. I am going to take the exam to enter the General Military and I hope to pass this year, or next year at most. Dad, I already have two medals, the one for the Ifni-Sahara Campaign and the one for Sufferings for the Homeland. Yes dad, I was in the war and I went into combat several times, although the hardest thing was in Edchera: More than a hundred casualties in a force, the XIII Bandera, which did not reach 450 troops, more than 20% casualties and almost half dead. One of the wounded was me, with two shots to the body. And that counts when it comes to scoring points on the exam; as well as presenting myself as an ensign. Dad was silent again but immediately spoke again. · Wow Javier, I see you well, very focused and that calms me down. But above all I am proud of what you tell me. Veteran of Ifni and.... WOUNDED BY WAR! Almost nothing son! A very strong hug Javi. That's how I want to see you, a real man. Without fuss and much less rowdy boasts, but knowing how to live up to what is appropriate, facing responsibilities and fulfilling your obligation, your duty always, above all things. You make me proud Javier, my son On the other end of the phone I started to hear some commotion and I immediately heard my sister's high-pitched voice saying "You have already spoken to Javi but I haven't, so it's my turn." And then her voice in my earpiece · Javi little brother, have you really been in the war and have you been wounded? · That's Mariló, you direct, without even asking me how I am Ha, ha, ha. Well yes, little sister, I have been in the war and they wounded me there. But tell me little one, how are you? I'm sure you're still as pretty as before, with that upturned nose. And I'm sure you're still as responsive as you were then, but you know? (Lowering his voice a little) I have missed you a lot, even though you made me angry so much and so many times. Another little thing, do you still break the hearts of every kid who crosses paths with you? · Javi, you are still as cool as ever. Well no, I'm not going there anymore... as you say. I sat down and... I am a woman who has been married for eight long months!... and... With a belly that is already, now, just over six months old! God, I'm so fat! I look in the mirror and I don't even recognize myself, I'm always so skinny and pouty. But I am very happy Javi, waiting to be a mother is the most beautiful thing in the world. · Wow little sister, I really didn't expect this! You married and expecting children! And I'm going to be an uncle without even knowing it! But you're still a kid! · Well no, little brother, I'm going to turn 22 and I'm already of legal age. · Of course, it's true, you are already a venerable old lady. And who is the lucky mortal? Do I know him? · Well.... you do know him... he is... he is Eduardo · Eduardo Linares? The giraffe? · You see how you are a chinchoso! Well, he's not so tall and lanky! He is handsome... and he loves me very much... and I love him I was laughing out loud. Eduardo, good Eduardo, the Giraffe! Good friend and better person but, Lord, the most ungainly and clumsy that one can imagine. He liked girls more than a dog likes a crouton, but as soon as he had a girl nearby he would turn red as a tomato and his tongue would get stuck, which was a life of mine. What a spectacle he gave then, with the poor thing in a mess, his face about to burn and his tongue no longer stuck, but almost stuttering. And my sister is the complete opposite. Extroverted, talkative, happy, with a laugh that enveloped you and ended up bewitching you. Without being what is called a beauty, she is very attractive. She had a special, natural gift for focusing the attention of everyone around her or simply passing her on the street. The boys drove her crazy and she couldn't go without always having someone to talk to her. She is intelligent, much more than me, but allergic to any effort. When the dates of each month's school evaluations arrived, God's trouble was raised at home, because she, at most, came with passing grades and more than one, better more than two failures, which made my father lose his temper: He, so serious, always so hard-working, could not admit that his daughter, precisely her, his little right eye, was the way she was. And let's not say anything about being disorderly: In her room she was always on a roll. Well, these two beings, as different as water and oil that there is no way to mix them, had ended up getting married. I couldn't understand it. Mysteries of unfathomable nature. But I was happy. Eduardo was a great boy who would know how to love her and make her happy. Of course, I already knew who would hold the baton of command in that home. Poor Eduardo in the hands of such a devil, but he is also happy, because Mariló is, like him, a great person and will know how to make him happy. Looked at closely, they can be a perfect couple, not only will they blend in but they will complement each other, each one is the ideal complement to the other. Yes, I think they will both be happy. And that's how I let my sister know · Mariló honey, sorry, but you know how I am, always taking everything as a joke. And I congratulate you from the bottom of my heart, you couldn't have chosen a better man. Nor is he a better woman. I know that you will be happy because you deserve it, as I also know that you will mutually know how to make each other happy. And well, congratulations on the baby, that nephew that between the two of you you will give me. I love you very much and also Eduardo. Give him a hug and congratulations from me. · Thank you Javier little brother, thank you very much. I will transmit them to Eduardo on your behalf. You see, he doesn't get on because he's not home yet. My poor guy spends the day working... so that I can "fund" the money ha, ha, ha. Hey, that's a joke, don't think I'm a jerk. At least now, because I am a very, very responsible woman at home and I manage the money that you don't see: Not a cent in unnecessary expenses. And because I take care of it, well, if it were up to Eduardo, my poor thing: Every day I would buy myself a dress, some shoes, anything. But not. It can't be, we have to move our home forward and it is us, him and I, who have to move it forward. And if he knows how to earn money, I must know how to manage it, ensure that it reaches us every month for all expenses and, if possible, make sure there is something left over. Well Javier, I'll leave you because dad is getting really annoying that you can't see. Now I heard my father's voice again, as I could already hear him in the distance shouting to my sister for the phone. · Yes Javier, yes, your sister also completely settled down, thank God. Since she became a girlfriend with Eduardo, she changed like someone turning a sock inside out. And I see that they both really love each other. As you can imagine, we are very happy with both of them. They live very close, in Menéndez Pelayo, two steps from home and in front of the Retiro. As I tell you, it will be very good for the boy who comes to go there. Your sister spends almost every afternoon at home, sometimes she even eats with us. Then, around eight or eight thirty in the afternoon, Eduardo comes to look for her. They usually have dinner here almost every night and then go home. That's why you found it here today. · So dad, you are very well and happy from what I see. Well, you don't know how happy I am. · One thing Javier, where are you exactly? · I'm calling you from Atocha, from the El Rubí cafeteria exactly. · And what time do you take the train? · Soon dad, I will take the TALGO to Zaragoza at two in the afternoon. · Well, wait a moment for us, we will be there soon and we will all eat together. A moment Javi, really · Okay dad, I'll wait for you here. My mother was on the phone again for a moment to send me new hugs and kisses and we hung up. About an hour later, the three of them, my parents and my sister, appeared at the door of the cafeteria and I got up going to meet them, but as soon as I was within reach, my mother stopped me in my tracks with a slap. God, what a slap he gave me! My jaw was hurting for several days, that's all! Mom is like that, very, very affectionate, because she immediately hugged me and covered me with kisses, but with a longer hand... than the usual day without bread. When I was a child, when he said to me, "I'll give you a boy," it was because he already had at least a couple of "smacks" on his butt. And the thing is that, at that time, the 40s, 50s and 60s at least, the parents were very kind and gave cookies by the pound as soon as you were careless. And don't let it occur to you to appear at a police station or court accusing them of Child Abuse, that they would send you home with the tagline Madam, that your child wanted to report them for having given him a sopapo, because then the beating could really make an epoch. My father never laid a hand on me, but my mother handled herself wonderfully. And that, no matter how old you were: A father or a mother was always that and respect was maintained. The truth is that he was right, because what I did to them was unforgivable: Six years of tremendous torture without knowing anything about his son, whether he was alive or dead; and if he lived, how he lived. Without being able to explain it, without finding the reason for what happened. That "Why Lord, why?" And there I was, with my impeccable legionary suit for a walk, my ensign's star on the chapiri and on the biscuit (2) on my chest, my two medals on my shirt and a stupid face, why am I telling you. And why tell you about the joke that formed in our environment; My mother's action had made us the center of all eyes and the role in which I remained, a hard-working member of the mythical Spanish Legion, Knight Ensign Legionnaire, and to make matters worse Inri with two medals on his chest, publicly slapped by a lady. The giggles and more than just giggles around me accentuated my stupid face that was a lifetime of mine. And the last straw was once again my mother who, throwing her arms around my neck, planted two loud kisses on me, one on each cheek, while saying in a voice loud enough to overpower the noise in the room: · Gentlemen, he is our son, the prodigal who escaped from our house six years ago and until today the great scoundrel did not think to say a word about him. And he was very busy enlisting in the Legion to wage war for Spain in Ifni and the Sahara, very busy being wounded in war by Spain twice, very busy being decorated by Spain with the medals for Sufferings for the Homeland and the Ifni-Sahara campaign, and in a thousand other adventures such as managing to be promoted to second lieutenant by his own means. But that thing about running away and not saying a word to us until today, as you will understand, I was not going to leave him unpunished, because whatever it is, I am and will always be his mother. Where would we end up if those things stayed like this? And the place burst into resounding applause, although the laughter did not subside, some contained... without any restraint, others and in open laughter from time to time. So I said to myself: “Calm down, Javier, very calm; You know, serenity in the face of the storm. And stiff as a stick, with more pride than Don Rodrigo on the gallows, I took both Mom and Mariló by the arm and made my way to the bar, something that didn't cost me any trouble by the way since everyone gave way to us. Already at the bar, as if by magic, a solicitous waiter appeared before us ready to take our order of four beers and a portion of grilled prawns, and for once I felt generous and considered that the opportunity was no less, the order being attended to at breakneck speed. Well, the prawns didn't appear so dizzying because they had to be made beforehand, but anyway, they were almost like the beers. In any case, I was shocked by the speed with which the attentive waiter appeared and the speed of the service, since the bar was well populated with customers who were shouting for attention to their wishes and we were not exactly the first to approach the waiter's domain, but anyway, the Church has doctors who will answer it better than me. Calmly but as soon as I could, I finished, we finished, what I asked for; But that morning and in that place the surprises had not yet ended, because when I requested the bill despite Dad's protests to pay it himself, the solicitous waiter came out with the news that the house was inviting the war hero wounded for the Homeland. Then, after thanking them for their deference and taking my mother and sister by the arm again, with a firm step, a high and stiff forehead as if a stick ran through me from the crown of my head to my tailbone, I headed towards the exit with a step as light as a soul escaping from the devil himself, thus honoring the insistent demand of my brain: "Swallow me, earth." Already on the street I looked at mom with a silent reproach in my eyes to what she, with the greatest impudence in the world, replied. · Don't sulk at mom darling! And then the icing on the cake. With the greatest of carelessness mom goes and sinks her fingers in my hair until she hits my beautiful chapiri on the hard floor. I bent down to pick it up and, when I sat up, I said in the most plaintive voice I could get out of my throat while I kicked the ground. · Mom, you just destroyed the little legionary morale I had left! You've sunk it to the bottom! And launching a joyous laugh that was echoed by the three of us, dad, mom and Mariló, I put both arms around the women's waists so, followed by dad and everyone still laughing, we went into the nearest Atocha bar where we sat around a table to consume two or three rounds of beer accompanied by more servings of shrimp and others of cuttlefish, squid and I don't know what else. There was just over two hours until my train left, during which time we almost ate with the ordered rations, and during which they updated me on what had recently happened in the family. A week or so after I ran away, when all hope of finding me was lost, the three of them left the town to return to Madrid and never returned there again. Since then the joy disappeared from home. No one spoke, no one said anything, not even my name was mentioned although it never left everyone's minds, always thinking where I would be, what would become of me, what would have gone through my head to make that decision that no one understood. My sister began to emerge from that morass shortly after, a year or so later, thanks to the attention that the "Giraffe" began to assiduously dedicate to her, deeply in love with her, apparently for some time. And what better consolation for the bitterness of a young and tender girl than the flattery and the "slain lamb" look of a young maiden, even if he is as clumsy and ungainly as my friend Eduardo the "Giraffe"? And of course, the sincere displays of affection and devotion from my good friend, little by little, almost imperceptibly, began to make an impact on the romantic little heart of my pupish sister until she ended up falling in love with the lanky young man to the core. But for my parents it was a different story, they couldn't get over it in any way. My mother gradually faded away. She became a shadow of the strong woman she always was, wandering like a sleepwalker through the house, the street that she only walked if it was essential or through the shops, market, etc. that I had to visit daily to supply the home with what was absolutely necessary. Before I had been a woman not only strong, but above all happy and spirited, a friend of going out with my father at night to the movies, to dinner and dancing and I don't know what else. Until more than one night, when I was old enough to understand "those" things, I heard her roar loudly when, upon returning home, I celebrated in the bedroom and with my father the joys of leaving. My father also carried his soul in his closet and his serious and somewhat dry character became sour, irritable and taciturn. Even the office became resentful and in practice his partners ended up sending him home, not to work or appear there so as not to scare away more clients. And that ended up being worse, because Dad closed himself in... and in his home office where, sometimes, he didn't even leave to eat or sleep. Now, today I realized almost exactly the terrible damage I did to them that day. We children cannot realize the damage that we do to our parents more often than it seems. And to truly be aware of this, it is first necessary to be a father or mother; Only with that premise will we one day understand the damage that in other times we could have done to them. Two years later, maybe two or so, my parents bought a low house with some grass or a garden at the entrance in a still small and sleepy town in the northern mountains of Madrid, what is now called the Sierra Rica, where they began to spend their summers and where my parents finally began to find some rest for their broken spirits. For my mother, it soon became a refuge where she could retreat from time to time to calm her worries, whether my father accompanied her or not. There, surrounded by silence and stillness and sometimes with the company of a lady from the town with whom she made a little friendship, my mother ended up feeling at peace and calm. Also for my father, the retreats to that little town were a rest because seeing my mother calmer and livelier, he felt, in turn, calm and even happy. But the great sedative for both of us was my sister's courtship and subsequent wedding. The news of the pregnancy that would make them grandparents fell at home like rain on a barren wasteland. And the afternoons that Mariló began to spend at home as a balm that heals festering wounds. Thank God. They then gave me news that I thought would plunge me back into the abyss, but when they gave it to me it left me almost indifferent: About three years ago Carmen married a guy that she had met shortly before in Valencia and who they believed was from Murcia because, after the wedding, the new couple began to live in Murcia, or in one of its towns, they didn't know exactly. And soon a son or a daughter was born to them because they did not remember what it was, a boy or a girl. By themselves they knew nothing; It was some time later, on the occasion of a trip to Madrid by a relative from the town who stopped by to visit my parents, that they found out. That was something that I had never even wanted to consider, that Carmen would eventually fall in love and marry someone else. It scared me just to think about it, but when the event became reality before me it was not as I expected, because I simply told myself: "It's normal Javier, it would happen sooner or later." He told you clearly, he would never fall in love with you, you are not his type of man, and there would never be a solution to that. Fit and hold on, man. And I fit in and held on, without a muscle trembling. If I said that the news didn't affect me I would be lying, because it was the final goodbye to a lukewarm hope that still nestled in my heart, but... Was that going to bring down a brave legionnaire? No way! The curious thing was that since August 15, six years ago, she never returned to the town either; Only their parents returned and for a short time, because more or less a couple of years later they also stopped going. Finally, that year I did not manage to enter the AGM in Zaragoza, because they failed me in two subjects: Mathematics and chemistry. The truth is that I had little time to prepare properly, just four months. But I had the compensation, very important for me then, of being able to spend three days at home, with my family. The AGM could wait until next year, when it would return with renewed impetus and much better preparation, which is what ultimately counts. And my father held this opinion. When I saw them in Atocha a few days before, my parents had no trace of what they had previously gone through, but the afternoon I returned home after six years away, when my sister finally arrived, this time with her husband, my friend Eduardo the "Giraffe" (which, by the way, that's what I called him when I hugged him when we saw each other) appeared at home shortly before lunch. Mariló told me something that filled me with joy, because it was the absolute certification that past traumas were that, happily: Past. And he told me in a very, very malicious tone. · By the way brother, do you know what happened the other day, when we got home after leaving you at TALGO? That dad and mom told me to forgive them, that they were very tired and were going to take a nap... Well, don't see how mom "roared" after a while, like on those outings they took and celebrated when they returned home! And don't look at how dad was snorting, that was new!... Ha, ha, ha My parents, both mom and dad, turned red like ripe tomatoes; and then dad finished fixing it when, standing up very seriously and pointing his finger at us, he blurted out: "Guys!" Then it was the end, the joke that followed my father's intervention was tremendous, with my sister, my brother-in-law and I laughing out loud and full of laughter. Finally, even my mother burst out laughing, as she said. · There are children, what do you want, we were very happy and during the return we decided. Besides, it had been such a long time!... And don't see how your father behaved! That was too much for my father and, sulking, he disappeared to lock himself in his office, as always when he felt insecure. I hated it when I didn't control situations! And logically, my mother went out after him although still laughing. After a while the two appeared, very close together and loving each other, smiling and happy like two schoolboys in love. My mother's left hand, who always painted herself to "mess around" my father at will, and sorry dad for the bullfighting expression. Since that summer I began to spend the summer holidays with my parents, in the house they owned in the small mountain town of Madrid, as well as the Christmas holidays, now in the house in Madrid. There in that town my sister also spent the summers, with my brother-in-law when he had vacations, as well as the weekends, at this point of the century totally popular in almost all of Spain, and when Eduardo had to work alone. They both bought another house, this one with a pool, (my brother-in-law seemed to be doing quite well) in that town and very close to my parents. As expected, in the next call, June 1963, I managed to pass admission to the A.G.M., so on September 1 I joined the Academy as a second-year cadet ensign, since the officer's job validated the first course. It was the first time I got rid of my beloved legionary uniform to wear the typical Army uniform, regulation at the Academy, what can you do. Thus, after two years in Zaragoza with the courses common to all the Arms and Corps of the Army, plus another two at the Toledo Infantry Academy studying the specific subjects of the Arm, at the end of June 1967 I wore the two lieutenant stars on my uniform and asked for a position in my old Tercio Saharano Alejandro Farnesio. But I didn't make it, because my first assignment was in the Saboya Infantry Regiment No. 6, garrisoned in Leganés. My parents loved being in Leganés, because they had me at home, but I became desperate and, naturally, I began to move around Rome with Santiago to be able to return to “my people”, the “legías”; from turning to the chief colonel of the Tercio to submitting requests to the General Staff of the Army Headquarters and the Inspection of the Legion in Ronda. And I got it, but not where I wanted, at the Alejandro Farnesio, but at the Juan de Austria, VIIª Bandera, in El Aaiún, where I joined in May 1968, days before turning 30. That year I obtained the summer permit in August, so that same day one was home, ready to spend the month in the house in the mountains of Madrid; But my parents had prepared the surprise for me that that year they wanted to spend the summer, for the first time in the last twelve years, in the town that had been the birthplace of all of us since we didn't know when. To me, that didn't matter to me, what did one place matter more than another, the important thing was to cool off the summer heat and rest a little. Furthermore, I was curious about those who in those days, more than just late adolescents, were my friends. I trembled a little at the memories that could attack me, but I soon discarded all fear: What could frustrate me now after saying my final goodbye to Carmen... Then two days later, just so I could get some rest from the trip, stay in El Aaiún, etc. We started the trip to town, with my sister and my nephew, (yes, nephew, a boy who was what Mariló brought into the world) in the back seat with my mother, my father in front, next to me who was behind the wheel. My brother-in-law would come some weekend and during the second half of August. NOTES TO THE TEXT Rigorously true. In the early morning of March 20, 1962, I joined Military Service (then the entire annual replacement was incorporated into a single call-up). That night, while I, along with the other kids who arrived for the destination company, was waiting for I don't know what, I see one of the veterans who were there walking around with the typical "Do you have jalufo (chorizo, loin, etc.) lamb (infected recruit)" approach me? with a strip of first corporal on his chest. It was Adolfo, an old high school classmate who I had hardly seen since we both graduated from high school, some six-seven years ago. He had joined, as a volunteer, in the last of the three volunteer calls that were taking place at that time, and since January he had been taking the Complementary Scale. On June 16, I swore the flag and by then Adolfo had already been an ensign for a month. The cookie was and is a patch either made of plastic or thick cardboard, covered with fabric according to the color of the uniform, which is pinned to the left of the chest with the weapons or symbol of the corresponding Weapon or Corps and next to it the command insignia, the chevron of troops and non-commissioned officers or the stars of chiefs and officers.