CHAPTER XIX. The Durruti Column in Madrid

The CNT militants in the Center region were the first to request Durruti’s presence in Madrid. Recognizing that his legendary name could offer an immense psychological boost to the resistance, they decided at a November 9 meeting to bring him into the struggle for the capital. David Antona and Miguel Inestal went to Bujaraloz to convince him to come to the city. Apparently the government had the same idea and Federica Montseny, on its behalf, also set out to secure an agreement with Durruti. [695]

There was also activity in Barcelona designed to get Durruti to go to Madrid. Soviet Consul Ovssenko told the Generalitat’s Ministry of Defense that if it sent reinforcements to Madrid quickly, the Russians would arm them. Diego Abad de Santillán, occupying García Oliver’s old post in the Ministry of Defense, urgently summoned all the Column leaders in Aragón to a meeting in Barcelona on the evening of November 11. The Column representatives wondered who among them could best lead the Catalan forces in the capital. They decided to send 12,000 men and all agreed that Durruti should be at the head:

Durruti was the only person to object. He was excited and asked us to leave him on the Aragón front. “If you saw the streetcars in Zaragoza, as I do from our lines, you wouldn’t want to go either,” he said to Santillán. I told him that it was pointless to think of an attack on Zaragoza, given our situation. Then he said that they should send someone else: Miguel Yoldi, who was more capable than he. Even if that were correct, I said, Miguel Yoldi’s name wasn’t “Durruti” and “Durruti” was what we needed to raise the fighters’ morale in Madrid. He finally gave in and that’s how the meeting ended. Each one went to his post to organize the men that he would send to the capital.[696]

Durruti called Bujaraloz in the morning on November 12 and asked them to prepare the following forces for Madrid: the 1^st and 8^thAgrupación (led by José Mira and Liberto Ros, respectively), in addition to the 44^th , 48^th, and 52^ndCenturias, which were made up by internationals exclusively. These forces included miners, who were experts with dynamite and also the most experienced. They had participated in the occupation of Siétamo, Fuente de Ebro, and had led the counter-offensive in Farlete against Urrutia’s Mobile Column. They were not novices by any stretch of the imagination. The total number of these troops was approximately 1,400 men, which is a much smaller number than that advanced in texts that we have cited. Miguel Yoldi, Ricardo Rionda (Rico), Manzana, and Mora (Durruti’s secretary) constituted the force’s War Committee.

To reconstruct the Durruti Column’s departure from Barcelona and its arrival in Madrid, we will use two memoirs, written months after the events and many kilometers from one another. If one of the authors—José Mira— can be suspected of hiding some facts to protect his organization (the CNT), the other, Belgian journalist Mathieu Corman, is free of that sin, since he was not an anarchist and joined the Column’s international group for reasons of solidarity alone. Corman writes:

[On November 13], in the port—under the constant pressure of Durruti’s “Let’s go! Let’s go!”—the militiamen feverishly unloaded box after box from a ship that had arrived from Central America. They were full of rifles or pieces of machine-guns. Others piled the crates into railway cars. None had slept in forty-eight hours and when the operation was over that night they would begin a long, eight hundred kilometer trip. The cars, pulled by two powerful locomotives, bore the heavy load of our war materiel, some of which would go to the internationals when it reached Madrid.[697]

Corman describes Durruti in the Barcelona port; wearing glasses and recording the materiel unloaded under the light of the streetlamps. This indicates that it was nighttime or at least already dark on November 13. Although there are endless errors in Joan Llarch’s book about Durruti’s death [698] —and, inexcusably, he fails to cite his sources—Llarch does provide some historical data that can be useful when one knows the outlines of Durruti’s life. We will draw upon his book to expand on Corman’s account of the unloading in the port, which occurred on platform number eight. The arms were Swiss and Mexican and, although the Russians had purchased them at a high price, they were pure junk. The Mexican guns were Winchesters with five bullet cartridges, like the mauser rifles, but their caliber wasn’t Spanish, which made it extremely difficult to find ammunition for them. That, in addition to the fragility of their butts, which broke after a light blow, drastically reduced the utility of these weapons. The Swiss rifles were even worse: they were an 1886 model and the ammunition (also from that period) blocked their barrels after a few shots. Durruti didn’t have a chance to test the arms in Barcelona, but when he learned about their quality in Madrid, he called Santillán and told him that “he could shove the rifles up his ass ... but immediately send thirty-five thousand ‘FAI’ hand grenades.” [699]

Although we don’t know the exact hour, the expedition took off for Valencia in a cargo train during the night of November 13. While the train took its route, Durruti flew to Valencia with Manzana and Yoldi. When the expedition reached Turia around noon the following day, Durruti and García Oliver were waiting on the station’s platform. [700] He spoke with José Mira and Liberto Ros, leaders of the Agrupaciones, and told them that they would have to complete the trip to Madrid in busses or trucks because rebel bombers had destroyed some of the railroad lines. He said that he and García Oliver would fly to the capital and prepare for the Column’s arrival. They arrived in the Madrid in the afternoon on November 14, as Rojo and Miaja were planning their attack for the next day. Durruti’s presence in the capital led many to believe that his Column was there as well as. Durruti and Rojo may have thought that the Column would arrive that night, which would help explain the order putting the Libertad-López Tienda Column under Durruti’s command.

Durruti and García Oliver bumped into Koltsov while going from the War Ministry to 111 Serrano Street, the headquarters of the CNT Defense Committee. Koltsov left a picturesque account of their conversation in his Diario, which we transcribe for its curiosity:

The Catalan Column arrived with Durruti [Koltsov merges Durruti with the Catalan Libertad-López Tienda Column here]. They are three thousand, well armed and well equipped men, who look nothing like the anarchist fighters who surrounded him in Bujaraloz.

Durruti gave me a jubilant hug, as if I were an old friend. Joking, he immediately said:

“See? I haven’t taken Zaragoza, they haven’t killed me, and I haven’t become a Marxist. Everything remains ahead.”

He’s thinner. He’s more disciplined. His aspect is more martial. He has assistants and speaks to them not like he’s addressing a rally, but as a leader. He requested a (Russian) officer-adviser. They suggested Santi. He asked several questions about the Russian and then accepted him. Santi is the first Communist in Durruti’s units. When he appeared, Durruti said to him:

“You’re a Communist. That’s OK. We’ll see. Don’t leave my side. We’ll eat together and sleep in the same room. We’ll see.”

“I’m going to have some free time, as is normal in war,” Santi replied. “I ask permission to leave your side during those hours.”

“What do you want to do?”

“I want to teach the men how to shoot machine-guns. They shoot very poorly with them now. I want to teach some groups and create machine-gun sections.”

Durruti smiled: “I’d also like to learn. Teach me too.”[701]

García Oliver came to Madrid at the same time; he is now Justice Minister. Durruti and Oliver function as a pair.

The two famous anarchists spoke with Miaja and Rojo. They explained that the anarchist units have come from Catalonia to save Madrid and that they will save it. However, they won’t remain here afterwards, but will go back to Catalonia and the walls of Zaragoza. Later they ask for an independent sector, where the anarchists can demonstrate their successes. Otherwise there could be misunderstandings, and other parties might even try to claim anarchist victories as their own.

Rojo proposed putting the Column in the Casa de Campo, where they will attack the fascists tomorrow and kick them out of the park in the Southeast direction. Durruti and Oliver agreed. [702] The value of Koltsov’s narrative is that it clearly reveals the origins of the story advanced by Hugh Thomas, Tuñón de Lara, and others, who never took the trouble to verify what they copied from him. Unfortunately this author of “historical fiction,” as his colleague Ehrenburg described him, has been a true “mine of information” for the historians of the Spanish Civil War.

Eduardo de Guzmán writes:

The situation is desperate at sunset on November 15. There are no forces to command. There is no one to stop the enemy advance. To take men from one sector would be to leave it exposed. But if that doesn’t happen, Madrid might be lost tomorrow...

Fortunately, the Durruti Column reaches Vallecas that evening. They are four thousand vigorous and determined fighters, four thousand anarchists hardened by four months of incessant battle. They have come in one go from the Aragón front. Although they’re suffering from a punishing fatigue after completing the long journey, Durruti tells Miaja: “At 2:00 in the morning, my men will be in their assigned position....”[703]

De Guzmán is mistaken about the number of fighters, but correctly places the Column’s intervention at 2:00 am on November 16.

We will now consider the state of the University City after the rebels ruptured the front on November 15:

The rebels didn’t capture the University City in “ten minutes” [as some foreign writers suggest]. The nationalist troops had to take its buildings one by one and the anarchists, Communists, and internationals defended them tenaciously. Both sides suffered terrible loses. The Republicans reacted to the enemy crossing of the river by placing all their reserves in the University City, in order to launch a counter-attack that would restore the situation. It was surely during that counter-attack that the Durruti Column entered into action. But, due to poor leadership led, it was decimated.

To surround the new nationalist wedge, the internationals of the XI Brigade occupied the northern part of the University City—the so-called Palace area—leaving its old zone up to the San Fernando Bridge to Sabio’s V Mixed Brigade. The remains of the López Tienda Column, the Durruti Column, and the battered IV Brigade (now commanded by Romero) completed the front. Reserves from the V Regiment—the Heredia and Ortega Columns—soon arrived as reinforcements. Colonel Alzugaray took control of the defense of the entire University City area.

Kleber established his command post in the Club de Puerta de Hierro while his battalions advanced. He put the Paris Commune Column in Philosophy and Letters, the Dombrowski Column in the Casa de Velázquez, and the Thaelmann Column to its left, on the other side of the Cantarrana stream next to the viaduct. The V Brigade covered the right, up to the river. Durruti occupied the Science Department, with his men in the School of Dentistry, the Departments of Medicine and Pharmacy, and the Santa Cristina Asylum. The V Regiment was placed further behind, at the Clínico and the hospitals nearby.[704]

Vicente Rojo and Miaja ordered the counter-attack to begin at the crack of dawn on November 16. We will examine the Durruti Column’s participation in the action and, to do so, we’ll continue using Corman and Mira’s writings. But we must first say a word about a meeting held that night in the CNT Defense Committee headquarters. We take the following from Cipriano Mera:

Around ten in the evening, a phone call came into the command post urgently demanding my presence at the CNT Defense Committee. I hurried to Serrano Street, where I met Eduardo Val, Durruti, García Oliver, Federica Montseny, Manzana (Durruti’s assistant), Yoldi, and some other comrades.... Durruti wanted to know my opinion of the situation in Madrid. I told him what I thought and also about the suggestion we had made to General Miaja, Lieutenant Colonel Rojo, and our Defense Committee [Cipriano Mera and Commander Palacios proposed an immediate counter-attack when they learned that the fascists had crossed the Manzanares]. I emphasized how dangerous it was that the enemy had occupied the heights of Cuatro Caminos and also pointed out that a sewer ran from the Hospital Clínico to the Manzanares, through which the rebels could supply their forces without being seen. [Mera had once worked as a builder in the Hospital Clínico.] Later, Mera said to Durruti:

“It seems like you’ve come with sixteen thousand men.”

“No; only four to five thousand,” he said.[705] “How do you think we should counter-attack?” ....

“Get it in your head, Buenaventura, that there aren’t only enemies on the other side. General Miaja seems to want to do right by us but he’s surrounded by Communists and they don’t want the people to think that Durruti—the most distinguished anarchist guerrilla—is responsible for Madrid’s defense, when they, with their posters and musical bands, try to make themselves look like the city’s only defenders.”

“I know, Cipriano. And I didn’t want to come here without my entire Column. Our organization demanded that I bring only part of it, to see if we could save the situation. The government also insisted, given the risks, that I leave some of my forces in Aragón, since there wasn’t enough time to fully relieve my troops there. So, that’s where things are. What we can do now is unite our two Columns. That seems feasible to me, taking yours from where it is and joining it with mine.”

“That’s impossible under these circumstances,” I stated. “Miaja will object. He thinks my forces should protect the sector that they’re occupying now, since it’s one of the most delicate.”

“OK, then I’ll have to work with my people alone,” Durruti said. “I’ll do as I’m ordered: counter-attack in the early morning toward the Casa de Velázquez and try to get up to the Manzanares. I would have preferred to wait another day, so my forces could rest and learn more about the enemy’s positions. But we’ll do what they command.”

“What I can do,” I responded, “is give you a Centuria that’s familiar with the area, so it can guide your men.”

“It’s too late for that today. You can do it tomorrow.”

We said goodbye with a hug. I wished him luck and went back to my command post.[706]

José Mira writes:

It was approximately 9:00 am [on November 15] when we entered on the Vallecas Bridge. Workers and fighters welcomed us passionately as we marched through the city. The fascists launched a cowardly attack on our Column as we passed the Finnish Embassy. We assaulted the Embassy and inside found a real arsenal of automatic weapons and hand grenades, which we seized.... After liquidating that rebel stronghold, we stopped on Hortaleza road, where we were given accommodation at a children’s school located near the Ciudad Lineal train crossing.

At four in the afternoon, a town car pulled up to the gate of the school and an agitated Federica Montseny got out. She hastened to tell us: “Comrades, the Moors have reached Rosales Avenue. It’s extremely important that these forces go there right now, unless you want the grief of wondering how they took Madrid this very afternoon.”

In reply, Liberto Ros and José Mira said:

“Durruti told us not to leave here under any circumstances when he left. We have to wait for him to come back, which surely won’t be long, if what you just said is true.”

“Good luck to all!” she said, and tore out quickly. [707]

It was 4:00 pm on November 15. Mira’s statements, both the written and what he has communicated to us verbally, are reliable and consistent with those made by Mera. José Mira continues:

Meanwhile, the enemy was advancing along the Bombilla and had even reached the Los Franceses Bridge. The bridge had been blown up earlier, so they waded across the river and entered through that part of the University City.

Durruti arrived a few minutes after Federica left. He told us: “Prepare to leave at 2:00 am for the Celular Prison. There, on the ground, we’ll study the situation and determine the best way to counter-attack.”

We covered the distance to the Moncloa barracks on foot. The “Madrid Group” went at the head, led by comrade Timoteo, who would die in battle in Puerto Aravaca on January 5, 1937. When we reached the prison, I saw Durruti and Manzana impatiently awaiting our arrival. Over a map of the University City, they pointed out the positions that we had to occupy. Manzana suggested that we examine the terrain a bit. Protected by darkness, we marched toward the Plaza de la Ciudad, and returned shortly afterwards, leaving comrades Miguel, Navarro, and Marino en route, so that they could direct the forces that were going to follow later.

We quickly distributed the hand grenades and ammunition that each militiaman could carry on his back...[708]

General Kleber, like the other military leaders, received orders to begin the counter-attack in the early morning hours. But Kleber—according to Vicente Rojo—ignored that order and did not enter into action until 10:00 am; this delay “benefited the enemy, by giving it time to reinforce and organize its positions.” [709] But “those who did attack in the near-darkness were Asensio’s soldiers. Despite their fatigue and smaller numbers, these rebels conquered the Casa de Velázquez and the school of Agronomic Engineers, precisely in the area entrusted to the XI International Brigade. The attack surprised the Dombrowski battalion, which had recently set up camp in the Casa de Velázquez, and two-thirds of its men fled. After fighting heroically, the remaining third was completely annihilated....” [710]

The occupation of the Casa de Velázquez and the School of Agronomic Engineers, coupled with the scattering of the Dombrowski battalion, doubtlessly made the counter-attack much more difficult, particularly for the Durruti Column, which was setting foot in the University City for the first time.

José Mira’s continues:

We deployed in two flanks at daybreak. Liberto and his force entered through the Parque del Oeste and continued forward until they occupied the Rubio Institute. They encountered ferocious resistance during their advance. I was designated the left flank, which included the Santa Cristina Asylum and adjacent buildings, the wall along the avenue that ran up to the Hospital Clínico [occupied by the V Regiment], Casa de Velázquez, and Philosophy and Letters, where we had to establish contact with Liberto through the Palace and an International group [the XI Brigade] along the northern edge of the building.

Our push coincided with an enemy advance and both sides were exposed. There was terrible carnage, for them as well as us. We had to fight hand-to-hand on several occasions.

Mira continues his account of the fighting without being precise about places, although we can suppose that they occupied the Santa Cristina Asylum: “At 6:00 am,” he continues, “the Hospital Clínico was occupied and remained in the care of the 44 ^thCenturia, led by Mayo Farrán.” Mira says that at around 9:00 in the morning “ninety enemy batteries, hundreds of planes, and numerous tanks supported the enemy’s relentless drive: the earth boiled with shrapnel.”

The “microscopic planes,” later known as “chatos” [trans.: snub-nose] also “joined the battle and confronted one hundred rebel trimotor fighter planes with indescribable courage. Despite their smaller numbers, our bold aviators shot down ten enemy planes, which fell on our lines.” “At 11:00 am, forces led by a commander named “Minenza” appeared at Cuatro Caminos. They carried a written order from the General Staff instructing them to garrison in the Clínico, aiding the advance of our forces...” Documents we have consulted indicate that the men under “Minenza” were members of the V Regiment. Thus, like Kleber’s forces, the V Regiment joined the battle only after a considerable delay. “Meanwhile,” Mira continues “several attempts to take the Casa de Velázquez ended in failure due to the lack of men, since most of our reinforcements had been decimated and others were occupying rescue positions [Santa Cristina] in the early morning hours.”

Mira writes that they were fighting to capture the Casa de Velázquez and Philosophy and Letters on the night of November 16. He also notes that there was hardly any combat in the Hospital Clínico area then and that “Commander Minenza left or evacuated, whatever you want to call it, the Hospital Clínico at 11:00 pm.” He later adds that “we finally had the satisfaction of embracing the internationals who had managed, with tremendous effort, to break though the perimeter and help us carry out the final assault on Philosophy and Letters.” But, he notes, “we had to defend ourselves throughout the night against nonstop nationalist attacks on the building.” He continues:

“We hadn’t eaten since we started our drive through the University City or done anything to mitigate the overpowering exhaustion. Those were our circumstances when we watched the sun rise on November 17. We kept fighting with the same intensity as we had the previous evening.[711]

November 17 was tragic. The bombing of the capital was terrible. A journalist from Paris Soir included this in his report from Madrid: “Oh, old Europe, always so preoccupied with your petty games and dire intrigues!! You’ll be lucky if you don’t drown in all this blood!”

Another journalist, César Falcón, wrote: “Madrid is the first city in the civilized world to suffer an attack from the fascist barbarians. London, Paris, and Brussels should see, in Madrid’s destroyed houses, in its devastated women and children, in its museums and bookstores now reduced to piles of rubble, in its defenseless and abandoned population... what their fate will be when the fascists go after them.” [712] General Asensio’s troops stormed the city in three directions: those led by Barrón attacked the Students’ Residence, with the intention of winning Rosales and Moret Avenues near the Parque of Oeste; Serrano’s forces divided into two columns, one fighting against the Santa Cristina Asylum and the other against the Hospital Clínico, to open way toward Cuatro Caminos. Bombings accompanied the advancing troops, as well as artillery fire shot from Garabitas and Carabanchel Alto onto the University City. The Junkers let their deadly loads fall. Describing the scene, José Mira again used a very expressive phrase: “the earth boiled with shrapnel.”

To get to the Hospital Clínico, Serrano’s troops first had to attack the Santa Cristina Asylum, where part of the Durruti Column was billeted. The clash was extremely violent and there were constant hand-to-hand melees.

Some troops scattered in the clamor of the battle, particularly those that Commander “Minenza” had left in the Hospital Clínico before evacuating it the previous night. Some of these ran toward the Moncloa Plaza, but a group that Miguel Yoldi pulled together, most of whom did not belong to the Column, held them back. With a pistol in his hand, Yoldi stopped them from fleeing and put an end to the incipient wave of panic.[713] Cipriano Mera met with José Manzana at 4:00 pm on November 17 in order to help him position troops in front of the Hospital Clínico. Mera writes:

Our people quickly occupied the cemetery in front of the reservoir of the Isabel II Canal, the nuns’ convent, and the Guzmán el Bueno Civil Guard barracks. We also took the Geography and Cadastral Institute, the Red Cross Hospital, and the whole area of small houses around the Metropolitan Stadium.

At nightfall, comrade Yoldi and I went to the Durruti Column’s headquarters [at 27 Miguel Angel Street in the Duke of Sotomayor’s old palace]. Durruti arrived shortly afterwards and we updated him on the situation. He sent messengers to order the Centuria leaders to gather during the night, without abandoning any of the buildings that they were holding.

There was such disorder, and circumstances had changed so radically in the University City during the day, that Durruti no longer knew where his Centurias were. After he dispatched the messengers, he asked Mera to send the Centuria that he had earlier promised to the Guzmán el Bueno Civil Guard barracks.

When Durruti assembled the Centuria leaders in the Department of Sciences at midnight, the balance of the battle was terrible. More than half of his forces had died. Only a quarter of the internationals’ Centuria was still alive, according to Corman. In total, barely seven hundred of the 1,700 men who entered the fray remained, and they were in desperate shape after thirty-six hours without a bite to eat or a sip of coffee. They were also soaked, thanks to the relentless rain, and the cold froze to the bone. The fighting seemed endless, while death—by bullet or bayonet—could surprise at any moment. Durruti spent that night among his men, visiting them at key sites in the area. Mira describes the conditions:

It was neither better nor worse than the previous night. Bayonet attacks followed one another without interruption. There was an extremely high number of casualties on both sides, although our ranks became thinner, because there was no way to replace those who fell. But the enemy received constant reinforcements; it sent us fresh meat every ten minutes, which we liquidated with our automatic weapons.

The following morning, terrible volcanic craters opened up across the University City. Death was everywhere.[714]

When Durruti parted with Liberto Ros and José Mira, he said that he was going to discuss relieving those still fighting with the Ministry of War. He would try to replace those who were most exhausted.

Durruti was obsessed with relieving his men. He knew that you can only demand so much from combatants and that the best way to ensure the struggle’s continuity was by giving them a rest. However, circumstances in Madrid made that impossible. In fact, of all the forces fighting in the University City, Durruti’s were the ones who were completely engaged. The others, beginning with the Internationals, alternated their men. For example, Durruti saw how the XII International Brigade partially replaced Kleber’s internationals in the early hours of November 18 and that other Spanish units were relieved as well.

When he returned to the Column’s headquarters, Durruti ran into Ariel, the Solidaridad Obrera correspondent. Ariel asked him for his impressions of the battle.[715]

“The conflict will be difficult, very difficult, but we’ll save Madrid if we fight well today. The fascists won’t enter the capital. Our comrades have fought and continue fighting like lions, but we’ve had many losses. Manzana and Yoldi are injured. We need to replace our fighters because, I assure you, the battle is and will be very tough.”

Without wasting time [Ariel writes], I went to the Defense Committee to tell Eduardo Val what Durruti had said to me. When I informed him about the situation, Val wanted to discuss the matter with Durruti personally.

We took off for Miguel Angel Street.

Durruti told Val the same thing: they had to replace the men at once. Val immediately called the Confederal centers and asked for fighters. A comrade from a Confederal unit replaced Yoldi, but Manzana, despite having his arm in a sling, wanted to continue fighting. [716]

After making more calls, Val, discouraged, told Durruti that there was no way that they could gather the necessary people to replace his men. All the comrades were mobilized, many of them fighting with non-Confederal units. The situation was terrible. If he kept his men in battle, it was to lead them to certain death. And yet withdrawing them without replacements was impossible: it would undermine the morale of those still fighting and leave the path open to the enemy. Given the dilemma, Durruti decided to raise the issue with the General Staff.

As Durruti was leaving for the Ministry of War, Liberto Ros entered with bad news: José Mira had been injured and the men were insisting on a relief.

Liberto Ros and Mariño were members of an anarchist group that received its baptism in struggle in 1933. Mariño was now twenty-one years old and Liberto twenty-two. Durruti appreciated those two young men greatly who, despite their youth, had conducted themselves excellently in the battle.

Durruti stared at Liberto and asked him:

“Where are the fascists?”

To his strange question, Liberto responded:

“You know perfectly well where they are: we’re fighting in the Moncloa.”

“Exactly,” Durruti replied, “a stone’s throw from the Puerta del Sol! Liberto, do you think that a relief is possible under these circumstances? Speak frankly to the comrades. Tell them the truth: there is no relief. They have to endure, endure, and endure! My conditions are no different than the rest of yours. I spent last night in the University City, I was with you in the Moncloa this morning, and tonight I’ll replace Mira. Tell this to the comrades.

And stay at your post if your wound isn’t serious.”[717]

After Liberto left, and Durruti again got ready to go to the Ministry of War, Mora told him that Emilienne was on the phone, calling from Barcelona. Durruti hesitated for a moment and then nervously took the receiver:

“How are things?” he asked in a tone that was far too sharp for an anxious loved one. “Yes, I’m fine, but excuse me... I’m in a rush... See you soon!”

He hung up. Durruti saw that Mora was startled by the exchange. “What do you want?” he asked. “War makes man a jackal.” [718]