Free Ride

With Generalissimo Francisco Franco never more certain of ultimate victory, England and France made ungainly haste to hitch a free ride on his chariot.

Both France and England stroked the little Generalissimo's mailed fist by trying to persuade the Loyalists that further fighting was useless, that they had just as well yield the remainder of Spain without further bloodshed. They even threatened to recognize Rebel Spain as the only legal Spanish Government, which would mean withdrawing recognition simultaneously from Loyalist Spain. This would give Generalissimo Franco the legal international right of starving out the Loyalists even if he could not conquer them. Illegally he is already doing just that. Prime Minister Eamon de Valera's Eire Government jumped the gun by according immediate recognition to the Generalissimo.

A big British loan for reconstruction purposes was in the offing for Rebel Spain on condition of good behavior. The British, sentimental about kings and queens, were unofficially advancing the cause of a restoration of the Spanish monarchy. They were said to favor putting Juan, Alfonso XIII's second surviving son, on the throne because: 1) he had a British mother (former Queen Victoria); 2) he was educated in the British Navy.

Not since Munich, however, has the British Empire been so obliging as when it arranged last week to hand over to Generalissimo Franco the Island of Minorca, one of the choicest of Mediterranean strategic plots. Lying athwart the French line of sea communications to North Africa and not far from the British Mediterranean "lifeline" to the East, Minorca was so strongly fortified (by British guns before the war) that the Loyalists had held on to the island since the war's start despite attacks by the Rebel Navy and Italian ships and planes. Nearby Majorca, bigger but not stronger, was taken over by Generalissimo Franco's Italian collaborators early in the war. The British were therefore in a big hurry to get General

Franco's forces on Minorca before the Italians took over in his name.

At Port Mahon, Minorca's chief town, the British cruiser Devonshire called last week. On board was the Count of San Luis, a Franco negotiator. The British arranged a conference at which Loyalist leaders were told of an impending attack, were threatened with starvation even if the attack were repulsed. Upshot: the red-&-gold Rebel flag was soon unfurled on Minorca and the Devonshire sailed away toward Marseille with 450 Loyalists who had feared to stay on the island.

That Italy was anything but happy over this British intervention in the war was evident from Italian newspapers, which warned Britain that it was now too late to be nice to Generalissimo Franco. A more direct sign of displeasure came when Rebel bombers raided Port Mahon while the Devonshire was still in the harbor, dropping their cargoes so near the cruiser that the crew manned her anti-aircraft guns. Not much more reassuring for the British was a Rebel version of the Minorca surrender which ungratefully toned down Britain's "good offices," trumped up a tale about a brief but heroic landing on the island which ended in its capitulation.

Whether Rebel Spain would prove to be grateful or not, whether the Generalissimo would choose in the future to remember his old friends in Italy and Germany rather than take up with his new ones in Britain and France, little Francisco Franco last week had more powerful friends than any other chief of state on earth.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.