 Madrid, by its position, is a natural fortress, and each day the people make its defenses more impregnable. Food for supper. Sometimes the food runs out before you reach the door. Sometimes a shell falls near the line, and at home they wait and wait, and no one brings back anything for supper. Before they enter the town, the enemy tries to destroy it. This is a man who had nothing to do with the war, a bookkeeper on his way to his office at eight o'clock in the morning. So now they take the bookkeeper away, but neither to his home nor to his office. The government urges all civilians to evacuate Madrid. Where can we live? What can we do for a living? I won't go, I'm too old, but we must keep the children off the streets, except when there is need to stand in line. Recruiting is speeded up by the bombardment. Every useless killing angers the people. Men from all businesses, professions and trades enlist in the republican army. In Valencia, the president. They attacked us with the people, ignoring the long struggle that the Spanish masses have followed against the tyranny, surprising their opposition to fascism as much as their great help to the capital, even in the smaller towns where, at this very moment, this work takes time for the new defense of Madrid. We already have the device that was bought with the money that we had left last year, and, of course, the disposition to work. We only need the cement, which will be here in a short time. Julian catches a ride on an empty truck and comes home sooner than he expected.