RESISTANCE
A young man approaches as close as he can
to one of Goya’s paintings in the Prado,
‘El Tres de Mayo’ – also known as
‘The Executions of the Third of May’.
Napoleon has occupied Madrid.
A firing squad is set to execute
cowed citizens. A terrified man
in a floppy white shirt holds out his arms
in supplication, horror. Suddenly
the young man begins to sob, a visceral
weeping he cannot control. The young woman
with him instinctively looks round for help.
The other visitors are amazed, embarrassed.
He leaves clumsily, unfocused by tears
he cannot staunch. She follows, desperate.
Later, when they have returned home
he tells his story anonymously
to a reporter. He had gone to Spain
with his girlfriend – an art student
researching Goya – after he had finished
a tour of duty in northern Gaza.
The painting reminded him of an event
he had suppressed. His captain shot a man,
unarmed, hands up, pleading.
Jeff Teasdale
May 29, 2026My Grandfather, who rarely spoke about ‘the war to end all wars, but-now-he-knew-better’ except to mention his two gassings and once having his horse’s legs shot off by spraying machine gun fire while he charged into them, Light Brigade-like and armed with a sword and pistol (not his idea, unsurprisingly – he was never ‘senior officer class’). He did once however began to talk of his forced involvement in a firing squad. He didn’t finish the sentence, and tears rolled down his cheeks in the ensuing silence, and my Grandmother went into the kitchen to make him a cup of very sweet tea. She later told me it was a horrible story, and left it at that. I never did find out about the end of it. But when you’ve seen that Goya, you really don’t need to ask…