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.
By David Selzer