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Washington Heights. Malraux and Matthews were both at the Majestic Hotel at Barcelona...we were delighted with one another. You know, we thought that we represented people who were fighting for freedom.

While we were having dinner, there was, of course, a blackout. Then suddenly we heard sirens warning of an air attack. I said, “What do we do? Go down in the cellar?" I was terrified. Matthews and Malraux said, “No, no. We go up on the roof. We're safer on the roof. If the building should collapse, you're safer on the roof; and, second of all, it may be a wonderful show.” So up to the roof we went. Here was the city of Barcelona absolutely pitch black. There was not a sound or a sign of a light. Suddenly, the searchlights fastened on one of these Fascist planes. They all closed in on it. About six lights had it right in the center; and, as they caught this Fascist plane in the light, a roar went up. Suddenly you realized that there were hundreds of thousands of people on roofs, watching like ourselves. In the silent blackness, this roar of rage and triumph went up. It was one of the most exciting moments in my entire life. I remember that little Republican planes went up and caught this fellow and shot him down and the flaming wreckage dropped down over the edge of the city.

When the plane came down, of course, some lights came on--not many, but I mean, it wasn't a complete blackout. We went downstairs. I hadn't realized how wildly excited I was until, to my humiliation, I realized that I had peed in my pants.