Un barbero en la guerra

My grandfather was nineteen when the Civil War broke out. He was doing his military service and was just a few weeks away from returning to his village to marry his girlfriend, but instead, he had to go to the front and fight for the Republican side. I had always wondered why he was so reserved. Until one day I found a box: inside he kept his diary from the war, where he recounted his experiences as a member of an army made up of hundreds of teenagers who had to face the most terrifying ordeals. He also described the camaraderie and life on the front lines: eating mice, shaving his comrades, taking care of the hens Libertad and Pasionaria, holding dances when they arrived in villages, and writing love letters to Rosa, my grandmother.