The ship was called the Cabo de Buena Esperanza and, after various stops, it eventually reached Barcelona.
I found that my brother Joaquin had married after the civil war and now had two sons. Sadly he never lived to enjoy the company of his grandchildren for he died at sixty-two, a victim indirectly of the privations he had undergone during his months in the front line spent wandering up and down the mountains with his republican unit, retreating towards France.
Elena was still single, while Buenaventura was still happily married to the most sensible, hard-working, honest and affectionate man than any woman could ever wish for. Although she and Frederic had no children, God had blessed this union from the start with love and harmony.
Infiltrate the Russians
I went then to Madrid to join Tommy Harris, who reintroduced me to Desmond Bristow, an MI6 officer who had spent the latter part of the war in Gibraltar and North Africa.
Both of them now put forward a new project which they had thought up: they suggested that I renew my contact with members of the German Secret Service still in Spain and offer to continue to work for them, so that eventually I could get in touch with those Germans who were in Soviet-occupied Germany.
At that time all the Allied intelligence services were on the look-out for German intelligence officers who were thought to be roaming around Europe, the idea being to penetrate the Soviet Secret Service through those Germans whom the Soviets had recruited.
I volunteered to go ahead with this plan though, thinking back, it showed alarming temerity on my part, for no one knew how the Germans in Madrid would react to seeing me again.
But, anyway, I agreed to do it: I made contact again.