The Unstoppable Boar of the Spanish Civil War(Or How a Typo Made a Legend)
So it goes.There once was a wild boar named Jordi - except his name wasn’t Jordi for very long, because Portuguese communists couldn’t sew for shit.Here’s how it happened:A ragtag band of Iberian revolutionaries - mostly shoeless, always hungry - were hiding out in the Sierras, fighting a war that had already been lost. Franco’s fascists had the guns, the planes, the fancy uniforms. The communists had dysentery, a single shared toothbrush, and a stubborn refusal to die quietly.Then along came Jordi.He was a mean, mud-caked beast with tusks like crooked sabers and a stare that said “I have seen men do terrible things, and I was not impressed”.The communists took this as a sign of solidarity."Comrade Boar" declared Rui, a grizzled veteran who had once shot a fascist with a pistol that jammed three times before firing. "He shall be our mascot."They fed him scraps of stale bread and bad wine. In return, Jordi did what boars do - rooted through ruins, knocked over fascist supply crates, and once bit a cavalry officer’s horse so hard it threw the man into a creek.Then came the sewing incident.João, the group’s self-appointed tailor (he had once fixed a sock with a fishhook), found a discarded Vietnamese army hat - don’t ask how it got to Spain. War does weird things - and decided to make it official. He stitched a red star onto the front and, with great revolutionary pride, sewed “JORDI” beneath it in bold red thread.Except he botched the J. It was upside down."Now it says NORDI" observed another communist."Good enough" said Rui.And so Jordi became Nordi, which was fine, because names don’t really matter when you’re charging machine-gun nests in a stylish hat.Over the next few months, Nordi became a legend. He led ambushes by knocking over fascist lanterns. He uncovered hidden caches of beans. He once headbutted a tank - not effectively, but with spirit. The hat stayed on through it all, tilted at a jaunty, insurrectionist angle.The fascists put a bounty on him. “Dead or alive”. The communists laughed. You can’t kill a symbol.(You can, actually. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves)By 1939, the war was over, and most of the communists were dead. Nordi, however, was still kicking - mostly because he was a goddamn boar and didn’t understand surrender.The last time anyone saw him, he was trotting into the Pyrenees, his upside-down J still proudly displayed beneath that battered red star. Some say he made it to France. Others say he’s still out there, waiting for the next revolution.Me? I think he just found a nice pile of truffles and retired.So it goes.
Epitaph:
Here lies Nordi (formerly Jordi).
He fought fascists.
He ate their rations.
He wore the hat like Che - with twice the tusks.
Good pig.