From Alto das Guaritas saw the time of the girls in flower …

Dorival Caymmi’s song is old as the thunder night: « Have you been to Bahia, Nêga?/No?/So go! ». The Great War II had just begun and the Malta still remembered the Brava of the first. Follow! Have you ever been to Ruhleben? I already. But if it was not lost much. I gave myself on the site, by chance, when taking a U2 carriage from U-BAHN, the Berlin Metropolitan Line. And it was just. Then I informed myself. It had been among the neighborhoods of Charlottenburg-Wilmersdorf (I ask for forgiveness for the bad word) and Spandau. Obviously Spandau recalled the prison where the apostate Rudolf Hess was closed until the end of his life that also marked the end of the state’s life. And those rapid combinhos about my age singing – «and now I know what they have saying/’causes our begins to fade/and we make our love on Wasteland/and through the barricades, I don’t know if they are seeing. Se não estiverem esqueçam porque eu vou falar através das barricadas, mas através das barricadas impostas no dia 28 de junho de 1914, o dia em que o Império Alemão, envolvido num conflito provocado pela declaração de guerra dos seus aliados do Império Áustro-Húngaro à Sérvia depois de um chavalo de 19 anos, Gavrilo Princip, ter rebentado com o físico do Arquiduque Francisco Fernando, resolveu fechar as fronteiras obrigando todos os estrangeiros a parking the lands of Kaiser Guilhermeii. The building of two towers, in brick pity-toy, does not deserve a second look. However, let’s look back. And into the forced work field where it became in 1913. The prisoners who went there to the sorts were no worms, no sir! The living conditions were execrable, according to them, and that was what had to come here to contradict this malta. 4500 men in a rhyme of eleven ascient stables. The food was, as I will? The relapses and always drunk guards. Time ran to the pace of the shadows of girls in flower, as the greatest expert of humanity in lost time would say. And so the clouds passed over the head of the unwary… until.

Frederick Beaconsfield Pentland (not barely treating him by Fredred) had ended his far-right career in Halifax and had fallen in the scant to accept the position of coach of Germany’s Olympic team. It did not earn even three months of salary. Runned the kick went to Ruhleben without giving the slightest idea when they would let him cross the back spot. As all the good English settled. After a few days I drank tea at five in the afternoon and spoke happily about the German climate with other compatriots who were equally in his painful situation. Conversation pulls conversation Efred (didn’t I say he didn’t take it bad?) He found himself in the face of a new prisoners, some of them well known, such as Samuel Wolstenhoolme, with whom he had played Noblackburn, and Stephen Bloomer, his English team partner. They released a vigorous « Hurrah! », Devoted themselves to exchanging brave shake-hands while smoking pipe, and found that in the damn forced work field was another beautiful bunch of footballers, from Edwin Dutton, a so-called still-to-brain and spread the Cricket through the capital of Reich, John Brearley, a tremendous advanced center that had won. Name at Tottenham, and by Frederick Spiksley, a left -wing left by Leeds, Walter Campbell, Everton star. Freddie (maybe we can call him so), put the meninges to work and created, with a divine worthy of the Alencar Disease, Ruhleben Football League that organized the League and the Spandau Cup, that is, competitions between captive teams that raised a very annoying frenzy for jailers who had the obligation to keep them as exalted as exalted. Freddy (Our Sugar Torrão, You Know What I Mean?) Not happy. He advanced recklessly to the Allies Coupe, a trophy disputed by natural natives of the various countries that were closed: the British, the French and the Belgians. Gray as usual, the Germans kept seeing them run toward the beacons against the Fammed Wire. From the top of the guaritas were also sadly in search of a lost time…