The Battle Hymn of The Republc !!!

Spain was interesting and at times wondrous, however as Marge and I lifted off from Madrid, I thought "well okay, but once will be enough." As I recall we shared two window seats , and there was no one to our right, even though the plane seemed a little more than half full. I mused that more than half of the passengers were foreigners... Then I vaguely remembered that I was at present"The Foreigner". Marge was feeling what I assumed was a petite malaise due to a poor night's sleep and her usual onus of getting the two of us on the plane... Thanks to my special flying ear plugs, my ears seemed okay at our traveling altitude , and I took them out. I found that I could hear unusually well under the circumstances. While in Spain , I had purchased a slim paperback book on Spain's History, from Roman Iberian times , up to 1999 . In about two and a half hours, I had consumed it, and I was settling into the boredom of plane travel..... As we were no where near land, I was amazed to hear The Pilot's strangely pitched, solemn voice speaking directly to me... He was saying something about an attack on The World Trade Center in New York ! And that we would be returning to Madrid !! What he said woke me from my air plane dullness , and Marge and I began to try to comprehend what was happening. Of course our first thoughts were for the safety of each other, and how our immediate future would play out ?!! Then in about twenty minutes a stewardess, who seemed to be about Marge's age, approached us with some long pieces of paper that at first glance looked like inked toilette paper. She explained that they were faxes, from New York . They actually showed the buildings in smoke and one in the falling down process. It was then that the enormity of what was taking place struck me like a knife in the guts! A blind rage , such as I had never experienced , filled my entire being. Vengeance !!! What ever country that did this should have a terrible storm of Neutron weapons rain down on them now!!! They should all die quickly! A middle aged, American, female passenger called out that maybe we should pray? In a loud voice I responded," We ought to sing "The Battle Hymn of The Republic!" Of course I was thinking of the lines " He is trampling out the grapes of wrath..." and something about " His terrible swift sword !"; The sword being The U.S. Air Force! ...... After what seemed like a half day,we landed under the gloomy , evening sky of Madrid's air port. While still on the plane, I had felt very far removed from the turmoil at home, That all changed as we came down the stairs to the tarmac, and microphones were shoved at us. For the question "How do you feel ?"I had one reply; It was " Angry !!! " Then we were loaded onto a bus for a trip to a suburban Madrid Hotel. The Hotel personnel received us in a professional manor , albeit they seemed vaguely ambivalent as to how they should respond to our presence...The Hotel seemed to be attached to a golf course and it was like a place to have a wedding reception, a gala, or maybe a nice long weekend getaway with your Honey . After we and our bags got into our room, we freshened up a little and Marge tried to call home . That wasn't working , so we went down to the very nice buffet ( Free) in the Hotel Dining room. We spoke to two or three people from the plane , and no one really knew much... Exhausted by the days events, we went to bed early murmuring comforting supportive words to each other, and soon enough the dawn awakened each of us. A sheet of paper had been pushed under the door . The Hotel informed us that breakfast had been paid for , but after check out time , The Air Line would be paying no further cost of our stay..... Marge was suffering obvious flu like symptoms by then, but that did not stop her from securing our room, and finally communicating with Stephanie at home.The T.V. in Our room got the BBC station on it and for at least 24 hours , all that seemed to be were planes flying into buildings and buildings falling down ... On the plane there was very little sympathy expressed for America , and only a little was extant in Spain . In retrospect when the Airline stopped paying our hotel bill, it would have been better if we had dragged our bags back to the nice center city hotel that we had occupied before. Because I believe the phone service , Air port Limo , and other amenities would have been much better for our needs there. As in when I drank all of the orange juice and so did not get sick( It was Sunday afternoon and the store where I got was closed), and Marge got sicker! In center city, I remember a 7/11 type place, where I could have gotten enough for a swim.So, each day hence, Marge struggled with bad phone connections , when she could get through to see when we could get a flight home . For a few days it was uncertain if any U.S.Air would ever fly again, or for that matter any Air Line.....After about the fifth day , Marge felt a little better, and as she saw I was going stir crazy, she suggested we tour The Prado Museum? Almost reluctantly , I agreed, and we got a cab. Marge seemed to enjoy the museum as did I. However I think she grew faint towards the end from her cold and the cold remedies... I think it was the next day that we struggled to The Madrid Airport once again to find that a flight to America was not going to be as easy as in the past... Our first clue was in the attitude of the female clerk at the check in counter... Gone was the cheery Hello ! Now it was a don't dare push me tone , after they opened up late ! After at least a three hour wait we were able to get packed in like the proverbial sardines... The worst part of our second time in Spain was the thought that I was not at home in my beloved country to help bind it's fresh wounds, and to have my neighbors unable to hear my call for justice !!! ...... I will never return to Spain ...