The Mystery of Andrés Jaso Garde: Sporting de Gijón’s Fearsome Striker and Missing Victim of Fascism

Mikel Huarte from Pamplona/Iruñea in Navarre, Spain, has been researching the fascinating story of Andrés Jaso Garde, a striker with a fierce right-foot shot who disappeared after a fascist air raid during the Spanish Civil War in 1937. His body is yet to be found. 

The following is an extract from Huarte’s book Rojos. Fútbol, política y represión en Osasuna (Reds: Football, Politics and Repression at Osasuna), which comes out on 30 August 2020. Big thanks to Tom Wardle who brought this fascinating story to my attention.

Andrés Jaso Garde was killed in an air raid during the Spanish Civil War and disappeared for good. That’s all we can say about his death with any certainty. When we dig into the story, contradictions appear, because there are two versions of the story of the air raid. 

The first, and least plausible, appears on the website Ciberche and recounts a bombing of Gijón beach while the Sporting de Gijón team was training. The second, more credible, version claims that Jaso died in October 1937 in a bombing raid by the German Condor Legion in Cangas de Onís (Asturias) while traveling on a bus chartered by Sporting. The latter version is the one communicated by the club itself in 1990 to Jaso’s niece, Áurea.

Andrés Jaso Garde was born in 1912 in Mélida, Navarre. He was the third of five children from a humble country family. Mélida was an agricultural community which, over the years, used to change hands from one power to another, including during the Spanish Civil War (1936-39).

Andrés went to school until he was 14. It was tough to find a ball in those days, but he kicked everything he found. “We can’t afford to keep buying you new shoes,” his mother, Demetria, lamented. Andrés played for Sporting Melidés and his debut against Luchana de Pamplona, aged just 16, was also the club’s first match.

Then, in 1930, someone in Mélida noticed him play and at the age of 18 he signed for (Pamplona club) Osasuna. Spain’s national league had just started and the Navarrese club started in the third tier. Jaso appears in a photograph of the ‘reserve team’, alongside the editor Estanislao Aranzadi, who retired from playing soon after to run his family printing business of the same name, which specialised in printing state legislation.

That season, Osasuna claimed a prestigious 4-0 victory over Real Unión in the traditional Sanfermines match. Basque side Real Unión was, at the time, a successful club with four Copas del Rey (Kings Cups) to its name. 

Andrés Jaso left in 1931 for Zaragoza where, the following year, Real Zaragoza was formed out of a merger between Zaragoza Club Deportivo and Iberia. It is not known where Andrés played.

On 14 April 1931, the Second Spanish Republic was proclaimed, but this news received a mixed response in Mélida, a town divided between traditional landowners and workers who welcomed the news. Aurelio, Andrés’ older brother, was a farmworker and local secretary of the workers’ trade union, UGT (Unión General de Trabajadores).

Jaso’s niece, Áurea Jaso Bergachorena, aged 93, remembers how the football seasons ended for her uncle Andrés when she was a child. She remembers how Andrés entered the Zumalakarregi Avenue in Mélida to the praise of the waiting crowd, surrounded by children. His older brother, Aurelio, welcomed him proudly with a hug. They got together at home and dined, celebrating the return of their brother Andrés, “the footballer”. Áurea always received a gift from her returning uncle – a toy – and he also brought back fabrics. 

From Zaragoza, Jaso returned to Osasuna and then to Sabadell and Valencia. He played two seasons with Levante in the Tercera (Third) División between 1932-34, according to the website Ciberche (Note: The Tercera is now Spain’s fourth tier). Jaso was scouted by FC Barcelona but he ended up playing for Valencia CF in the Primera (First) División. His coach was Anton Fibver, and Jaso only played in one league match versus Atlético de Madrid and various local Superregional league matches.

“He probably deserved more opportunities, chiefly because of the enormous potential of his fierce right-foot shot,” the Valencian press of the time noted. The 22-year-old Andrés was a young man and the press recommended he concentrated more on his football and less on his love affairs. 

With the emotion showing on her face, Áurea describes how she saw her uncle and other footballers of the time on collectible cards in matchboxes, as photographs or illustrations. This was the marketing and advertising of that time, using the pull that football was starting to enjoy. There was no television and few Spaniards had a radio, so the footballers’ stories were told on cards.

In the summer of 1935, Jaso signed for Sporting de Gijón, then in the second tier. Despite suffering a serious fracture at the start of the season, he played twelve games and scored eight goals. Sporting were in a position to qualify for the Primera División until the final round, when they drew 1-1 with Celta de Vigo. 

Áurea recognises Andrés’ girlfriend from a photo. “She was a dressmaker and very attractive, like my uncle,” she points out as she shows us a photo of Andrés bathing with a friend on the beach, which could be either Valencia or Gijón.

When, in July 1936, news that the Civil War had broken out reached Gijón, Andrés’ family were not able to contact him. Perhaps he was enjoying the summer with his girlfriend and teammates, and perhaps this is when the photo of him partying with friends is taken. We do not know if the shirt he’s wearing is that of Estrella Roja (Red Star) de Ceares – the forerunner to the current Ceares club – or to Estrella de Gijón (Star of Gijón), which sponsored a beer brand. Among his Sporting teammates we can pick out José Vallejo on Jaso’s left and Aurelio Santomé on his right.

At the same time, the war reached Mélida and there were arrests of those who had supported the Republic. The scale of the tragedy will become known over time. Aurelio died on 17 November 1936 in the defence of Madrid from Franco’s troops, in the Ciudad Universitaria district. The family did not find out until later. His death came one month after Jaso’s 19-year-old brother José was murdered along with 225 other Navarrese who had been forced to enlist in a Nationalist army division to “save his own life”. 

As for Andrés, there is no certainty of what happened to him. We know that he was called in Gijón to enlist and defend the Republic and a document states he was in Battalion No.219, the ‘Galicia Battalion’. Thanks to the Red Cross, he managed to get a letter to his family signed by him which read “we are fine”.

Andrés’ worried mother told her granddaughter Áurea, “you see! Your father has come looking for them, they are fine!”

The letter is dated 10^th October 1937. By the 27^th of that month, Asturias fell into the hands of the rebel Nationalists. 

Áurea recounts how, after the war, her family and others on the left had to keep their doors and windows open and carry a white flag on their carts to mark them out as those who hadn’t supported Franco. She married a railway worker when she was 23 and moved to Villafranca and, later, Pamplona. Her husband’s father had been shot alongside her uncle José. 

For 20 years, she has been an activist for the Asociación de Familiares de Fusilados de Navarra (AFFNA – the Association of the Relatives of the Executed Navarrese). “We are a family,” she explains. With her cousin, Áurea attends all of the homages organised. Her cousin says that being part of the association has givenÁurea a new lease of life.

Áurea shows us some plaques bearing the names of her father and uncle. They were placed in the houses where they lived. She has not yet managed to place one of these plaques in the family home of Mélida and this has caused some anxiety because the family was divided by the war. However, she is willing to go anywhere or have DNA tests done to find the remains of Andrés, her father Aurelio, or her uncle José.

She is excited to see Pako Etxeberria on television, a forensic anthropologist who specialises in identifying bodies from the Civil War. He calls her on the phone and, at the end of the call she says before hanging up “Que gane Osasuna, ¿verdad?” (May Osasuna win, right?)

This is an extract from Chapter 20 of “Rojos. Fútbol, política y represión en Osasuna” (“Reds: Football, Politics and Repression at Osasuna”) by Mikel Huarte, published by Ed. Txalaparta, out on the 30^th of August 2020. You can purchase it here.

You can read more of Mikel’s fascinating stories here and follow him on Twitter.