The voices on the off are the protagonists of the film, fourteen of the children of war, who tell their experiences of that time. What experience did you have to meet with them?

The recordings we found at the University of Southampton, much more than fourteen, were selected among the most English and exciting. We asked college for permission to use the recordings, but also every child, one by one, and I moved from one corner to another from the United Kingdom, because from the very beginning it was clear that if we were to get into their lives, it was necessary to present the project and get to know each other. It was the most interesting phase, the one that filled me the most as a person. It was Paco Robles the first child I met, in 2011, outside London, and he said to me: “They have forgotten us.” He expressed in words the feeling that many of them have, that those who returned have received some tribute, but those who stayed there have not. I swore to Paco that I would do my best to keep the story from being forgotten.

And for them, what experience did immerse themselves in these memories?

Hard. It's been over 75 years, but a lot of details have been told for the first time, a lot of things that families themselves didn't know. I don't know if there's going to be a point of shame, or the worry about not worrying about the family, but that stoicism is very British, and I would say that somehow they've internalized it: book for yourself and go ahead instead of telling others. One of them's son told me that I knew more than his father's. Some, however, do not remember much, as although the minimum age for embarking on the boat was 7 years, they were also younger, with falsified documents. And there are those who have their memories blocked, there are those who don't remember anything before they reach England, and that's significant, because there are traumatic stories; it's somehow related to the instinct of survival.

There are many 4,000 children, many parents willing to separate themselves from their children. Is it a decision that needs to be contextualized and understood?

Yes, it was a very quick, extreme decision, taken without time to think. The Basque Government made an appeal to protect children from the bombing, and the evacuation was carried out immediately. In the list there were over 4,200 registered and in the boat they finally were almost 3,900, so at the last moment many parents were not able to leave their child. In general, the mothers were the ones who put more resistance, reacted more emotionally and the fathers resorted to practicality, perhaps because the men were more active in politics and knew more closely what was on them. Josefina Stubbs tells in a passage that the hardest thing he has ever done in his life is to greet his parents. Some saw their father and mother again after many years, others died their parents while they were in England.

In addition to the time of farewell, others especially remember in the film. Before goodbye, for example, war itself.

They remember a happy childhood, and that was suddenly interrupted, with war. Many say that their father was going to clandestine meetings at night, remember the bombings or that they had to move around as the nationals came in. Maria Luisa Toole explains that they went from Donostia-San Sebastian to Zumaia, to his grandmother's house, taken up the car as gypsies, and then from Zumaia to Bilbao, increasingly besieged.

They also highlight the two-day journey through the boat. It wasn’t loving…

They became traumatic. In a boat for 800 people was 4,000 the crowds, and the sea was very proud, all stunned and throwing up. Franco sent the boat La Cervera to return him to Havana, but the children did not notice. They realized that the boat had suddenly turned around, but not exactly what had happened. The captain sent a call from SOS to Britain and two English boats came to protect Havana and flee to La Ceve.

The reception was good on the part of the British, not so much on the part of the government. The passion of the citizens themselves is striking.

Yes, the British Government did not want to have children, but the pressure from the popular lobby was brutal, through charity and other associations. They sent observers to Bilbao and it was an important mediating role for the British consul in the Basque capital. In the end, the government said, "OK, bring the children, but we're not going to put money," and the people themselves welcomed the children; let's think, 4,000 children, that concept of charity is very English, those who are worse off, have very internalized in their culture and are used to welcoming foreign people.

The Basque Children's Camp was established and they were there for the first three months.

Yes, they created groups of Basque dances, choirs… and received English courses, as well as other subjects. Despite the month of May, they suffered heavy rains and mass graves were built around the bells to prevent water from entering. The most dramatic moment, however, was the fall of Bilbao. The news was given to them in a very cold way through the loudspeakers and they all remember that there was a kind of collective hysteria in the camp, believing that their relatives had been killed. For the first time in the camp they felt that they were truly alone, far from the family, and they had to learn to go ahead by their own means. Then, when they were dispersed by the colonies of the country, they were aware that the stay would last much longer than the three months they initially thought.

Most of them returned at the end of the war, but some 250 remained, including the protagonists of the film. Some didn't see their parents again.

Yes, to return to Euskal Herria, the children had to be asked by someone, but because their parents died in the war, because they left exile or because the family decided it was better to stay there, 250 were not questioned. That too is a very tough decision, and so many families broke up. At the time, many felt that they had been abandoned, that they had felt offended by the years, although with age they were able to rationalize their parents’ decision. However, some have made it clear to me: “With my children I wouldn’t.” But knowing what we would do when we reached this situation is not easy…

And what do you think now, if you were lucky, as so many have said, or miserable, far from the homeland and the family?

These are people who have struggled to survive in life, who were immediately forced to suffer the Second World War in Britain, but they are all very optimistic, and I have not noticed bitterness in their words, they are generally happy with the lives they have had and with the families they have created. Over time, you've seen that if you had stayed in Euskal Herria, you might have had to suffer a lot for being a Republican. Yes, they maintain the Basque feeling. They mentioned identity problems, because they do not feel there or here, but in most cases they have passed love to Basque culture to subsequent generations.

It is curious that the faces of the protagonists do not appear in the film. You've linked the actual images of the file with the animation.

We decided to go to the animation for several reasons: the protagonists are now very mature and there are many hours of recording, besides it is not fair that we go through all that. Work also talks about her childhood. And on the other hand, we wanted to offer something interesting to the little ones, bringing them closer to their language and the look of video games, through the animated film Waltz with Bashir.

The music of Iñaki Salvador fits perfectly with the story.

Yes, it was he who created all the music and it was a collaboration of dreams. Iñaki was taught the story – he was nervously wondering what he was going to say – and as soon as we saw he asked for the piano immediately. After two days he sent us something, understood the project from the beginning and we are very happy with the result.

Public institutions have not found support for the project. Surprised?

The truth is that yes, despite the fact that the Provincial Council of Gipuzkoa has put some money, I was surprised and sorry that the institutions have no interest, because it is an attractive project for internationalisation. But I started looking forward, and so I've worked for three years, always ahead.

You have used the crowdfunding model to fund the film, which seems to be in the mouthpiece in these times of crisis. Why does the citizen have to give money to a specific project?

In difficult times, when you're hit, creativity wakes up, you have to find new ways to do whatever you want. I myself have financed the projects of others, when it is a very dear project, especially of nearby people. A small contribution is enough, but many people are ashamed, for example, to donate EUR 5, believing that it is little; if 100 people give that, you have EUR 500. You also have to consider what it offers you in exchange for your contribution (poster, DVD…). We run three campaigns through three platforms: Kickstarter, Indiegogo and Verkami. We got the money mostly with the last two, but with the first one the project spread to every corner of the world and supported us, because a lot of people wrote it to us. After all, the film has done a connecting job: We created a group on Facebook from the beginning and through it many people have participated, counting the experience of their grandparents and grandmothers, creating links and relationships… They have written from many sites and the project has overcome the film.