by J. R. Sharp
“Damn it. How am I going to get out of this ditch?” whispered Giacomo as he rolled to his back in pain.
Gino ran to the nearest pile of rocks to hide. After sitting for a minute or two and watching both trucks head for the barracks, he finally caught his breath. Gino rushed the hole as quickly as possible to avoid being seen. He grabbed the shovel before jumping in, just in case he needed protection.
Giacomo was trying to regain the strength to get to his feet when he heard someone running in his direction. He tried to get on his knees to regain some type of defensive position and was stunned by the individual who landed in the hole. He looked at the faded gray uniform and couldn’t believe his eyes.
“How did you know I was in this hole?”
Gino stared at his friend. “I didn’t, but you weren’t on the transport and the lieutenant said something that made me think you were in danger. When I saw the shovel being thrown out of the hole, I knew there was someone here. You look like someone beat you senseless.”
Giacomo laughed and the sharp pain in his chest made him keel over.
“Okay, what’s broken, and, more importantly, can you walk?” Gino grabbed the giant’s shoulders to prop him up and assess his wounds. “What is hurting, my friend?”
“Well, I think some ribs might be broken or at least bruised because it is hard to breathe or talk. My head feels like it’s going to explode from the pounding it took, but that’s all.”
“Can you get on your feet? How is your back?”
“Ugh!” yelled Giacomo as Gino assisted him to his feet to ascertain how bad it was.
“Well, can you walk?”
“Walking won’t be the problem. Getting out of this ditch will be the issue.”
Gino chuckled as he wiped dirt from his friend.
“We are going to have to figure something out, but not until it gets dark. You need to sit down and rest before someone sees that big head of yours sticking out of this hole,” said Gino. He put his arm around Giacomo to help him back down to a resting position.
***
As the transports turned into the barracks compound, Sergeant Sal was waiting to take muster as he had over and over again since arriving in Rome after losing his arm in battle. He was the only authority for the night; the other Italian officers usually went home before the soldiers arrived back to the barracks. The Italian soldiers climbed out of the transports and headed for the muster area. They always took muster when they got back from their work detail and before being dismissed for the evening. The sergeant waited patiently as all the soldiers took their places in line. As the sergeant yelled out names, the transport pulled away, back to the truck pool area. Sal went down his list, and when he got to Gino Cartelli’s name there was silence and some whispering from the other soldiers.
He called again, “Gino Cartelli!” but there was nothing but whispering.
The sergeant looked in the back and saw two empty spaces where his electricians usually stood. He didn’t bother to call Giacomo’s name.
“Fall out!” yelled Sal after the muster was over.
He looked around as the men went their separate ways. Some of the soldiers went to eat while others went to their sleeping quarters for some well-deserved rest. The sergeant headed over to the toolshed, which was his responsibility to lock at night. He took a quick look inside; the electrician tools and one shovel were missing.
Damn it. I’m going to have to tell the lieutenant we don’t have any electricians in the morning, he thought.
***
As night fell, Gino got a little nervous about their situation. How am I going to get my friend out of this ditch? he thought.
“Wake up,” Gino whispered to Giacomo, who had fallen asleep about an hour ago. “How are you doing?”
“I’m fine. The pounding in my head has stopped, but it’s still hard to breathe,” answered Giacomo. He used the side of the ditch to sit up.
“Stay here,” Gino said as he climbed out of the hole.
Gino searched the area for anything that could help his friend. As Giacomo sat looking up at the stars, a rope uncoiled down into the hole. Gino jumped back in.
“The rope is the only thing around here. You have any ideas?”
“What’s on the other end of this rope?”
“Oh, it’s tied to a tree. Don’t worry; it will hold you, I think.”
They laughed as Gino helped Giacomo to his feet. He grabbed the rope with both hands and pulled hard to make sure it was holding.
“Ugh, this is going to hurt,” Giacomo said.
“I have an idea. What if I get on my hands and knees and you step on top of me and pull yourself out of the hole?”
“It might work, but can you take all of my weight?”
“We will have to see, but let’s give this a try.”
Giacomo and Gino got into position.
“You ready?” asked Giacomo.
“Yes, let’s do this, and don’t hurt me.”
Giacomo put his left boot on Gino’s back and, with one good thrust, pushed to the top of the ditch as he pulled the rope with both hands. His body accelerated until he was almost out of the hole. Gino pushed from the bottom, which helped him clear the hole. Gino heard another “ugh” and looked up to see the bottoms of Giacomo’s boots.
“You okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Let’s get back to the barracks so I can get something to eat.”
“You’re always hungry. Let’s go before they decide to come look for us.”
They arrived under the cover of darkness about an hour later. Gino noticed Giacomo was walking better than expected after such a beating. Giacomo also hadn’t complained about his back, which surprised Gino. They were able to wash up, grab some leftover dinner, and head to their bunks.
The next morning, Gino was getting out of his bunk when he saw Giacomo for the first time in the light.
“You look like someone took a stick and hit your face a bunch of times. Since when can you bend over and tie your shoes?”
“Since they jumped on my back and snapped something back in place.”
“You want me to jump on your face to fix what they did yesterday?”
Giacomo smiled and waited for Gino to get ready.
Sergeant Sal sat in the main building adjacent to the barracks waiting for the Italian officer, who was always running late, before he went out and took the morning muster. He didn’t want to tell the officer that Gino Cartelli and Giacomo Romano went missing, which meant they would need two more electricians to finish the work the Germans wanted completed. Ten minutes past muster time, the sergeant decided to take roll call and notify the officer of the missing soldiers when he finally arrived.
Gino and Giacomo took their places in the back. They were accustomed to stares from the other soldiers, but this morning there seemed to be a more celebratory atmosphere. Most of the soldiers looking in their direction were smiling, with the occasional grin.
“Are you seeing this?” asked Gino.
“See what? The only thing I’m doing is trying to stand straight so I don’t let the Germans know I’m in pain.”
Gino grinned as the sedans pulled up.
As Sal stepped outside, he saw Colonel Specca pull up with the always-present Germans. He approached the Italian officer to give him a brief and, of course, to get his work detail guidance from the Germans.
“What kind of great news do you have for us this morning, Sergeant?” asked the Italian officer in charge.
Sergeant Sal moved his only arm to retrieve a written report in his pocket for his superiors, when he decided to look at the men to his left. To his surprise, there they both were standing and looking in his direction with smirks. He could not miss the big head with an eye patch towering over the other soldiers, and neither could the other officers. They all looked at the men simultaneously.
“I have nothing to report, sir, except that I have to take morning muster to make sure all the men are here.”
Gin
o whispered to Giacomo, “Is the soldier next to the sedan the one who did this to you?”
Giacomo aimed his one eye at the sedan. “Him and three others.”
Gino smiled. Nobody expected Giacomo to be here, but here he was, and this would send a message to the Germans not to mess with the Italians.
As the German walked toward the awaiting sedan, he stopped before getting in. “The big Italian is here. I thought you hurt him yesterday,” Lieutenant Muller remarked to Braun, who held the door open for him. The German sergeant looked over his right shoulder into the crowd of soldiers to see one soldier in back towering over everyone.
How is this possible? We left him unconscious under a mound of dirt yesterday, thought Braun. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He moved to the driver side of the sedan, but not before looking at Giacomo and Gino one more time.
“Attention to muster,” yelled Sergeant Sal, who was smiling along with his superior officer. They looked at Giacomo knowing this would be a good day.
Chapter 12
ROME WASN’T THE MOST pleasant place during the winter of 1941. With all of the violence and desertions, the Germans ran the city with little resistance from Italy’s Fascist Party. The Fascist members had become mere translators with little or no authority over their own citizens or troops.
Most of the Italian army regulars were shipped out to fight the Axis powers’ battles, which were not going well, especially in Russia where the Germans had been stalled by the weather and insufficient supplies. For the first time since the war started, the Axis powers experienced defeat. This made their commanders suspicious of everyone unsupportive of their cause. Most of their subordinates felt the pressure as well, which made life difficult for the disabled soldiers in Rome.
***
Gino was freezing as he worked to restore power to a building that had lost its electricity from a downed power line. This winter was extremely harsh and he wasn’t getting much sleep. He wondered if transferring to Rome had been the smart thing to do; at least in Naples work wasn’t as hectic and the Germans weren’t in charge. He did hear that a German division moved into Naples after he departed, though, so maybe he was screwed no matter where he was stationed. Better to be in Rome and closer to his family, although he hadn’t been able to visit recently.
Germans kept a close watch on the injured Italians soldiers, increasing animosity. There were more and more desertions from the ranks and open discussions about how poorly the Axis partners treated Italian countrymen. In the past, any talk against Italy’s allies would have brought a death sentence, but now it was common to speak out and not be punished. Regular Italian citizens were being punished for helping deserters. This wasn’t new, but now most of the punishments were carried out by the Germans soldiers. If you were caught with a deserter in your home, it was a certain death sentence for all who lived in the home.
Gino and the other workers were done for the day, and they all gathered at the pick-up point. As Gino sat waiting for the troop transport, he gazed at his surroundings, and, all of sudden, it hit him.
He was a prisoner in his own army with no hope or future. There was always a German soldier watching them, and they lived in an open-bay barracks while the Germans lived in hotels with their own rooms. Food was scant and he couldn’t remember the last time he had any wine. The army started giving him pay vouchers months ago with no promise of ever getting back pay.
As the truck pulled in, Gino’s rage grew. He sat next to Giacomo and glanced back at the armed German soldiers guarding them. Most of the workers suffered from unspeakable wounds, and to have their allies treat them like slaves was too much. Gino nudged Giacomo to point out the armed German.
“The Germans treat us like we’re the prisoners of war. They don’t even pretend to be allies any longer,” Gino said to his friend.
The men exited the transport in front of their open-bay barracks. As usual, Giacomo was the last to get out. They hurried inside to get out of the cold and headed for their corner of the barracks to sit in a makeshift lounge of old wooden wire spools. The spools made great tables and the smaller ones could be used as chairs—benefits of being electricians. This place might feel like a prison, but it was home and warm.
“Why is it we have to live in this dump but the Germans get to stay in the hotels?” asked Giacomo.
Gino took his jacket and gloves off as Giacomo did the same and responded, “I wish I knew. It doesn’t seem right. This is our country, but they get better living conditions than we do.”
Giacomo hung his jacket next to his bunk and grabbed his cards. They would play for about an hour before heading over to the main hall for dinner—typically a bowl of pasta and some bread. As Giacomo dealt, he looked around to make sure they were alone before he spoke. He feared many of the soldiers who lived in the barracks were not trustworthy.
Giacomo looked at his friend and said, “What’s on your mind, buddy?”
“Well, I think it’s only a matter of time before something happens to us, and it’s not going to be good. The Germans don’t like Italians. That is obvious by the way they treat us. Probably because of how badly we’ve been doing in the battles as of late. Or maybe they just see us as yet another inferior race.”
“You’re right about the way they treat us, we need to keep our eye open. Trust no one.”
Gino cracked a smile, but he had noticed that Giacomo sometimes looked with both eyes. Gino always thought it was odd. Maybe it was force of habit. Or maybe . . . could he be faking the injury? Giacomo usually wore a patch over the bad eye, but when he was playing cards or reading, he often took the patch off. When Gino asked why he removed the patch, Giacomo would say that the patch was putting pressure on his head or the patch was new and it bothered him. Gino laughed as Giacomo moved the patch to the familiar spot above his eye.
“Is that a new eye patch, buddy?”
“You know it’s the same patch. What is so funny?”
“Nothing. Is it time to eat yet? I’m starving.”
As they prepared to go to dinner, the barracks door opened. The rest of the Italian wounded workers filed in. Most were laborers with no special skills. Their days were filled with moving rocks, digging ditches, clearing trees and chopping and stacking firewood. Many were jealous of the easy jobs of the electricians, fueling Giacomo’s suspicions of his fellow Italians.
As they made their way to the front door, a man named Giorgio ask them where they were going, but Gino and Giacomo ignored him. Giorgio had become increasingly vocal about the living conditions and mistreatment by the Germans and had formed a dissident group that met off the compound. He and others always wanted to know about electrical work so that they too could escape the backbreaking tasks of being a laborer.
Giorgio was playing with fire, and Giacomo had no interest in getting throttled again. As he and Gino were about to leave, someone yelled at them to stop and come back into the barracks for a meeting. It was Sergeant Sal. They disliked him, but they didn’t want any trouble, so they complied and took a seat.
“Let me have everyone’s attention so we can get this over with and go have some dinner. There has been a lot of open talk about desertion and the overall dislike of our German brothers as of late. The Germans are our allies and we are working with them to make Europe a better place. The Italian Royal Army and Il Duce have given their full support and we need to give them our support as well. Anybody talking about deserting or getting caught trying to desert will be hanged or face a firing squad by the local authorities. We are all in the Italian Royal Army until we win the war in Europe.”
About half of the unit applauded and the rest frowned in disbelief. Gino looked at Giacomo and motioned to the door with his head. As they approached to leave, it opened from the other side and they quickly stepped aside.
Two Germans in black-and-red uniforms entered, followed by an Italian officer. Gino quickly looked back through the doorway to see if any other soldiers were coming in. Outside, German and
Italian soldiers with guns blocked all camp exits.
Not a good sign, thought Gino as Sergeant Sal called attention.
Colonel Specca, the senior Italian officer in Rome, made his way to the front of the room while the German officers stopped to let him by. The officer gestured to Sergeant Sal to follow him into the conference room.
“What do you think is going on?” Gino asked Giacomo.
“I don’t know, but it’s not going to be good for someone. If this gets ugly, we need to find a way out of here, and the closest exit is the window to the right. Do you see it?”
Gino nodded.
Sergeant Sal emerged from the room followed by the Italian colonel, who walked over and whispered to the German officers. One of the Germans looked in Giorgio’s direction. After the colonel finished his discussion, he returned to the front of the room. He stopped short of the sergeant and addressed all of the soldiers.
“Gentleman of the Italian Royal Army, we have a problem here that needs to be addressed. We have some here who think what we’re doing isn’t the best course of action for this country. They also think that gathering other soldiers to join their cause is acceptable. This is in violation of our military code and will cease now. It is called treason, and it will not be tolerated. Those of you who are thinking of joining these groups, stop and think about what could happen to you and your families. Those of you who have already embarked on this dreadful course will be dealt with swiftly and harshly.”
As the colonel prepared to leave the barracks, the two German officers scanned the faces of the Italian men. One of the officer’s eyes locked onto Gino. His heart raced, and when the officer looked away he backpedaled toward the window. Giacomo grabbed his elbow and whispered, “Steady, my friend. They don’t want us.”
Two German soldiers entered the barracks and grabbed Giorgio’s arms, escorting him away. Sergeant Sal waited for the Germans to clear out and then addressed the men. “Gentleman, we will fall out of the barracks and into ranks to watch the soldier in question have his trial for treason. Now fall out.”