by J. R. Sharp
“Well done, gentlemen. Those beers are on me,” said the colonel as he left with his lady friend smiling at the electricians. The bartender nodded and extended his hand to thank them for their excellent work.
“My name is Enrico, and thank you for all your help,” remarked their new bartender friend. Gino felt something in his hand after the bartender shook it. He quickly put whatever it was in his right pocket. It might be money.
On the drive back to Rome, Gino stopped the car and reached into his pocket to pull out what was handed to him. It was a folded sheet of paper.
“What is it?” asked Giacomo.
“The bartender gave it to me when he shook our hands.”
“Well, what does it say?”
Gino opened the note and read it out loud.
“All Italian soldiers’ lives are in danger. It is only a matter of time before you are killed, sent to the front, or imprisoned. Come see me if you want to live.”
“There is some truth to this letter, Gino. Maybe we should go back tomorrow and see what he has to offer us. It is only an amount of time before we get sent to the front and die, while those German scum get to stay alive drinking our wine, taking our women, and staying in our hotels.”
Gino knew his partner was right; there weren’t too many Italian soldiers left in Rome.
“It’s only a matter of time before we get the short end of the stick. I guess we’ll go back to the hotel tomorrow and see what he has to offer us,” answered Gino.
Chapter 14
IN THE SUMMER OF 1942, just about all the regular Italian forces in Rome were gone. The Germans ran the city with only a few senior Italian officers. There were a few essential Italian soldiers as well—mostly men like Gino and Giacomo spared from the battlefront to make sure the city ran normally. For the most part, Rome was a Nazi playground.
Gino and Giacomo worked directly for the Germans. Only one senior Italian officer, Colonel Specca, remained in charge of their unit, and he was mostly a figurehead. There were benefits for working directly for the Germans, and the two men used it to their advantage. As long as electricity was running fine in their buildings and hotels, the Germans left the electricians alone.
All the other wounded Italian soldiers who had shared the barracks with them were long gone. Gino and Giacomo had the run of the place. Only the severely wounded Italians were spared the long journey to the Eastern Front. Some were lucky enough to be sent back home because the Italian army and Germans had no use for them and didn’t want the expense of caring for them. They were more of a burden than an asset to Mussolini’s conquering dreams.
***
“We need to get going, Gino. We have a lot of territory to cover today, and the Germans want to make sure they’re getting their electricity. Plus, we need to stop by the German compound and get our new assignments. Hopefully they haven’t asked us to join the fight in the Eastern Front,” Giacomo said as he dressed for the day’s events.
Gino noticed his friend was moving better than he did when they first met, but Gino didn’t say anything to the lumbering oaf. Giacomo’s vision was still a factor. Gino grew tired of driving every day. He couldn’t count how many times Giacomo had fallen asleep in the car as they moved around the city fixing just about any problem that needed their attention. They were even tasked with work unrelated to electricity, but they didn’t care as long as they were not on the front fighting.
“You know, I haven’t been back since my wife had the baby. I wonder if the Germans would let me go on leave to see them?” asked Gino.
Giacomo tied his boots, raised his head and replied, “I am sure they’ll let you go up north while the problems of Rome are on hold. No, they would undoubtedly send us to the front before allowing us any leave. We have discussed this many times in past. It’s best to see what happens in the near future before we try to get back home. Now get dressed. I am hungry and want to eat before we head to the compound.”
It was still cold in the mornings, but the afternoons were pleasant enough to leave their jackets in the sedan as they went from job to job.
Just before the German compound, Gino stopped the car in front of their favorite pastry store—the German Army Galley, which opened around the same time as the Germans took over the city. It wasn’t the best food in the city, but it was free to the military. The morning meals were usually good, and whatever they were serving was fresh.
Giacomo got out of the sedan and made his way into the small galley. As he exited their work vehicle, Gino noticed a black German sedan pulling into the compound just ahead of them. This was a normal occurrence in this area, so it didn’t faze him. He looked at the galley and for the first time noticed it must have been an Italian bakery at one time. The new sign was painted over an older one. The building looked like it was painted a faded white, but it was hard to tell since there were areas the plaster had fallen off during previous winters. He smiled knowing they perhaps had someone open the galley for their troops in Rome, but he didn’t care because the food was free. Something caught Gino’s eye—something bright. He glanced back at the bright object and noticed the cargo in their back seat wasn’t covered up. Gino jumped over the front seats and moved their gear and tools to cover their illegal cargo—small arms and ammunition.
Most of the items were only theirs for a short time, but if they were searched, it would be a problem. They could say that they found it while working in one of the German buildings and were returning it to the German compound. More likely, they would face a firing squad.
Gino and Giacomo were smuggling weapons and other illegal items for the bartender Enrico. It was part of an agreement they came up with a couple of months ago, after he gave Gino the letter at the bar. The electricians didn’t want to join a rebellion against the Germans for fear of being killed, but they devised a plan that would benefit both parties.
***
When Giacomo exited the bakery, his partner was standing outside the car.
“Hey, we need to do a better job hiding this cargo or we’re going to be put in front of a firing squad.”
He smiled at Gino as he got into the front seat. “If you yell a little louder, maybe the Germans will hear you.”
The smell of the pastries made him hungry, so Gino jumped into the driver’s seat ready to eat. The same black sedan they saw earlier left the compound, but without passengers.
“I wonder who was dropped off?” remarked Giacomo with a mouth full of breakfast delight.
After they had a quick breakfast of pastries and coffee, Gino put the car in gear and pulled into the compound in their usual spot left of the office building. Gino always backed the car in so the trunk faced the wall. Giacomo got out of the sedan, but instead of heading toward the office building he opened the trunk.
Why would he open the trunk in the compound? thought Gino.
The Germans never checked the sedan while they were at the compound, but you could never be too careful. Before Gino could get out to see what Giacomo was doing, the trunk closed. In Giacomo’s hands were cigarettes and candy, gifts for Sergeant Lucciano and Gilda Deluca, the colonel’s secretary. They both took care of them, so in return the electricians gave them gifts.
Sergeant Lucciano was strictly an administrative soldier with no battlefield experience. He was never sent to the front line during his five years in the military. Everything he did was to ensure that this streak was kept intact.
Gilda Deluca’s skills as a secretary were limited to typing, phone calls and appointments. She had other skills that were needed by the resistance.
***
After their meeting with Enrico, they devised a plan to smuggle items for the rebellion. Since the hotel was their first stop every morning as required by the Germans, they parked their sedan near the bar with their trunk facing the wooded area in the back. They would take out their toolboxes but leave the trunk open as they entered the hotel. The hotel was now asking them to fix not only electrical problems but also plumbing an
d just about anything else that needed attention. If Enrico’s men put anything in the trunk, all Gino and Giacomo had to do was transport the goods to the other side of the city to avoid German checkpoints at the main train station and roads leading into Rome.
When they finished their daily work at the hotel, they loaded their tools in the open trunk and left. They would check their cargo and take what they needed as payment for their service to the rebellion, but for the most part they delivered the goods untouched.
The drop-off was at a factory north of the city. Using the same routine they used at the bar, the trunk was left open facing a wooded area. When they finished their work in the factory, their sedan was usually a little lighter. They didn’t care who took the goods. This sometimes worked in the reverse; they would pick up goods from the factory and deliver them to the hotel. They also acquired quite a few goods they hoarded for themselves—cigarettes, food rations, clothes, and blankets—and a few infantry service rifles, Beretta handguns, and enough ammunition to get them out of Rome if they needed to escape. The barracks floorboards provided the best hiding places, but they had trouble stockpiling all of their goods. When they had a chance, they smuggled supplies to their families through their contact at the factory, a salesman that frequently traveled to northern Italy.
Giacomo would always go into the office building because the Germans never bothered him due to his size and disfigured face. They thought him harmless and feeble. Gino had a cigarette while he waited for his coworker to come back. As he finished his first draw, he noticed a German officer in all black with a red armband standing near the corridor used by his workmate moments ago. The officer looked like he was waiting for someone. Gino looked away. The officer looked familiar, but Gino couldn’t place him. After another draw off the cigarette, he noticed the officer walking toward him. Gino stood at attention.
“What’s in the sedan, Private?” asked the German as he got closer.
“We’re the city electricians working for your colonel to keep the lights on in every building. We also do plumbing, woodwork and anything else the colonel wants done. The sedan is how we get the tools and gear to the jobsite. Would you like a cigarette, sir?”
He handed a cigarette to the officer. The officer took the cigarette and let Gino light it for him.
“I don’t work for your colonel. I am here to make sure everything is running smoothly,” replied the officer, looking for any signs of guilt in Gino’s eyes. “I’ve seen you before. Did you work in the ghetto some time ago?”
Gino recognized the man now; he was one of the officers who had Giacomo beaten in the ditch.
***
As Giacomo made his way to the office to receive their marching orders, he heard someone yelling at their top of their lungs. Most folks were moving away from the entrance of the office, but he was unfazed. As he turned into the office, he saw a German colonel scolding Colonel Specca. The German colonel was the one at the hotel the first time Giacomo and Gino visited months ago; he was a regular, always with different women in tow when he visited. Giacomo approached the task desk where Sergeant Lucciano would hand him their orders. The sergeant stood at attention without moving a muscle. Giacomo approached the desk with a crisp march and stood at attention like everyone else in the office.
As the colonel exited the back office he yelled, “When you find out who knows what’s going on in Rome, give me a call!”
When the colonel left the office, everyone went back to work, including Sergeant Lucciano. Giacomo smiled at the sergeant and asked, “What do you have for us today?”
“Here are your work orders. The colonel does that about once a week and leaves as though he’s some type of Officer God. It gets old, if you know what I mean,” commented the senior enlisted. Giacomo took the work orders without losing his smile and relaxed.
“He’s undoubtedly feeling the heat from his superiors, which means he’s decided to inflict his pain on everyone else. Are there going to be any surprise visitors or meetings we need to know about, Sergeant?” asked Giacomo, handing him the daily bribe of cigarettes.
The cigarettes ensured the electricians were updated on just about everything that could get them in trouble. The sergeant also shared information on where the Germans were doing random road checks or building inspections.
Lucciano looked around before he grabbed the cigarettes from his visitor. “There is nothing planned for today.”
Giacomo winked at the sergeant before he turned to leave. He stopped at Gilda’s desk and gave her his best smile before handing her the candy she liked so much. She reddened and slid the delights in her snack drawer.
Giacomo was making his way out to the sedan when he saw the Gestapo officer talking to Gino. He needed to act quickly because he knew they would eventually find something wrong to harass the Italian about and justify their existence. Giacomo stopped a German soldier standing by the door smoking a cigarette.
“Excuse me, buddy, but who is the Gestapo officer over there?”
The soldier looked over in Gino’s direction. “Major Schmidt. Gestapo.”
Giacomo handed the soldier a pack of cigarettes and thanked him as he went to Gino and Major Schmidt.
“Excuse me, sir, is your name Major Schmidt?” asked Giacomo as he closed the distance.
Major Schmidt turned around and looked at the giant Italian with shock and suspicion.
“Who wants to know?”
“Sir, I am a messenger, but the German colonel was yelling at Colonel Specca and asking for you to call him.”
Schmidt had heard the yelling. He finished his cigarette and walked off. Giacomo looked at Gino and said, “Let’s get out of here before he comes back.”
“You could have not been timelier,” Gino said as he pulled away. “He was about to inspect the sedan. What did the colonel want with him?”
“The colonel was yelling at Specca and said if he finds the person who knows what’s going on here, he wanted them to call him. I took that to mean he wanted the major to call him because the Gestapo always knows what’s going on in the city.”
They laughed nervously and headed to the hotel for a scheduled stop and unload.
“We need to be more careful and make sure we don’t have anything in the sedan when we go to the compound in the mornings,” Giacomo said, still laughing. “We’ll face a firing squad of our own weapons.”
Chapter 15
GILDA DELUCA WAS BUSY typing the latest memorandum for Colonel Specca—an article for the local newspaper outlining how well the Fascist movement was doing abroad. As she typed, a dark object caught her attention. She looked to see her office companion standing at attention and the ever-present Nazi major heading toward the colonel’s office and entering without knocking.
“What do you need from me now, Colonel Specca?” asked the major.
The Italian colonel lowered the newspaper he was reading.
“Major Schmidt, I want nothing from you. Why are you here?” replied the colonel.
The colonel was the only Italian military person in Rome who didn’t have to stand at attention when the major came into a room because he outranked him.
“I was told by one of your enlisted personnel you were looking for me.”
The colonel stood to meet the major’s eyes and responded, “I did not ask for the Gestapo, and since when do you listen to junior people, anyway?”
Schmidt was getting angry but knew the colonel was correct. As he was getting ready to leave, he saw Gino and Giacomo’s sedan speed away through the colonel’s window. The major’s stern look turned to a smile when he realized the large Italian soldier had tricked him.
Clever, thought the major. But let’s see who gets the last laugh.
The major stood in the corridor, cooling down before going to meet with his supervisor, the German colonel. As he walked, he studied the building’s construction. Beautiful but impractical and gaudy. Just like the Italians, he thought. The massive corridor was an open breezeway, wh
ich made it pleasant in the summer and spring months, but during the winter months the wind was sure to catch your attention. Arched Roman columns supported the roof.
The German colonel was settling in for the day’s events when Major Schmidt entered his secretary’s office.
“Have the major come into my office,” yelled the colonel. Major Schmidt did not even stop to acknowledge the secretary as he entered his immediate supervisor’s inner office.
“Shut the door, Major.”
The major took his usual seat in front of the colonel’s desk.
“Major Schmidt, it looks like we’re going to have some visitors in the upcoming week. Does the Gestapo know of any reason why my superiors are coming here?”
“Herr Colonel, I don’t know why. My reports have all been normal, with the exception of the isolated treason cases.”
“See if you can make some phone calls to dig into this manner. The more we know about this visit, the better we can prepare and avoid any unnecessary transfers. I’m certainly not interested in going to the front lines, are you?”
In truth, Major Schmidt would much rather be leading tanks into battle than shuffling paperwork and dealing with shifty Italians and cowardly bureaucrats in Rome.
Schmidt acknowledged the order but had no intention of making the calls. He didn’t work for the colonel. He was the Gestapo and answered to a higher authority than the common army colonel. Perhaps they were coming to reassign him to lead a tank command. A lieutenant could do Schmidt’s job in Rome with one eye shut. But few could marshal tanks like the great Major Schmidt. They were going to need all of their best Germans for the next invasion.
“Is there anything else you would like to discuss, Herr Major? How is the way station in the ghetto coming along?”
The major couldn’t believe he was asking this question. It had been in use for three months.
“The station is complete. We already processed people back to the homeland weeks ago.”