War in Val d'Orcia

by Iris Origo

  JUNE 2ND

  Nucci mercifully recovers her speech, as inexplicably as she had lost it.

  JUNE 3RD

  The Allies take Valmontone, Velletri, Anagni. Violent fighting on the Alban hills. Now it can only be a matter of days.

  Bombing and machine-gunning on the roads is now continuous. All day the planes fly over us, the big bombing formations of twenty-four or thirty-six planes for the large-scale attacks on trains or military objectives, and, far more dreaded by us, the small, swift-flying groups of six or seven fighters, swooping down in an instant, machine-gunning any vehicle on the road, and bombing lorries or bridges. They are at work from dawn until dusk, and, now that there is a moon, go on attacking all night.

  JUNE 4TH

  Wake to the sound of planes flying low, and look out of the window in time to see bombs falling—obviously aimed at the bridge on the Orcia in the valley. Drive down there and find that the bridge has been missed by a few yards, and so has the farm, a hundred yards away. Four large bombs have exploded within forty yards of the farm, but mercifully no lives have been lost. It seems likely, however, that the planes will have another shot, and that the family must move out. We accordingly spend the morning in loading their wheat and furniture on to carts, and transferring their smaller possessions to an underground cellar. Now and again we hear the familiar droning overhead: ‘Here they are again!’ and take cover under the trees until the formation has passed. Mariano, the farmer, shows a certain wry humour: ‘Keep your stories for winter evenings a veglia (sitting up round the fire),’ he says to the women, who are beginning to chatter about their experiences and feelings, ‘and get on with the move.’

  When we get home we turn on the radio: the Allied troops are within six miles of Rome.

  We speculate as to the future. The fall of Rome is now a matter of hours—but will the Allies be able to cut off the German retreat? If so, Tuscany will be saved: if not, our troubles are just about to begin.

  Late in the evening we hear that fighting has begun in the suburbs of Rome. General Alexander issues a proclamation to the Roman people, urging them to help the Allied troops by every means in their power.

  Shots from a fast-flying plane, at midnight, warn our partisans that, in the next few days, ammunition will be supplied to them from the air, within a given area. They will light fires to show the exact spot.

  JUNE 5TH

  The Allied armies have entered Rome! We hear the bare news at eight a.m. The Allies entered late last night by Porta Maggiore, and the fighting continued up to the Forum. A few hours later we hear that the Allied Armies, barely pausing in Rome, are pursuing the Germans in their retreat, on the road to Bracciano and Viterbo, which will bring them here. But the rest of the German forces, farther south, are still fighting violently in the Anagni-Fiuggi sector, the object of the Allies, presumably, being to cut off their retreat and force them eastwards, across the Apennines, towards Pescara. If so, Tuscany may largely be spared.

  At ten a.m. three German officers turn up, part of the staff of a hospital at Monterotondo. They require the Castelluccio, the nursery school, and the schools, not for the wounded (who are to be quartered at Chianciano), but for the staff, provisions, etc. They will arrive this evening, and we have half a day in which to move all the children into the villa, and to clear out the furniture. Take up the carpets and curtains in the visitors’ rooms, and put the children there, twenty-three in all, and turn the downstairs drawing-room into their dining-room and play-room with the nursery school furniture. The children, delighted, run up and down, ‘helping’. At seven p.m. the officers turn up: the houses are ready for them. They say that they have come from Monterotondo, and that the rest of the unit will probably arrive during the night, but the roads are so blocked that they do not know how or when they will get through. They also say that the fighting has been violent and the casualties high.

  Late at night, more news from Rome. There was fighting inside the city between Germans and anti-Fascists, and there are still thirty thousand Germans wounded in the city. The German hospitals of Monte Mario, with their staff and wounded, have been captured. The Allies state that they are attempting to cope with the appalling situation of lack of food and water within the city.

  JUNE 6TH

  All last night German lorries are travelling northwards, and we hear planes bombing and machine-gunning the road by moonlight. Some firing quite near here at midnight, and again in the early morning.

  In the morning I find the garage and the farm courtyard full of German Red Cross lorries. Their drivers, utterly exhausted, ask for coffee and food. Many of them have had no sleep for three days—they look dazed and bewildered. One of them fell asleep at the wheel, and took his lorry into a ditch; his face is cut and bleeding. They all say that the state of the roads is appalling. Planes continue to fly low over us, and I suggest that the Germans should put their cars under cover, but their officer is still at Chianciano, and they seem incapable of doing this without his orders. Two bombs fell in the valley, near the bridge across the Orcia. The children dance about the garden or play in the sand-pile, no longer even glancing up at the planes.

  Antonio has gone down to Chianciano. Last night the Commissario of the Comune rang him up, begging him to act as an intermediary with the partisans. A few nights ago, one of the Fascists of Chianciano was captured by the partisans—who now say they will only give him up in exchange for several of their number, who are in Fascist hands. The partisans are now indisputably in control of the countryside, and take what they require: yesterday (with our connivance) all of our cheese on its way to the government stores; today, one of our horses from a farm. This morning the captain of the Carabinieri of Montepulciano telephoned to Antonio in great distress: he had woken up to find that all his Carabinieri had left! They too have joined the partisans.

  Hear at eleven-thirty that the Allied troops have landed this morning on the coast of France. Proclamation of Eisenhower to the people of France.

  Allied troops pursuing Germans north, north-east, and northwest of Rome on via Cassia, via Flaminia, and via Salaria. Fifth Army on via Tiburtina.

  In the afternoon one of the Germans says that he has heard on his radio the news of an Allied landing at Genoa. All the evening we listen in hopefully, but in vain.

  JUNE 7TH

  No confirmation of the landing at Genoa—but a rumour reaches us that Grosseto has been occupied by Allied paratroops and local partisans. General Alexander issues a broadcast to the Italian patriots, telling them that the hour of their rising has come at last. They are to cut the German Army communications wherever possible, by destroying roads, bridges, railways, telegraph-wires. They are to form ambushes and cut off retreating Germans—and to give shelter to Volksdeutsche who have deserted from the German Army. Workmen are urged to sabotage, soldiers and police to desert, ‘collaborators of Fascism’ to ‘take this last chance of showing their patriotism and helping the cause of their country’s deliverance. United, we shall attain victory’.

  Spent the morning in Montepulciano, driving there in the pony-cart, and meeting a group of partisans guarding the cross-roads. Find the captain of the Carabinieri in despair over his men’s desertion. What, he asks, is he to do now? How is he to keep order? It appears that his men have not only deserted, but have taken with them all their arms and ammunition, including the captain’s own tommy-gun. The immediate cause of their desertion is the order to wear black shirts, like the Fascist militiamen, and still more the fear of being taken off to Germany—but the truth is that for a long time their sympathies have been with the partisans. With tears in his eyes the captain begs me to ask Antonio to persuade them to come back! They know perfectly well, he says, that he has made a secret exit for them, with an underground passage, by which they could at any time run away from the Germans! If they will only come back, they need not wear a black shirt, and no reference will be made to this episode. And then, as I am leaving, he adds: ‘Let them come back even on the l
ast day before the Allies arrive—and I shall be satisfied!’

  At the Braccis’ there is much rejoicing over the news, and the grown-up sons, fired by Alexander’s message, propose to join the partisans at La Foce, but their father, who is the mayor of Montepulciano, thinks they can be of more use in the town itself. He and the Commissario del Fascio are meeting two leaders of the partisans this afternoon! Fascism is not so much being destroyed as crumbling before our eyes. By the time of the Allies’ arrival here, nothing of the whole wretched structure will be left, and its supporters will have vanished into thin air.

  Meanwhile Antonio has been spending the morning first in getting under cover the numerous large lorries that were standing round the house, an obvious target for planes—and then in talking to Beppe, the leader of our local partisans. They are prepared to give up the Fascist in their hands in exchange for ten of their friends who are held by the Fascists. This message has already been conveyed to the Prefect, and they are now awaiting his answer. As for the Carabinieri, they have no intention of going back until the Allies arrive, but are fully prepared to do so then! Tonight the head of the local partisans will furnish us with the key to the special messages on the radio, so that we may hand them on, their own receiver being poor. If, later on, the retreating German troops begin to plunder and rob on their retreat, Beppe and his men will join up with Antonio and some of our own men to form a guard in defence of the farm.

  In the course of the evening one of the POWs from our own camp, who is suffering from bronchitis, walks over from the other side of the valley to ask our nurse for some medicine—and is unpleasantly surprised to find himself in the midst of a German unit! ‘Never mind,’ says Antonio, ‘just walk across the road with me, and no one will look at you.’ And so indeed they do, and fetch the medicine.

  The Germans have with them, as camp followers, two handsome girls from Monterotondo, who call themselves ‘Red Cross helpers’, a new name for one of the oldest of professions. German lorries continue to arrive in the morning, having travelled during the night, but many are still missing. The lieutenant in charge of the traffic is a rude little bully, and Antonio has a passage at arms with him. The young doctor who is with him, a tall, polite young man, apologises later. The men are mostly ‘correct’, and express regret for turning out the children. All are tired and depressed, but all are convinced that the war will soon be over. The doctor once again repeats the story of the terrible ‘secret weapon’ that is to be used (very soon now) against England. He says it is not gas, but something terrible. Goebbels has wanted to use it before now, but Hitler has hesitated. Now, however, it will come into action, and will be decisive.

  JUNE 8TH

  The hospital at Montepulciano was hit early this morning, the bombs fortunately falling only on the outlying washing-house, and no one was killed. But since the hospital is on the main road, on which German columns are passing, beside a bridge, it is to be evacuated at once, no easy matter, since the town is already full, and the hospital contains a maternity ward and an orphanage.

  On the Pianoia road, between us and Montepulciano, the partisans have attacked a German armoured car, two men being killed on each side. This may bring German reprisals upon the whole district. Beppe tells us that last night some ammunition was dropped for the partisans in the valley, and that they believe that some paratroops have also come down. From our terrace, during the morning, we see the Allied light bombers sweep down on the roads, where the German convoys are going northwards, and watch the bombs dropping. We also hear, at midday, tommy-guns firing nearby, in the direction of Pianoia, and wonder whether the German reprisals are beginning there.

  The main road to the north is strewn with propaganda leaflets to tempt the retreating German soldiers to surrender. Each leaflet calls itself a ‘safe-conduct’ and states in four languages that ‘The German soldier who carries this safe-conduct is using it as a sign of his genuine wish to give himself up. He is to be well looked after, to receive food and medical attention as required, and is to be removed from the zone of combat as soon as possible’. On the other side of the leaflet, in German, is a somewhat highly-coloured description of the amenities of life in Allied prisoners’ camps.

  The Allies have now occupied Civitavecchia, Bracciano and Subiaco. The German radio forecasts a German line of defence on the hills immediately to the north of these places. It is now clear that the greater part of the German forces have not been cut off, but it remains to be seen whether any supplies will be able to reach those which are now slowly retreating. The slower the retreat, the worse for Tuscany.

  In the evening, the true story of the Pianoia incident reaches us. It appears that, during the bombing of the Montepulciano road, four Germans got out of their car and took refuge in the farm called San Carlo, at the cross-roads. While they were sitting there a group of partisans came up, disarmed and captured them, and also took the car. Within a few hours, however, three of the Germans succeeded in escaping, promptly hurried to their unit, returned to the farm with an armoured car, burned the farm and arrested the farmers. The latter will be kept as hostages, and will be shot unless the captured German and his car are given up.

  JUNE 9TH

  A day of odd contrasts. It is Donata’s first birthday and while planes drone overhead and swoop down on the valley roads, we have a children’s party in the garden. (The children have, by now, completely lost their original nervousness, and we want, if possible, to keep them like this, especially now that the danger is drawing nearer.) The planes are particularly assiduous overhead, however, during the sack and three-legged races, and it seems better to continue the party indoors.

  The evening radio tells us that Viterbo, Vetralla and Tarquinia are taken. The German hospital unit decides to leave tomorrow. The bombing on the road is increasing, and at Pienza the Germans have set fire to several farms, in reprisal for yesterday’s incident. We begin to wonder whether the time has not come to move the children away.

  JUNE 10TH

  Send up ox-carts to the farm at the top of the hill, Pietraporciana, laden with twenty small camp beds for the children, some pots and pans and some food, so that, when the time comes to move them, they will be able to get away quickly. We also pack our last valuables and personal papers and some more clothes in a tin trunk, and bury it at night in the garden.

  At midnight a loud explosion tells us that the partisans have succeeded in blowing up a bridge on the Radicofani road, which should prevent a lot of traffic from coming this way.

  At Pienza there is a German mopping-up, and eight partisans are captured. We are now completely cut off from Montepulciano, as no workmen will come by that road for fear of being caught.

  JUNE 12TH

  While I am still asleep, at five a.m., a message is sent up to me by Antonio to get up at once, as the Germans have arrived to ‘mop-up’ the district. They are in two large SITA buses, about eighty men. They tried to break into the granary at the Castelluccio, then came on here, but seeing the courtyard full of German Red Cross cars, scattered to the farms, which they searched for arms and ammunition. On our place they only steal some food, but we learn later on that just above us, at Castiglioncello, a farm has been burned and two men shot.

  In the afternoon, while I am with the children in the garden rehearsing the ‘Sleeping Beauty’, I hear a lorry drive up, and some of these same German troops come tramping, fully armed, into the garden. They do not look attractive. I go up to them, not without some inner apprehension, and ask them what they want. But the answer is unexpected: ‘Please—wouldn’t the children sing for us?’ The children sing O Tannenbaum and Stille Nacht (which they learned last Christmas)—and tears come into the men’s eyes. ‘Die Heimat—it takes us back to die Heimat!’ So they climb into their lorry and drive away.

  Dr. W., a German doctor who had been here before, turns up, on his way north with his hospital, and tells us that yesterday he was obliged to shoot a German soldier, who, near Castiglione del Lago, was rapin
g a young girl. W. was passing by on his motor-bicycle, and the girl’s father ran out, calling for help. He went in, and shot the man on the spot.

  He also warns us to beware of the First and Fourth Division of German paratroops, if they should come this way. It is they who were formerly at Anzio, where they were attacked by the Italian Division which had been fraternising with them until the previous day. They had many casualties, and their resentment extends to every Italian, soldier or civilian.

  A message from the partisans summons us to the meeting-place in the woods, where their leader, Beppe, gives us the following warning. His brother has just come down after four weeks’ imprisonment in Siena, during the course of which he was beaten and tortured with burning cigarette ends to make him talk. The information they wanted was about Antonio and myself, and we conclude that there is a spy on the place, since every one of our movements, and especially every meeting with the partisans, has been reported accurately, as well as much that is untrue, such as that we have given twelve million lire to the partisans, and have a deposit of ammunition at the Castelluccio. Both Beppe’s brother and one of our British prisoners, who was also arrested, heroically refused to give away anything. It appears that for a long time we headed the list of suspects to be arrested, and that it was the German Colonel Bock (who formed part of the Court of Inquiry) who caused the arrest to be delayed. But now, Beppe warns us, though the Fascists are no longer to be feared, it is possible that the retreating Germans will receive orders to take us with them. So Beppe says we had better walk up the hill and join the partisans. They have cleared out a part of the farm they are occupying to make room for us, and have even gone so far as to clean the floors, in preparation for our arrival! We, however, think that if we were really going to be arrested it would have happened yesterday, and, in any case, we have no intention of leaving the children and the place, until the Germans actually come to fetch us.