Breaking From the Enemy Read online

  For a moment, Gino relaxed, until he noticed two German leather-jacketed men headed in his direction from the forward car. They were stopping everyone left on the passenger cars. Gino grabbed his bag and headed through the doors connecting the passenger car to the coal car. He quickly changed out of his suit and into his uniform without even looking to see who was watching. After throwing the suitcase into the pile of coal, he exited the train and the station without looking back.

  The barracks was full of soldiers getting out of the cold weather when Gino arrived. He was chilly and still full of adrenaline when he saw Giacomo sitting in their corner lounge reading a paper.

  “I’m back. Did I miss anything?”

  Giacomo didn’t even put down the paper to look at him. He just said, “You owe me three packs of cigarettes. How was your visit?”

  Chapter 11

  THE MORNINGS IN ROME were always the same. After the ringing of bells from countless churches, everyone in the Italian barracks made their way toward their mustering station, where they would receive their daily work assignments.

  Gino was already at his assigned spot. He looked around at everyone in their normal places. He smiled sarcastically because it was a crowd of broken-down human beings. Almost every person was either missing a part of their body or couldn’t stand straight.

  Are we that desperate we have to use our wounded to fix our cities? thought Gino.

  As he finished looking around, he felt Giacomo’s left forearm on his shoulder.

  “What are you smirking about?” Giacomo asked.

  Giacomo was always a little late due to his size and difficulty getting around in the morning. He was tucking in his shirt with his right hand, but that wasn’t what made Gino laugh at him.

  “Now what’s so funny?”

  Gino pointed at his shoes. Giacomo looked down; they were unlaced and on the wrong feet.

  “Damn it, I thought there was something wrong with my shoes, but the feeling in my legs takes a while to get going in the morning.”

  Gino reached down to help his friend out, knowing Giacomo couldn’t switch his shoes without sitting. After a couple of minutes, Giacomo’s shoes were ready for the day.

  “What is taking so long for the sergeant to come out?” asked Gino.

  “Look,” remarked Giacomo.

  Gino couldn’t see as far as Giacomo, but he looked toward the area where he was pointing to see what caught his attention. There was the little German lieutenant coming out of the Italian officer’s barracks. As he exited the barracks, he got into a sedan that was waiting for him. The sedan rolled toward the ghetto area of the city. After a couple of minutes, Sergeant Sal emerged from the barracks with their daily work assignments.

  After each soldier’s name was called they went to separate staging areas to await transportation. Gino and Giacomo didn’t pay too much attention to the assignments since they figured they would be going back to the ghetto to finish the lights. As they headed to the toolshed, they noticed some of the soldiers whispering to one another and staring at Giacomo. Gino ignored the whispers as he inventoried the tools he had accumulated since coming to Rome. Stares were not unusual due to Giacomo’s huge size and eye patch. Most soldiers would come for only a week or so before being cleared for further duties. This made for new faces on a daily basis; the turnover rate for the Italian soldiers was quick. The soldiers’ whispers were a sign of anxiety and uncertainty.

  The two friends settled in with the other soldiers going to the ghetto. After each soldier went to their area, the sergeant made a quick tour to ensure they were in the right place.

  “Private Romano, you’re in the wrong group,” yelled Sal. The sergeant pointed at the group of soldiers who regularly did digging. Most of the work was at the granite mines of Fosse Ardeatine.

  “See you later,” Giacomo said.

  They must have something big to move today, thought Gino as his friend left.

  “What are we moving today?” asked Giacomo. No one answered; in fact, most of the soldiers moved away from him as he got closer.

  This can’t be good, he thought.

  The troop transports made their stops. As the troop transport drove toward the ghetto, Gino looked out the back. His friend’s transport was directly behind his and made the turn to the granite mines. He smiled sympathetically; his huge friend was going to have a tough day moving dirt in the sun.

  Gino’s transport stopped to let everyone out. He jumped down with what tools he’d managed to appropriate over time. He smelled human waste. There was little of that yesterday, but today it was if someone had opened a door or hatch to let this horrible smell out. He held his shirt over his nose, but it didn’t help. As he walked toward the same area as before, he inspected the electrical lines and lights to make sure everything was still in working order. All the connections were in good shape. Gino carried what electrical wiring he had left past the check-in area. Next to the check-in area, a fire smoldered. That was where the odor was the strongest. While he looked for an area to construct the new run, he heard some soldiers speaking German on the main road. Lieutenant Muller talked with the sergeant who was at the train station yesterday.

  I wonder what they did with that body from the train station, he thought. Then he realized what must have been in the fire. Without giving them a second look, Gino worked the new electrical line toward the ghetto alley and listened to the German discussion. The noisy morning made it difficult to hear their conversation.

  “Remember what the major said, Sergeant Braun. Try not to kill the soldier. Just teach him a lesson. We need them and don’t want to start a revolt with our fellow Axis partners,” ordered the lieutenant.

  “Where is he?”

  “He’s down the road at the granite mines. Look for the holes in the field as you drive toward the barracks. Don’t do anything until later on. Let everything settle in before you start beating the soldier. You always want to make sure no one sees you and pick soldiers who will not talk. If you want to get a message out to the other workers, use a person that will set an example and show we are in control. In this situation, the biggest soldier will do the trick.”

  The sergeant smiled at the lieutenant before he turned and headed to the sedan.

  The smell from the fire bothered Gino. He dropped the electrical wiring and went to the empty buildings, retreating into the inner workings of the alleyways to get relief. There was some, but now his nose filled with a mix of ash and decay from the old granite buildings. The walls were cold and wet from being built too close to one another, blocking the sun and inviting dampness. As Gino continued through the buildings, it became apparent that something was missing from each house—windows, doors and flooring.

  He quickly realized the soldiers removed all the wood from the structures. That would have been one of the reasons for the fire. Granite, brick, or rocks remained in all of the buildings. The flooring was also removed. Even his barracks had wooden floors to get some relief from the bitterness of the elements. He had never seen anything like this before and felt lucky to not be living in such conditions. This made the task of hanging the wiring even more difficult. He needed more wooden poles, but there were none, so he had to use the walls to hang the wiring and lights. This would require some type of metal spikes to be used to hang the wiring, and of course he had none.

  ***

  Giacomo was immediately unsure about his new work assignment. As the dust settled from the truck, he let everyone get out first. Just to make sure he had a chance of getting out of this alive, he armed himself with a shovel. After a couple of minutes, he heard everyone heading to their designated area to begin work. He jumped from the rear of the transport and immediately fell to his knees from the severe back pain. Giacomo regained his composure and saw the driver and German soldier having a cigarette. Both looked in his direction with puzzled expressions as they puffed on their lighted sticks. The German soldier nodded toward the other ditchdiggers.

  Giacomo lowere
d the shovel and slowly walked to the day’s work of dust, dirt, and rock. He approached the ditch, which was the foundation of a building that had yet to be constructed. Other buildings had been erected, so his concern that this was a big grave was laid to rest. He looked at the other soldiers stretched in all directions before he began the long, slow descent into the ditch. Getting on his knees first, then onto his stomach so he could turn his legs into the ditch, was the only way to manage the descent with as little pain as possible. Once in the ditch, he would need help to get out, which meant at least two other soldiers assisting him. Giacomo approached some of the other soldiers before getting to the task of moving the earth.

  “How long do we do this for?” asked Giacomo, stabbing his shovel into the dirt.

  “We usually work until they come by with some water and a piece of bread,” answered one of the workers.

  He thanked the soldier for his answer and proceeded to dig in silence.

  ***

  “You there, why haven’t you started to hang more lights?” yelled Muller.

  Gino turned around to see the skinny lieutenant looking in his direction.

  “I’m looking for some way to hang the lights since we have no more poles.”

  The lieutenant looked at the walls for a minute. “Come with me.”

  They went to the fire area, which made Gino put his shirt over his nose and mouth. The fire was about out and mostly ash.

  “Look in the fire and see if any metal survived that you can use to hang the lights.”

  Gino halted, knowing he was going to have to dig through whatever horrors lay in this fire pit of war.

  ***

  Dust settled into Giacomo’s hair, nose, and most of his other body parts. His back was throbbing and even his eye patch hurt. The day could not end sooner. As he stopped to wipe the sweat off of his brow, dead silence caught his attention. He was the only one in the pit.

  Where did everyone else go? They’re probably getting their afternoon meal, thought Giacomo.

  Getting out of this pit wasn’t going to happen without somebody helping, so he continued digging until they came back. Punching his shovel into the soil, he heard a sedan pull up but was too deep to see who was in the sedan or what was about to happen.

  As the sedan pulled in, most of the Italian soldiers had already made their distance from the intended target. The only one near the ditch was the German guard who was making sure the objective wasn’t going anywhere. When the dust settled from the sedan, the doors opened to reveal four soldiers.

  “Where is he?” asked Braun, rolling up his sleeves along with the other soldiers. The German soldier moved out of the way and pointed to the ditch next to him.

  Giacomo heard footsteps on the other side of the ditch. He turned, expecting his countrymen back from their break, but to his surprise there weren’t any Italians in view. Instead, he saw the sergeant from the train station with some other Germans at the ridge of the ditch. Giacomo was perplexed at first, thinking they were going to help him dig, but that thought soon passed. He shifted his grip on the shovel. The sergeant was the first to drop into the ditch, followed by the three large soldiers. Giacomo shifted so he could protect his only eye but still inflict some damage to his attackers.

  “Private, put the shovel down and we’ll take it easy on you,” ordered Braun.

  Giacomo smiled, knowing no matter what he did this wasn’t going to go well for him. He lowered the shovel for a moment and one of the German soldiers rushed him. Giacomo smashed the soldier with the back of the shovel. A cloud of dust erupted as the other three soldiers rushed the giant Italian. Giacomo held the shovel in front of his face to protect his only good eye before the punches and kicks pummeled his body. He fell to his stomach and curled into the fetal position, keeping the shovel over his head. Just when he thought the worst was over, a huge weight landed on him. His back snapped loudly before he passed out from the pain.

  “That is enough,” yelled the sergeant. Braun grabbed Giacomo’s shovel but couldn’t get him to release it. Releasing the shovel, Braun dusted off his trousers and ordered, “Let’s go. He’s done for the day.”

  ***

  After looking around the huge firepit, Gino found a metal rod for poking and numerous metal spikes used to hang shutters and windows. He also found bones deep in the middle. That was the source of the horrible smell. Gino couldn’t tell whether the remains were human or animal, and he didn’t want to know. He continued to search for metal spikes, concentrating on the outer ring. All the spikes were still hot. He placed them on the edge of the fire to cool. Having rescued various types of spikes, he rushed to get as far away as possible from the odor burning his nose raw. After getting back to his electrical wire, he examined the spikes closely. Most were usable, but a few were beyond the trouble.

  Starting at one end of the narrow alleyway, he punched the spikes into the walls. He only had an old chair available, so raising the wiring to any reasonable height was a challenge. Gino even went inside the apartments to drive some of the spikes into the outer walls. As the workday ended, he hung the lights as quickly as possible. The Germans wanted everything done, but with only himself to hang the lights, he would need more than a day.

  Gino heard the transport pull up. He stopped what he was doing to grab a seat back home. As he cleared the ghetto, he heard Lieutenant Muller.

  “Where are you going? Come here.”

  Gino saw the German on the other side of the fire of death.

  “Herr Lieutenant, if I don’t get on that transport, I will not be able to get back to the barracks tonight.”

  “Are you done hanging the lights?”

  “I was the only one hanging lights today. If my electrical partner was with me, we would have finished stringing them. I need another day to finish.”

  There was about a minute of silence while the German took notes and looked around the ghetto. Gino fidgeted, waiting for the officer to give him permission to leave.

  “Private, you may go, and make sure you finish tomorrow with whatever partner you get, or you won’t be leaving until you’re done.”

  Gino saluted and turned to his ride home. As he jumped in the back of the transport Gino thought, What did he mean “whatever partner I get”?

  ***

  The ditch the Germans soldiers used as their beating ground a few hours earlier was quiet. The only visible sign of a human being was two hands holding a wooden handle and boots sticking out of the dirt. No one had dared to go back into the hole after the Germans departed some three hours ago. Everyone was scared to go look at what was left of their Italian giant. All four Germans looked like they had been in a battle with a bear. If they looked that bad, one could only imagine what was left of their fellow soldier.

  Giacomo opened his eye—it was working, which was a surprise. He thought after that beating he might end up blind. His head pounded from the blade of the shovel wedged against his head. The long wooden handle was underneath his armpit and pressed against his body. He moved his arm to release the pressure, and within seconds the pounding in his head subsided.

  Why am I under all this dirt? Giacomo wondered as he moved his legs.

  Gino was still in the back of the transport thinking about what the lieutenant said to him, and with one deep breath, he figured it out—something was going to happen to Giacomo. He glanced out the back to see where the transport was on the road heading to the barracks.

  Have we gone by the granite mines yet?

  He scanned the landscape to the left. They were approaching the ditches. He squinted and saw the broken-down Italian troops loading on the transport. He looked inside the transport, knowing Giacomo always sat in the front. Between the road dust and the movement of the truck carrying him, Gino could barely see. They were about parallel to the other transport when Gino determined there was no sign of Giacomo. Something happened to his friend.

  After rolling out of the dirt, Giacomo was on his back. Most of his exterior injuries
were minor—cuts and bruises to his head and arms. He had trouble breathing from some bruised or broken ribs. That must have been the snap he heard when he passed out. What puzzled him was that the back pain he had felt since the battle in Greece wasn’t there anymore. Probably because I have so many other injuries the old ones cannot compete.

  Giacomo’s attention went from his injuries to what he was hearing. A lot of noise came from the road near the ditches. It sounded as though the soldiers were loading and heading out from the day’s work. He had a hard time getting up, and every time he tried to yell the pain from his chest stopped him. All he could muster was a whisper. Giacomo rolled on his left side, grabbing the shovel and getting to his knees. He heard the transport pull away. With the only strength he could gather, the giant threw the shovel out of the hole before falling onto his stomach.

  Gino stood scanning the work field for his friend. He ignored commands to sit. The other transport pulled out of the field and onto the dirt road. As the transport turned right, a shovel popped out of one of the ditches.

  “Did you see that?”

  Nobody even looked in Gino’s direction. If he jumped from the transport, he could be shot for desertion. Without wasting another minute, Gino jumped and hit the road just clear of the next truck in the caravan. Only the Italian soldiers next to Gino noticed. No one so much as blinked; desertions happened about every day in Rome.

  The transport’s Italian driver saw Gino jump. He glanced at the German guard sitting next to him, but the German had already closed his eyes for the ride home. Having witnessed what happened to Giacomo earlier in the day, the driver didn’t say a word to the guard.

  Giacomo heard the transport drive away. For a moment of silence, all he heard was the distant noise of the trucks.