Memories Of Our Days

Chiara Cesetti

MEMORIES OF OUR DAYS

Translator Emanuela Paganucci

Publisher: Tektime

Copyright © 2021 – Chiara Cesetti

For Renato, Claudia, Leo

for their patience, love, and tenderness

“…you know that novels have always seduced me because they are like a bowl where you can pour in time, reality and fiction at the same time, dialectics and poetry, ideas and feelings. You know that it seduces me because in its mixture with reality and fiction, dialectics, poetry, ideas and feelings, it provides a truth which is more true that the real truth. A reinvented truth, universalized, in which each of us identify ourselves and recognize ourselves. A novel never exclude Man. No matter what story it tells, and where and when it is set, a novel tells about men.”

(Oriana Fallaci)

I wasn’t there

I need to go back

Go back to the beginning

Flicking through opaque sheets one by one to get here, with you, now.

Giulia

1 Part one

1 Chapter 1

Giovanni e Giulia

-Thank God, it’s over!

-What a night! What a night! What a night!-

The two women were moving about in a frenzy trying to tidy up all the things scattered in the kitchen. They stopped now and again for no reason, rubbing their hands on their aprons or removing from their eyes an invisible lock of hair.

-It is a miracle that it went well-

-No, it is not a miracle- Dr Marinucci’s voice made them turn suddenly to the door –it’s not a miracle Ada. It has been a long but not risky labour. Giulia had a hard time but she will recover soon and the baby is healthy and strong. And now please make me a good cup of coffee!- he said clapping his hands.

The doctor smiled and that released the tension quickly and for the first time Ada and Maria could start feeling the joy that the birth of a baby brings.

The first ray of sun peeped through the window.

Winter had been long, almost endless, but the day Antonio was born, there was a warm sun which let foresee a slow spring.

The stressful moments of the night just gone, gave way to the happiness for this joyful event. Quietness followed the commotion of earlier on, to show respect for the hard time that the mother had. Giulia was now asleep beside a baby with black hair and dark eyes.

The baby’s slanty eyes were the same as his mother and the dark complexion like the father. His tiny lips were closed on an inexpressive and undefined face of someone who, totally helpless, has landed, without knowing it, to a place unknown to him. Giovanni was afraid to touch him.

Wrapped around in a swaddling blanket, covered up in of the many woollen blankets that the aunts had made for him -Hold him in your arms- Giulia said to him.

-No, no. It is so tiny- he replied, looking with apprehension at the little head which was dangling motionless. She was making a laugh of his fear; she managed to get a smile tickling the baby’s chin.

She was quite petite, her well-proportioned body made her look taller than she actually was. Her face was not particularly beautiful, her thick eyebrows framed her bright hazel eyes in which you could see that the liveliness was hardly restrained by the effort made to think before speaking. You could get from her this sense of firmness in her beliefs which shielded her from the difficulties of every day life and, though still quite young, she had the ability to quietly get her place in every situation arising.

Giovanni was tall, almost sturdy, and was, as everybody said, a handsome man. So many people were astounded to hear that he asked Giulia to marry him just because they could not see inside his soul. He had met her in the house of a common relation and he saw in that little woman something that he would have never found in anyone else. Giulia, on the other hand, felt a strong attraction, which she hid very well when there were other people around, but it would feel her soul and sometimes, suddenly and unrestrained, was showing in the looks she would give him.

They got married a few months after they had met, on May 12th, 1906. In their wedding photo the bride was only slightly shorter than the husband because the photographer insisted on her to get up on a little stool.

They lived with Giovanni’s family: his father and his two unmarried sisters, Ada and Maria, in the big house just outside the small town.

In the early days Giulia felt observed and judged: she had to undergo a daily test under the watchful eye of her new relations. She soon understood everybody’s boundaries and struggled in silence to have her own space.

Day after day, among all the unspoken words which materialised in small silent gestures, the exchange of quick allusive glances and the daily worries, each of them changed their ways a little and the household could bear the presence of three women.

The sisters-in-law learnt soon enough that Giulia’s unsaid words were much more meaningful and started to fear her judgements, without blaming her for anything, considering that she was never impolite to them. While the two sisters compared their sensations and express their dissatisfactions, Giulia never even mentioned her little daily worries to her husband. Giovanni was not aware of the minor underground conflicts taking place within the household walls and in the evening he could enjoy her warm presence without worries, more and more aware and almost shocked at the inner strength of his little woman.

A few months later, the old Antonio Barrieri died peacefully in his bed. His daughters found him dead one morning when, as usual, they went up to his bedroom to give him his breakfast.

The pain was alleviated knowing that the old man passed away without suffering, happy to know that he would have had a heir. He had passed on the farm to his son a few years before and things went on exactly the same after his death.

The house was big, one of the biggest in the small town, surrounded by land owned by the family. It was a two-storey house, the two small windows in the attic were always closed. Above the big hall door there was a balcony with a balustrade made of small grey columns, it overlooked the valley as far as the river that circumscribed the property . On the right-hand side, down below, there was a forest, where the cattle grazed in the wild: horses, cows, pigs that were bred and sold. The Barrieri family were farmers and they were trading cattle too.

The birth of little Antonio legitimised Giulia as unconditioned mistress of the house. The aunts were now ready to pass on the sceptre to the one who had given the family the precious fruit of her femininity. The gift of maternity that they could never have, acknowledged the undisputed superiority: they subdued to the little one who was asleep upstairs and to his mother as a consequence. On her part, the young woman never gave the impression of taking advantage of her condition, and quietly, over time, she arranged and managed the household according to her wish.

Over the following five years three more children were born: Clara, Agnese and Luciano; everybody’s help was needed.

Clara was the image of her father. She had black and curly hair, her skin was amber and glowing, her eyes had an undefined dark green colour and her upright posture made her into a beautiful creature.

She showed self-control and stubbornness which discouraged any quarrel with her. Looking at her, her mother prayed to God she would always make the right choices, because she knew that nobody would have deflected her from anything she had set her mind on. Her mother too found it difficult to get deep down her soul. At times, during a discussion, she was concerned to see her isolate herself with her thoughts, leaving herself out of conversations on purpose and chase one of her secret feelings, she would then make an effort within herself to get back and take part in the conversation. If was almost as if she wanted to create an alibi towards the others, just to avoid being questioned about her silence.

One evening, she was just over three, they were all sitting around the table for dinner. The kitchen was well lit and heated by the fire which was blazing in the big fireplace. The room was connected to a large dark hall, at the end of which there were the hall door to the house and halfway through the corridor, the staircase leading to the bedrooms upstairs..everybody was around the table. The little girl was quiet as usual, she was sitting with her back to the hall. All of a sudden she let off a scream and got down from the chair.

-What’s up? What’s happening?- Giovanni took her immediately on his lap, frightened while she was screaming, clung to her father’s neck.

-What did you see?-

They dashed to the hall. Everything was fine.

-There is nothing, look, there’s nothing, you see?- The lit up room was empty.

Everyone was very busy around her trying to comfort her, to convince her that nothing had happened and nothing would have happened. She was quite stubborn and kept on shaking and crying, so upset from that shadow that had suddenly appeared in her soul. When she realised that there were too many people sharing her dismay, she wriggled out of her father’s hug, went back to her seat and started eating leaving everybody in shock because without saying words that she did not know yet, with her quiet and composed attitude seemed to tell all of them - Please excuse me and don’t worry about me, this is my business and I’ll deal with that myself. Now please ignore me-

She was never in conflict with her mother. She understood her ways and did not like to get in conflict with her. She had taken from her mother, her apparent natural quietness and her emotional self-control, but also she was sure of her actions because they were well-thought-out knowing that she would take responsibility for the consequences. Their personalities were quite similar but she had never shown much closeness, as if she had received from her everything since her birth and there was nothing left to learn.

She was fascinated by her father, her eyes lit up with deep excitement when she saw him, delighted to sit on his knees or on his shoulders, she was so tall she could rule over the world.

-Claclà, come here- he used to say to her in the evening before sitting down at the table. While the women finished up making the dinner, in winter, beside the fireplace, among the familiar smells mixing together in the house at the end of the day, or in summer, under the porch where the smell from the countryside blended with the smells of the animals, Giovanni would put her astride his boots and she would fly around the place, his strong hands holding hers.

-Up you go!

They were rare moments when she was laughing loud. When they were about to stop playing, after flying around higher one last time, he would take her in his arms and she would rather breathless smell his work jacket deeply and the laughter would stay in her eyes for a long time.

Antonio would get in between them, even though he would not enjoy himself as much as her. Sometimes he felt as if he was almost an intruder and, feeling slightly uneasy, he would move away and go back to what he was doing before or just watch them enjoy themselves. Giovanni would walk by him and pet his head or take his chin in between his fingers, saying -Hey, young man! Shaking him vigorously.

Antonio, Antonino, had a different temperament than his sister. He was leading a quieter childhood looking around more hesitantly, looking for comfort in the care given by his mother and his aunts. Even though Clara was two years younger, she would make their decisions when they were together and he was happy enough to stand by them, without making any fuss.

She was organising their games.

-You are the daddy now and you are riding home on your horse, I make the dinner. This is my garden and you come and see me......-

Antonino followed the instructions, happy to enjoy her company without arguing. He was physically smaller than his sister, he had great big dark eyes sometimes a little scared which were looking around eager to get the family’s approval. He was submissive and reserved, he did not raise barriers between his request for affection and the desire of the adults to give it to him. He let them love him without difficulty.

He really worshipped his mother, she felt exactly the same for him. When they were together, Giulia’s eyes, usually rather stern, sparkled with infinite sweetness just for him.

He was never completely at his ease with his father. Although Giovanni was not a grouchy person, he was a little intimidated by his presence and he preferred to run into the women’s arms in the household.

Three years after Clara’s birth, the two twins were born: Agnese and Luciano.

The last months into the pregnancy were the toughest for Giulia: her belly was huge and that was one of the hottest and longest summers of the last years. Her legs were swollen all the time and she found it difficult to move. Ada and Maria tried to get her to rest as much as she could and were secretly happy to take her place, even as a mum. Although Giulia did not complain that much, everyone was concerned about her. Giovanni, especially over the last few days, used to come home mid-morning or during the afternoon to find out how she was. He would find her often lying down on the bed of their bedroom in semi-darkness, propped against two pillows to try and breath more easily.

The day of the delivery, on September 18th, dr Marinucci did not leave her for one second and followed her labour all night with concern.

At ten o’clock in the morning, the twins were finally born: tiny and purple, they were showing the signs of a distressful labour and seemed to be rather frail. The little girl started to cry quite loud and calmed down as soon as she was put to her mother’s breasts, sucking her mother’s milk with unexpected energy. The little boy, on the other hand, would get easily tired and his meals were long and tiring. As soon as it was the right time, the aunts started to make food for him, with milk, sugar and olive oil, in order to complement his diet and get his mother to have a rest, she was exhausted from a breast feeding that would go on for hours.

Once the first few months were over, Agnese turned into a strong and hungry little girl, very similar to her father as far as her strong body was concerned.

Giulia, on her part, after the first days when she was exhausted, was happy to feel free from that burden that would give her little freedom. Despite all the things that had to be done, in a short period of time, she was happy again and rediscovered the happiness to look after the family. The aunts were vital to run the household now. Each of them seemed to have found their role in the inner workings of the family, letting every hidden tension go.

The doctor advised against new pregnancies and there was no more talk of pregnancies between the two spouses.

1 Chapter II

May 1915

Giulia got up really early, like every morning, well before dawn. She loved going around the house quietly, wearing her nightdress, with her hair up in a messy braid. She enjoyed those few moments of solitude, standing still in front of the window overlooking the long tree-lined avenue, in the light that was just starting to peep through and promised the may sun. She was sorting out her thoughts before locking them in a secret drawer. She did not know if she would have had the time to let them out during her working day.

She was quite careful not to wake anybody up, with fine gestures, she lit up the fire on the burner beside the big fireplace and started to heat up the milk for everybody.

-Already up?-

Giovanni’s voice was like a whisper, it did not catch her by surprise. She was waiting for him. It was the same every morning. The words were always the same, his way of greeting her with that pinch of tenderness and gratitude that would not show in any other way.

Giulia smiled slightly. She would reply without turning around

-Where are you going today, to the field beyond the woods?

-That’s right, we need to start the hay mowing.

-Will you be back for lunch or will you stay there until this evening?-

-I’ll stay there, I told the men to start the mowing and I don’t want to leave them -

-I’ll make you something to eat then…-

Her words just whispered and her careful gestures not to break the intimate atmosphere of those rare moments: she took a pan from the pan hanger on the wall, the eggs from the wicker basket on the shelf and she cooked a yellow omelette. She cut two large slices from the loaf of bread which was kept in the cupboard and filled it with the omelette, she wrapped them around a white serviette and she placed them in the mess tin. The smell spread out in the kitchen blending with the smell of heated milk and the day was starting off .

-Good morning…- Maria went into the room, she was already dressed and her hair was done, she was ready for her working day. She was a tall and thin woman, her hair was dark and straight, up in a bun sitting at the back of her head. She was well over 40s and was hiding her femininity wearing home garments which were loose and comfortable. She was as quiet as her father used to be but was not as strong-willed as he was. Her gestures and elusive looks showed her shyness which precluded her from having her own family life. She had quite a few chances to get married. A young man from the village had showed his interest for her a few times but she did not want to hear about him and everything just faded away. Anyhow it was hard to know what was really in her mind. when Giovanni was thinking about her, he was convinced that she had been secretly in love with someone who could not marry her and this secret and unacknowledged love had always stayed with her, without never fading away. She had led her youth giving up her fight for her happiness, she was convinced that she had made the right choice, she was happy to lead her sheltered life within the family.

Giovanni was leaning against the closed widow and was looking in the distance, beyond the borders of the woods where the sun was going to rise soon. The sky was bright and greenish, with long and thin clouds which were slightly darker.

-The weather looks good today- he said without expecting any reply from anyone.

-Are you going to the field beyond the woods?- Maria asked.

-Yes, I am starting the hay making-

-It’s time now, it’s nearly the end of May…-

-We are actually late…it has rained quite a bit this season..

-Nobody has started yet-

-How can people start with this kind of weather- Giovanni said walking to the door .

Giulia followed him through the corridor holding the mess tin with his lunch. Before parting, sheltered from the others, they exchanged a mutual look of understanding. She went upstairs and heard Giovanni in the garage fastened the buggy to the horse. A few minutes after, she heard the horse trotting and the creaking of the gravel under the wheels.

It was nearly noon when a familiar person appeared at the bottom of the long path. He was almost running, waving his arms about to get the attention and shouting very loudly- Giovanni, Giovanni….Giulia…-

It was Rodolfo, uncle Rudi, Giulia’s brother. Beloved uncle Rudi. His nieces and nephews doted on him and it was a great joy to see him. He was a real chatterbox, and his boisterous games were great fun for them. Antonino in particular was happy when he was around because when the two of them were alone in the buggy and far from the watchful look of the women, he would gently whip the horse to get it to trot slightly faster. The buggy would jolt on the road and the child would be happy with that forbidden escape. They would stop under the big mulberry tree at the edge of the ploughed field. Standing there he would cry ‘Giddy up, giddy up”, Rudi lashed the branches of the tree with his whip. Small dark fruit showed down from the tree over their heads, unfailingly staining their clothing. Antonino knew that his uncle would make sure he was not scolded and enjoyed the freedom of it all to the full.

That was not his usual behaviour: he shouted from a distance, he waved his hat and looked out of breath. Giulia rushed outside with her heart in her throat. He was her only brother, a few years younger than her, he was so outgoing that everything would be forgiven to him, even when he needed help on account of his superficial behaviour. He started off university in Rome, he was doing Law. He did not actually study really, but he enjoyed light-heartedly the two years that his family had granted him. Considering that he did not sit any exam, he came back and now was working in one of the Town Hall offices settling for a low income that was never enough for his needs. After his parents’ death, he lived in the paternal house in the centre of the small town; however he would always turn to Giulia for help. She could never rebuke him enough, aware and often secretly amused by those odd purchases, frivolous at times, but he could not help himself.

-Life is just one, dear Giovanni- he would cheerfully say to his brother-in-law- You wouldn’t think you are immortal, would you?-

Nobody could disagree with him and every time they saw him coming, they all felt amusingly curious.

He got to the house door out of breath, waving a newspaper.

- …Giovanni…Is Giovanni here…?- he cried.

-Thank God, he is not her for him- Giulia thought.

-What’s happening, can you tell me what’s happening?-she could eventually ask, breathless after all the distress she felt.

Rudi sat on one of the chairs in the porch and placed the newspaper in front of her eyes with a radiant smile that made his face glow.

-We are at war! We are at war starting from tonight!

Giulia took a glimpse of the title quickly: ‘Italy declared war against Austria-Hungary. People, the die is cast: we must win!’

-Rudi, what does it mean?-

-It means that Italy has finally declared war against Austria and we are going to get our lands back -

-Does it mean that you must go to war?- Giulia asked turning pale. She had to lean against her brother’s shoulder because all of a sudden everything around her lost its colour and her legs could not support her any longer.

-Europe has been fighting for months, it was about time that we did our bit. This war will be short, you’ll see, short and victorious.

-Uncle Rudi!- Antonino’s joyful voice made them turn to the door while the child was running towards him. Rudi stood up, took him in his arms and started to jump around, singing.

-We’ll win, we’ll win, we are at war and we’ll win…- a cloud of white dust at the bottom of the road showed that Giovanni was coming home too in a hurry in his horse-drawn buggy.

1 Chapter III

1917

The war that according to Rudi would have been brief had been going on for the last two years , it wasn’t brief, neither easy, nor victorious. It was not anymore the exciting adventure that many people had faced with enthusiasm at first, but it was a different campaign every time, painful and hard, which was fought with unknown and deadly weapons against which you did not need to sharpen your sabres. Many young men volunteered to go to war, many others had been called back to duty and women were taking care of the work in the land, even the most strenuous ones. During the summer well before dawn you could see groups of women from the nearest village, with their heads covered up with white scarves to protect their faces from the unforgiving sun rays and they worked all day in the sun, scything the wheat and arrange the bundles in long rows.

The lunch break was a relief. When the heat in the Maremma would become unbearable, they stopped working and the break, even if it was short, was a relief. They would sit on the ground or on the sheaves, and they would eat their food which was distributed. Many of them would hide the bread in the big pockets of their aprons because in the evenings, at home, their younger children were hungry, if the other ones were slightly older and working already. Once the season ended, the fields were left so you could see groups of women and children were picking the fallen spikes of wheat off the ground with their sacks tied across their shoulders.

The more spikes, the more wheat, the more flour, the more bread.

Bread.

Bread for them and for their children and for the old people who did not work anymore.

The bread that men did not bring home because they were stuck in the Karst Plateau.

That was in in winter, once the olive harvesting was over. First they were picking from the trees for the owner then, if the owner allowed them to, they were picking olives for themselves off the ground, to get a couple of litres of the precious olive oil.

When the war broke out, Rudi joined the army, but Giovanni stayed at home. He was thirty-five and his position as the head of the family spared him from joining in the war. In the last two years the financial situation of the Barrieri family had improved indeed. The army required great quantities of horses and food and he doubled his livestock. Many pieces of land were fallow because nobody was working them so they were up for sale and Giovanni bought them without making the most of the situation because he was happy to help people if he could, he did not take advantage of people’s misfortunes. At home, in some parts of the year, when the work in the land had stopped and people did not know what to live on, there were women coming and going offering the most diverse things they could do, bringing a basket full of chicory or wild fruit as a present, hoping to get something in return.

Giulia, Maria and Ada knew those women, they knew their stories and they would always send them back home with food to eat for their dinner. Before accepting what they offered, many of them would say that they had come over in case there were some things to do but their eyes would say thank you before getting the gift in their hands because the words that went with that were not words of pity and would not demean them:

-You’ve just come at the right time, I’ve just prepared this- they said handing the packet over- Take it, please, I’ve just made too much of it and it would rot..

-Giving without humiliating- Giovanni stressed that – because humiliation is worse than poverty- The three of them had learnt that.

That morning Ada woke up with her usual headache. It would happen often and when that occurred, the best way to look after it was to stay in bed, in the darkness, in peace and quiet for a few hours until the pain would alleviate and only then she would manage to get up, still daze and pale.

Dr Marinucci, the elderly family doctor, always felt that the cause for this was her nervousness. –It’s anxiety, it is not a serious condition. Ada is a strong and healthy woman. She should have got married…-

She did not leave the house and stayed with her father and her older sister instead. She was only two years younger than Maria and she looked less resigned. Compared to her thinness, Ada’s body looked almost plump, more feminine, with her large breasts in a corset which made her waist thinner and highlighted her round hips.

She moved around the house with quite some energy which was too much at times as if she was jerking, showing an agitation out of control and some kind of permanent unhappiness. In these days she could work for hours without feeling tired, she cleaned the house from top to bottom, she washed curtains and covers, she rubbed out old stains frantically. She was extremely generous. In a burst of affection she would take the kids’ breath away when she would hold them in her arms against her soft bosom and would smother them with kisses. Antonino couldn’t stop laughing, Clara tried to escape from that torture and the little ones, Agnese e Luciano, were mesmerized, laughing and crying, not too sure if that little pain was worth putting up with.

The first of November was dull day and the sun was just a dull light behind a cloud that was slightly fairer than the others. Maria was still in bed and Ada, once over the worse part, was not sure whether to get up or not. The house was unusually quiet got her to do downstairs. Antonino and Clara were at school and you could not hear the voices of the little ones.

She got up and got dressed. The fire was already on in the kitchen to warm up the air. Giovanni was in his work clothes and was sitting with his arms resting on the table in front of the open newspaper. Giulia was sitting in front of him, she was pale. Her face which was usually stern but not worried, was furrowed by a line on her forehead showing deep concern. Her blank eyes were following a far away thought . Maria was moving about quietly, busy making something to eat for the children, who were sitting on the ground and were talking in a low voice, feeling the worry in the room. Ada, stood at the door, and felt that unusual atmosphere.

-What happened?-

-How are you, Ada, are you feeling better?- Giulia asked, fighting hard to come out of her thoughts.

-Yes, I am feeling better. What happened?-

- ….things are not looking so good….- said Giovanni

-Which things….-.

-The war…. The news about the war is not good…. Rudi wrote a letter…-

-Rudi?...what does he say…? Where did he write from…? how is he…?- Ada rested her hands clenched in a fist on her stomach and her voice was now panicky.

-He wrote from the warzone-, Giulia answered, thinking now about the current situation and looked as if she was in control again –He says he has fought in Caporetto and now he is at a field hospital….at least up until ten days ago when the letter was written…here, read it..-

Ada took the pieces of papers in her hands and saw that Rudi’s handwriting, usually with big characters, looked unsteady and crooked. She started to read silently, quickly:

‘ Dear Giulia and dear all,

As you can see I am able to write so please don’t worry about me.

I am at a field hospital ….because during an operation my shoulder was injured, luckily it is not serious. What I experienced with my fellow soldiers over the last few months is virtually nothing compared to what has happened over the last few days. I hope you have received my previous letters. If so, you are aware of the situation we have endured for months: the barricades are our home, these dugouts where mud gets as far as your knees, and you can only get out of them to go and fight the enemy who is not too far from you. It is cold in there, very cold. I can say it to you: I am scared. I am scared when I can get some sleep for a little while and I am woken up by the blast of the bombs nearby, I am scared when we have to advance and my riflemen look at me with their ashen eyes, without expression, almost indifferent to their destinies, fear when Tornieri, my fellow soldier, collapses beside me with his stomach opened up and you can see inside and begs me to help him, not with the words because he has no more, but with his eyes. I look at him crying, he knows there is nothing I can do to help him and I have to leave him there because we have to go. So I go but I can’t see anything because of the tears in my eyes and I pray, for a quick moment, I pray for Tornieri, whom I was talking to just a moment before, to die quickly. I pray for his death, he is so young and far away from his home which I got to know thanks to what he recounted, without anybody around him. No, no, it does not have to be like this! I turn back then just in time to hold his hand, soiled with mud and blood. He looks as if he is smiling at me and he passes away near me without even a sob: just a little sigh and he is gone forever.

I am scared because I don’t know what tomorrow would be like and I am horrifies that it is going to be like today, or even worse.

On the night of October 24^th, we are in the barricade on Livek gap, waiting for the enemies to attack. It is the middle of the night, it is raining heavily and there is a thick fog everywhere. Around two in the morning there is the first blast, and then it goes on for hours on end. The cannons are fired so often that at dawn the land is covered in deep holes which were so near one another that the soldiers jump into them to get some shelter during their advance. They are given the order to defend the post and that’s what has to be done, whereas the holes they jump into to get some shelter are full of dead bodies and men all deformed in the attempt to breath, due to gas asphyxiation.

The night never ends. We advance for a few metres and when the position seems to be consolidated, here come the enemies, ready for an attack. I gather up my men, there are so few of them that I think it is pointless to resist, yet we just fight, we just keep at it without thinking, then we withdraw again, and again on the dead bodies of our fellow soldiers. All of a sudden I cannot remember anything about this living hell, apart from a sensation of heat that runs from my shoulder down to my arm and an almost pleasant vertigo that doesn’t make me hear the blasts and feel the fear.

I was in hospital then when I was informed about what happened to our army and I heard about this withdrawal that neutralized our long-standing efforts.

I am feeling better and you are not to worry about me.

This war now does not even scare me anymore. This defeat has made me aware that now, after so much suffering, we need to fight harder for our country not to neutralize the sacrifices made by many fellow soldiers. I hope it finishes soon so that I can come back to you all, but I have to do my full duty first.

Give the kids a kiss from me. A hug to you all.

Your Rudi.’

Maria raised her eyes from the letter and looked at Giovanni in dismay.

-Is Rudi injured? …Are we losing the war?-

They were getting the news only from the newspaper that Giovanni would buy when there was something particularly important, and that day all over the front page there were public announcements about the retreat of our army and about general Cadorna being replaced by Diaz for the High Command .

-I think so- he answered, looking worried- Things are worse that we would have expected.

Those words were said at last and were taken in in silence, as if to voice what everybody thought. Now every daily chore felt like a burden to carry and a relief at the same time, a way to get going and shake off that sense of oppression caused by endless hours.

1 Chapter IV

Agnese and Luciano

The twins, that was how they were called by the family, had turned five. To everyone they were ‘the twins’, not just because they were twins, but because they were connected by a knot that did not untie when they were born.

-The twins didn’t eat- the twins have a temperature- check where the twins are…- nobody ever called them by their names. The age difference with the older brothers had turned them into a little world of its own. Especially when the older siblings started going to school, they would be all day together, complementing each other so much that at times they would isolate themselves and people would forget about them. They would rarely argue and it was difficult that they would quarrel over swapping toys or roles that they were taking up.

-You do this- No, you do it- That’s fine, I’ll do it-

Or

-I play with this now…. And I’ll play with this, then we swap…- They would have accepted any compromise in order to be with each other. That wasn’t because they did not have any other friend, considering that they lived a little bit further out in the small town. The farmers would often bring their children with them and even thought they were a little shy, they would be in the house with them, but above all because the two of them would easily communicate, even without using words, without too many explanations. It was all quite simple.

Agnese was the chubbier of the two of them. She had been that way since their birth and growing up she would keep her build. She was a cheerful but not boisterous little girl, her big dark eyes would brighten up when she smiled, almost hidden by her chubby cheeks if she was laughing whole-heartedly. She loved to play not so much with her doll but with the doll that used to be Clara’s, because it belonged to her older sister who had given it up without regretting it. For her birthday her father brought back her a pram from the town fair, the image of her own pram when she was smaller. Now mum was looking after her baby girl taking her out for a walk in the porch, wrapped up in a little yellow quilt that auntie Maria had made for her. While she was walking around, she felt that everything was perfect: a home, a mum, a baby and daddy that was waiting for them.

Luciano was always daddy. He would ride back home on his wooden horse, to eat at a table where dainties made with mud, small stones and little pieces of paper were served, to say that everything tasted so good and to go back to work, on horseback, trotting or at a gallop according to the situation. A role that turned out to be rather marginal in the daily running of their house, where the most demanding tasks were carried out by the house mistress. While she was cleaning, cooking, going for walks, he had some free time to fill in, so he would say -What can I do now?- he asked.- -You work the land- and he would start digging lightly with a stick. After a little while, the farmer would get bored and would go back home saying that it was time to draw. So straight away they would drop the kitchen with the pots on the fire and the poor doll was left on her own in the middle of the porch.

The time they spent doing their drawings would fly by, especially for him. While they were at it, it was Agnese’s turn to ask –What now?- Without raising his eyes off the paper, lying down on the ground or kneeling down on a chair which was too low near the table, Luciano would give her some instructions and some advice.

He was a tall child, quite thin, and was told to look like his auntie Maria. His build was exactly the opposite of his sister’s and his dark and straight hair was cut quite short at the back of his head, he had some sort of a lock in the front that would stick up on top of his head and fall down onto his forehead. His face was not as cheerful as his sister’s. He did not have a frown but he always looked very interested in everything that was around him and his own way to understand what was going on keeping a distant attitude. There were times whereby he seemed to be totally dependent on Agnese, and other times when the little one would rely on her brother, and this naturally well-balanced relationship made them both confident and for their age, quite independent.

There was also another child they could often play with, Andrea, Lucia’s son.

Lucia was a young woman who the Barrieri family knew so well. She was just over her twenties but she started working in their farm at the age of six or seven with her father. Her mother died when she was giving birth so father and daughter have been both orphans since then, lost in a world that had not been very kind to them and did not look too promising for the future either. Lucia had not really been reared in her own home but in the neighbours’ who looked after her in turns, feeling sorry for her living conditions of extreme poverty and neglect. Her father was a good man, simple, a hard-working man, born in a world where working hard could just guarantee to make ends meet. He would get up at dawn and come back home when the sun had gone down; in the evening he could not do all the tasks usually carried out by a wife who wasn’t actually there. Their home was on the ground floor, there was a long corridor that was getting some light only from the front door and the double bed was at the bottom, a curtain would separate it from the rest. Winter nights were very long and cold and the fireplace was often off. When darkness fell, rather than lighting up a candle, they would go to bed, so their meal was just one and they would feel the hunger in the morning. The mattress was made with dry leaves which would creak every time they moved about in the bed. Lucia’s little body, wrapped around her father’s, was still, crushed under the heavy cover and there she would feel finally at home. As soon as she was old enough, she went to the land with him. She never went to school and nobody ever came looking for her. The Barrieri family was the first family she worked for and she stayed with them ever since, growing in the fields year after year.

The first time she went into the big house she was about five. She was due to get the water to bring to the men who were working nearby. She had always seen that house from outside, it was a two-storey house, with the curtains at the windows and the big front door. It looked like a castle to her. There was not anything as beautiful in the small town. She was a bit scared getting near it, holding the jug covered with broomcorn to keep the water cool. She was still, not too sure whether to push the half-closed door open or bang that big iron ring which ended with the head of a lion. A tall and austere woman came out of the semi-darkness of the corridor and saw her right in front of her after opening the door wide.

-What are you doing here?-

The woman bent forward to her, she put a hand on her head. She was smiling and from a close distance her face was not as stern as it appeared earlier on. Lucia’s heart was throbbing like a crazy horse up until a little while before, but she calmed herself down a little at that touch. She held out the jug keeping her eyes down, and she managed to say:

-Here is the water…-

Maria felt a surge of tenderness looking at that scared little thing.

-What’s your name?-

-Lucia…- she kept her head down and her words were almost whispered

-Come in- she told her while she was pushing her gently in the hallway

-Lucia and?-

The little girl was silent.

-What is your mummy’s name?- The little girl still kept her head down and did not answer. Maria was taking her to the kitchen keeping her hand on her shoulder. She could feel all her bones through her apron

-What about your daddy, what is your daddy’s name?-

-Adolfo...-

She realised that she was the daughter of that man named Adolfo who had lost his wife too soon and that that little girl had only experienced poverty and loneliness growing up.

She filled the jug with water.

-Are you sure that you can carry it? It’s heavy…-

-Yes…yes…-her voice could hardly be heard

-Would you like to eat an apple?-

Almost touching her chest with her chin, the little girl shook her head.

-Put it in your pocket then, you can eat it later- so she slipped it into the pocket of her long apron.

-Take two indeed, you can give one to whoever you want-

She took her to the door and she saw her go away nearly running, as if she was free from a burden, despite the jug resting on her hip.

Everything had been so new and exciting that day that Lucia did not even looked at the kitchen she had gone into. As soon as she was on her own, the blood started to throb in her veins quickly and her face got some colour while a feeling of joy would take over her. While she was running, she felt the two apples banging against her legs and she was holding on to them with her free hand in order not to lose them. She got home out of breath, she left the jug near her father without saying a word and she stepped away. She took one apple, she rubbed it with her sleeve to make it glossy and precious and she started to eat it with small bites as if it was Paris’s golden apple.

After that day, Lucia herself would offer to do small jobs around the big house and little by little she started to look up when people were talking to her. Later on the Barrieri family themselves would call her if they needed some help.

Then she got married and she had Andrea. Everything could be different. However the war, on the first year right away, after getting a postcard that Giulia read for her, took that hope away from her forever. She was on her own again, working to make a living, for herself and that child that would keep her close to life. The Barrieri family would treat Andrea always with affection. While his mum was working in the house or in the fields, the child was often in their house and would enjoy his afternoon snack with the twins, consisting of big slices of bread with jam.

1 Chapter V

Antonino and Clara

Despite the pregnancies, Giulia did not put on weight and her tiny and well-shaped body, which was still young-looking, with an increased maturity and gracefulness in her ways which would make her more beautiful to Giovanni’s eyes. What he loved most about her, apart from her appearance, was her mannerism and her words, almost a dignity that was never tedious or detached but a natural ability to fully understand the situations and know exactly when it was okay to speak or be quiet. They were the qualities that he had first picked up off her which now that he knew her better, they would make her extra special. He trusted her judgement and in the evening, when at last they were on their own in their bedroom, he would talk for a long time about the work he did during the day, she would listen carefully to him and Giovanni was grateful to be able to share a burden. Giulia had a secret part that was hidden deep down and would show up only through some of her deep and distant looks that would look away with a sudden flash from something she couldn’t really see, as if just for a few seconds she had picked thoughts from a remote and intimate place which were impossible to explain to other people. At first that imperceptible startle almost frightened Giovanni, then he was jealous of it because he realised that he could not access a place buried deep down her soul, which was distant and unattainable. He had stopped asking ‘What are you thinking about?’ waiting for that startle to go as suddenly as it had come about, something he felt painfully left out from, it was a brief moment of loneliness fully compensated by the way Giulia would be right after that.

That side to her personality that would have been so prone to anxiety, had been fixed up by Giovanni’s vitality and liveliness. In those times when the love a wife had for her husband showed in the dedication and obedience to a man, Giulia felt for him a very strong physical attraction which let her discover the juvenile and repressed passionate nature of her body. At the beginning of their engagement, when she saw him coming from a distance, she felt her legs shaking nervously and she was trying very hard to keep herself under control, leaving her speechless. She almost felt uneasy thinking about him, being aware that this new feeling was out of her control and would make her more fragile. After the wedding, their nights together were soon free of all embarrassment. Happy to enjoy each other without reserve, they would keep an unconfessed secret from the family during the day, hidden behind the stern expression of her face and slightly more visible in Giovanni’s gestures and looks.

Giulia was aware that Clara had taken after her a lot, she could sense those thoughts that she managed to keep under control since she was younger. She could sense them running wild deep down her as a teenager who was finding it difficult to restrain them and would confine herself in an inexplicable, almost hostile silence. When she realised that Clara favoured her father, she was relieved because she had tacitly empowered him to keep an intimate contact with their daughter’s soul, keeping for herself the place of a careful observer. This was secretly acknowledged and shared by Giovanni, even if it had never rationally come up, and it was a great joy, because along with him Clara was able to let herself go to childish games without feeling the need to hide from him those anxieties that he had learnt to understand and respect in Giulia. His closeness was a relief to Clara’s anxieties, she did not feel as if someone was watching her like with her mother, nor partially misunderstood like with her aunties. It could only be Clara, in the simplicity of her moments of silence and the depth of her thoughts.

Antonino’s calmness was indeed Giulia’s happiness. He was sociable and loving, letting all the maternal instinct out of the women of the family. It was easy to coddle and kiss him till he could not breathe anymore. He would not run away from the arms which were holding him and he would laugh like Clara only when she was playing with her daddy. Giulia would leave everything she was doing for Antonino, every hidden thought which would have upset the tranquillity of those moments spent together. She would watch him play with his sister and she felt he was no longer weaker, but peacefully aware of her sister’s greater strength, happy enough about his role. She loved him so much for this, and she would go near him for a quick pet which would make Clara suspicious; however, he would reciprocate her with a grateful look.

Growing up, Antonino kept the calmness that he had always distinguished him and showed a deep love for the country life.

He had always been a helpful boy. During the summer holidays and during the days off he helped in the land. He would get up early, before dawn, happy enough to share the first few moments of quietness in the house with his father, almost looking for an undisturbed complicity. When he was still a young boy, he was interested in the land and in the turns of the cattle to be brought to the fields. Growing up he stopped playing with Clara who was more and more often in her bedroom to read, reluctant to do that housework that her aunties had tried in vain to teach her.