A blog from World War 2

January 27, 1945

Today I met with Tommasino, son of Vincenzo Ceraldi from S. Ruosi. He tells me he’s trying to find a way to sneak back to Italy. We agreed to meet on Saturday and go to this place to see if I can flee too. I can’t wait until this damned war is over, this inhumane separation. And so begins the seventeenth month of my detention, my absence, my slavery, and it seems it will never end. Yesterday I also met with Pasquale Marrese, he also received a letter from his wife postmarked November. I myself read the few words from his wife, who assures him that all of the families of his fellow townsmen, his brothers of misfortune, are well. But I’ve yet to receive a letter from my wife, almost all of the men from Casale have except for me, perhaps it’s because I’ve been living independently and my letters haven’t reached me like the letters addressed to the lagers where all the men from Casale live. Damn them for making me live independently, perhaps if they’d sent me to live in the lager with my fellow townsmen, I too would’ve received mail from my darling Carmosina, I’d give up sleeping comfortably for some news from her. I hope the end is near so I can return home. I hope that God has kept my darling wife and children healthy.

No comments yet.

Leave a comment

Add this diary to your
Social Bookmarks:
Share it!

This work is licensed under Creative Commons BY-NC-ND