Tonight Paolo Schumann came to visit me. He now lives in a small city called Landshut, 70 kilometers outside of Munich. We had a beer together. He practically assured me that the war should be over this month, but I doubt it. I said to him: “It should be over but your fellow Germans are too thickheaded!”

I’m tired of working, I don’t feel well. This morning I asked my boss if I could have a permit to go see a doctor, he wouldn’t give it to me, he said I have to work. I asked him again later, so he sent his sidekick, a man worthy of him who we nicknamed “scarecrow”, to the nuns where I live and asked them if I drank my coffee this morning. The nuns replied yes, so he came to the machine I was working at and said: “You drank your coffee this morning, you’re not sick, so work.” I worked until night and went to the doctor without a permit. For now I was able to get 8 days of sick leave, then I’ll see what else can be done. Yesterday the siren went off once, every day the pre-raid siren goes off 4 or 5 times, I believe the beginning of the end is near!

Today we worked like we do every day, and like every other day we ate potatoes with no seasoning, hardly even any salt. Even on Easter we ate potatoes at noon and at night, without any seasoning.

Food has become a serious issue: there’s no bread at the black market, and if you manage to find a kilo, it costs 40 Marks which is more than a week’s pay. A cigarette costs 5 Marks and some even demand 6 Marks. Our cigarette ration card allows for 2 cigarettes a day, smokers who want to more than that have to sell their shoes because with a week’s pay they can only buy enough cigarette for half a day (8 cigarettes). 100 grams of meat costs 20 Marks and it’s not easy to find. Agostino and Ciccillo are tightening their belts more than ever. Where I live, the food isn’t bad but it’s getting progressively worse. I also discovered what nuns are like in Germany: they dress in black and white but are nothing but whited sepulchers. These nuns who run the place where we live (about 40 foreigners and some Germans too), take our monthly food ration cards which aren’t good for much but at least they’re good for butter, lard, eggs, white bread, etc. They eat all of this and feed us nothing but carrots and potatoes all the time. Not to mention the way they behave, these nuns. I can no longer stand eating this garbage, I can’t take it, I can’t bear to swallow another disgusting potato. It’s been 550 days since they brought me to Germany and made me eat potatoes thousands of times. It takes a strong stomach to live in Germany! If I ever have the joy of going home, I will never forget this!

This is the second Easter I’ve spent on German soil, the second Easter my dear wife and kids are forced to celebrate without me! These holidays are nothing but a blow to my heart, I’d rather they never come. I wonder what sort of bleak Easter my poor wife had without me. She’s been living without me for 18 months, without me for 2 Christmases and 2 Easters, unable to celebrate these days as we once did together, instead she probably cried and cursed those cowards who tore me from my home. Will this war ever end? Do they really want to destroy everything and kill us all? Do they not want to grant me the great joy of embracing my dear wife and children?!

Today around noon, while we were working in the usual factory, the siren went off. It ended in an hour, without any damage. We hadn’t heard any pre-raid sirens or sirens in a few weeks, we thought perhaps there had been a summit to end this damn war but sadly that isn’t the case, it’s still going on!

It’s very cloudy and it’s raining too. Up until Palm Sunday the weather was nice and warm, it hadn’t even been this warm last summer. But since Holy Monday, it’s been drizzling. I’m feeling better now, that angst I was plagued with until yesterday has now subsided. The news from my wife that they are all well, the news that I’ve awaited for 18 months arrived and was the best medicine for my heart which is tormented by such a cruel separation from my loved ones. But deep down, my heart is still sad, still anxious and it will be until I have the great joy of embracing my dear wife and children.

I didn’t sleep much last night, I kept waking up. Every time I woke up, I shed some tears and had a knot in my throat. I kept picturing my wife and my dear children. I kept remembering, as if it were yesterday, the summer of 1943, before the Germans dragged me away from my wife, when we would hear American planes overhead my wife would get scared despite my reassurance, which was never lacking, yet I was never able to convince her to not be afraid. Imagine what she had to endure alone after, without me, with 2 children, one of which wasn’t even 10 months old. I was there yet the sound of the planes alone truly scared her. What happened to her when the front arrived, when they neared our area?! How much suffering did she have to endure? Where did she take refuge with our children? How did she bear such agony? Not to mention she had no news from her dear husband, not knowing if he was dead or alive! Oh, damn this war and those who caused it, what pain and suffering!

Tonight, when I got home from work there was finally a letter waiting for me. I picked it up and noticed my handwriting on the envelope. I was confused, I didn’t stop to think that it could’ve been from one of the many letters I sent with return envelopes through the Red Cross of Vienna. Someone said to me: “You wrote to a friend but accidentally wrote your address instead of his”. I could not believe it! I open the letter and see a Red Cross form, I immediately realize it’s a letter from home. I read the few words written by my wife’s hand. I can’t help but cry, to think it’s been 18 months since I’ve seen Carmosina and my darling children who have been without my guidance, sustenance, and help. 18 months without news from them. Who knew I would have to suffer this much?!

After a year and a half of unbearable solitude, with no news from the people I love more than life itself, I finally got a letter. I’m glad my wife assures me they are all well, but in my heart there will be no happiness until I am able to embrace my dear wife and our darling children. If that blessed day comes, then I will be happy and joyful!

I hope to God that long-awaited day isn’t far away and that He will grant me this joy, which is the only hope that allows me to bear these sacrifices, this inhumane treatment.

At 11:50 the siren goes off. They send us to the factory’s basement, even a rudimentary bomb would make this place collapse. But they won’t let us out, we’re worse off than slaves, whereas workers from other factories are allowed to go wherever they please. I took advantage of the fact that nobody was watching me and I snuck out, we would’ve left work at 12:15 anyway. I walked less than 300 meters when I heard the roar of aircraft engines. I stopped to look at them, they shimmered in the sun as if they were made of silver. There is no shelter nearby, the shooting begins. I see people running into a doorway so I follow them. We go down into a small basement, it’s not a good shelter but it’s safer than the factory. I went out after 30 minutes, many people were already outside, there was a fire nearby but the bombs didn’t do much damage, it was slight. Since I didn’t hear any shooting or engines, I started walking home and noticed everyone was looking up at the sky, so I did too. I saw a giant parachute descending upon the city, we stared at it for a long time, until the wind blew it away. I don’t think there was a man attached to the parachute, but rather something lightweight or else the wind would not have been able to blow it so far away and it wouldn’t have taken so long to reach the ground.

Siren.

The sun is still a shining beauty, for those who actually see it, I certainly don’t. The factory is like a cavern, I arrive in the morning and leave at night.