At exactly 12:00 noon, the siren went off. We ran into the basement of the factory, we’re all afraid because we cannot go to a shelter, we’re forced to stay in this damned factory which has already been hit twice, luckily it happened at night. At 1:30 the siren stopped and we went to eat that famous soup and potatoes without a pinch of seasoning, and they even taste like smoke. The recent bombings have really frightened us so we often go to bed late out of fear of the siren, the warning siren howls constantly and we’re always on guard. We’re obliged and sacrificed when we’re in this infamous factory because we’re not allowed to go to a shelter; but luckily this isn’t the case at night, even though with the recent bombings, no shelter is safe but it’s still better to go to a more secure shelter. Let’s hope this catastrophe ends once and for all. When will the day come when I can embrace my darling Carmosina and my dear children?! Will the good Lord grant me this joy?! I hope this joyous day comes soon and that the Lord will keep me and my loved ones healthy, and keep me safe from all the dangers that surround me!

Today we four Italians stayed home to work again, we do what we can to get by, we’ve each set up our own lair like foxes. We can still consider ourselves fortunate compared to the men in the lagers, I’ve heard horrible things from Agostino and Ciccillo who’ve lived in the infamous lagers for 16 months. They can’t even satiate themselves with unpeeled potatoes, they can’t be at ease while sleeping, they’ve even been whipped. Yesterday they told me that a policeman went into the women’s sleeping quarters while they were in bed, he pulled the covers off of two Italian girls and whipped their bare skin! German civility! Yet some people still call them our comrades! Mentally deranged fools!!

Today, the temperature felt like October. The snow on the ground, which until yesterday was as dry as sand, has begun to melt.

The temperature is freezing again. The siren goes off at 11:30, but luckily it ended soon with no mishaps.

The siren went off again at noon. It was over by 1:30, thank God they did not attack Munich this time. It’s so odd; as soon as people hear the siren they run like crazy to a shelter while we’re forced to stay in the factory. God help us! Today I took a stroll around the city. It’s overwhelming to see such a big city reduced to this state. There isn’t a street that isn’t full of rubble, there are hardly any buildings intact. You can walk down streets, look to the right and left and everything’s collapsed, razed, demolished down to the foundations, it’s horrifying, and yet they still have not stopped attacking, apparently they want to destroy all the living beings too. They’ve destroyed everything already, what more do they want- the demise of each individual person?! Let’s hope God is fed up with this destruction, this agony, and decides to put an end to this catastrophic story so that every father, every son, every husband can go back to his loved ones.

Today I ran into Paolo Maina at the black market. I often go to said market because it’s the only place where one can see fellow townsmen, plus one can buy anything but at staggering prices. For example: one cigarette costs 3 Marks which is half a day’s pay; a pack of regular Italian tobacco costs 40 Marks, 400 Italian lira; a hectogram of butter costs 20 Marks; one kilo of white bread costs 30 Marks. Not to mention the cost of clothing: a pair of socks costs 40 Marks. Paolo Maina is in bad shape, he’s not a civilian like us, he’s an internee who has absolutely nothing. I couldn’t even give him any clothing because thanks to the air raids, this is the second time I’ve lost my belongings, which I paid dearly for. I was sorry I couldn’t give him anything but all I have left are the bare essentials. I gave him a ration card for a kilo of bread because he’s in need of that too.

All day today I felt a horrible sense of anguish, I’ve never felt anything like this since I’ve been in Germany, in this damned country. May God protect me from a family misfortune.

Today is the feast day of our patron saint, St. Paul. I wonder if they will celebrate this joyous day that we’ve celebrated for years? Perhaps they will celebrate it but only superficially because their hearts are full of pain, not joy. The sadness of hearts that have been waiting for their loved one for 17 months and hope to see the happy day of his return.

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.

The temperature today felt like April. After a month of continuous snow, the sun, the glorious sun, made its first appearance. The snow in the streets and on the houses has begun to melt. We walk through half a meter of melted snow in the streets, one would need iron boots to keep his feet dry. Last year they always shoveled the snow quickly so there was no slush. But this year they haven’t shoveled, since the city is reduced to such a sorry state there’s no time to worry about shoveling or people not being able to walk, they can barely clear the streets of rubble, what horrifying chaos. When we got home, our dormitory was full of water, it was like a pool. We spent the whole night moving our mattresses around from one place to the next because the snow on top of our home without a roof, is slowly melting and constantly dripping into our room, onto our mattresses.