I went to work this morning, after these days of rest, I feel well. Tonight, Mattiussi, the Corsican, and I ate dinner together. We went to bed at around 10:00, Mattiussi lives in a guesthouse nearby, on Kreuzstrasse 34. The French man and I went to sleep in my room.

I go to work and he’s still asleep, I come home at night and we do the same thing: we eat and then go to bed.

When I got home from work tonight, the French man was not in the hotel. I eat with Mattiussi, then he goes home to sleep and I sit with the Schumanns a bit. We talk for half an hour then I go to bed, they go to bed very late because they’re afraid of the siren, which has been going off frequently this month, usually after 11:00 PM. I go into my room and open the closet and notice that some things are missing. I look near the mirror, his photograph is gone. I go down to the lobby and try to explain to the porter what has happened, I’ve learned some German but he doesn’t understand me. He calls in the Schumanns and I explain to them what happened, so they immediately check the address he wrote on the registration forms. Mrs. Schumann has her husband accompany me to the address: a hotel where he said he worked and lived. It’s 10:30 PM, the hotel manager shows me his entire staff, but he’s not there. The information he wrote down was false. Mr. Schumann makes a list of what was stolen from me to give to the porter. He stole: A new shirt, a brand new pair of yellow shoes I never even wore, a sweater, a razor with a brush and shaving cream, and a ration card for one month of cigarettes (84). Mrs. Schumann turned the hotel upside down, but there’s no trace. I ask the Florentine lady if she still has the photograph the Corsican louse gave her so I can show the police, but since she suspected he wasn’t a gentleman, she burned the photo. I ask the porter to report the theft to the police, but he says I have to go do it. I cannot go because my factory boss will not give me time off, so I decide to go to the Fascist Headquarters.

Tonight while I was sleeping, the porter came to warn me about the siren, it’s 21:50. At exactly midnight, the siren went off, we go to the shelter 600 meters from the hotel, there is snow outside. The siren stops at 1:00 and we go home.

Saturday, today is the eve of San Giuseppe’s feast day (translator’s note: San Giuseppe’s feast day is Father’s Day in Italy). As usual we left work at midday. Agostino, Ciccillo, and I bought some meat with the Marks we saved up and we go eat at the hotel where I live. While we’re eating, the siren goes off so we quickly pay and rush to the usual bunker, which is very sturdy. While we’re in the shelter, Ciccillo says, “Hope the meat we bought doesn’t end up buried in Munich”. They’re frightened because they aren’t used to air raids since they live 12 km outside of the city. But I reassure them, telling them this shelter is very sturdy. 10 minutes after we get inside, the attack begins. The ground shakes, we hear shouts that make us shudder. After a few hours, the siren has stopped, we go outside and realize a large bomb had fallen right beneath the wall of our shelter, but the shelter is unscathed, while the houses all around are demolished. Yet again, the good Lord saved us. We walk around the city but not for long because the streets are filled with rubble, even the butcher shop where we bought our meat has been destroyed and all the meat has been buried. We say goodbye and agree to meet up the next day to cook some macaroni and meat at Fasanerie-Nord. I go to the Fascist Headquarters in regards to the theft. I explain what happened to one of the workers, a man named Porri, husband of Mrs. Porri who visited me twice in the hospital. He tells me to wait for Mr. Donato Ruggero, the head Fascist, to file a report. This man arrives and I tell him what happened. He asks “Are you a registered Party member?” I reply “What does this have to do with the Party? I am an Italian”. He tells me they only assist Fascists. So I leave and will never go back again. So I decided to put an end to it, I lost my stuff but I don’t want to lose any more time over it.

San Giuseppe’s feast day. I go to Fasanerie-Nord as we had agreed yesterday. Agostino is already cooking the meat, I arrive and help them cook. While we’re cooking the macaroni, we see Massimo Desantis come in. We say hello and invite him to eat lunch with us. So on San Giuseppe’s feast day, the four of us from Casale had the pleasure of eating macaroni and meat together.

Today we go to work like we do on every Monday; Mondays are horrible in Germany! When will this be over? I wrote to my brother in Terni, to my cousins in Rome, to my brother-in-law in Pianosa, begging them all to somehow give my wife news about me.

At night we eat at the same place, myself and Mattiussi from Trieste. I ask him if there is a free room at his guesthouse because I pay a lot where I am: 16.40 a week just for the bed.

Mattiussi spoke to his landlady, there is a free room at his guesthouse.

I gave up my hotel room and went to the guesthouse on Kreuzstrasse 34/1 where Mattiussi stays, I negotiated 36 Marks a month. Our rooms are next door, in the morning whoever wakes up first, wakes the other one up.