This reminds me of a sobering experience I had in Rome in 1966 while
photographing on the outskirts of one of the city's poorer quarters. A
man approached me and asked where I was from. When I responded, he
broke into a smile and repeated to me the few words he had learned in
English following the liberation of the city 22 years before and whose
meaning he had surely forgotten: "Hey, Joe," he said to me, smiling as
if to assure my approval, "do you want to buy my sister?" As I stood
there shuddering, waiting for him to stop, wanting to be anyplace but
there, he uttered a few more questions of a similar nature. When he
finally finished I forced a smile, said goodbye, and tried,
unsuccessfully, to enjoy what was left of the afternoon. It wasn't, of
course, that I was unaware of what happened when the Yanks came in, I
just wasn't prepared to experience it so graphically.
For a vivid description of that period, I recommend Skin, by Curzio
Malaparte.
Jeffrey Blankfort
> Date: Thu Jun 22 12:56:44 2000
> From: Sorrento95@AOL.COM
> Subject: [sixties-l] WW II, Vietnam, & War Crime
SNIP
>
> To make the point, I'll tell a story about my
> father, a warrant officer and radio specialist
> in the 753rd Tank Battalion, which participated
> in the invasion of Sicily, the Anzio campaign,
> and the invasion of southern France. Amidst
> the confusion, when Allied planes were strafing
> their own positions, he recalls grabbing
> a shovel and digging in for dear life on the
> Sicilian beach.
>
> Sicilian "mafiosi," who had earlier been
> driven underground by the Mussolini government,
> assisted the Allied commanders in their
> successful effort to drive the Germans off
> of the island.
>
> Later while in southern Italy my father had
> the opportunity to visit the small village of
> Corleto Monforte, province of Salerno, where
> my mother's parents were born. He took
> photos of her aunt and uncle and cousins.
>
> Thirty-four years after his visit I made
> a trip to Corleto, and took these photos
> with me. I showed them to an old gent
> from Corleto whom I met on the bus en route
> to the village. His name was Giuseppe
> Aurecchio, and he was delighted to know
> that my father had been a GI, and recognized
> every individual in the old photos.
>
> I also met an old gent named Vito Bambino,
> my grandfather's cousin. Later I obtained
> a rental car for driving back to Battipaglia,
> the nearest town with a train station. On
> the way out of the village, I saw old Vito,
> and he waved at me. I stopped to say good-bye,
> but he wanted me to delay my departure and
> have a drink with him. The reason? He
> had learned that my father had been a GI
> in Italy, and wanted to commemorate it.
>
> You think the Italian peasants saw the GIs
> as war criminals? Ask Vito! Ask Giuseppe
> Aurecchio !
>
>
> ~~ Michael Wright
> Norman, Oklahoma
>
>
>
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