A CHILD AL CONFINO by Eric Lamet

Author:Eric Lamet
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: epub, ebook
Publisher: Adams Media, a division of F+W Media, Inc.
Published: 2011-06-12T16:00:00+00:00

16

Pietro Russo and Ettore Costa

The names of North African towns — Tobruk, Tripoli, Bengazi — were on every internee's lips. Was it Feldmarschall Rommel or was it General Montgomery who had struck a big blow the day before? It was impossible to ever get the truth from the state radio. If we were to believe what we had been told by the Italian newscasts, then British forces already had been annihilated and the only men left in that army were a few old cooks. I noticed Mother had become more vigilant when listening to the BBC. She confided that she was afraid Filomena would tell her husband and that it would turn into a major disaster.

Each morning, as my mother approached our gathering point in the piazza, the first question from the internees was, “So, hear anything new?”

“You will get me in trouble if you don't stop asking that question out loud,” Mamma complained. “I am afraid someone will overhear you and that will be it.”

Mr. Perutz, huffing and puffing, his weak legs straining to carry his portly body, was rushing up the incline to join the group at the regular meeting spot. Out of breath, he called for our attention. “Heard the latest? They bombed La Valletta again.” He was referring to the capital of the tiny island of Malta. The island belonged to Great Britain and Axis planes bombed the island every single day.

“I don't understand something,” Ettore said. “If, as they tell us, they have bombed Malta every day and I know the Fascist radio wouldn't lie to us, there can't be anything left standing. Then what are they still bombing? As a good Italian, I am indignant. They are wasting my money. I must write to Mussolini.”

Mr. Perutz had more to report. Evidently he must have listened to the BBC. “The best news is that a large convoy of Italian tankers docked in Tripoli, but instead of petrol, the tanks were filled with salt water.” As soon as that bit of news seeped in, everyone broke out in a guarded outburst of joy. “Can you imagine what this will do to Rommel? He needs this fuel to continue his North African campaign.”

Pierce pointed his finger at Mr. Perutz. “The day will come when you will wish you had been on the right side.”

“We are on the right side,” Mamma said.

“You keep believing in your Duce,” Perutz said. “We'll see who will have wished for what.”

Now it was my mother's turn. “Signor Pierce, I cannot understand something. If you're such a great supporter of Fascism and Mussolini, how come you're here with us?”

Pierce waived both arms in the air while his face contracted in an ugly smirk. “Bureaucracy, bureaucracy. Just a simple bureaucratic error. And small errors will have to wait. I don't expect the people in Rome to find the time now to examine my case.”

“Signor Pierce, you are a lost cause,” Mother said.

On another morning, arriving at the corner earlier than usual, Ettore Costa was waiting for everyone to gather before divulging the rumor he himself had concocted.

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