Here’s another of my dad’s World War II memories:
What sticks in my mind most about the town of Caltanissetta was a little boy named Geno and his older sister Maria. They were about eleven and thirteen years old and lived with their mother in a bombed out building across the courtyard from our makeshift quarters.
Each evening, Geno and Maria would appear on an opening in the building about three stories up and sing Italian songs to us soldiers who would gather in the courtyard to enjoy their beautiful voices. I can still hear those lovely Italian songs after these many years, and I often wonder if they ever had a chance to entertain others as they had us, in that little bombed out town of Caltanissetta.
Even with the horrors happening all around them, Geno and Maria found a way to keep beauty in the world. They transcended the fact that they lost their home and the world was literally crumbling around them. With their singing, Geno and Maria reached deeply into the allied soldiers’ souls and gave them a memory that would last the rest of their lives.
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