Legacy of Sorrows Read Online Free PDF Page A

as my head hit the pillow, I was fast asleep.
    I was wakened early in the morning by the sound of shouting in the street below. I jumped out of bed and when I looked out of the attic window, my heart skipped a beat. The Germans had come back again, and were rounding up the remaining villagers into the piazza. I felt so afraid; however, I knew that if I didn’t act quickly to escape they would soon discover me up here in an attic bedroom with the only way out through the lower part of the house.
    Then I saw him again, the giant blonde soldier. He was in charge and was separating the men from the women and children. Blood rushed to my head and once more, I felt physically sick. I knew what this man was capable of - if I didn’t get away from him, I was certain I would be killed.
    I heard the outside door being kicked open and a German voice in the house shouting “ Raus, Raus! ” to Pietro and Giovanna, as he ushered them out. I heard them downstairs, searching for anyone who may be hiding in the downstairs rooms.
    I thought for a moment. How can I escape before they search here and find me? In desperation,n I opened the attic window on the opposite side of the room and looked out. I saw that the roof tiles there had a gentle slope and could quite easily be climbed onto. I pulled myself up onto the window ledge and lifted myself out onto the roof. I quickly reached behind me and pulled the window closed, then cautiously climbed up to the chimneystacks and perched between them out of sight from the soldiers below. As I huddled there, I heard the attic widow scrape open and the sound of German voices talking to each other. Eventually the window closed again.
    From my vantage point, I saw the Germans herd the women and children into the cemetery beside the church. The cemetery was of typical country design, with tall stonewalls on three sides and a padlocked metal entrance gate to the front. One soldier broke the lock off the gate with his rifle butt to allow the women in. The women were all shouting to each other as they searched for their loved ones in the crowd. The children were screaming and trying to hide. A soldier calmly set up a machine gun at the entrance to the cemetery and, once ready, he waited on the order to open fire. When the women and children saw the machine gun, their screams grew louder. Some women tried to climb up the walls to escape but were picked off by rifle fire from a group of soldiers standing close by. I closed my eyes and put my hands over my ears to try and cut out the loud chatter of the machine gun and the screams of the dying. Then there was silence, and when I opened my eyes and saw the pile of dead bodies in that small space, I felt a wet sensation spread between my legs.
    The blonde SS sergeant walked amongst the dead, stopping every so often to move a body, checking if there was anyone alive underneath it. Anyone he found still alive he shot twice in the head. His pistol shots echoed loudly in the still air. Other soldiers then came and threw the dead bodies ever higher on top of each other until they looked like some sort of macabre art form of twisted arms and legs sticking out of tortured flesh.
    Meanwhile, on the other side of the piazza, I saw the men being marched off into the woods. Amongst them were some of the boys I played football with. The contrast to the women in the cemetery was quite stark. There was not a sound from them as they walked along, as if they were resigned to their fate. I didn’t see what happened to them, but I did hear the chatter of machine guns coming from their direction and eventually the soldiers returning without them.
    About another twenty people, men and women, living on the outskirts of the village, were rounded up and escorted under gunpoint to the village church, protesting as they went. Some of them put up a struggle but they were soon subdued with a rifle butt or a shot to the head. The soldiers then took some of the boards from a