Legacy of Sorrows Read Online Free PDF

nearby fencing and nailed them to the solid oak doors of the Church with the aim of stopping anyone from escaping. Some soldiers took dry tinder and placed it around the church then set it alight. It didn’t take long for the flames to engulf the timber-framed building and I could clearly hear the sound of screaming people hammering on the doors. Soldiers stood by the entrance to prevent anyone still alive from escaping. Soon the sounds coming from the church were no more. An eerie silence hung over the village, broken only by the crackling noise of burning wood and the smell of death.
    The Sergeant then stood back, surveying his handiwork. He looked up at the clear blue sky and watched the smoke from the fire drift lazily upwards, carried along by the slight breeze.
    Gripped once again with sheer terror, I clung desperately to the chimneystacks around me, afraid that the soldiers would hear the sound of my heartbeat, or the staccato noise of my breathing. I was so frightened that my bladder gave way once again and a small trickle of urine flowed slowly down the tiles in front of me. I clung tightly to the chimneys as if my life depended on it. My hands were bleeding and lacerated as the rough brickwork tore them.
    The tedeschi were killing everyone they could find. They were exterminating Italian lives as easily as if they were killing a chicken for supper.
    I stayed up there on the roof until I was convinced the soldiers had left before I climbed back into the house through the attic window. I sat on the bed and sobbed. I shouted out aloud, ‘Why God, why have you allowed this to happen? These were all good people who didn’t deserve to die!’ Of course, God didn’t answer, but to the mind of a thirteen-year-old boy, he should have had.
    I reasoned that I couldn’t stay on this mountain any longer and that I should leave immediately. There wasn’t much point in trying to seek out my other relatives and friends because if they weren’t already dead, they soon would be. I thought of Bologna. It was only ten miles away, and I could easily walk that in an afternoon. Perhaps I could find shelter there with some charity or even find some work in a restaurant. I would take with me any food and clothing I could from the house and, if I was lucky, even find some money. My mind was beginning to switch off from the horrors I had witnessed over the last few days. Perhaps it was a coping mechanism I was developing, but I knew I had to leave as soon as possible before the Germans returned. I walked slowly downstairs, not sure of what awaited me there, but to my relief the house was empty. I looked around the kitchen then took a bag and loaded it with food from the larder. I opened a drawer in the downstairs bedroom and took some clothing from it. A pair of trousers, a pullover and a shirt that belonged to Pietro. I didn’t care if they fitted or not, they were clean. I found some money in a jar on the kitchen table. Giovanna probably used it to pay for the household items she needed on a daily basis. I counted it before putting the notes carefully in my pocket. It was enough to buy me food for a few more days.
    I then noticed a shotgun that Pietro used for hunting boars sitting in a corner by the outside door. I picked it up and checked it for cartridges. I already knew how to use a shotgun with some accuracy. My father had taken us hunting in the woods every Sunday before lunch, and he had made sure that all of us were familiar with the weapon. I also found a box of cartridges in a sideboard drawer, and I put those in my bag as wll.
    When I was ready, I left the house and headed warily down the street in the direction of Bologna. I kept my eyes firmly fixed ahead, as I didn’t want to look to the left or right in case I saw the dead bodies of the villagers lying there, and perhaps recognise some of them. The stench of death was in the air, and the smell of burning flesh that filled my nostrils made