Return to Anzio

That Renita spoke English so well had surprised Mike, but she explained.

"One of the teachers at my school was a nun who had gone to America to teach in a school in New York City. While she was there, she learned to speak English. When she came back to teach in Italy, she asked my class if any of us would like to learn English.

"My father said there were so many American soldiers who fought in the first war and they had so much that America would soon become the most powerful country in the world. He had learned a little English by working with Americans during the first war, and he wanted to learn more. I told Sister Maria that I would like to know English. I stayed after school for an hour each day and she taught a few of us to speak English. When I came home, my father and I would speak English so we could both practice."

}{

As the days wore on, Mike became more and more irritated by his seclusion from the rest of the world. He had joined to fight, but he was basically a prisoner of war now, even though his prison guard was pretty nice. Renita sometimes brought him news of the war but it was sketchy. The beachhead at Anzio was still intact and ships had been seen landing more troops as well as tanks and artillery. The Germans had made several counterattacks but hadn't been able to gain back any territory.

Mike was determined to rejoin the fight as soon as he could. To that end, he developed a routine designed to keep him in fighting shape. All through his training, he'd hated the physical fitness exercises. After Morocco, he'd understood the reason for them. Now, every day, he did pushups and situps while in the woodpile, and before bed, did more exercises. It helped pass the time and kept him from getting soft.

It was the end of May when Mike heard the sounds of artillery in the distance. He knew from other battles the sound could only come from American 105's. The Allies were once again on the attack. That night, Renita brought him news that gave Mike hope he could soon rejoin the Allied forces.

"The Americans have moved toward Cisterna and have made the Germans leave the city. I have heard that they are also moving toward Rome."

Two days later, Mike was watching through a gap in the logs and saw the first US soldiers walking in single file past the house. He was seriously thinking of opening the door to the cellar and then running out to meet them when Renita opened the door.

"They are here, the Americans are here! Come out, come out!"

By nightfall, Mike was in a field hospital behind the advancing Allied line and being checked out by a doctor. When the doctor finished, he smiled.

"Somebody took good care of you, Sergeant Ryan. You're a little lighter than before, but you're in damned good shape. I'm giving you a week off to recover and then sending you back approved for duty."

}{

The Ranger battalions had lost so many men at the Battle of Cisterna there was no practical way to reconstitute them, so Mike was assigned to the 1st Special Service Force, a combined force of American and Canadian soldiers especially trained for commando operations known by the Germans as "The Devil's Brigade". He missed the fall of Rome by three days because it took that long for the Army to find his paperwork.

From Italy, the 1st SSF attacked and captured two islands off the coast of Southern France. On December 5, 1944 the 1st SSF was disbanded, and Mike spent the rest of the war in the 474th Infantry doing occupation duty in Norway.

}{

When the war ended and Mike got back to the US, all he wanted to do was get on with the life he'd imagined before the war. He used the GI Bill to put himself through college and graduated with a degree in Mechanical Engineering. He also found a wife, Julia, in college and they were married the month he graduated. Mike started a job with General Motors in Detroit a week after their honeymoon and a year later he and Julia bought a house in Farmington Hills, Michigan.

Mike had left the war behind, but it hadn't left him. He learned of the Menton Day celebrations through the local VFW post and found a few of the former members of the 1st SSF in both Detroit and in Windsor, Ontario. Every December 5th, the day the 1st SSF was disbanded, they'd meet in a bar, have a couple beers, and relive their time as the Allied unit most feared by the Germans.

Mike hadn't left behind those months with Renita and her family either. He hadn't really even said goodbye to them. He'd just thanked them for what they'd done for him. Renita had wiped the tears from her eyes and then given him a hug just before he climbed into the bed of a truck that was headed for the rear after delivering supplies to the front.

He often wondered what had happened to Renita after the war. She had probably married some Italian guy who came back from the war and found her to be the one woman he couldn't resist. Mike understood how that could be true because the longer he was with Renita, the more he liked her. He'd had to keep reminding himself that Renita and her family had put their lives at risk to help him because they hated the Germans. That way, leaving her like he had didn't seem so bad to him.

}{

When the former members of the 1st SSF got together on December 5, 1973 it was hard for Mike to believe that almost twenty-nine years had passed so quickly, but it had. His two kids had both graduated from college and had families of their own. He'd suffered a little when they left home, but not as much as he'd suffered when Julia was killed in an auto accident. They'd been married for twenty-five years and her death had set him back for nearly a year.

It was even harder for him to believe that he'd just celebrated his fiftieth birthday. It seemed like one day he was getting off the ship from Europe in New York in his uniform, and the next he was living by himself in the same house in that he and Julia had bought a year after they were married.

It was at that casual meeting one of the Canadian members posed a question. The next December 5th would be thirty years after the 1st SSF was disbanded. He was planning on flying to Europe and touring the places they'd fought to celebrate that anniversary. Would any of the other members like to join him and make it a group tour? He'd done some checking and a group could get better hotel rates.

It might have been the beer, but the entire group of twenty-six raised their hands, including Mike. He'd thought about going back several times, but with work and the kids, there hadn't been enough money or enough time. Now that he was alone and making a lot more money, the cost wouldn't be a problem. The time wouldn't either. He'd just schedule two weeks of his vacation for December instead of July.

}{

He was surprised at the Leonardo da Vinci airport in Rome the next December 1st. Because some of the members from Detroit had stayed in contact with other members, what had started out as a few old soldiers visiting Anzio had turned into a full-fledged guided tour. When he got off the plane, there was a group of about fifty standing at the baggage carousel holding a sign that said, "1st SSF Thirty Year Reunion". By the time all the flights from the US and Canada had landed, there were over a hundred men and more than a few wives.

Since the battles that led to the US Rangers joining the 1st SSF had happened around Anzio, that was to be the first stop. The group would take the train from Rome to Anzio and then check in at the Il Paradiso sul Mare hotel. After lunch the next day, the group would travel to Cisterna to commemorate the Rangers who had lost their lives there. After that, the formal tour would continue to Rome, but members were free to go where they wanted after Cisterna.

}{

The area had changed a lot since 1944. The swamps around Anzio had been again drained and now were fields of olive trees and vegetables. Anzio had changed too. The last time Mike had seen Anzio, it was basically rubble. Now, it was a thriving city with all the traffic and people of any modern city.

The group made a stop at the Mussolini Canal. It was still there, but instead of Rangers with blacked out faces slipping silently along the banks, river cruise ships now slowly made their way through the water while tourists snapped photos of the banks.

Mike didn't feel much until the group stopped at the open fields where most of the US Rangers had been either killed or captured. When he looked out over the fields, he was transported back in time. He could hear the staccato chatter of German machine guns and the thunder of the artillery and the clatter of tanks. It was only because one of the Canadians from Windsor touched him on the shoulder that he didn't run for cover.

"Mike, I see and hear it too, but there's no battle now. You can relax."

Mike did relax enough he began looking for the pile of rocks that had saved his life. As a result, he drifted away from the main group, all the way to what he remembered as being the edge of the fields in 1944. There were trees there. He thought they were probably the same trees, but they were quite a bit bigger than he remembered so he couldn't be sure. He did find some rocks that looked vaguely familiar, but the years had covered most of them with soil.

Once there, his mind was again remembering the events of thirty years before. He began walking north through the trees, just as he had that day in January. Also like that day in January, Mike didn't know where he was going.

He didn't know until he saw a farmhouse and a barn in the distance, the same farmhouse and barn he remembered as the place Renita took him and kept him hidden. It took all he had not to start running.

Yes, it was the same farmhouse and the same barn. The woodpile was there too, a little different than he remembered, but it was still there. Mike walked up to the back door and tapped it softly.

The woman who opened the door had white hair and was a little stooped over, but she was the same woman. Mike softly asked, "Francesca, Francesca Ficoccia?"

The woman looked him up and down, then smiled and nodded. Before he could say anything else, the woman turned and said, "Renita... Vieni qui".

A few seconds later Renita walked up beside Francesca and then gasped and put her hand over her mouth.

"Mike? Mike Ryan?"

Mike nodded.

"Yes, it's me. I was hoping you'd still be here and here you are."

The rest of the afternoon was a joy of hearing Renita's voice again when he told her about what he'd done since the war ended. Renita had smiled when he said he'd gotten married and had two kids at home, then frowned when he told her his wife had been killed.

"I understand how you must feel. I married Francesco after the war and we had two children. We met one Saturday when I went to Cisterna to sell some vegetables. Before the war, he was a stonemason, and when he came back from fighting the Germans, he took a job rebuilding the city. We were married six months later. Mother thought it was too fast, but neither of us wanted to wait. Our son was born ten months later.

"We lived in Cisterna so he could be close to his work. It was three months after our daughter was born that he was tearing down the front of a building and the whole wall fell down. He couldn't run fast enough and the wall fell on him. I moved back to the farm with our son and daughter then. They're both married now. My son apprenticed as a carpenter and now builds houses in Cisterna. My daughter married a farmer and she lives with his family."

Mike told her about what he did as an engineer and why he was there. He laughed and said he didn't recognize anything except for Renita's farmhouse and barn. She had just smiled.

"After you left, things happened very fast. The Americans took Rome and then kept going toward Germany. Then, we heard on the radio that the Americans and British had landed at Normandy and had captured many German soldiers.

"When the radio said that Germany had surrendered, everyone was so happy. After all those years, first with Mussolini and then the Germans, Italy could breathe again. The people started cleaning up what the war had left and began getting on with their lives.

"My brothers came home when the war ended and started farming our farm. They both married girls whose fathers owned farms not far from here. Now, they farm those farms as well as this one. I still go to the market in Cisterna with some of our vegetables, but most are sold to a canning company in Rome."

Mike had been thinking about something and when Renita asked if he could stay for dinner, he smiled.

"Yes, I could, but I was wondering. You kept me alive for months and I owe you for that. Would you have dinner with me in Cisterna? It's the least I can do. I read in a travel brochure that La Vera Tradizione is a pretty nice place."

Renita said she had to change clothes first, and when she walked out of her bedroom, Mike grinned.

"You're beautiful, Renita."

Renita blushed.

"You probably think all Italian women are beautiful. You seem to like our movie stars a lot."

Mike smiled.

"They're pretty nice, but they're pretty fake in a lot of ways. You're the real deal. Now, let's go to Cisterna. I want to show everybody the woman who saved my life."

They took Renita's little Fiat to La Vera Tradizione. Mike loved the restaurant. It was maybe a little pricey, but it was quiet and romantic and it fit the mood he was in.

That mood changed from being happy to see Renita to not wanting her to leave. The group had arranged hotel rooms at the Hotel Buonnana in Cisterna for that night so he was staying there. He didn't want this to be the last time he saw Renita. The next stop for the tour was Rome, and Mike had another idea.

"Renita, we're supposed to go to Rome tomorrow and follow the same road we walked when we took the city. I wasn't there long enough to know where anything is, and the tour probably won't go to any of the smaller places. Would you go with me and show me what there is to see in Rome?"

Renita had smiled.

"Showing you Rome will take more than a day."

Mike had figured on that.

"I thought it might. After Rome, the group is on their own for as long as they want to stay. My flight back to Detroit isn't for another nine days. I'll pay for a hotel room and all your meals if you'll stay in Rome with me and be my tour guide."

Renita saw the look on Mike's face. He was almost begging her. She agreed, and justified that to herself by that look, but driving back to the farmhouse that night, she realized it was because she had liked Mike in 1944, and now that he was with her again, that feeling had come back.

Mike was waiting in front of the hotel when Renita drove up. They'd agreed that it would be easier to meet in Cisterna instead of trying to find each other if Mike rode the tour bus to Rome.

That first day, Renita drove Mike to the major places where all the tours stopped. He'd lied a little to Renita. He'd seen all those places while the Army was trying to figure out what to do with what was left of the Rangers. What made him glad he'd convinced Renita to stay in Rome with him was lunch.

He'd heard that most of the group was going to a large restaurant that served both Italian food and American hamburgers. When Mike asked Renita about it, she shook her head.

"The food is made for tourists and the prices are tourist prices. I know of a small place where the food is real Italian and the prices are better. We'll go to Ristorante Tinterento. I went to school with the man who owns it now."

Ristorante Tinterento was a tiny little place tucked into a line of shops a ways off the main streets of Rome, but the aroma of the food made Mike hungry before they even got to the door. Once they were inside, the owner walked up, said "Renita, è bello vederti a Roma", and then gave her a hug. Mike didn't know if it was because the owner knew Renita or if the food and service was always as great, but he didn't care. It was great just sitting at the small table across from Renita in the romantic setting of the place.

For dinner, Renita took him to another tiny little restaurant. It was just as quiet and just as romantic and the waiter was excellent, always watching to see if there was something they needed but not hovering over them.

The waiter did make both him and Renita laugh though. He'd asked Mike what wine they would like with their meals. Mike said he didn't know much about wine, so Renita asked if the restaurant had Sangiovese. The waiter nodded and left.

Renita was explaining to Mike that the breezes off the sea changed the taste of the grapes used to make Sangiovese when the waiter came back. He showed Renita the bottle and then said, "Questo è fatto a soli venti chilometri da qui da mio fratello. È il vino perfetto per gli amanti. Dato che siete amanti, sarà speciale per voi."

As the waiter uncorked the bottle and poured them each a glass, Mike saw Renita blush and then say, "Sto solo mostrando Roma al mio amico", to which the waiter grinned and replied, "I vostri occhi riflettono ciò che i vostri cuori desiderano".

Mike hadn't understood a word, and asked Renita what they'd said to each other. She blushed again.

"He said the wine is made by his brother just a few kilometers from here and that it would be special for us because we are lovers. I told him I was just helping a friend to see Rome."

"But he said something else after that. What did he say?"

That was when Renita laughed softly.

"He said our eyes tell him what our hearts want. I think he was just trying to make us feel good. We're not acting like lovers, are we?"

Mike chuckled.

"I don't know. In the States, we'd be holding hands or kissing if we were lovers. How do Italian lovers act?"

Renita sipped her wine and then smiled.

"It depends. Most older people would rather not see young couples touching each other or kissing. It is the old way. They think that is something to be kept private. The younger people usually do not have any private place because they still live with their parents or with other relatives. They think touching and kissing in public is just a normal way of showing others how they feel about each other. The one thing few Italians would ever do is touch each other or kiss in front of family before they are married."

Mike chuckled again.

"Well, neither of us is young. If we were lovers, would the same rules apply?"

Renita had to think about that question for a few moments. Was Mike telling her he liked her? She didn't think he possibly could come to that conclusion after such a short time. No, he was probably just making conversation.

"Older people could do that without question, but most probably wouldn't. The old ways are still strong in people our age."

}{

After three days, Renita had shown Mike all the major attractions in Rome and then began showing him the places most tourists never see. She took him to the shops of artisans in wood, ceramics, and stone. She took him to more tiny little bars and restaurants for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Each night Mike said good night after he'd walked Renita to her hotel room. Each night, it was harder for him to watch her open the door and then close it once she was inside.

That feeling was confusing to Mike. He spent a lot of time thinking about it each night when he was in bed and trying to go to sleep.

He knew he'd felt something for Renita in 1944 when he lived in her cellar and in the wood pile. At the time, he thought it was just appreciation, well, mostly. Renita had been a very pretty girl then and he'd been a young man eager to jump headfirst into love. He'd been envious of the married men in his unit when they got letters from their wives with the imprint of their lips in bright red lipstick over the sealed flap.