A Winter's Night (43 page)

“If you accept my proposal, the Allies will give you support through regular airdrops, in accordance with our commanders. They can actually supply you with exactly what you need . . . ”

Sugano was still mute.

“Think about it. In order to provide for your men, you are forced to confiscate your means of transport and above all your food supplies from the local population, and this makes you very unpopular. There's a consistent portion of these people who are not behind you: we've had complaints, protests, claims of sacking . . . ”

At this point, Montesi thought that Sugano would shoot him in the back. Nothing. So he stopped.

“With our support, you will receive provisions regularly from the sky. When you need to confiscate something from a local family, you can give them a certificate that entitles them to be reimbursed. Now, don't you think that if you kill me you'll end up losing a lot of the prestige that you've gained on the battlefield of Monte Sole?”

At that point, very slowly and with his hands raised high, Montesi turned around until the barrel of the tommy gun was pointing at his chest.

“We're here,” said Sugano.

Montesi nodded. “Right. So what are you going to do? Shoot me?”

Sugano lowered the gun. “No,” he said, “because you're right.”

Montesi took a long breath and sat down on a tree trunk until his heartbeat returned to normal.

“What do we do now?” he asked. “What will Wolf say?”

“I don't know. But he'll have to accept it. He'll start yelling, he'll probably point his pistol at me . . . who knows. It was going to happen sooner or later.”

“So we go back?”

“No, not now. We'll wait, maybe he'll calm down in the meantime,” replied Sugano.

Montesi offered him one of the remaining Chesterfields and they sat and chatted. Montesi couldn't believe that in just a few minutes' time he had gone from the prospect of a summary execution to sharing a cigarette—and not the last smoke of a prisoner condemned to death!—in the company of his would-be hangman. They spoke at length, until Sugano thought that the time had come for them to go back. They did just that, walking side by side. When they arrived, the Wolf wasn't there. He had gone with a squad of about twenty men to inspect a site.

“That's good,” said Sugano. “He'll get it out of his system, and when he comes back maybe he'll have changed his mind.”

They entered the building they were using as their headquarters and Sugano called over Spino, the sentry, to hear what had happened in the meantime.

“We captured a fascist and Wolf ordered his execution. We were waiting for you.”

“Christ, this place is a slaughterhouse,” burst out Montesi.

Sugano nudged him to shut up, then asked: “Where is this fascist?”

Spino opened the door to a stable and the others followed him in. A ray of sunshine was lighting up the interior.

“He's only a kid!” said Montesi.

“He's a fascist,” shot back Spino.

“You can't shoot him,” continued Montesi, “he's protected by the Geneva Convention. He can't be a day over fifteen”

“Sixteen,” corrected the boy.

Montesi walked up to him. “Why did you enlist?” he asked.

“To defend my country against the invaders, and traitors like you.”

“Traitors? You're not thinking clearly, buddy. There's a lot to say about who the traitors are, and who the invaders are. Maybe we should talk.”

“What for? Shoot me and get it over with!”

“Shut up, you idiot, are you in such a hurry to die?” said Montesi. He gave Sugano a look; the other man shrugged and they walked out together.

“Can't you do anything?” asked Montesi.

“You've got to be kidding. I've already disobeyed him by not killing you. Now we're going to spare the boy too? I wouldn't want to be around when he comes back.”

“I'll talk to him,” replied Montesi.

“You're crazy. But if you want to try, and you manage to survive the first ten minutes without him killing you, you've got a chance.”

Sugano turned to Spino: “In the meantime, keep a close watch on the kid. If this one gets away, we'll all end up in front of the firing squad.”

Spino nodded and double-locked the door.

“What happened to those five boys that just got here?” Sugano asked him.

“Wolf sent them out with Guerrino, towards Montepastore and Monte Ombraro, to patrol the zone between us and the guys from Montefiorino,” replied Spino.

“When are they coming back?”

“Don't know. When they're finished.”

Spino turned to Montesi: “You know? One of the five new guys comes from the same place you do.”

“What's his name?”

“Fabrizio, I think,” he replied. “Light brown hair, hazel eyes, sturdy build, a coffee-colored birthmark on his neck.”

“Christ! That's Savino's son!”

“Who's he?” asked Sugano.

“The boy's a friend of mine, but he knows nothing about me being here. Anyway, he doesn't belong here. Can't you warn him off? The kid has no experience whatsoever, he's never fired a shot his whole life.”

“Calm down,” said Sugano. “It's all under control. It's like being thrown into deep water: you sink or you learn to swim fast. A lot of other guys have been through here, what makes him so special?”

“Nothing. It's just that he's a good friend and I don't want him dead.”

Wolf didn't come back for three days. When they saw him, he was in a state of shock.

“The Germans have burned it all down. Homes, farms; there's nothing left standing at Monte Sole.”

Montesi walked up to him: “Considering what happened, you should have expected them to take revenge.”

“What the fuck is he doing here?” said Wolf, suddenly noticing the person he'd thought was a dead man, talking. “Didn't I tell you to get rid of him?”

“He convinced Sugano that you're wrong, and he also convinced him not to shoot that kid in there, in the stable,” Spino broke in.

“I'm too tired to be pissed,” replied Wolf. “I have to sleep, I'm falling over. But I'm not going to listen to any crap from you,” he said, pointing to Montesi. “I'm in charge here. You're worth shit, you understand that?”

“You are in charge here, Wolf, but that boy doesn't deserve to die. I've talked to him and convinced him that we are the patriots. He's come over to our side and he'll be a great fighter for freedom, mark my words.”

Wolf got close enough to touch him and looked him straight in the eye: “All right, I'll trust you on this one. But if you're wrong, if he runs off and tells the Nazis what he's seen here, I swear by God I will have you shot.”

“That won't be necessary,” said Montesi calmly. “Where do we go from here?”

“We go to Monte Sole. We have to protect our people.”

“If we go back there, it'll be the end. The Germans will come back with overwhelming force and crush us. All we have are light arms; they won't get us anywhere. Let's approach it from the other direction. We'll reach the Republic of Montefiorino and unite with the Modena division. Strength lies in unity.”

Wolf didn't say a word, but went inside.

“He needs to sleep,” said one of the men who'd come back with him. “He hasn't closed his eyes in over forty-eight hours.” Sugano picked three men from among those who were better rested and assigned them to guard the commander and watch over his sleep.

Wolf slept nine hours straight and woke up at four in the morning. He summoned Sugano and the other three battalion commanders: Corvo, Riccio and Labieno. He held council.

“Tell me straight out if you're afraid of fighting. We have never backed off. Nothing, nobody, has ever stopped us. There's no reason we can't reclaim Monte Sole.”

Sugano felt cut to the quick. “What the fuck is that about, Wolf? Have you ever seen me flinch? Haven't I fought at your side for hours and hours, day and night, snow and rain? Have you ever seen me run away? Did I ever leave your ass uncovered?”

“So we'll go. Where's the problem?”

“That we have enough ammunition for one hour,” replied Corvo.

‘Well that settles it, doesn't it?' concluded Sugano. ‘Unless we want to commit mass suicide. I was talking to the Blacksmith, he says we should go towards Castello di Ser­ravalle. There are friends there who can give us support and supplies. After that . . . '

“After that we'll discuss matters,” Wolf cut him short. No one at that moment felt like contradicting him. They woke up the others one by one, each man rousing the next, without making a sound. Montesi headed one of the columns, walking next to Romolo, the boy whose life he had saved and whom he felt personally responsible for.

They walked for a couple of hours until they reached Monte Vignola, not far from Vergato. It was there that Bruno Montesi recognized Fabrizio in the middle of a group of about twenty Red Star foot soldiers. They embraced.

“You are crazy,” said Montesi. “Why did you come up here? You've never fired a shot.”

“Yes I have, I'm sorry to say,” he replied. Fabrizio looked down at his shoes and thought of the boy that he had finished off. In his mind's eye he looked even more like Rossano, although he knew that was impossible.

“Useless asking you if you'd consider going home, right?”

“Completely,” said Fabrizio. “My place is here.”

“As you wish, I'm not going to insist, but be careful. This isn't a game. Dying is easy up here.”

They advanced at a steady pace until that evening without particular problems. They were careful about never letting down their guard; German troop movement had been reported throughout the area. They spent the night in a hayloft near Savigno and the morning after they reached Castello di Serravalle which was at a relatively low altitude. Wolf was nervous, his eyes continuously darted around as if he sensed danger. A friend of Montesi's appeared and showed them where the provisions were: a shelter that had been used until a couple of days before by the German command.

At this point, Wolf went back to his idea of returning to Monte Sole, but he found Sugano decidedly against it. “We don't have enough ammunition and we know for certain that the Germans will be back, in strength and with heavy artillery. The Blacksmith is right: we have to go to Montefiorino and unite with the men of the Modena division.”

Wolf became furious. “You are not going anywhere,” he said, “I decide where we go. We've come all this way for nothing.”

“I'm going with my men to Montefiorino.”

“Try it and I'll kill you!” growled Wolf.

“Kill me, if you have the guts!” shouted Sugano.

Wolf was taking the safety off his submachine gun when Montesi stepped in between them. “Are you both crazy? That's all we need, you two shooting at each other. Cut this out, now, you hear me? We can talk this out, for the love of God. Stop this right now, I said,” he repeated, pushing them physically apart. Fabrizio was shocked at what he was seeing: two men that he thought of as heroes were aiming their guns at each other. But his friend Bruno was getting the situation under control.

“Listen to me, let's start acting like people and not animals. Neither one of you wants to accept the point of view of the other. The only solution is to split up.”

A deathly silence fell over the men. They were utterly demoralized by seeing their two top commanders fighting this way. Wolf was a mess. His authority had never been challenged before, but he had probably realized by now that it would no longer be possible to keep the brigade together. Montesi thought that the biggest obstacle to solving this dilemma was that, even if the Red Star could be persuaded to join the Modena division, Wolf would categorically refuse to submit to the decisions of another commander. Of any other commander.

Montesi looked at Wolf and Sugano, in turn, and then scanned the men, all immobile with their fingers on the triggers, trying to figure out who was on which side. At a certain point, Wolf spoke: “All right. I'm not going to force you. I've never forced you to do anything. You've always followed me out of your own free will, you've always recognized me as your commander. If you want to go, I will not hold you back, but you have to leave your weapons here. They belong to me and to my men, to the men who are loyal to me and will not abandon me.”

A terrible situation had just gotten worse. The possession of their weapons was vital for both sides, and the two leaders were once again facing off with guns leveled.

“That's enough now,” said Montesi, “you both know very well that no one can survive up here without a weapon. Wolf, these men have made a decision that you don't like. But is that any reason to condemn them to certain death? You know that they will never give up their weapons; the only way to disarm them is to kill them. You won't do that, Wolf, because you're their commander. Because you don't want to spill blood among these men that you've always considered your brothers, more than brothers, men who have shared everything with you: dangers, sacrifices, nights out on the field, wounds, endless marches. Let them go. Let those who think differently than you do go their own way, and they will respect you, they'll remember you and they'll tell their sons and grandsons about you. Let us leave each other as friends, in the hopes that when we meet again, it will be in a better country, in an Italy which is freer and more just.”

Montesi became emotional as he spoke. His own words, the measured rhetoric he had learned at the party school, moved him. He didn't feel embarrassed, because he was the first to believe in what he was saying. Those present were simple men, who listened with their hearts, and were not difficult to influence. In the end, Wolf agreed to let Sugano's group leave with their arms and he did not try to convince anyone to remain with him. The ones who wanted to stay would be enough.