The Garden of Letters (28 page)

Luca was right. There was no time to attempt another delivery of the coded information. That very evening, September 8, as Elodie and Orsina were eating dinner, the radio broadcast astonishing news: The king had publicly declared an armistice between Italy and the Allied forces. But even if the king’s intention was to protect Italy from a German invasion, Mussolini had other plans. In order to restore his own power, Mussolini had made a pact with Hitler allowing him to send his troops into Italy through the north.

The Resistance had been made aware that the Germans would now be entering Italy any day. Unbeknownst to Elodie, Maffini and Zampieri had already boarded a night train to Verona and were rushing home to arrange an emergency group meeting.

While Elodie slept, the men conferred with Colonel Eugenio Spiazzi, a distinguished military officer whose allegiance was to the king, not to Mussolini. Believing the north had to be protected at any cost, Spiazzi corralled his own soldiers and established a strategy with Maffini and Zampieri. They needed to defend three bridges of Verona from the German tanks: Ponte Garibaldi, Ponte Nuovo, and Ponte Navi. The German army would be trying to enter Verona the next morning, when the fight to protect the city would begin.

At 7:00
A.M.
, there is a knock on Elodie’s door. She looks through the peephole. It is Lena, her blonde hair wrapped in a long scarf.

“Elodie, I need to speak to you.”

Elodie, groggy, opens the door and hears Lena giving her orders.

“You’re needed at once. The Germans are already outside the city. They’ll begin the attack on Verona within a few hours. Beppe says Colonel Spiazzi is telling us that we must wrangle every man and woman willing to protect Verona.”

Lena’s words are uttered like rapid gunfire. She is more alive than Elodie has ever seen her; Elodie can smell her adrenaline like perfume.

“I’ll get ready right away,” Elodie responds. She is about to turn to go to change her clothes, when she sees her mother in the threshold of the living room. She has heard every word Lena has said.

She looks at the two girls. Lena in her scarf, her blue eyes radiant and defiant. Her daughter, whose recent behavior she now understands, is a creature of incredible strength, a courage that runs far deeper within her than just her music.

Orsina feels a rush of energy permeating her body, as though the passion and courage of the two girls has surged into her as well. Her husband’s death was caused by the Fascists, and she’ll not let her daughter fight them alone.

“Lena,” she says before Elodie can even speak. “Count me in, too.”

Orsina and Elodie quickly change into their street clothes. Lena leaves them, telling her she’s taken her bicycle and must inform all the other
staffette
about the situation. She tells them to go to Café Dante in Piazza dei Signori, where they will be told what to do next.

Just before leaping onto her bicycle, she runs back to Orsina and embraces her. “Thank you for helping us.”

Orsina wraps her arms around Lena’s body. “My daughter is fighting and my own husband died because of this brutality. How could I not?”

Lena looks back at Elodie and Orsina one more time before readjusting her scarf and barreling down the stairs of the apartment house. The two women can hear her footsteps as they slip on their own shoes.

There is shouting in the streets. Men who have gone out for their early morning coffee at the bar and women who have gone to the market to do their errands, are suddenly besieged with the terrifying news: the German army has already started its assault at the outer barracks and are making their way closer to the city. For years, the Fascists have ruled the city and no one dared speak out against them for fear of imprisonment—or worse—from the Blackshirts. But no one wants to see their city invaded by the Nazis. Even the Italian soldiers at the garrison do not want to find themselves under German occupation.

People flee back to their apartments and close their shutters, afraid of being arrested. The Fascists were brutal, but now with the looming threat of the Gestapo, nearly everyone is terrified of being sent to prison or shot. A few are willing to ignore the danger and volunteer to spread the information on how people can assist the Resistance; women whisper into one another’s ears about where to stockpile food and clothing for the men who will need it. Elodie thinks she can tell with a single glance who is willing to help and who is not. Their eyes alone reveal their allegiance.

Elodie and Orsina arrive at Café Dante, where Brigitte is instructing all the
staffette
what to do. She is standing on a stool in what looks like borrowed military khakis and a white blouse. Her hair is pulled tightly away from her face, revealing her sharp features. Her expression is fierce and confident. Across her body is a long, heavy rifle and a rope of ammunition. “
Ragazze
!” she yells over the chatter. “Girls.”

Suddenly the room falls quiet. No one is used to hearing Brigitte speak, and her voice resonates with power and a sense of command.

“Today I need every one of you to forget you are women. Today there are no men and there are no women, only soldiers.”

The women begin to cheer. Around the room, Elodie recognizes familiar faces from the meetings at Luca’s bookstore, and also from around the city as well. There is the woman from the cheese shop and the young widow who lived on the floor below them who lost her husband in the Russian front. Every one of them is furious over losing her loved ones to Mussolini’s campaign for power, and adamant she will not live under Nazi rule.

“Tell us what to do!” one of the women shouts. She is not a
staffetta
, but a matron eager to be useful.

“Berto is already with Maffini. The last report I’ve received is that they were heading toward the Caserma Ederle, where the 8th Artillery in Campofiore is set to join forces with Colonel Spiazzi and his garrison troops. So we need to be ready back here if the tanks enter the city.” She gives a quick tap to the rifle on her chest.

“First of all, are there any nurses here?”

Two women raise their hands. Another says she has no formal training, but raised three boys so knows a lot about dealing with bruises and injuries.

“Go home and make bandages from sheets. Sterilize instruments if you have them. If anyone has an attic, start storing blankets and provisions in it. We need to be prepared for every outcome.”

As Brigitte is giving out her orders, Elodie turns and sees that Lena has come through the door. She is soaked with perspiration, her hair wild, and her eyes are shining like two steel-blue bullets.

“The Germans have already passed through Brennero. They’ve attacked the barracks of Rovereto and Val Lagarina, and trampled our men on the outskirts of the city in Boscomantico and Parona. They are now going toward the Caserma Ederle, where our men are with Colonel Spiazzi.” Lena reaches into her pocket for her scarf and mops her brow with it. “I have a special message from Spiazzi himself, telling us that it’s absolutely essential that we delay the enemy’s advancement. Brigitte, if you know where the spare weapons are, they want them moved to the Piazza delle Poste.”

The room becomes completely silent. Brigitte lifts her chin and adjusts her rifle. She is still standing on the stool. “I do.” Pointing to Elodie, Lena, and Orsina, she barks, “You three come with me.”

Mother, daughter, and Lena all follow Brigitte to Berto’s studio. A sense of déjà vu hits Elodie as she walks up the hallway to the apartment, having been there only a few days before. Brigitte adjusts the rifle on her back as she reaches to find her key.

The sculptures have been moved to a corner. On the table are four empty glasses, an empty bottle of grappa, a few scattered books, and some pens. Elodie can only imagine what sort of rushed activity happened last night, when Berto arrived home after his meeting with the colonel. If she and Luca were packing guns into books back at the store, then Berto’s studio must have been filled with other unprecedented activity.

“Girls, quickly!” Brigitte orders them. Elodie shoots a look at Orsina. She can tell that being called a “girl” had invigorated her mother.

The women follow Brigitte to the bedroom. None of them look at the unmade bed or the messy end table. They stand there focused, waiting for Brigitte to tell them what to do.

“Come, we need to get these books off first . . .” She points to a large trunk at the foot of the bed covered with books. The four of them work quickly so that within seconds the books are on the ground. Brigitte turns toward the dresser and reaches deep into a ceramic pitcher to pull out a key.

She returns to the trunk and opens the lock, lifting its lid to reveal four ninety-one-millimeter rifles. On the side of the trunk are six hand grenades.

She orders Elodie and Lena to take a rifle. The gun is far too heavy for Orsina; Brigitte instructs her to take a canvas sack and fill it with the grenades.

The women do as they are told, their bodies weighted by the weapons. Brigitte takes the spare rifle and straps it to her chest, carrying the other one in her arms. She instructs Elodie to close the trunk, and all four women march out the door.