March 23, 1943
It was the anniversary of a major fascist occasion : the “founding of the fasci di combattimento” or the birth of the fascist party.
It was obligatory to show up at school, in “black” uniform. I was attending the first class of the G. Guinizelli Middle School and the literature teacher was the fanatical daughter of a guy named De Rosa, who I think was a black shirts federal or a general of the M.V.S.N. (Milizia Volontaria Sicurezza Nazionale) defined as “black the uniform, black the soul.” But that day, together with three or four other classmates of mine, we entered the classroom in our usual “civilian” clothes, and that is without the fascist uniform. Teacher De Rosa yelled at us, anything and everything. He threatened us. He wrote in the notebook of each of us “rebels” the following:
<< Bologna March 23, '43 In the judgment of the 2nd quarter, it will be taken into account that the boy did not come in uniform today.
Teacher De Rosa >>
The fanatic, however, forgot to indicate after the date, also “ XXII E.F. (which obligatorily had to mean : twenty-second year of the fascist era), such a shortcoming could have cost her dearly. Since ever since I was a boy I was never able to keep quiet and willing to suffer, I was the only one who asked the teacher what the “”WILL BE ACCOUNTED “” meant The answer was immediate : we would be taken two grades off all subjects ! And from here my aversion to the regime took another leap forward ! Part of the sheet of that notebook - bearing the above description - is still preserved by me. Such a “note” was to be signed by the boy's father. But my mom, who had never agreed with the dictatorship of the regime, did not show the “note” to my dad who, being an employee of the state railways, would in turn receive a severe reprimand. My mom wrote under the “note” the surname Macciantelli and instead of the name she made a scribble of difficult interpretation. And so the whole thing passed as my dad's signature. My mom never made me wear the uniform of “son of the she-wolf” first, and “balilla” later.
In the following month, U.S. four-engine planes called flying fortresses and British bombers began to leave from Decimomannu Airport (Sardinia) with northern Italy as their destination. Air raid alarms were sounded both day and night, so schools were closed, the third quarter did not take place and those who could escape, fled. I found myself automatically promoted without any merit, to second class.
(The first aerial bombardment of Bologna, was carried out on July 16, 1943. At the end of the war, there were 2,481 dead from the various air bombings over Bologna, of which 246 remained unidentified. Some of the planes were the RAF's “ Lancaster I ‘ and ’ Halifax MK I ‘ ; the ’ Consolidated B 24 Liberator ‘ and ’ Boeing B 17 ” North Americans).
With my family, at first, we decided to go to our old little house in Gaggio Montano, then around the 5th or 6th of October we fled to the one in Granaglione after we had been hit in Gaggio by the cannonades, first the American ones, then the German ones and the Nazi reprisal, in total five months of war and fear. I thought , what good luck! I remember that when the regime demanded that the couple hand over their gold wedding rings, my mom told me that if the fascists wanted her ring, they would have to cut off her finger. So my dad had to rush to buy a thin gold ring right away, as railroaders were closely watched by the militia.