PILGRIMS WE ALL ARE
No, it’s not true,
we are not masters of our own destiny.
Nor are we conquerors,
haughty
and free
to plunder justice and truth.
Pilgrims we all are,
called upon to wander
briefly,
upon the testing grounds of righteousness,
toiling
side by side
on a tiny speck of the universe
called Earth.
Brothers we all are,
diverse, to be sure,
like flowers of the fields,
yes, diverse,
yet the same,
living,
hoping,
striving to bear our burdens,
and stumbling,
as we keep climbing
our mountains,
all the way to the top,
and beyond.
THE SPEECH
In the early evening of June 9, 1940, the Italian Radio Network (R.A.I.) interrupted its scheduled program with the following statement:
“Attention! Tomorrow, June 10, at noontime, “Il Duce” will address the nation. All work will stop for the duration of the address. The local authorities will set up loudspeakers in all public squares.” The same announcement was repeated every fifteen minutes, until midnight.
The news spread quickly and people began to gather at street corners, bus stops, or wherever they happened to be. They were talking, wondering, speculating as to the reason for the announcement.
Joining the German forces in the war was a primary concern. Such a possibility affected us in different ways. For some, fighting the war under Mussolini’s leadership aroused strong passions. For others, the same thought generated feelings of deep concern.
On the morning of the 10th, my mother came knocking at my bedroom door earlier than usual. She wanted to make sure, that I wouldn’t be late for school and that I would be properly attired for the event, whatever it was. The day before, the principal of my school, privy to the forthcoming radio announcement, had ordered the staff and the student body to come to school in full uniform.
After the knock at the door, I lingered in bed for a few minutes, wondering about the nature of the announcement. Will it be a declaration of war? Will my two brothers, both in the Navy, be safe? Will we be safe at the home front? Will my mother be able to bear the eventual stress and pain?
A second knock at the door, interrupted my long reverie. Within minutes, I was all dressed up in my “Avanguardista” uniform,