The Sicily Chronicles

February 1943-1

Another chilly night. The moonless sky is hauntingly black and a thin sheet of clouds obscures the stars overhead. The air is still; the only sound I hear in our encampment on the edge of this mountain is the murmur of a passing breeze winding through the trees. Scores of exhausted soldiers are bivouacked around me in this pass through the Atlas Mountains in Tunisia. We wait for orders from our German commander or, worse, a sudden attack by enemy forces.

Another chilly night. The moonless sky is hauntingly black and a thin sheet of clouds obscures the stars overhead. The air is still; the only sound I hear in our encampment on the edge of this mountain is the murmur of a passing breeze winding through the trees. Scores of exhausted soldiers are bivouacked around me in this pass through the Atlas Mountains in Tunisia. We wait for orders from our German commander or, worse, a sudden attack by enemy forces.We have no firepits to warm us, only the red glow of a cigarette to light the ruddy cheeks and coarse hands of the men. We know that burning cigarettes is discouraged, but the pop of a flaring match is worse, so we have adopted the practice of chain smoking, lighting each butt from the one before to avoid the signal given off by the sulphurous burst of a new match.

We have no firepits to warm us, only the red glow of a cigarette to light the ruddy cheeks and coarse hands of the men. We know that burning cigarettes is discouraged, but the pop of a flaring match is worse, so we have adopted the practice of chain smoking, lighting each butt from the one before to avoid the signal given off by the sulphurous burst of a new match.“Shhh,” one man whispers to some others sitting in a cluster near him. Sound is also discouraged, but my fellow recruits from Sicily have little of home left in them except the stories they share on these dark nights.

“,” one man whispers to some others sitting in a cluster near him. Sound is also discouraged, but my fellow recruits from Sicily have little of home left in them except the stories they share on these dark nights.“Silensu!” the man says again. “Ira infernu!” he spits out in Sicilian argot.

“!” the man says again. “!” he spits out in Sicilian argot.These men were recruited by the local authorities in their towns, mostly from Gela, Agrigento, and Mazara del Vallo on the southern coast of our island. The Italian government thought it expedient to bring young Sicilian men into the conflict, men who had a local connection and who would commit to the fight to preserve their homeland. We didn’t count on being shipped to North Africa though, even when the German commander told us that this was the way to keep the Americans and British far enough away from attacking Sicily itself.

These men were recruited by the local authorities in their towns, mostly from Gela, Agrigento, and Mazara del Vallo on the southern coast of our island. The Italian government thought it expedient to bring young Sicilian men into the conflict, men who had a local connection and who would commit to the fight to preserve their homeland. We didn’t count on being shipped to North Africa though, even when the German commander told us that this was the way to keep the Americans and British far enough away from attacking Sicily itself.I sit behind these squabbling men, understanding their disappointment and pain, but I am also disappointed to be defending this mountain pass in Africa rather than my beloved Sicily. I shift my position and arch my shoulders to stretch them, then lean back into the shallow wooden chair that I have provisioned. It is not very comfortable, but I can rest on the burlap sling seat and back of the sparse furniture.

I sit behind these squabbling men, understanding their disappointment and pain, but I am also disappointed to be defending this mountain pass in Africa rather than my beloved Sicily. I shift my position and arch my shoulders to stretch them, then lean back into the shallow wooden chair that I have provisioned. It is not very comfortable, but I can rest on the burlap sling seat and back of the sparse furniture.The stiff neck of my starched sand-colored uniform chafes at my skin, so I poke a finger into the collar to pull it from my neck. Lifting the stubby cigarette to my lips, I draw in deeply and hold the breath for a moment before letting the smoke drift slowly out in a silent whisper between my lips. But I should write more about the war, not just my discomfort.

The stiff neck of my starched sand-colored uniform chafes at my skin, so I poke a finger into the collar to pull it from my neck. Lifting the stubby cigarette to my lips, I draw in deeply and hold the breath for a moment before letting the smoke drift slowly out in a silent whisper between my lips. But I should write more about the war, not just my discomfort.It’s doubtful that anyone will read this journal, even if it survives the war. Even if I survive. But the bloodshed, devastation, and terror all around us convinces me that I should put my thoughts on paper.

It’s doubtful that anyone will read this journal, even if it survives the war. Even if I survive. But the bloodshed, devastation, and terror all around us convinces me that I should put my thoughts on paper.I am Vito Trovato, from Mazara del Vallo. I was drafted into the Italian 131st Armored Division Centauro. Most of the ‘recruits’ – we’re encouraged to report that we volunteered – are from my part of Sicily in the province of Trapani on the western side of the island. The German Army built up its reserves by recruiting divisions of Italian conscripts to defend our land. But, more importantly to the Third Reich, we are here to serve as a defensive line against attempts by the enemy to use Sicily as a staging area for an attack on the European mainland…and, from there, to the Fatherland.

I am Vito Trovato, from Mazara del Vallo. I was drafted into the Italian 131st Armored Division Centauro. Most of the ‘recruits’ – we’re encouraged to report that we volunteered – are from my part of Sicily in the province of Trapani on the western side of the island. The German Army built up its reserves by recruiting divisions of Italian conscripts to defend our land. But, more importantly to the Third Reich, we are here to serve as a defensive line against attempts by the enemy to use Sicily as a staging area for an attack on the European mainland…and, from there, to the Fatherland.They think of Sicily as a barrier island, a battleground between Africa and Europe, and they treat us like cannon fodder. They know we will fight to protect Sicily and our people, and that should be enough to satisfy their goals.

They think of Sicily as a barrier island, a battleground between Africa and Europe, and they treat us like cannon fodder. They know we will fight to protect Sicily and our people, and that should be enough to satisfy their goals.My country has been thought of that way for a long time…a barren ground on which the peoples of the world staged their battles. If it’s not the Greeks taking over our cities and taking our women, then it’s the Romans stealing our grain or the Spanish or Byzantines or Normans vying for domination over us.

My country has been thought of that way for a long time…a barren ground on which the peoples of the world staged their battles. If it’s not the Greeks taking over our cities and taking our women, then it’s the Romans stealing our grain or the Spanish or Byzantines or Normans vying for domination over us.No one believes that the Nazis care about Sicily itself, or the Sicilians. But I am a Sicilian, and any invaders coming to my country must be sent back.

No one believes that the Nazis care about Sicily itself, or the Sicilians. But I am a Sicilian, and any invaders coming to my country must be sent back.We haven’t been very successful in sending back the invaders, though. Now, or in centuries past. Maybe we should just regard each new aggressor carefully and choose which ones we should surrender to.

We haven’t been very successful in sending back the invaders, though. Now, or in centuries past. Maybe we should just regard each new aggressor carefully and choose which ones we should surrender to.We – the 131st Armored Division recruits – assembled in the square of our city in November of last year and we were later ferried across to Tunisia to fight the Allies who had landed there. I have a good education from the university at Palermo and I returned to my home in Mazara to teach Italian literature to secondary students. The German hierarchy thought I should become an officer and lead men of lesser status.

We – the 131st Armored Division recruits – assembled in the square of our city in November of last year and we were later ferried across to Tunisia to fight the Allies who had landed there. I have a good education from the university at Palermo and I returned to my home in Mazara to teach Italian literature to secondary students. The German hierarchy thought I should become an officer and lead men of lesser status.I had to laugh at this. I am true to my occupation, but it’s hard to find a profession of lower status to a German general than a teacher of literature. But, these are unusual times.

I had to laugh at this. I am true to my occupation, but it’s hard to find a profession of lower status to a German general than a teacher of literature. But, these are unusual times.We landed the next morning and the Germans quickly set up their camp. We Siciliani were left to ourselves, an armored detachment in defense of a German operation that, otherwise, pretended we weren’t here. They say the place is called the Kasserine Pass, but all I know is it’s cold, dark, and unfriendly.

We landed the next morning and the Germans quickly set up their camp. We Siciliani were left to ourselves, an armored detachment in defense of a German operation that, otherwise, pretended we weren’t here. They say the place is called the Kasserine Pass, but all I know is it’s cold, dark, and unfriendly.We’re in a trail through the mountains and they say it has some importance to the war, but the war itself lacks meaning for most of us. We hear that our Prime Minister, Il Duce, is fighting against the Americans and British, but while leaders declare wars, real men fight them. This pass, this Kasserine, matters for some reason that Herr Rommel, the most honored German field marshal, decides. But will he die along with us?

We’re in a trail through the mountains and they say it has some importance to the war, but the war itself lacks meaning for most of us. We hear that our Prime Minister, Il Duce, is fighting against the Americans and British, but while leaders declare wars, real men fight them. This pass, this Kasserine, matters for some reason that Herr Rommel, the most honored German field marshal, decides. But will he die along with us?I would rather be back in Sicily, in Mazara del Vallo, but I suppose defending my country against these attacks here in North Africa keeps the threat farther from my people. Sicilians have had too much conflict throughout our history; we could use a break.