Legacy of Sorrows

by Roberto Buonaccorsi

  Major Reder reflected on the events. It was necessary, he thought, to bring order to the area. It may appear brutal to the onlooker, but the results spoke for themselves. Reder reasoned that these reprisals, brutal as they were, brought a sense of fear to the Italian population in general and helped to cut off support for the partisans. For every German Soldier killed by the partisans, he had promised reprisals of up to one hundred Italians killed, and so far had kept his promise.

  As he dressed, he looked at himself in the mirror. He had been recommended for promotion to the Führer for doing his duty, and he revelled in his growing reputation in Berlin for getting the job done.

  He wasn’t unduly worried about his stump of a left arm. In his service to the Fatherland and to Hitler, he would gladly have given his life.

  Reder had received fresh orders that day from the Wehrmacht headquarters. They were concerned about the increasing amount of Partisan activity that was attacking them from the rear and causing them a tactical problem in how to deal with it. The source of this activity seemed to be coming from the direction of Monte Sole. Field Marshall Kesselring, the overall German commander in Italy, had personally given the order to eradicate this problem in as ruthless a way as possible, to serve as a reminder to others of what would happen to them if they became involved with the partisans or offered them support.

  The German’s last line of defence, the Gothic line, was being hard-pressed by the Allies, and Kesselring needed all his forces in the line to defend it. This Partisan menace was causing badly needed resources to be diverted from the main fighting at the front to combat them, and Reder had been ordered to take his unit to Monte Sole to completely eliminate this threat.

  He was about to head to a meeting of his Officers and NCOs, to explain what the order meant in reality and to detail how the operation would take place. He thought out aloud, ‘Thankfully, I can rely on my men not to be weak willed in carrying out this order.’

  As Major Reder entered the large ornate room that served the Battalion as an operations centre, the assembled officers and NCOs immediately stood and with raised right arm gave the Nazi salute, Heil Hitler.

  He raised his remaining arm in response, and crossed to the lectern set in front of them. He looked out over the thirty soldiers gathered there and nodded his head in approval. These men were the elite, the toughest and the strongest soldiers he had ever commanded or served with. Reder had served on the Eastern Front with some of the men in front of him and he knew they had what it takes to eliminate this Partisan menace without flinching. Others in the group had participated in the Final Solution in the concentration camps of Auschwitz and Bergen-Belsen, which were Hitler’s industrialised murder camps for some six million Jews and political opposers.

  Reder knew that they would obey also the order to kill the partisans and those who aided them with food and shelter without question. His eyes were filled with pride that the Fatherland could produce men of steel such as these. Silence filled the room as he prepared to speak.

  ‘Soldiers of the Fatherland, we have been given another special task to carry out over the next few days. Field Marshall Kesselring himself has specifically asked for this unit to be at the forefront of the operation, and I have been honoured to accept the mission on your behalf.’ The men murmured to one another and Reder waited until they settled back down.

  ‘Starting at daybreak tomorrow we will attack the Monte Sole massif and clear the area of a band of criminals who call themselves the Stella Rossa: communist thieves, cowards and murderers who are attacking our positions in the line from behind. They number about fifteen hundred men, and our intelligence has reported them to be well armed. They are also supported by the majority of the local population, who view them as the guardians of the region. The main village, Marzabotto, has around six hundred inhabitants, and with the hamlets and farms around the massif, the total population is estimated at more than eighteen hundred men, women and children. Any questions so far?’

  A blonde, well-built giant of a man stood up and clicked his heels.

  ‘Yes, Kuller?’ Reder said to Sergeant Hans Kuller, his Company Sergeant, who was only twenty-two years old and had been with him since 1943 when he was then a Private in the SS. Reder had become used to his abrupt manner; he saw it as part of what made Kuller an exceptional soldier. The first time they had met was in Russia during an action against units of the Red Army, when Reder was severely wounded by shrapnel in his left arm from an exploding mortar shell. Kuller had picked him up and carried him in his arms as you would a sleeping baby, whilst all the time he was under fire from enemy mortars and automatic weapons. He carried him to safety behind their lines and handed him over to Army Medics. When Reder eventually recovered and returned to duty he had requested that Kuller be transferred to his command. The request was accepted by the High Command and Kuller soon found himself transferred to Reder’s unit and promoted to Sergeant. A close bond based on mutual respect was soon formed between them, though neither soldier ever took advantage of this friendship.

  Kuller stood to attention and said. ‘Are we being supported by other units, sir?’

  ‘We are, Sergeant. Units of the Wehrmacht will provide mopping-up support on the perimeters, while we do the heavy work. There will also be a unit from the GNR – the Italian Fascist Black Brigade – working with us. I don’t expect them to be very active in their duty, or to be as efficient or disciplined in their approach to exterminating these criminals as we are, so if they baulk at their clear duty then we will need to “educate” them properly.’

  This caused a ripple of laughter across the room. There was no mistaking what he meant by “educating them”. ‘So, men of the Waffen SS, we leave our barracks at 0400 tomorrow morning. Transport will be waiting on us, and it should take us around twenty minutes to get to our marshalling point. The operation starts at 0430, so I want you to organise a check on your weapons and replenish with hand grenades, ammunition, mortars and whatever else your men will need for the work ahead now.’ He looked around once more at their eager faces, shouted out Heil Hitler! and saluted with his outstretched arm. At this, all his men sprang to their feet, shouted Heil Hitler! in reply and gave the Nazi salute.

  There was a buzz of expectancy in the room as the soldiers spoke for a few minutes before leaving to brief their troops on the operation.

  Sergeant Kuller was bright-eyed and smiling at the thought of exterminating more partisans and their peasant supporters as he made his way to the SS barracks. He thanked God for the day he had run across Major Reder. He saw in him a perfect example of what an SS officer should be: brave, patriotic and zealous in his duty. He even envied him the loss of his arm, as he saw it as a red badge of courage. “One day,” he thought, “I will be like the Major. In the meantime, I will do my duty as best I can, even if it means giving my life for the Führer.”

  He entered the barrack room where his unit was billeted and called his men to attention. There was a flurry of activity as they stood by their beds. Looking around the room he made sure he had the men’s attention before speaking ‘Soldiers of the Führer, we have been assigned a mission on Monte Sole early tomorrow morning. We have been tasked with clearing the area of Italian criminals, so let’s have an early night as we leave at 0400 hours tomorrow. The order has come from the Field Marshall himself and he expects all of us to do our duty. We all know the danger these criminals pose so we will completely clear the area of them and their supporters. I want you all now to quickly check your weapons and replenish with sufficient ammunition and grenades for the work ahead. Heil Hitler!’ His men responded by shouting out in return the Führer’s name whilst standing rigidly to attention. A very pleased Sergeant Kuller turned and left the barracks, ‘I don’t have to worry about any of these men. They will all do their duty without hesitation.’

  Chapter 3

  As the first glint of the new day began to colour the edges of the dawn sky, I rose to leave for my Aunt’s farm. I kept any noise
down to a minimum to prevent wakening the rest of the family, so I walked around the kitchen barefooted. I had left my boots outside the front door and would put them on as I left the house.

  Picking up a newly sharpened knife my father had brought in from his workshop, I cut off some cheese from the block Mamma kept in the larder; it was pecorino, my favourite, made with the milk from our own sheep. Crossing the kitchen to the breadboard I picked up a slice of fresh bread that Mamma had made just last night. I could still smell the freshness from it as I took a bite. I ate my breakfast in a hurry as I had to be at the farm for 5am to start the milking and it was now 4.30am. It would take me fifteen minutes to walk there and I didn’t want to be late.

  I quietly opened the outside door and slipped through it, carefully closed the door behind me and then put on my boots. I then made my way down the well-worn path to Aunt Lisa’s farm.

  After a few minutes walking I came to a bend in the path with open views down the valley, and looking down the slope I could see in the near distance smoke rising up from some of the hamlets further down the mountain. I held my gaze on the smoke and thought I could see what looked like small fires dotted around the area. “Must be the farmers burning vegetation and dead trees gathered from their ground clearances” I thought, and moved on down the path. I always enjoyed the early morning on the mountain, with the sound of birds and the noise of wild boar in the nearby undergrowth for company as I walked along.

  Then, a new sound came to my ears. It was the sound of automatic gunfire and shrill screams rising up from the valley floor. I stopped and listened. There it was again, I wasn’t mistaken, it could only be the Germans. I ran as fast as he could down the path to Aunt Lisa’s farm, oblivious to everything but reaching my family to warn them of impending danger.

  After what seemed a lifetime I came to a fork in the path, the left trail led to the farm. I paused for a second to catch my breath before running on. Just then, through the trees, I caught sight of some men in military uniform just ahead of me. I jumped into the undergrowth out of sight and cautiously crawled closer to the farmhouse.

  The sight that met me chilled my whole being. Uncle Luigi was tied in a kneeling position on the ground with his throat cut. The soldiers had obviously made him watch as they raped his wife in front of him. His hands were tied behind his back by a rope. A wooden stake was attached to the rope and was tied behind his head, forcing it back to look over in his wife’s direction.

  Aunt Lisa was lying on the ground in front of him completely naked. Her stomach was cut from her chest down to her groin, and what appeared to be her baby was lying on the ground beside her. The soldiers had raped her and then cut her unborn child from her womb before leaving her to bleed to death. My cousin Moreno, who was twelve years old, was also lying dead. He had been shot through the back of his head.

  I felt the bile rise in my throat. My stomach was churning at the awful sight before me. I fought hard to stop myself vomiting in case the soldiers heard me and came for me as well.

  The soldiers were now busy torching the farmhouse, so I took the opportunity to crawl backwards through the undergrowth until I reached the main path again.

  My mind raced. What now? I must warn Mamma and Papà, and I ran blindly up the path towards my home.

  As I reached the bend in the path again I stopped for a moment. The fires I had seen earlier were now spreading along the valley floor in all directions. Smoke was rising like lazy plumes in the sky, drifting with the wind. My senses were all alert now. I could see men moving below me, and I could clearly hear the sound of automatic fire coming ever closer. The screams of the villagers were almost drowned out with the booming sound of grenades, or was that mortars? I turned to run up the path again, but stopped when I heard the sound of a vehicle coming towards me. I panicked, thinking “What should I do?” I jumped out of sight into the undergrowth growing along the edge of the mountainside once more. The sight of a German Army truck meandering up the path came into view. The canvas cover was down and I could see about a dozen soldiers inside chatting to each other quite normally. I could clearly make out their insignia; a skull - it was the SS. Even though I had never seen an SS soldier before, all the young boys in my school knew what their insignia was.

  I wished at that moment that I had a weapon to shoot them with. Then the thought came to me that the next house they would pass on the way to Marzabotto was mine.

  After the truck had driven past, I came out of the undergrowth and made a dash for the side of the mountain. I knew of a shortcut over the hillside that I could use to save time, and perhaps get to my home before the Germans did. All I could think of was to warn my family of the danger.

  I frantically climbed higher until I came across the path through the undergrowth. I ran as fast as I could along it, with tears blinding my eyes as I stumbled and fell along the way. Although my heart was pounding like a piston in my chest, I refused to slow down. Eventually, I could see the chimney stacks of my home just ahead.

  I pulled up sharply when I heard the sound of an explosion that seemed to fill the air, followed by automatic gunfire and what seemed like screaming. I ran forward at a crouch, hoping that no one would spot me while I was looking down on the house from the hills above.

  My father was fighting a tall, blonde soldier who was wearing the uniform of an SS Sergeant who was gaining the upper hand. Papà was trying to hit him on the head with a rock he had picked up from the courtyard, but the blonde giant had pushed him away and thrown him to the ground. As Papà tried to get up the SS Sergeant stood over him, pulled out his sidearm and shot him twice in the body. I cried with horror as I saw blood pump out of my father’s chest in what seemed to be a never-ending scarlet flow.

  The sound of shouting from the house drew my attention. I turned my head towards the source just in time to see an SS soldier forcing my three brothers into our house at gunpoint. When they were inside, he shut the door, then threw a grenade through the open window. It exploded a few seconds later with a deafening booming noise and immediately set the house ablaze. As the flames reached the roof, fanned by the light wind, the soldier kicked in the door and sprayed the interior of the house with a few bursts of automatic gunfire, with the obvious intention of finishing off anyone still left alive.

  Tears filled my eyes and I found it hard to breathe as I took in the dreadful scene unfolding before me.

  Suddenly, I heard my mamma’s voice shouting from behind the house; terrified screams, such as I had never heard from her before. Different men’s voices were also shouting things at the top of their voices in a foreign language and Mamma was screaming ‘Stop! Stop! You’re hurting me!’

  I crawled slowly through the undergrowth in the direction of the shouting until I reached a safe position facing the back of the house, where I didn’t think anyone would see me. The sight I saw there remains with me to this day. Four SS men had stripped my mother of all her clothing and she was struggling in vain to fight them off. They were holding her down on the ground and were taking it in turns to repeatedly rape her. I still feel an overwhelming guilt that I didn’t try to help her. But what could I have achieved against heavily armed soldiers?

  Eventually the tall blonde SS Sergeant came over and joined them in the rape as the other four stood back laughing as they watched. When he had satisfied himself, the SS Sergeant pulled out his bayonet and slit my mother’s throat. I watched her lifeblood ebb away into the brown earth, turning it red. He then dipped his bayonet in my mother’s blood and wrote something on the ground. A chill filled my whole body and paralysed me with fear. I felt an indescribable anger choking me as I tried to tear my eyes away from the horror scene before me, but I was unable to do so.

  I wasn’t sure how much time had passed before the soldiers left, but I was still there, lying in the long grass just staring through my tears at my mother’s body, when the thought came to me ‘Lisa! Where is she?” I raised my head and looked around me to see if the SS had left anyone behin
d, and seeing no one there I ran to the smouldering ruin of what was left of my house. I slowly entered and tried not to look at the carnage of what was left of my brothers’ bodies. I frantically searched around and finally my eyes fell on a sad looking pink bundle in the kitchen sink. It looked like the same colour of pink as Lisa’s dress. I walked over and recognised the dead body of my baby sister lying there with a bullet hole in her head. She had been crammed into the sink and then shot. What kinds of monsters were these tedeschi? Slowly, I reached over her small dead body and removed her gold chain and pendant from her little neck and put it in my pocket. I don’t know why I took it, perhaps as a keepsake. To this day I’m still not sure, although I did find it helpful in later life.

  I looked round at the scene of devastation that had been my home, filled with a sense of complete desolation and loss. I fell to my knees and screamed out at the top of my lungs again and again until I lost my voice and could scream no more. I felt the bile rise from my stomach and I spewed out a stream of vomit on Mamma’s once clean kitchen floor. I lay on the cool tiles for a long time, not daring to move. I didn’t want to leave the house. Where could I go to, anyway? My precious family were all dead, but as long as I was there, I didn’t have to accept that fact.

  Darkness began to creep over the mountain and it found me still lying there on the kitchen floor, still crying. Hours had passed by, but they had made no impression on me. Was I in a dream? Had it really happened?

  It was like watching a film on a cinema screen and I was the principal actor. Nothing seemed real. How could such horror be a part of life and not belong to a nightmare? How could anyone cope with seeing such things and remain sane? I thought “I will survive this; I will overcome this horror and survive. One day I will avenge my family. As for the blonde one: I will find him and I will kill him.”