A Bell for Adano

by John Hersey

  The Colonel named Ham said: “That’s right, I guess “No sir, I’m damned if I’ll root around and find a bell for this goddam sponger of an Englishman. Where the hell does he think I’m going to find a seven-hundredyear-old bell? No sir, Ham, I won’t do it. Write a letter to this Major, will you, Ham?”

  “Yes sir, what’ll I say?”

  “Lay it on, dammit, tell him the U.S. Army doesn’t have a stock of seven-hundred-year-old bells, tell him he should realize there is a war on, tell him to watch out for these goddam Englishmen or they’ll take the war right away from us.”

  “Yes sir.”

  Chapter 24

  MAJOR JOPPOLO enjoyed his afternoons as judge, partly because he liked to see the happy effect of real justice on the people of Adano, and partly because Gargano, the Chief of Carabinieri, acted out every crime as if it were a crime against himself.

  Major Joppolo’s trials were impressive, because he managed, by trickery, by moral pressure and by persuasion, to make the truth seem something really beautiful and necessary.

  “The truth, I want the truth now, not next week,” he would say, and the accused would find himself telling the truth and discarding the elaborate lie he had devised.

  Trials began at about three in the afternoon, each Monday.

  Gargano brought in the first culprit, one Monday afternoon, and as he led him in, he said: “We will take the light cases first.”

  “You have some serious cases, then?” Major Joppolo asked.

  Gargano held up his forefinger, and said angrily: “One.”

  “Then maybe our fines will be high this week,” the Major said. He thought he was joking, but he had become almost miserly on behalf of Adano, and each Monday afternoon he used to try to see how much he could net in fines.

  “I hope so,” said Gargano, vehemently. Then he said: “First case.”

  The Major took the name, age, birthplace and sex of the accused and had Giuseppe make him swear that he would tell the Italian counterpart of the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Gargano read the accusation. The man had made a public nuisance of himself while drunk.

  The Major questioned the man. He was poor, where did he get money to drink with? From his wife. Where did she get it? From the Public Assistance. Did the man not know that it was very degrading to get drunk on charity? He did, but the pleasure offset the degradation. Did the man plead guilty or not guilty? Guilty. “Very well,” the Major said; “I see you’re too poor to pay a fine. I will give you your choice of losing the Public Assistance money for two months or going to jail for one.”

  Without hesitation the man chose losing the Public Assistance.

  “If that choice is so easy,” the Major said, “you don’t need the Public Assistance at all.” And he directed Gargano to have him taken off the list.

  “Second case,” Gargano said.

  This was the case of a woman who was accused of selling goat’s milk both overprice and underweight. The woman denied everything. The Major told her he wanted the truth, and that she would make out better if she were honest than if she were not. All right, she said, she had sold a little bit underweight. The Major said he would call in the woman to whom she had sold the milk and question her, and if the accused were lying, he would triple the fine. All right, she said, she also sold the milk overprice, for eight lire instead of six. This woman looked just as poor as the man in the first case, but her error was far more serious. The Major fined her three thousand lire, to be paid within a week.

  The third case was a theft. A peasant was accused of having stolen some cigarets from an Army bivouac near his farm. Major Joppolo asked him to tell his side of the story. He said that some soldiers had given him one carton of cigarets, which he put under this jacket, and that he then started home. Major Joppolo called up the bivouac and got the Army story, which was that the man had stolen two cartons and some C Rations. The Major then made his speech about the truth, and by a series of adroit questions got the man to admit everything. Major Joppolo gave the man a fine of a hundred lire and a lecture.

  When the theft had been disposed of, Gargano stood up and said: “And now the important case.”

  The case which Gargano considered serious was the case of Errante and his mule cart.

  Errante was sworn in. The Major asked for the accusation. Gargano pushed Errante to one side and stood before the Major.

  “Honorable Mister Major,” he began, “this is a case of interference with the American military. I consider it one of the most serious we have yet had to handle.”

  The Major said: “That is for me to judge, Gargano. What is the accusation?”

  Then Gargano told, or rather acted out, the story of how Errante Gaetano’s cart had blocked traffic on Via Umberto the First. Gargano the Two-Hands leaped and swore and shook his two fists at Errante, and he made Zito act as the mule, and he attacked Zito fiercely, and then he reeled back from sham blow after sham blow. He did not ask anyone to act out the part of Errante, but let his own dodging and staggering give the idea.

  He painted a terrible picture of the unknown but possible consequences of Errante’s holding up the procession of amphibious trucks. He himself seemed to die several times as he imagined the deaths of American boys which resulted from the bone-headedness of this cartman.

  Gargano went on to show how Errante had defied authority and had tried to make it ridiculous in the eyes of the people. He stepped to one side and acted out the part of the people, giggling at authority because of the rudeness of this cartman.

  He wished to impress on the Major that this cartman’s crime was doubly serious because it all took place in the full view of fifty-odd children. What kind of idea of law and authority would these children grow up with? As he put this point across Gargano himself ran up and down shouting for caramels.

  He wound up by attacking Zito again, staggering some more, giggling on behalf of the people, and pointing to the ceiling as he swore by the Heavenly God that he had never been so humiliated in his life.

  It was clear to Major Joppolo from this exposition that the seriousness of this crime was closely bound up in Gargano’s mind with the embarrassment of Gargano. He asked for the cartman’s story, and he let Errante tell just as long a story as Gargano had, even though his own mind was already made up on the case. Errante’s slow, painful story was a beautiful thing to hear, and yet it was tragic. It was the story of any Italian peasant who had lived so many years in the realm of fear.

  “I am poor, Mister Major,” he began. “I have a cart. A cart is all I have.”

  He looked around the room and thought.

  “My wife died of the malaria,” he said. “My wife was a serious woman. She did not laugh for eighteen years. However, she cooked rabbit well. She died of the malaria.”

  Errante paused again. His mind had to reach out for each memory.

  “I do not like the place where I live. I have to brush the goat droppings aside each night before I lie down. It is crowded living with four goats in my room. It is not as crowded as it was before the invasion. Five other goats were killed by the bombardment. I was sorry that they were killed, but I look at it this way: there are less droppings to brush away at night.”

  The cartman paused for a long time. Gargano muttered: “Come to the point, stupid one.”

  Major Joppolo said: “Tell it as you wish, cartman.” Errante said: “I still do not understand why they shot my mule. I was asleep on the cart. Perhaps it was because I had had too much to drink. But that is a fault common among cartmen, and I have not heard of any other mules being shot. To say nothing of the necessity of repairing the right wheel of my cart. I do not understand it, Mister Major.”

  Major Joppolo realized for the first time that this man was the victim of General Marvin’s rage. There was nothing he could say to the cartman to explain, but then, Errante did not seem to expect the Major to explain.

  He went on: “There are many things I do not understand, Mister Major. W
hen I was young, I was handsome. At least that is what my wife, who was able to laugh then, told me. Why am I ugly now, Mister Major? That is something I cannot understand. What has happened to my face?”

  He stopped and thought. “My son looked well in his uniform,” he said. “That is, he looked well before he was killed. After he was killed, he looked badly. He had no legs and he only had half a head. That is what his Captain told me. Was it necessary for his Captain to tell me all that?”

  Gargano burst out: “We are trying the case of a cartman who blocked military traffic. Must we listen to this kind of talk, Mister Major?”

  Major Joppolo said: “Yes, Gargano, I think we must. It is my opinion that what the cartman is saying is relevant to his case.”

  “You are the judge,” Gargano said, with both hands in the air, in resignation.

  The Major said: “Go on, cartman.”

  Errante said: “I do not like this man. It seems to me that he waves his hands too much. God gave us tongues to talk with. For several years I have not liked this man. I have never liked him since the day he spat in the face of my wife. That was long after she had stopped laughing.”

  The cartman turned then away from the fuming Gargano to the Major. After a pause he said: “I ate a watermelon the other day. It was the first fresh fruit I had eaten since the disembarkation. I stole it. All the good things are being sold to the Americans at high prices. There is not much left for a cartman except goat’s milk.

  With every good there is an evil. With goat’s milk one has to accept goat droppings.”

  He paused and said: “With Americans I suppose one has to accept hunger.”

  He paused for a long time. Then he said: “At that, hunger is better than some other things. I would like to have heard my wife laugh again.”

  After another pause he said: “It seems to me that I have heard more laughter since the disembarkation. This is especially true among the children. You see, I have been trying to think out what made me stop and listen to the children the other afternoon, when I did not notice the Swimming War.”

  “The what, cartman?”

  “I call them Swimming War. They are American vehicles which swim.”

  “Amphibious trucks, yes, go ahead.”

  “Among the children there is more laughter. There is something else among the children which I never noticed before, too. In that crowd of them the other afternoon the thin child of Erba was holding the hand of the little Cacopardo. I do not know if you realize what that means, Mister Major. Erba is a cartman like me, only more stupid, Mister Major. Everyone knows the name of Cacopardo.”

  “Yes, I know they are rich,” the Major said.

  “I am almost as stupid as Erba, Mister Major, but I have noticed something. The things that children do are right on top of the children, and easy to see. The same things in older people lie deep down inside. Therefore at anv time what you see happening among the children is also happening among the older ones, only you cannot see it, since it is deep. I mean the laughing, and the holding of hands. And yet - “

  Errante Gaetano paused. This time it did not look as if he would come out of the pause. He frowned. “And yet what, cartman?”

  “And yet I still do not understand why they shot my mule. This need for sitting in jail I can understand: I simply did not notice the Swimming War, and I am sorry I got in its way. But about the mule that was shot, there is no explanation.”

  At this moment Major Joppolo hated General Marvin with a bitter flash of hatred. He said: “Yes, cartman, there is an explanation. It isn’t a very good one, I know. You are a student of human nature, I can see that. You must have noticed that human beings often make mistakes. The shooting of your mule was a terrible mistake by one human being. I am very sorry that he happened to be an American.”

  Errante scratched his back and said: “If it was a mistake, well, if it was a mistake…” And tears came into his eyes.

  Major Joppolo covered up this embarrassment by saying to Gargano: “We are going to have to dismiss this case, Gargano. I regret that it caused you embarrassment. But after what this man has said, could you see any justice in punishing him?”

  Gargano protested: “American soldiers might have been killed by the delay.”

  The Major said: “I doubt it, Gargano. All he was guilty of was being too interested in the children’s laughter.”

  Errante had recovered from his moment of emotion. He said: “There is more laughter. I think my wife would have laughed at my description of this man” - he looked at Gargano -”talking about my cart. It is too bad she died of the malaria. Now that you Americans are here, I think she would have laughed. In spite of the mistake about the mule. Yes, I think so, Mister Major.”

  Chapter 25

  “WELL, here’s what happened,” Major Joppolo was saying. The other people in Tomasino’s living room were laughing and talking loudly, but Tina and the Major paid them no attention.

  “When the batch of prisoners came in last week, they had a new kind of paper. All it said was: `For release at p.w. cage nearest bearer’s home,’ and it was signed by somebody at Ninth Corps. Well, we wanted to check and make sure because we hadn’t heard anything about letting all the Italian prisoners loose.

  “So I wrote a note to this guy at Ninth Corps, and I got his answer this morning. He said there was a new policy, they’d decided that it would be best for the morale of the people if we let the Italian prisoners free. He said the risk we might run of letting out a few fanatical officers who would continue to work for the Germans would be offset by the good that would be done for most towns.”

  Tina said excitedly: “When will you let them free?” The Major said: “We have to sort them out, and send them to the prisoners’ cage nearest to where they live. We have quite a bunch from Vicinamare that we have to send up there. It will take about a week, I guess.”

  Tina said: “Have you been to the enclosure recently?” The Major said: “Yes, I was there today.”

  “Are there several men from Adano there?” “Yes, quite a few, I understand.”

  “Oh, Mister Major, did you talk with any?” “Yes, I did.”

  “You didn’t happen - ?”

  “He’s not here, Tina. I looked for his name on the list. Also I asked some of the men from Adano. They said they had not heard anything. I went down to the cage specially to find out.

  Tina said: “You are very kind, Mister Major.”

  He said: “I was very rude before.” He wanted to tell her why he had been rude -that there are certain things a lonely man doesn’t like to listen to, that he had begun to like Tina, and that he didn’t like the feeling of being used by her just to get something she wanted. But he didn’t. He didn’t because she pulled him up short.

  She said: “Do you think my Giorgio is in one of the other prisoners camps?

  The Major said: “There’s no way of telling,” and his voice was suddenly cool.

  “When will I know?”

  “Next week some time. I’ve told you all I can. I shouldn’t have told you this much.”

  j”Be careful,” Tina said, and her smile teased the Maor, “you are getting rude again.”

  The Major smiled too. “I could tell you why, but I won’t,” he said.

  Chapter 26

  MAJOR JOPPOLO’S desire for popularity in Adano stuck out all over him. It was not just that he wanted to do a good job, and felt that popularity was one sign that he had. It was not much tied up with wanting the Americans to be well received, though he did want that. It was mainly that he himself wanted very much to be liked.

  He did not let this desire show itself blatantly, in back-slapping and flattery and other usual means of achieving popularity. He was not especially a politician. But in everything he did, in every decision he made, he was swayed just a little by the way that act would affect his popularity in the town.

  By the same token, in everything that the town did, or the officials of the town, Major Joppolo hunted ou
t little signs that he was liked, and watched vigilantly for warning signals that this thing or that thing was making him disliked.

  For this reason it made him uneasy, one morning, to have the usher Zito come to him and say that all the officials of the town wished to have a conference with him some time that morning. He wondered if they wanted to express their displeasure at something he had done.

  He said: “Right now, Zito, if they can all come in now.

  So in a few minutes they began coming in. As usual Bellanca the Mayor came in first, and it seemed to the Major that the old man’s eyes, which were sad from his years of conflict with bad men, were even sadder than usual. D’Arpa the vice mayor came next, walking fast and somehow low, like a weasel, and his little animal eyes looked sad to the Major too. The Major scanned each face as it approached him: the face of Tagliavia the Maresciallo of Finance, looking prosperous but worried, the Major thought; of Panteleone, the Municipal Secretary, looking unctuous but perhaps a little less unctuous than usual, the Major thought; of the pearshaped volunteer health officer, Signora Carmelina Spinnato, too efficient and fat to have any expression with meaning in it; of Rotondo, the lieutenant of Carabinieri, blank as a wall; and of Saitta, the man concerned with cleaning up the town, himself the cleanest man in town, a face scrubbed with pumice until it shined but even in its cleanliness a little sadder than usual, the Major imagined. The face of Gargano the Two-Hands especially concerned Major Joppolo, for he knew that he might have offended the Chief of Carabinieri in the trial of Errante. And indeed, Gargano did seem to look a little severe.

  Honest old Bellanca was spokesman for. the group. He said: “We have something to ask of you, Mister Major: ‘

  “I’ll try to oblige you,” Major Joppolo said. “You may not like it,” the old man said.