And so, Madam, you now have all the time you need to be able to remember those things that according to you would be the most important, in relation to your personal experience during the Second World War period. This would really have to be more than just an interview; a kind of interior diary that you would have to narrate to yourself, the only difference being the vocal interpretation, since what we are actually more interested in knowing is your emotive and sentimental relation with the events, and not just the mere historical facts. That is to say, how one would have lived, what one remembers, what important aspects of those moments, those years and that period are worthy of being made known; and this should refer to yourself, as well as to all your dear ones.

We therefore put all this time that we have entirely at your disposal. Please feel free to speak about whatever you think would be… about how you lived through this period.

You are welcome!

Can I already start?

Well, so it was in 1939, while I was travelling from Trent to Milan, at the station of Verona, that I heard people shouting and yelling, "the war has broken out!" And this had immediately given me the sensation that something really gruesome was taking place. Then I arrived in Milan, et cetera; I had to sit for a complementary exam in History, which I was eventually able to pass. Then I got enrolled at the University - University that I went to in Pavia. In Pavia there wasn't cognition, let's say, of the times we were actually going through; the wartime wasn't felt, something of the sort. I got enrolled and prepared myself for the exams. The one that I still remember is the exam in Botany which was, I think, in the autumn of nineteen-for… 1939-1940… of 1941.

I had gone to the house of a friend, which was situated near mine, because we were studying together for the exam. Then, just as I left my friend's house and was arriving at my own - there wasn't much… much distance to cover - I suddenly heard the sound of the sirens: and no sooner had these come on, than the bombs began to drop!

It was the first time that Milan was being bombarded, and they were doing this using inflammatory bombs! There wasn't time enough for me to get back home because at that very moment… well, what was happening was really a consequence, I would say, of the fact that they had became aware of the raid only when the planes… they had activated the sirens only when the planes were already over Milan.

I was at a short distance from my house, but wouldn't have been able get there. I entered into the very first bomb shelter I happened to come across, and hurriedly stumbled down the steps. In there, everybody was screaming, praying, or simply crying. I felt really lonely, and kept saying to myself, "who knows if I will still find my house standing when I get out of here."

It was, let's say, dusk when I finally came out, and couldn't help noticing that the whole sky was red-lit as a result of all the inflammatory bombs that had been dropped. I therefore came running back to my house, but quite fortunately found that it hadn't been damaged. The house next to mine, however, was already on fire.

All this is what it means to recall that tremendous moment in which I found myself surrounded by people who could do nothing else apart from screaming and praying!

Thereafter, it would sometimes happen that while I was on my way to Pavia, I would… once in a while… when I was on the train… the air raid alarm would sound. But let's say that at Pavia I was able to manage well enough, also because; even due to the food, as it were. This was, let's say, quite a rich zone, and therefore one was able to f… to find all sorts of things, including bread flour, and without having to present a ration card. In fact I would always take advantage of this to bring some bread back home to Milan, because things in Milan were really tough.

And so it came to pass; I mean to say the mem… Oh yes! The house! The house had almost collapsed during the bombing. This explains why in 1943, following my graduation, we went… we were among the homeless people who came here to Trentino. The reason for this was that the house… I graduated in August 1943 and I spent the whole winter season here, working in a pharmacy here in Borgo. I would cycle from Castelnuovo to Borgo: practically nothing had taken place here. My brother… let's see, in 1943; yes, my brother was teaching, since the schools had been transferred to Valsugana, here in Castelnuovo, from Trent. My brother was by then studying Engineering, and so he taught Engineering at the school. My sister taught Fine Art, and I myself worked here in the Pharmacy. Then in June… no, it was in March 1943, I went back to Milan to sit for the State Qualification Exam. In that period I was able to manage through… since the house was tottering I was lived in a flat that belonged to my aunt in Como. Then in nineteen forty… in May 1944 my father was able to acquire a pharmacy, and I therefore had to remain there, while my brother and sister stayed here for a little while longer.

Another episode I am able to recall was in… in September 1943 - considering that I was already here in September; that's right. My husband who by then… my husband, who was also my cousin at the same time: we had spent a lot of time, all of us together; that is both my sister and I, as well as another cousin of ours. Then we also had these other three cousins, the Gozers, with whom we were age-mates more or less. We got along perfectly as a group, and had known each other ever since we were children. Now, my husband happened to be a soldier, and was still in Croatia on the 8^th of September. Well, I am unable to remember the exact date now, but only know that from Croatia he came… they got hold of him at Fiume and took him to Venice. From Venice he was then put on train in order to be taken to Germany. My sister, my cousin and I were on the road when we suddenly saw him appear in front of us: ‘Where are you coming from?’ we asked him. ‘Oh!’ he replied, ‘I escaped from the train, I managed… from the train that was taking me to Germany and managed to… I was given something to wear by some peasants and so was able to come up to here. However,’ he continued, ‘I cannot remain here; I don’t intend to stay on!’

He in fact had a brother, the one who afterwards died, who was by then living in Rome. He therefore said, ‘I think I will go down to Rome to see Bepi.’ And it was then that my sister, in what was truly a very touching gesture, said to him, ‘there’s my boy!’ she said, ‘you are such a darling, Tito! And once you are there, don’t forget to come back and liberate us!’ This was precisely what she had said. ‘But why, sure thing!’ he had then been replied, ‘I will come back and liberate you!’

This is one thing that has always been alive in my thoughts… I can still see him in that precise moment, in which my sister said, " don’t forget to come back and liberate us."

All this was in 1944… 1944… In 1945 I was in Milan when this took place… Well, the war came to an end. And I remember that particular day. It was early in the morning that I… Let's put it in this way: irresponsible as we were, my sister, my cousin and I had left the house very early in the morning in order to go… there still wasn't anybody out on the street, but just a few cars… some… And so we went out there into… along the roads, and after some time the streets were filled with all those colourful parades that were held, so to say.

Then I also recall… the day when Mussolini was brought to Piazza Loreto. On that day, everybody was running because it was obviously known that they were there, and therefore my sister and I decided we would go there too: the number of people that had gathered… was something quite unbelievable. And while the crowd was still there, they brought in Starace - I well remember that he was on a truck, standing on his feet, and that he was wearing a tracksuit. Then they shot him there!

Now, this was truly something… even this was something really horrifying - something one will always have to remember.

So this was 1945; and, well, I was by then working in a pharmacy and therefore remained there. Concerning the war, I would say I really don't have particularly terrible memories, in the sense that we did not actually have a direct experience. Things were quite peaceful here, and the fact is that we never had starved even at Pavia.

But there is yet another ugly aspect of the war to remember: despite the fact that I had been able to graduate, the situation had always been characterised by bombings and shootings, and it was in fact amidst these circumstances that an entire group of students were shot dead! The trains were no longer running by then, and so it had become necessary to travel from Milan to Pavia by coach. They were shot at, and all of them died; including some girls who I knew, who were obviously younger than me since by then I was already a graduate. And this was also a… something terrible to remember, as it were.

Then, as far as my husband and these cousins of mine were concerned, we hadn't even the slightest idea as to their whereabouts. Nevertheless, we had this habit of listening to the London Radio in the evenings; obviously in the most discreet silence possible, and taking care not to… not to put the volume up too high. And then I heard… we were able to hear, what do you call them… what do you call them… the… it doesn't click in my mind… the messages! The messages, that's it! I listened to this message that said, "Pellegrino Arzillo" - Now, the second name of his brother, the one they executed, happened to be Pellegrino. 'Oh!' I said, 'What a strange thing!' In fact, we still didn't know actually how these messages from London would function; and so I said, 'But, this truly must be Bepi's name!' A little while later, the following day, I heard this other one, "Rina Pipetta, well."

Now, in the days when we were at University, we used to do the… let's say, the… I am unable to recall its name now… Well, in those days I used to have this funny way of asking, 'but who is it that says…?' And so my husband had got into the habit of teasing me about it - because by then he still wasn't my husband yet! He would tease away at me saying, 'Yes, yes, it's certainly you Pipetti!' each time we had to settle down to do exercises…

When I therefore heard this message that said, "Rina Pipetti, well", I couldn't help asking, 'but who is this that…?' And immediately I said, 'no, it would have to be someone we know, this must be my husband - that is to say, Tito - who is saying these things!' and no matter whether they were said in such a strange way.

And in fact it was really him who had said those things: later on, after the war had ended, I asked him, 'were you the one who was sending those messages?' and he answered, 'yes, sure, I was the one who was sending those messages!' In this way it had therefore even been possible for us to know that was still alive, since nobody could have known anything about these things.

Well, these are some of the little, let's say… things that one will always remember. Apart from this, there was, however, also the other sad fact that immediately after - yes, after the war had ended - we realised that his brother wouldn't ever come back home again; in spite the fact that his mother and all of us would have been waiting for him, and that it had always been hoped he would return. In the end it was made known to us by another person who had been a prisoner together with him that he had died. This, I would say, was really… not only a painful memory, as it were. Yes, my brother, for example, had been called for a medical check-up by the Germans who were here - in fact he was still here by then. He had done this check-up but had fallen sick immediately after this. He had fallen sick, remained ill for about a year - he had caught a form of pleurisy - and therefore had had a lucky escape… Of course, he was almost at death's door, and had more than one occasion to say, 'well, this time I thought I was really dying…' But he nevertheless managed to escape the war, from being called-up, as it were.

As for the rest, I guess I really wouldn't know… let's say, episodes of… Oh yes! At the end of the war, that's right! At the end of the war, on the 1^st of May. I was in Milan when his brother Giovanni, who was a member of the CLN ("Comitato di Liberazione Nazionale") here in Trent, came over to Milan and afterwards returned… He was returning with Ferrandi the advocate, who was himself a member of the CLN, and they had then said to me, 'if you wish you can come up along with us.' 'Certainly!' I replied, and so we set off together. We were travelling in one of those gorgeous cars that had been requisitioned - I still remember that its entire interior was in green leather! We were near Verona when, at a certain point, we had an engine knock and the car simply came to a halt! And were still there on the road even after nightfall. There were many of those military trucks passing, but so far none of them had stopped to help us.

Finally… it was very cold since it was night time, and even if it was the 1^st of May it still was terribly cold! Finally, one of the trucks did stop and give us a lift: naturally, the truck itself was not covered, and as a matter of fact I still can remember how cold it was that night!

We arrived in Trent the following morning, and went straight to the house where the members of the CLN were had gathered. It was such a wonderful day! And then… one of the young men who were there - he must have been more or less of my same age - came up to me, held out his hand and said, 'Radiant Aurora.' 'Oh yes! Very sunny morning; it's quite a lovely day!' I replied promptly, not knowing that he had simply introduced himself using his battle name! Of course, after having discovered this, the two of us then burst out into laughter. Well, that… I recall that following this I came to Valsugana: I will always remember the tr… all those cars that were passing by on their way up… full of Germans - and naturally the ones we saw aboard these cars were all officers! It even seemed to me as if they considered themselves… judging by looks, they almost seemed to be convinced they were the victors instead of being the losers.

Then after all this, well, yes! There was my husband's return; and it was in May, that's right, when he came back up. Apart from these I don't know of any other episodes, so to say… neither of violence nor of starvation. But of course I do recall the cold, the extreme cold, because at that time the heating was… they would provide electricity for only a couple of hours per day, either towards evening or in the mornings, and just to make sure that people could cook their food, that was it. The cold was quite unbearable, and since we were then living in a street which had trees growing on both sides, during the night one wouldn't hear anything but…what a terrible noise they made! They would cut down the trees at night - otherwise what were the people supposed to have used to provide themselves with heating? And in the morning how sad it really was to see the street without even a single tree…!

Nevertheless, I don't think I really experienced traumatic moments, so to say: in fact, just as I am pointing out, no fighting took place here, and consequently the situation was rather calm. Of course the same thing didn't apply to Milan: as I am saying, there was a lot of walking to do because the trams were not functioning. From my house to the pharmacy I had… I was forced to walk for forty minutes. So that's really how things were: the lack of services and the cold; these were the real problems. I wouldn't talk about having had to starve - this certainly doesn't mean we were swimming in a sea of… but we weren't dying of hunger either.

Then came the fall of the Fascist regime. And, well, I was in Milan when this happened. Then it was quite a sight to see people shedding tears of joy and embracing one another; and even this was something that could never be forgotten. It seemed then that everybody had been born anew: people poured out into the streets, kissed each other… it wasn't any more necessary to know who you were kissing; that is exactly how things went! Everywhere you could see people destroying and pulling down the statues of the Duce, and even that, was quite a day of… happiness, that’s what I would say; of liberation – that feeling of having freed one’s shoulders from a heavy yoke; and even this was…

Then other memories still, for example… there was this classmate of mine at high school who, considering that whenever they would give us class exercises in Italian these were always about the Duce such that in the end even I myself got fed up of… Well, this girl would stubbornly refuse to write. And I later learnt that her father was Socialist, and that he had had to abandon his teaching job and was now teaching in a private school.

She would refuse to write class essays in Italian whenever these had to do with… politicians. But nevertheless, the teachers would not… they would always try to lend a helping hand by assigning to her other types of… other kinds of… essays, that’s it. And so this was another fact which made me… it made me realise that not everybody was Fascist, because even the teachers themselves had turned a blind eye to this, see what I mean? They didn’t…

Then there was also another classmate of ours who was Jewish - and therefore our high school was really… High School: never again did I see better times! By then I still hadn’t understood that there was this, let’s say, that there was this persecution against the Jews; we actually hadn’t even the time to read the newspapers! Then one fine day our friend had vanished into thin air, and so I had asked, ‘but why isn’t Miss Sacerdoti here any longer?’ Well, the only reason why she had disappeared was that she was Jewish! Then I was told that she had even been taken to a concentration camp, but that she was eventually able to survive and had returned. And even this, was one of those things that had made me to think.

Well, I believe I wouldn’t have any other… memories, so to say. And why not, sometimes happy memories as well! Like the fact we had this habit of always hanging along together, and that we had this school in which all the teachers were young people and almost all of them university students. Naturally, each one of these was later on able to pursue a brilliant career – my brother became a lecturer at the Polytechnic, and yet another of us became a lecturer in Botany at Pavia – but what matters is that we all felt very close to each other. The whole group would come together in the evening: some would sing, while others would play away on some instrument. There wasn’t very much to eat then, but one felt quite contented all the same for a piece of cheese or a chestnut. All of us were young, and we all felt we belonged together. In a nutshell, I would say it wasn’t really that terrible altogether.

Well, I seem to have narrated everything, let’s say, concerning what were our… my own emotions, the memories of… of this war. Yes, it is certainly true that afterwards very many… very many, especially among my school companions here and at Castelnuovo, much more than those at University. Very many didn’t come back for they were dead. This is really true… of my friends at University… No! Someone in fact had to leave. But there was instead an age group, of those who were born in 1920, who had not been conscripted in great numbers; not many of them had been called-up. Then there were those belonging to the age group of my brother-in-law and, well, these had been… Considering that he was really such a bright and likeable fellow, his had indeed been a very big loss for our company of friends, as well as for our age group. Humanly speaking, he truly was a… I believe he was the most intelligent of the three brothers. He was quite a distinct person, even character-wise, but had such an admirable way of getting along with the youth.

I think I have told you all that there is to say. There were happy moments; also moments of… also happy moments characterised by being able to pass time together, young as we all were. Of course there were even terrible moments, just as I was telling you, but… I don’t know, perhaps I am more inclined to recalling the happier moments than the sad ones.

It was all about passing time together, feeling close to each other and being young. It took very little to feel contented, as I was saying - just some chestnuts, a bit of cheese, some singing and some playing, and all of us would be there in the evenings. It was… it is the most treasured of memories, probably because by then we were young, I wouldn’t really know. Naturally all of us shared the same opinions: we would discuss, we would read and, what’s more, we were even far from the war; considering that its effects were, let’s say, never felt here in Trentino. In Milan, well, yes. And what then used to bother me most was when the bombing raids came: when one was forced to wake up during the night and make for the cellar, so to say; right in the middle of the night! When it was all over, one would then come out feeling terribly hungry - at least this was what would happen in my case, and which in itself was something I couldn't quite explain. Well, one would eat a piece of bread thereafter; and this of course wasn't good bread. But strangely enough, everybody here was sound and healthy! I was the person in charge of the pharmacy, and I can assure you that I never ever heard anybody complain about a cold, a stomach ache or digestion problems. Everybody was just fit like a fiddle! The only problem that there was had to do with scabies - there were quite a good number of cases spread all over the place. Then there were also people suffering from corns or whatsoever, but apart from those that have been mentioned there weren't any sicknesses around: absolutely nothing!

And so, the main problem was really the one connected with the bombing raids: of being forced to get up and go down to the cellar - maybe for an hour or two - and then having to wake up early the following morning in order to go to Pavia and catch the train. Luckily we were young by then, and therefore had not suffered… If such a thing should take place today I certainly would suffer the consequences; but by then we… Of course it was quite shock getting thrown out of bed, but such an effect was then bound to eventually disappear. I don't think I really went through any bad moments, and perhaps the only exception would be the time we became aware about the possible implications of the medical check-up that my brother had to undergo. By then we were still unable to tell how things would have worked out, and feared he would have ended up being taken to Germany, since it was the Germans who were here by that time, and not the Fascists… Therefore, the bad moments, well… they really did exist, as you know: coming up from Milan - since I happened to be down in Milan, and only my brothers were up here - coming up there were no trains, and so I had to travel on a lorry, or by whatever means was available. Then on arriving at Verona we would probably stop... a bombing raid was on, and so down we went under the station! This is what would happen. Nevertheless, the things that have remained more impressed in… let's say, more deeply, are the happier ones: the happy moments! When I think about those journeys undertaken in such an adventurous way: arriving in Verona, and perhaps not finding any trains; proceeding right up to Borghetto on foot; taking another means or a lorry! Well, it is mostly the happier moments that have remained compared to the unhappier ones. And even though we were quite anguished about the fate of my brother as I was telling you before, I was still young by then, and let's say that what therefore mattered more to me were my cousins - I think it all had to do with those intense moments of friendship, of passing time together with all these boys and girls. In other words, the secret of our friendship was the fact that we always hanged around together!

I think I have finished, I believe I have told you everything.

Yes, certainly: this was in Piazzale Loreto.

Yes.

I was there, and he had already been put on the… he had already been put there in the… how do you say… hanged; if this is what it should mean, that’s it. I was instead there the moment in which they brought Starace, who I was then able to see. There was such a huge crowd of people that it became impossible to draw closer; this was due to the multitude that there was. And so they brought in Starace on a lorry – he was standing on his feet, dressed in a tracksuit. After this they took him… I heard the shot because they executed him right there in front of everybody… It wasn’t possible to see anything, as it were, due to the crowd that there was; you just couldn’t see anything. But it was instead possible to see him when he was on the lorry, but then there also was this crowd which was something quite incredible. I saw them, watching everything from a distance – now, you shouldn’t think I somehow managed to pass from under, for nobody would have been able even just to move… Yes, yes I was there… It wasn’t anything good to be seen, quite naturally. But as you know, people were on the move by then: just the time enough for them to get the news, and they were already there. Nevertheless… well, what made the most impression on me was exactly when they brought Starace there: you could certainly tell that the guy was alive as yet, but, at the same time, you also knew what kind of end awaited him shortly afterwards, and this really made a tremendous impression on me!

Then… I don’t know; but I think I will have told you everything.

A pharmacist, that’s right.

They were all in good health!

They were all in good health. Look, I was here just because I was a graduate and had passed the State Qualification Exam, that is the reason why I was here. They were all suffering from scabies! And since the ointment by then in use had to be derived from pig fat, one would say, ‘if it were possible, could you kindly bring us some pig fat?’ Well, the pharmacist would then keep part of this for himself, and use the rest for producing the ointment. Anyway, the whole lot of them had corns, backaches or scabies. And this was the same even in Milan. I then used to have… they used to give me a… every pharmacist would be given a certain quantity of sugar in order to produce syrup – of course by then the level of specialisation was not as it is today. To my great surprise, however, I was even able to save entire lumps of sugar. Therefore, everybody here was alright: there wasn’t even a single person who had a cough – and this should explain why I was able to save all that sugar! Indeed, no one had a cough, no one had a stomach-ache, no one had intestinal problems, and not a single person suffering from even a cold - having had to bear with the very low temperatures both outside and inside… Not even a cold could break the rule: their state of health was really something incredible! The only exception to this had been my brother, who had fallen ill because he was affected by pleurisy.

Nevertheless, looking at things, let say, from a general point of view… well, medications… and not… the people themselves… Nowadays everybody has diabetes, but would you believe me if I told you that only two of my clients of the time were diabetics? Today everybody is diabetic! I don’t actually know whether it was for the food or something else, but the fact remains that only these two were the most serious cases – truly poor devils they really were, and I eventually did my best to make sure that every single vial of insulin available would go to them. However, what I am actually saying is that not even from diabetes did anybody suffer then - whereas today people are all diabetics! Stable good health is what was characteristic in those days, and I can assure you that each time I think about it I can't help telling myself, "can you even imagine that by then curing scabies only meant selling plasters and ointment!"

Things therefore were quite the same even here; I mean to say the same situation in Milan was to be found even here.