27th September, 1965, San Camillo Hospital, Rome, Second Kingdom of Italy
Montpellier had fallen. At the cost of a million and half lives. "Disaster had been avoided. All of Europe could've fallen if not for the bravery of the Axis Union's soldiers."
Anto turned the TV off. "Fool. The grass there is as black as the fires of hell. The bodies stacked deeper than the grave."
A knock at the door. "Er..is this Capitano Castillo?", the voice sounds shaken. "Sì. Come in.", Anto answered.
The door opened. "Capitano. I am the mother of Otto Valer. I have come with questions about my son. What happened to him at Montpellier?"
The whole horrible ordeal came flooding back to Anto. As crippling as his bullet wounds. So many deaths he could've prevented. Had he not been so weak.
"He...he...he's", Anto muttered. "He's dead....", with this he held his head in his hands. Emotionally crushed . "I'm so sorry, Signora. I'm a coward!" The woman looked at Anto horrified. "My young Otto..how could this happen....so...tell me Capitano...did he serve well?"
"Yes. Yes..yes he did. Forgive me.", Anto said wiping his tears away. Goddamn it! He thought. I am weaker than a woman! Even a child!
The next day, there was another knock at the door. It was Doctor Aiginizzi. "Anto, you have two guests."
"Come in.", the door opened. And in it stood stood figures. His father and grandfather. "Grandfather Federico, Father...what are you doing here?"
His grandfather laughed. "Anto..we've come to show our support for you. By telling you our own stories.", Grandfather Federico said, his walk trembling, as a man of 77. He sat down. "Arlo, would you like to go first?", he asked. Arlo Castillo shook his head.
"Anto. I think I can sympathize with you. The entire Isonzo front ...", Federico lost his concentration, remembering the constant shelling. Death charges, and executions preformed on fellow soldiers that were dished out by that incompetent shell of a man, Cadorna. "He was so foolish, the Generalissimo. So many men, more than the Austrians got a hold of in fact, died by his hand."
Anto looked up. "What? What do you mean, Grandfather?"
"I need to provide context, Anto. Do you know how Cadorna got ahold of the Italian Army? He was a political weasel. He took all the power he could. He was given command of the Armata d'Italia as opposed to the sovereign. So in 1915, we attacked on the Isonzo River, trying to wedge the Austro-Hungarian forces from the country. We had success at first but then..."
Anto was invested in the story by now. "Then what?"
"Then we stopped. We had twice the men. Yet we were stopped as the bombs and guns went off around us. They pushed us from our territory in days. We had lost 14,000 men by the end of it all. Cadorna thought..that our morale was what stopped us. So..to my horror. He started executing us. And I was among the first to be chosen to gun down my compatriots."
Anto was stunned. Simply stunned. Even though the memoirs of Wilhelm Von Kaisertum told similar tales....how could a man wish others to kill their friends?
"I'm sorry..Grandfather. I want to resume my teaching career. I don't think I'll be able to serve in the Italiano Esercito. Not for a while."
"I understand, Cucciolo del guerriero."
The next day, Anto was discharged from frontline duty.
YOU ARE READING
Teufelslied: Italia
Historical FictionThis alternate history, told from multiple perspectives, is set during the events of Red War, in which communist insurgents from Spain, Germany, China and Korea have overthrown the Japanese government and hope to destroy the German Reich. As the Red...
