GerIta 1943

7

                It did not take very long afterwards for the Allies to defeat Japan; while Italy and I were not permitted to see our friend, America did tell us with a weary expression on his face of the bombing, and the pain it caused.

                It was after this that the war truly ended, and we were to part our separate ways.

                I watched my brother being dragged away in chains, head held low, behind a widely smiling Russian; I watched Italy seeing his brother-looking unscathed, but obviously physically shaking-for the first time in a long time, without either trying to kill the other; I saw the difference in the tears shed by both, and I felt my mangled heart break at this further hurt for my fragile sweetheart.

                And I disconnectedly noticed America draw closer to me, felt his light touch on my elbow, and I followed him along, as if I were a floating ghost with him being my only tether to the earth, offering him no resistance.

                It would be many years before I saw my beautiful, precious Feliciano, who had fought so hard in every sense of the word-not even noting the actual battles of the war-and who had persevered despite his obvious wounds-physically, mentally, emotionally.