Arriving home to Sambiase brought mixed emotions. I was happy to be home with my family and to the home I loved, but I had to start thinking about a future too. For the time being I decided to spend some time relaxing with my family, revisiting my home town and reflecting on what I had been through in the war.

I walked to Nicastro three kilometres away. I could have taken the bus or one of the horse and buggies that service the two towns, but I wanted to walk on this stretch of road which I had walked since I was ten years old. I wanted to walk there, buy some sweet luppini (a yellow bean soaked in salted water, the centre being the edible part), chestnuts or prickly pears where the woman selling them would cut it open for you to pick the sweet fruit inside. This was a nicer town with more shops of better quality, a small hospital, council offices and even a house of ‘ill repute’.

I bought a pair of trousers, shirts, under wear and shoes so I could be a decent human being again. On my way back home about a kilometre from town I stopped to have a look at a big vineyard and villa protected by a high wall and an iron gate. It reminded me of a property owner I knew of when I was about seven years old—Michelangelo Murone was his name. He was the patriarch of the Murone family who all lived in a four storey building opposite our house. Michelangelo would take me for walks to carry a container with food for his cats. He was old at that time and very gentle and he liked me a lot.  Three married sons and their families lived in this big palazzo obscuring the sun from us. When I arrived home again I found some relatives waiting for me that started asking me so many questions. But the last three months had been a terrible time for me and they could not believe their ears of what l was telling them.

I lived each precious day at home to the fullest because I knew my time at home was limited. I was still a member of the La Regia Marina (The Royal Italian Navy) and soon I would be expected to report to the Navy office at Vibomarina. Sure enough, one evening the Carabinieri – the Italian police - paid me a visit with reporting orders which put an end to my stay. Next morning with my brother’s bike I made my way to Vibo’s Navy base twenty kilometres away. When I arrived I had a job-and-a-half to convince the officer in charge why I’d been away so long. He listened to my whole story but asked so many silly questions, writing everything down on my report, “like it or not”. When all the papers were signed I went to look around the nice little town by the sea. And after I had a drink and some food I made my way back home. I finally reached my house after a tiring bike trip in the late afternoon.

The next day I was on a train direct for Taranto where the Navy depot was. On the train this time there was plenty of space on the seats and for once I felt good and rested. On arrival a taxi took me to the depot situated at the outskirt of the old city among vineyards. I had been in this city before while on board the Montecuccoli, but we never stayed very long, leaving always under the cover of darkness. So I’ll never know where this depot was. Soon I will be in navy uniform again, I thought. At the entrance I presented my documents to the Sergeant in charge and he organized for me to get my new uniforms. The next day I was called to the Commander’s office where I had to tell him the story again of my six months adventure. He wrote everything down asking only a few questions and he did not seem surprised much; maybe because others before me had told him the same sad story. The next day I received my uniforms, had them adjusted to my size and I was ready for duty again. I was called to the paymaster’s office to get an advance on my pay until they could work out the six months due to me.

At the depot it was a life of leisure, most involving cleaning duties. Except now I was supervising four or five sailors doing the work. The Germans by now were withdrawing to the north of Rome destroying everything they could to vent their frustration. The war was near the end and Germany’s cities were being bombarded day and night by the U S air force. The German soldiers and Mussolini’s ‘black shirts’ were pushed into retreating to the north. Most of the ex Italian soldiers regrouped to form the partisans fighting force, now very strong that at one time had saved my life.

In town one evening I discovered the great variety of different nationalities of soldiers walking about: Australians, Canadians, Africans, New Zealanders from England’s colonies. American soldiers were on leave in town too. You had to be very careful and avoid trouble since Italians soldiers in particular were known to have switched sides. On one occasion there was a fistfight on the street. So many soldiers got involved that it became one big human heap in which I was able to escape from underneath.

At the depot I met some paseani, like Sam Sesto, his brother Frank and others, and we went out in the town and had a good time together often. In this period this city was a very busy place and on one occasion I like to mention, Sam and I one day decided to visit the ‘house of love’. We had to queue for half hour before we could get in with a very tired woman inside and in no mood for anything.

Six months went by at the depot and then I received a transfer order to the marina district in Rome, the quarters of the personnel working for the Headquarters of the Navy Department. But first they sent me on leave for two weeks. So back I went to Sambiase, in summer this time. I made few trips to San Sidero to enjoy the country open air, and I went to the beach for a swim and just relaxed with my family. I could see that my brother had not been looking after our property very well, but there was not much I could do at this stage. And my mother was getting weaker, so I took her on  trips to the country which she enjoyed as it gave her a chance to get out of the town.

I’d like to mention that in the early years of my life we had kerosene lamps for lighting and then we got connected to electricity from the house of Aunt Elisabeth D’elia, my father’s side relative. She lived at the back of our house attached to us by the same wall, so all we had to do drill a hole and put the wires through, and pay half each for the electricity bill. Not legal but handy. At the time there where no cars to worry about in our town. Early in the morning people went to their property by walking or by bike, horse and buggy, donkeys, and after a day’s time they went back home.

Two weeks went by soon enough and now I was on my way to navy duties in the capital city of Italy, Rome. Travelling on the train in this period was an experience, especially the trains from Sicily to Naples. When they arrived to our station, they were usually already filled, all the seats taken by passengers and some gangs bringing goods to the black market in Naples. I was carrying olive oil and all I could manage. Thankfully a thoughtful passenger moved to make a corner space for me to put down my bags.

In the other carriage in front, there were a couple of false policeman on guard at the entrance that would not let anyone in, saying that they had prisoners inside. At Naples station most of the so-called prisoners came out with bags and valises full of goods. Now I was able to get a seat up to Rome where a taxi took me to my destination twenty minutes away.

As soon as I saw the quarters with trees round it, I though it looked friendly enough. At the entrance the Sergeant on duty took my papers and a sailor guided me to the dormitory where there was a wardrobe and a bed for me and after a shower and a change of clothes I was ready to present myself to the officer on duty. Soon I noticed that there were not many sailors round at this time of the day and I was told that they were on duty at the Navy Department offices. After I put away my belongings and made my bed, I dressed in winter uniform, signed off at the entrance’s office and went out.

I liked the feeling of freedom in this place. I started walking, the direction was not important. I came to a crossing where a tram was stopped and I got in. I took a seat next to a window and relaxed, looking around at everything, but my mind was far away. Then I remembered that Luigi was here at the University to study with other paesan friends. I stayed on the tram until I came to a beautiful Park where I got out and walked around for a while. Then I bought an ice cream. To some kids I asked the name of the park. ‘Giannicolo’ they told me. It was not very far from the river Tevere, so I went for a stroll enjoying the air, the flowers and the statues everywhere. I came to a big empty space and not very far could be seen the Vatican buildings.

I feel ashamed to say that this was the first time I’d seen in person the beauty that was now in front of me. When there are people around the world that come here from far away to see this famous Church. Before I could decide my next move, my watch told me to go back. Just as well because when I arrived the evening meal was on. But first I had to go to the office to find out which table I had to sit at. After the meal the sailors on duty stay behind to bring everything in the kitchen to a big dishwashing machine. Then the department’s office personnel would change and go out, like a separate unit.

Life in the navy now was much better for me. As a wounded Sotto Capo war veteran (second-in-charge and senior to the other sailors) I did not have too many duties to perform. I had a squad at my command for cleaning duty starting at 900 hours to look after some dormitories.

The active war for me had passed. But in Italy we were still fighting to get rid of the Germans. Now only few big brass fascists were hanging on Mussolini’s skirts, while a German special squad was trying to save the Duce’s skin by taking him to the island of Corsica and then flying him to Germany.

The rest of Il Duce’s fascists had changed their colours. Gone was the arrogance of these people now dressed in civilian clothes and scared for their life.

So I was going along nicely now, writing to my mother often and sending her some money.

Soon as I had the chance I went to visit Luigi (fifteen minutes away by taxi) and he was very pleased and happy that I was stationed in Rome. He wanted to know about my navy life, but I told him that it was too long to tell over a cup of coffee, and that I would next time. He told me about some of his life story and how he was getting on with his study.

Luigi Zaffina and other paseani were living near by. They had financial backing from their parents to get a university diploma. For me on the other hand it had been a battle all my life to get some education. We went to the cinema to enjoy each other’s company after such a long time.

Since I was stationed so close to Head Office I spent my time solving some of my problems, like looking after my injuries for which I received a war pension. During that time I was also awarded the war service decorations due to me.

I was informed that in two month’s I was to be promoted from Warrant Officer to Sergeant changing my status in the navy. Now I was getting more familiar with everything and I started to find my way around a lot easier in town. Later on I took some days off to visit important places.

The war was still on in Germany, where the American bombs rained from the sky night and day and the Russians from the east were pushing deeper.

The other day we had news that Mussolini and his lover Clara Petacci had been caught trying to escape through the Alps by the Partisans. Il Duce was dressed as a German soldier; the truck he was hiding was full of boxes containing jewels, gold, money and the rest.

A few days later Mussolini and Petacci were shot and strung by they feet to a fence for everyone to see. This was the end of our Duce—a leader who took a gamble with Hitler and lost, taking Italy with him into a disastrous war.

In Rome three hundred people including women, old men, and children were killed by the Germans just because two of their soldiers were found dead. The murdered civilians were buried in a pit. The Roman citizens built a Mausoleum in honour of the victims with all their names for families and tourist to visit.

Military life was easy. We had plenty of food, while all over Italy in post wartime food was very hard to get. Rations were under strict control and you needed coupons and had to wait in queues for hours. 

My pay was better than an ordinary sailor now and I was helping my mother a lot.

Finally in April 1945 my name was in the Navy Gazette for the promotion to Sergeant, changing my status to Warrant Officer. I had better pay, different responsibilities and privileges, and different sleeping quarters.

A few weeks later I was appointed in charge of the Warrant Officer’s bar which was a recreational venue where you could relax with a soft drink or a cappuccino. You could play cards and billiards, but gambling was never allowed. On special occasions we would organize a dancing party and invite girl friends.

Now I had a special pass to go out any time because I had to organize to buy whatever we needed for the bar. So I was seeing Luigi more often and helping him with food too.

In this period I got very friendly with the sewing mistress Lynette. She was in charge of a work shop where we brought our uniforms to be adjusted to our size. We had a friendly relationship and enjoyed each other’s company and she often came to our parties. I started learning to dance.

One day I decided to visit the Vatican so took a day off. I picked up Lynette and away we went. But you need more than one day to see some of these marvellous places.

St Peter’s marble statue was at the entrance and his feet were wearing away from all the millions of kisses from people passing through.

Inside you could spend so much time looking at the beautiful gifts donated by kings and the richest people in the world in the hundreds of years gone by. Lynette had been here before, having been born in Rome, and so was not as carried away as I was. We suddenly realised that it was almost midday so we walked out into the Plaza sunshine to a kiosk where we bought some refreshments.

The next time we visited the Vatican together, we climbed up to the top of the dome. Lynette said on a clear day you could see all of Rome. To climb Michelangelo’s Dome and down again takes all day and it is full of tourists all the time.

In this period I joined a private school nearby to study accountancy in which I always had been interested from my tender years. Now I had my opportunity for a good education so to begin with I signed up for one year. When I had my class, I would walk there, take lessons then do my assignments in my naval quarters. I’d never had an opportunity like this before so I was very keen to improve my education.

Sometimes I just wanted to lose myself in town. The weather was beautiful in mid summer, so after briefing the second-in-charge at the club I went out. I took a tram which they called ‘circular’ because it circles the city centre in half an hour, and soon found myself in front of Villa Borgese, the largest botanic gardens in Rome.

The gardens were full of tourists already. I started walking, admiring everything: the beautiful garden statues, fountains, and man-made grottos at the base of some hills. Today I was in luck because there was a film crew set up there and I witnessed them shooting a scene with Amedeo Nazzari, one of the best actors in Italy.

Nazzari was supposed to be the owner of a big farm. Caught in a storm he finds his way on his horse to a cave where an old farm-hand comes out to greet him, and lead him inside.

Beforehand the film crew had installed a big fan to make the wind and some bushes for special effect; a fireman with a water hose was ready to make the rain, and they also positioned some spotlights for the proper lighting. In the few minutes from when Nazzari arrived and went into the cave, it was all over. The director called “cut” and that was it.

Navy life was now okay. The war was far away from my mind. I was carrying out my duties at the club; buying what was needed, organizing parties, keeping the books up to date and so on.

Now I was visiting Luigi more often. And going out with Lynette to dances in which I was improving and having a good time.  I planned another visit to the Vatican Dome and the Sistine chapel, where Michelangelo spent so much time painting. It is a must see when in Rome.

I visited also other special places, but there are too many in Rome to see them all.

On 15th August 1945, the Second World War was finally over. Italy found itself on the losing side and the winners, same as in all the wars, divided what was left of our war ships. Some went to England, some to U.S.A., some to France and what was left over to Russia. We were left with a few of the oldies. After five years of killings and destruction the survivors were left to rebuild everything again.

We knew the U.S.A. had atomic bombs and that the power of one bomb could destroy all of beautiful Roma City. They had already destroyed two Japanese cities to force them to surrender.

The Navy officials decided to send me for two weeks leave. It was summer when I got home so I went many times to the beach by bicycle, to our beautiful Mediterranean sea, diving from the pier used for small cargo ships loading wine. In Rome I visited the Piazza di Spagna the Colosseum, Cinecitta, Castel Saint Angelo and more.This was the best holiday I ever had, but it was cut short when the Navy office recalled me to my post in Rome. I just had time to organize myself and say goodbye to Lynette who became very upset about my leaving. Then I said goodbye to Luigi and the others and fixed my clothes for travelling again. When I reported to the Central Office the Commanding Officer told me I was to board the battleship Andrea Doria (one of two Duilio class ships, 187 metres in length).

. He said as a Warrant Officer it was my duty.

I have to say that this period in Rome of almost two years were the best of my Navy career. I had time to improve myself in so many ways. Managing the club had been an experience that would come very handy one day. I had seen so much of this special city of Rome and I had been able to get a certificate in accountancy from the private school.

From the office in Rome I travelled to Taranto, and in the evening a taxi took me to the Taranto pier and the boarding entry of the huge Andrea Doria. The Andrea Doria was an old model battle-ship and had really seen her days. She was not like these modern American war ships and aircraft carriers, but she was very impressive just the same. She had two towers of big calibre guns at the stern and two at the bough. Four small-calibre towers stood on each side for fighting enemy airplanes, and there were also many smaller anti-area machine guns. The Andrea Doria and another similar ship were left in our charge, as well as some smaller war ships.

After going through the same routine that I had gone through so many times before, the officer on duty after checking all my papers got a sailor to help me and show me the way to the warrant officer’s quarters where I found an empty spot. I fixed my things, had a shower, a change of clothes and I felt much better. I wrote a letter to mother telling her about this new transfer.

The next day I was called at the office and they explained to me my new duties. I was going to be in charge of the number two anti-area tower with a crew of four sailors. We had to keep it clean and oiled every morning and we had to exercise before our other duties. I could not visualize all this, since the war was over and lost and the majority of us had been sent home. But those were the orders. When I could I would climb into the tower to relax and read a book because experience told me not to hang around in the open doing nothing. Slowly I was getting used being around this big ship, much different to when I was on board the cruisers in wartime with strict discipline and us young sailors from Navy school full of enthusiasm.

Now and then we would go on a mission around Italy, exercise with the guns and stop here and there at different ports. One time we visited  Genoa. I’d been to Genoa before with the Navy school and we’d visited the Ansaldo factory where they made the guns for war ships. This time at Genoa twenty junior sailors came aboard the Andrea Doria to get familiar with ship life, and they were accompanied by some civilians visiting out of interest. In the afternoon a new friend and I went on leave in town. After a visit to the girls we went to look around some of Genoa’s important and historic places. Travelling long distances or even locally you always had to be on the alert. Even small boys could trick you easy enough, coached by their parents in the art of telling lies and pinching your belongings. People did not trust their government any more.

It was 1947, nearly two years after the end of the war and Italy was slowly recuperating. New buildings were going up and smiles were returning to people’s faces, but the unemployment rate was huge. Many servicemen were sent home from the military forces. The Nation did not need them any more and they were sent home to rot on the streets, angry and destitute, waiting in the hope of finding a job. Although I worried for my own career in the navy and hoped for a secure future, my position was retained and I continued to live a protected life in the Navy. The ship for us was like our second home where you could find a warm bed and food. In any case, I was young and optimisic and felt I had plenty of time left to start a new career, even if I was sent home to start all over again. I was only 27 years old.

After another week in Genoa we left accompanied by two Destroyers. On board we had an Admiral going (announced by his little blue flag flying on the mast) which meant more exercises on the open sea for sure. We left Genoa on a splendid evening and with a big red sun on the horizon; while many of us were enjoying the sky and the sea the alarm was sounded to go to our battle stations. Not surprised, I knew what was going on so I went to the number two tower. My crew was there already and waited to get their orders through the intercom and twenty minutes later it was all over. To do the same practice with the big calibre guns we had to go farther out and there was a motorboat setting up a distant target where we align our cannons. All this was done automatically from the central tower. At 800 hours we would go on deck for physical exercise and then to other duties. This morning the sun was coming up illuminating a calm sea, the sky was clean and there was pure oxygen to breathe. Far away on the horizon we could recognise the outline of Naples and two hours later we were tying up to the main pier.

The Naples sea port always brings back bad memories for me and I have to carry the scars all my life. I decided that evening I would certainly go on leave and try to forget the past … try to have a good time in this city full of life and Latin blood. So long as you stay sober and on the lookout it was safe, and if you are in uniform they leave you alone also.

In a big market they were selling everything, even bananas from Africa, American soldier’s uniforms, cigarettes and the rest. I remember seven months ago while I was on leave, I came here to buy some local objects in civilian clothes and while I was walking my hat vanished from my head. Suddenly I knew because I could feel the cold breeze. Looking around, all was calm and normal, but this guy had seen what happened. He saw a woman with a big basket on her head, and inside this basket, was a little boy snatching what he could then hide back inside the basket. I confronted this woman and got my hat back. Walking through this market I finished up near the pier where there stood a big bastion of hundreds years ago like a sentinel. Naples was full of soldiers of different nationalities more than any other city in the south. There was a black market, so-called because it was running wildly out of control and you could buy almost anything, but you had to be on the alert all the time.

Next morning we left the port of Naples alone, no escort and no admiral this time, but we still were going through the routine of life on board a war ship. There was no more war in Italy but the naval machine was still running ... barely.

In the after noon we could see Calabria’s coastline. The Stromboli Volcano had been dormant for long time, in line they say with Mount Etna in Sicily and Mount Vesuvius near Pompeii. Our hot springs waters of Caronte near were I was born comes from the same passage. We could see Sicily’s coast and there was a whisper on board that we were going to Palermo for a visit. We arrived at 18.00 hours, but there was no leave that evening. We only could admire the city from the ship.

The next day after dinner I went on leave with two Sicilian mates. We promised to stick together for safety, knowing of the bad Mafia reputation that the city has. In Palermo you can admire Roman Art, Greek, French, and Oriental buildings from the invaders of a long time ago. It was different from Naples – full of vitality. The taxi driver stopped on the way back for us to look at a puppet show where some characters were singing a love song to the tune of a guitar and a mandolin. It was a sad song similar to the story of Romeo and Juliet who died for love.

Apart from the monotone life on board the ship, now there is not much to tell. From Palermo we went to Taranto, our permanent base. Here I was on different duties, like those of a military policeman, sent to the city to sort out drunken sailors causing trouble for the local police.

One day I was called to the office where a young woman was waiting, and the officer asked me, “Do you know her?” I said “No!” But she insisted she knew me. “Sergeant Falvo, you may be the father of her baby!” the Officer told me. “It is not possible Commander” I said. “But I can call other sailors that have been with her, Sir”. He told her to go home and not come back again.

Here finishes my career in the navy.