Free War in My Town by E. Graziani

then parting. I thought of Alcide and wondered what he was doing now. He was one of the soldiers who had not returned home. I prayed he was still alive somewhere.
    The embers were bright and the smell of burning wood was comforting. Although I was afraid to be in the house by myself, I was beginning to feel terribly sleepy near the warm fire. My head began to nod and my eyelids grew heavy. Giving in to sleep, finally, I arose and went to my own bed. For once, sleep was victorious over fear.

Chapter 13
    The next morning came quickly. Although it was still relatively dark outside, Paolo and Alice’s rooster down the lane crowed like it was set by an alarm clock. The January days were short and cold and I felt it in my bones that the fire had died during the night. Turning over, I saw that mother was still asleep. The one lone candle in the room cast a long shadow over our quilted covers sewn lovingly together with a variety of fabric scraps. Then I remembered. The women had all been at Evelina’s when the men left our house in a rush. Mamma must know about the plan they came up with.
    “Mamma,” I said, nudging her gently. “Mamma, wake up.”
    “Yes…what?” she murmured, sleepily. She turned her head slightly to look at me.
    “Last night, Mamma, what happened at Evelina’s? Did the men come up there?”
    She yawned and gave me a sly smile. “You’ll see today, when you climb the steps up to the top of the ridge to go to grandmother’s. You can see if you go to the fields below the road, too.”
    I couldn’t wait to see the plan they had hatched last night.

    “How very clever,” said Armida later that day. We friends were all together looking up at Evelina’s kitchen window from the street below.
    “Yet perfectly simple and not in the least suspicious,” agreed Beppina.
    “And the blanket can be seen from nearly everywhere in the village and the fields,” I boasted, filled with pride that I had been present at the moment the plan had been hatched.
    Mamma had explained it to me earlier that day. “Do you see the white blanket over the sill of the window?” She pointed to the innocuous looking bedspread.
    “Yes?” I answered, a bit puzzled. “You mean Evelina’s coverlet is going to protect us from the Nazi soldiers?”
    Mamma laughed and shook her head. “It’s not the blanket. It’s what it means.”
    “What does it mean?”
    “Someone will always be on watch at Evelina’s house, either she or one of the men. From her house you can see the road, right to the bend around the hillside of Campi della Regina, leading up to the village and the entire valley below. Everyone working in the valley can see her kitchen window, which faces the farming fields. If she, or whoever is on watch, spots anything suspicious coming around the bend, they will hang a red blanket outside on the windowsill to warn us. We will know this is the signal to hide in whatever we are closest to — in barns, drying huts, the woods. The men will stay hidden until the soldiers leave. When it is safe, a white blanket is the signal that all is clear. Right now, we can see the white blanket, which means that all is well.”
    A grin crept across my face as I repeated the details to my friends. Then I drew my lips together and became more serious, vowing to myself that I would be strong and brave. “So keep an eye out for it,” I explained, “when you’re working or about the village. If you see red, then warn anyone who may not be able to see it. Spread the word.”
    As the weeks unfolded, the plan worked well and the villagers were comforted by the fact that they had a plan that might give them some control over their lives. Yes, we were at the mercy of the Nazis. We experienced fear whenever soldiers came into our village. But the red blanket was a small measure of victory that kept us going for a while. The men were vigilant in their look-out duties and the plan was hailed as a triumph. It gave us the chance to hide our