She was beautiful, my mother, just 23, that 29th September.
She held my hand along the track that wound down to the shelter, she groaned with the pains of the new life she was soon to bear, and granny soothed her, helped to hold her up.
She was beautiful even in the birth pangs.
Machine-guns crackled, catching us off our guard. Wounded in the belly, in one second she knew she’d lost it all. Her hands red with my blood, granny’s eyes beginning to glaze; she clutched her stomach, trying to hug me away from the flying lead, as a hen shelters a chick beneath its wings.
Her cries of pain and despair had something inhuman yet even then she had a caress for me.
Such a gentle soul, my mother.
If there’s anyone in heaven, they must know what’s going on down here.
She was just a girl, my mother.
The nightmare has dogged my life, yet in it I see mother’s gentle smile.
She was truly beautiful, my mother.
Franco Leoni (1864 - 1949) Italy
Source: 1944 Out Of Darkness, Light. Life After Mass Murder - Marzabotto 2011, Anna Rosa Nannetti, Association of Relatives of the Victims of Nazi-fascist massacres in the boroughs of Marzabotto, Grizzana, Monzuno and neighbouring districts, Digi Graf S.r.l., 2011
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