World War II- 92nd Infantry
Division- Buffalo Soldiers The black veterans and
their Italian hosts have more than war memories in common. Just as Mr. Burke and his comrades and relatives cannot shed their
bitterness over the United States' long refusal to recognize the combat records of black servicemen fully, many Italian veterans
cannot forgive their own countrymen who fought against them more than 50 years ago. Sommocolonia, a dying mountain village of fewer than 50 inhabitants that overlooks
Barga in Tuscany, wants to forge out of its ruins some sort of peace memorial to honor Lieutenant Fox and all those who died:
black soldiers, village civilians, Italian partisans, and Italian and German troops. But that still hazy plan has resurrected
old rancors. ''Peace is always won through liberation from oppression, and you cannot put
together oppressors and liberators,'' said Moreno Salvatori, 67, who withdrew from the ''Fortress of Peace'' committee in
protest. His father was taken prisoner by the Germans during the war and died in captivity. ''It's a mixing of memories that
I cannot share.'' Perhaps the only thing that everyone agrees on is that Lieutenant Fox was
a hero whom all sides must hurry to honor here before those few left who remember his heroism die. It was that sense of urgency that led Solace Wales, an American writer who
has commuted between Marin County, Calif., and Sommocolonia since 1972, to invite ''Buffalo Soldiers,'' the name first given
to black servicemen in the 1860's, back to Sommocolonia for a memorial ceremony on Sunday, even before the town had agreed
on what kind of monument to build. Ms. Wales, who began 20 years ago to research the history of Lieutenant Fox
and the other black soldiers who fought around Sommocolonia, is a little like Frances Mayes, author of ''Under the Tuscan
Sun,'' only in addition to fixing up her 16th-century villa and garden Ms. Wales wanted to restore Sommocolonia's place in
history. ''Somebody had to tell the story,'' she said. ''It had been in the shadows too long.'' Unrooting the story of Lieutenant Fox was not difficult here, where survivors
warmly recall the black soldiers. They were part of the Allied forces seeking to keep Axis troops behind the so-called Gothic
Line, which in 1944 stretched from the Ligurian Sea to the Adriatic. The surprise German attack was part of a somewhat desperate attempt to push
through Allied lines and take the port of Livorno. An Austrian unit captured Sommocolonia and Barga on Dec. 26, but proved
too weak to hold its gains. By Jan. 1, the Allies had more or less re-established their original positions. Some military
historians credit Lieutenant Fox with buying time as the Americans retreated so that other men could be saved. On the Piazza Martiri della Resistenza, a memorial in a wooded park at the
top of Sommocolonia, seven stone slabs commemorate slain Italian resistance fighters. Next to them another memorial reads,
in Italian, ''John Fox. Lt. American Army. 26.12.44'' It was erected in 1979, three years before the United States Army, under
pressure from black veterans associations, awarded Lieutenant Fox the Distinguished Service Cross. ''They were wonderful, so nice to us,'' said Irma Biondi, now 77. ''My little
brothers followed them like shadows.'' ''We had never seen so much food,'' she added, remembering the chicken, rabbits,
chocolate and cheese that the more than 60 black servicemen stationed here gave out on Christmas Day, 1944. She also vividly recalled the sound of the stomping boots of Austrian soldiers
under German command who began storming the town that night. ''We fled out into the streets, passing over the bodies of dead
Americans and Germans,'' she said. At least seven civilians died that day. German war records show that 43 members
of the Austrian Fourth Mountain Division died in the fighting. United States Army records are sketchier, but historians say
about 40 black American soldiers died here. ''We still have fellows who should be recognized
now,'' said Mr. Burke, president of the 92nd Infantry Division World War II Association, a Buffalo Soldiers veterans association, talking about lingering discrimination against all black veterans. Reminiscing earlier at their hotel in Barga, the three men joked as they recalled
petty injustices inflicted by their senior officers, who were white. But when Mr. Zachary, still cocky at 83, reached the
tower, he too was overcome. After trying to console Mr. Burke, he collapsed himself. ''Burke,'' he keened, ''I see him in the tower, I see John.'' Arlene Fox, the widow of Lieutenant Fox, arrived on Thursday to stay with
Ms. Wales in Sommocolonia, accompanied by her sister-in-law, her daughter and two grandchildren. But she did not go with her
husband's comrades on their first tour of the crumbling fortress. ''I have a lot of unresolved feelings about being here,''
she explained. ''Its so beautiful, and people have been so kind, and that helps. But it is not easy.'' That was what Antonio Nardini, 79, said, only he was talking about dealing
with his own experience as a soldier in Mussolini's army. Mr. Nardini, who volunteered in 1939, was taken prisoner by Italian
partisans in 1945, and said he was rescued from execution by the Americans. ''Before 1943, Italy had 40 million Fascists,'' he said, citing the year Mussolini
was overthrown and Italy switched sides. ''Afterward,'' he said sarcastically, ''there were 40 million anti-Fascists. Except
one: me.'' Several former partisans said that it was time to get over wartime enmities
and to honor all the dead, including the Fascists and Germans. Mr. Nardini, who is president of the Barga chapter of the Lucca
Historical Society, agreed. He, like most other former Fascists, mourns his fallen comrades in private ceremonies. ''There is a lot of demagoguery about the resistance,'' he said. ''But there
is no debate about Fox.'' ''His gesture may have been futile,'' he said, noting that the Germans took
the town anyway. ''But he acted like a real soldier.'' In tiny Sommocolonia, the desire for a monument is not just about Lieutenant
Fox, or even the war. It is about surviving postwar demographic shifts that have turned a once vibrant village into an almost
deserted retirement home. ''We need something alive, for the town, not a museum for the dead,'' said
Dario Giannini, who is coordinating the weekend activities. ''The bombs didn't just destroy the fortress, they killed the
hope of the entire village.'' This is a 1-column page. |
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