From the book "In my father's foxholes and footsteps"

 

Just before the Po Valley there is another small place, Madonna della Provvidenza where we found a German roadblock. We were going there and K Company once again was on the frontline. There was a machine gun and some tanks. The Germans opened fire and I lost another friend there. A few more of our men were killed there when the Germans came out.

I want to mention another man who was killed there; his name was John Camillo another New Yorker.   There is a photo of him among the pictures I have. That German roadblock killed four of our fellows.  Finally the other company, who was a few miles behind us in vicinity of the Po Valley, came to our aid. I can’t recall the name of the large roadway we crossed over but it’s the road that goes towards Bologna. I think that’s where we lost our last man. We later had more wounded but nobody was killed right.

 We kept on going towards the Po River where we were to get to the bridge located in the small village of Bomborto and after that the village of Bastiglia. It was daytime; I remember that I was on bike and all the people would be coming out giving us wine, cheese, giving us all kinds of things. They were all so happy and smiling. I remember one night while marching, I saw a lot of fireflies all over the place, and I had never seen anything like this before. Then, one evening, a plane came and dropped a few bombs. Hearing this we spread out. We then arrived at another village where we heard all kinds of firing going on …fighting…fighting. We weren’t the frontline but somewhat back a bit.   If we hadn’t looked at the clock and saw that it was 11pm I would have sworn that it was only 9 pm because it was dusk.  We stayed overnight after the town had been seized. That was Bastiglia.

 Six years ago, during a visit that was organized by veterans of the 10th Division, we made a bus stop at the bridge of Bomporto. We followed the same road that we took back then. While passing through each village I can remember seeing the long processions of men, one on each side of the road and about four or five feet apart. We finally arrived at the bridge of Bomborto in the evening.

On April 23 we grouped at S. Benedetto in view of the crossing of the Po River. That was our next mission, the Po River. I remember taking walks and bike riding. I distinctly remember leaving my bicycle at the edge of the river.  I couldn’t take it with me across the Po River.

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Credits

        Link all'accreditamento dell'Associazione discendenti della 10a Divisione da Montagna

                                      

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