A Bit 'O' History

Prologue

Scene [3]

Title

Provolt, OR
1941-1943
    Cathy grew up on this farm next to Cyrus.  She was eight years younger than he, so to Cyrus as a teenager, she was just a dumb little girl who lived nearby.  But to Cathy, watching him shirtless, bailing hay with his dad, he was a bronzed god.  Oh how she would dream of him.  Someday you will notice me.

    But the war came.  Men and boys were leaving the farms and schools to join the military.  Cathy had to take over chores her oldest brother had done when he left for the war.

    Cyrus was an only child.  And Cathy was relieved his parents insisted he finish high school first before going to fight.

Rais Vineyard, Bologna, Italy
1943-1945
    Cyrus Younger and Darin Oldaker, Sr. (he didn’t become a Sr. until much later) joined the Army the same day they graduated from separate high schools in 1943.  They had known each other only as competitors in sports their schools played, baseball (Cyrus was a southpaw pitcher) and six-man football (Darin was a center and excellent receiver).  Both boys had Italian mothers and knew some of the language.  That was why they were sent to the 91st ‘Blue Powder’ Division after boot camp.  Their knowledge of Italian would be useful in the campaign to free Italy.

    After fighting their way up the Italian peninsula in the summer and fall of 1944, the Allies were stalled in the Apennine Mountains by heavy snow and bad weather at what the German and Mussolini’s Fascist Army called the Winter Line.

    Tough, miserable, cold with overcast skies made re-supply and air support difficult.  But in the spring, strategic airpower, for the Allies, became effective again, and the defending Axis forces began running out of supplies and reinforcements.

    In April 1945, the Winter Line cracked and six U.S. infantry divisions, the 34th, 85th, 88th, 91st, 92nd, and the 10th Mountain Division; and the 1st Armored Division, the Japanese-American 442nd Regiment, as well as the 1st Brazilian Infantry Division, the free Italian Legnano Combat Group, and the 6th South African Armored Division, poured down the Apennine mountains into the Po Valley.  They covered 10 to 20 miles a day, rapidly approaching their primary objective, the Po River.

    It became apparent to both sides that all of Italy was about to be returned to the Allies.  The Germans were retreating north and the Fascist Italians were largely surrendering.  But, before the official German surrender could be arranged, fighting continued and many men died.

    The Allies’ commander, Lt. General Lucian K. Truscott, Jr., didn’t want house-to-house urban fighting to destroy every village, town and city in the Po Valley.  So, he left the city of Bologna to his Italian troops, hoping they could negotiate with the Fascist Loyalists, and had the 91st Division bypass the western outskirts of the city, capture the airport, and continue north.

    The buildings at the airport were destroyed from the air strikes and during the fighting.  To keep liaison with the free Italians in Bologna, a HQ was established at a small winery and vineyard between the airport and the city.  Cyrus and Darin were temporarily detached to that HQ.

    The next 20 days, Cyrus’ and Darin’s war appeared to be over.  Warm days, cool nights, available girls, and an abundant stock of wine from the main house cellar made for good duty.

    The rumor of Mussolini’s death and the German surrender on May 2nd made for celebration... every night.

    Soon, the HQ was no longer needed and General Truscott ordered it closed.  So, the evening before their scheduled departure, the vineyard owner threw a party.  Twenty American and Free Italian officers and staff gathered with their hosts at the fountain in front of the main house for a group photograph and farewells.  After the picture was taken, the group retired to the large reception room for a meager banquet, all the host had.

    Sensing his last opportunity to serve Il Duce (Mussolini), one remaining loyalist was able to sneak into the courtyard and throw a grenade through an open window into the party.

    The grenade bounced off Darin’s back between his shoulder blades, knocking the wind out of him, and landed at Cyrus’ feet.  Cyrus quickly picked up the fussing grenade, ran toward the window and threw it back out the opening.  But the fuse was spent and the device exploded a mere ten feet beyond the window.  The blast caught Cyrus on the left side of his face, shoulder, and arm before he could duck below the sill.

    Others in the hall were injured by flying glass and stones from the wall, but Cyrus had saved them from almost certain death.  The blast killed the loyalist, who turned out to be one of the vineyard hands.

    Medics worked feverishly to keep Cyrus alive.  Darin provided 3 pints of his own blood and wanted to give more until the corpsman refused him.  The next morning Cyrus was to be transferred to a newly arrived hospital ship at Venice.  The last time Darin saw Cyrus, the corpsman said, “It doesn’t look good.  He may not even make it to the ship.”

    With a heavy heart, Darin told the others.

    Darin’s unit was put to reserves.  Many of the men were used as replacements for the escalating fighting in France and on into Germany.


Camp White, OR
1945-1946
    When Darin returned home three months after VE day he was surprised and relieved to find Cyrus was alive and rehabilitating at Camp White only ten miles from Darin’s home in Phoenix, OR.

    Cyrus had lost all hearing in his left ear and 75% from his right.  His left arm was fused in a bent position and his hand was a perpetual fist.

    During one of a dozen visits, Darin presented Cyrus a copy of their farewell photograph taken in Italy.  Cyrus studied the photo for a minute, then began to weep.

    From that point on, Darin sensed a significant shift in Cyrus’ personality.  The bright, adventuresome and charismatic Cyrus was gone.  A resentful, blaming and ornery Cyrus had taken his place.

    When Cyrus was discharged from the Army’s care, Darin seldom saw him again.  Cyrus went home to his parents’ farm in Provolt and Darin went to college to study criminology.

* * *

Wyatt Farm, Provolt, OR
1982/06/05
    “Yah know, Betty, it’s taken almost forty years, but Cyrus has finally disillusioned me of my childish infatuation.  I’ll finally admit it.  The war changed him.”

    “He was wounded, Cathy,” Betty said.  “Grievously.”

    “I know that.  It isn’t the physical Cyrus.  He has good days, even good weeks.  That I understand.  But no, it’s down inside.  He’s not what I knew before the war.  Not even the damaged man who came home after the war.  He’s... different and getting worse all the time.”

    “You didn’t know him that well before the war.  You were nine, he was eighteen.  You just had a crush on the boy next door,” Betty said.  “You didn’t ‘know’ him.”

    “But I had twelve years to grow up, fill out, and chase him until he caught me after the war.  Now, after almost twenty-seven years of marriage, a child, a prospering farm, and a place in the community, it isn’t enough without love and compassion.”

    “Maybe it’s his wounds.”

    “Wounds?  To hell with his damn stoic suffering.  I’ve had enough.”


Pages:      4
Words:  1231

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