CHIAVARI, Italy – I’ve
always been struck by how little the Italians talk about what happened here during
the WWII. They remember, they celebrate war related holidays, they march in
parades and listen to speeches but for the most part they just get on with things
and unless you (meaning me) ask, you don’t hear many stories.
That’s probably why I
was so fascinated when I discovered a small book by Giovanni Rinaldi
called ITreni della Felicita. The Trains of Happiness is the true story of
thousands of Italian kids, mostly from southern Italy, and what one woman did
that changed their lives, and the lives of those who joined her, forever. Then
I discovered that film maker Alessandro Piva had made an award winning
documentary about those same kids, and where they were today. But let me back
up a little for this is a story worth telling.
The story starts in
the winter of 1945. The Allies had
landed, Italy was liberated and now cities and towns were searching to find
solutions to the immediate problems of food distribution and removal of war
debris. The national priorities were those. The woman, Teresa Noce, a Milanese
partisan and leader in the National Communist Party, had just been freed from
the woman’s concentration camp in Ravensbruk, Germany and was now back in
Milan. From her experiences in the concentration camp, Signora Noce was well
aware of other problems other than those the politicians were concerned with.
She was concerned about the children who were suffering from hunger and
abandonment, particularly those in the towns of southern Italy that had been
hit the hardest by the war, and she decided to do something about it.
Teresa Noce in Parliament |
The first thing she
did was contact the women members of Communist groups in Reggio Emilia. She asked
if they could find families who would be willing to take in some children from
southern Italy for a few months so they could recuperate their health. The positive
response she received was overwhelming, and from that first approach the UDI,
the Union of Italian Women was born.
The UDI was so
successful Sig.ra Noce, and the other women working with her, decided to expand
it and anchor it in southern Italy. And
so it began. There was a lot of work to do. The women began by traveling to
Naples, Cassino, Rome and into the small towns of Puglia looking for children
who would be eligible for the program. After their families had given their
permission the children had to be examined by a doctor to make sure they were
able to make the long train trip. In those days, with the frequent interruptions
of the railroad lines, it took up to 14 hours to travel from Naples to Rome, a
trip you can do today in less than 2 hours.
In the two winters
following the end of the war, thousands of children left their homes in the war
torn Southern provinces to stay with families in and around Modena. They were
clothed, sent to school and cared for, but those were merely the superficial
benefits, what happened to them was so much more.
Not all families were
receptive to the help being offered though. While the majority of the mothers
the UDI contacted had never been beyond the boundaries of their small villages,
they had heard the horror stories about the Communists “devils” in Alt’Italia
(northern Italy) who ate children for lunch or threw them into boiling
cauldrons of lye and turned them into soap. The idea of putting their sons and
daughters on trains, which none of them had ever been on, and transporting them
straight into the hands of those very “devils”, must have kept many a mother
pacing up pacing the floor at night, torn between wanting her child or children
to have this opportunity and wondering if they would ever see them again. And
the kids were worried as well.
Babies on the Menu in Milan |
One man told the
story of a little boy who had been put in his care who, for the first week wouldn’t
eat and wouldn’t to go to sleep. He would always say, “I’m not hungry, I’m not
sleepy”. But of course he would eventually fall asleep and the next day he
would wake up and just keep looking from side to side, as if expecting something
to happen. After a few days he finally confessed that he had been told that the
people in Alt’Italia were all Communists and everyone knew the Communists ate
children. When asked if that was why he was so afraid to go to sleep he said
yes, he had wanted to be very watchful.
They were probably
all afraid but there were others who told stories of discovery. “Being on that
train was like being in a fairy tale,” said one woman. “I remember one night
seeing all these lights sparkling in the distance like bouncing stars. I woke
my brother and said look at what is out there, and we stood with our noses
pressed against the train window looking out. Then, one of the women with us
said, that is the sea. I had never seen the sea.”
Heading for the Train of Happiness |
Days later, when that
first train finally got to Modena, it had snowed. The mothers had done their
best to dress their children for the trip, but the truth was the kids were
dressed in rags and many were barefoot, but not all. One mother had taken the
only shoes in the house, her husband’s shoes, and put them on the feet of her
son just before he boarded the train. When the boy arrived in Modena he stood
there shivering in the train station, in his father’s shoes and his sister’s moth
eaten sweater and waited to be picked up by his new family.
And family they were,
to all of the kids. They treated them like their own, there was no difference.
One by one they told of the marvel of sleeping in a clean bed by themselves, of
having a whole room to themselves. It was very different at home where they
shared beds with three, four or more brothers and sisters in rooms with more
than one bed in it. Then they all laughed remembering their first bath in a
bathtub, something none of them had ever experienced before.
They all talked about
eating three times a day for the first time in their life, of salami and pasta
and meat all at the same meal, their first taste of a croissant, of a cookie, treats
for kids who usual diet was bread and tomatoes with maybe a drop of oil, for
oil was expensive. And in the afternoon they would go for gelato, which they
likened to cold ricotta as none of them had ever heard of, let alone tasted gelato
before.
There were many
adjustments that had to be made by both the kids and the sponsors. For example,
many of the sponsors only spoke the local dialect, Romangnolo and the kids
spoke the dialects of the south. Some spoke Neapolitan others Barese and still
others spoke dialects of isolated mountain villages, and so communication was
tricky. “But we managed,” said one man talking about the young boy who had
lived with him and his family, “in the end we mixed a little Neapolitan with a
little Romangnolo and made our own language.”
The children stayed
with the families in Modena for two years and, when they left to return to
their families and homes in the south, it was a tearful parting. It had been an
experience that had changed an entire generation of Italians, not just the kids
but their sponsors as well. And long after the kids went back their Modena
families continued to send them packages of clothes and pasta and bread. As one
woman put it, “even if the bread was 15
days old, for that’s how long it would take to get to us, we would open the
boxes and smell the smell of Modena and all our memories would come back to
us.”
While I Treni della
Felicita’ only focuses on the families of Modena and Reggio Emilia, the UDI
program actually reached more than 70,000 kids. Many of them lived with
families in and around Modena, but many others lived with families in Milano,
Torino and other cities in northern Italy. It’s difficult for us to fully
understand how this experience affected them for it was a unique time in
history when the extraordinary value of human solidarity prevailed, one of many
examples of the generosity to the less fortunate that has always characterized
the Italians.
Film maker Alessandro
Piva tracked down some of the people who had been hosted in Modena and put
together an hour long documentary called Pasta Nera. Here’s the link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v5zph62IdCY Pasta Nera
Hello Phyllis, We were sent to you by A Path to Lunch - you have a great blog here! We're thinking of spending a week in Liguria in late March - early April. We're looking for a small town that doesn't go completely dead in winter and Michael recommended Chiavari. Can you give us a little bit of the winter flavor of the city? Or do you have any other recommendations for us? Many thanks!
ReplyDeleteHi Annie, Chiavari isn't a town that depends on tourism so life goes on even in the winter. It's in a great location, right in the center of Liguria, which means you can get to Genova in an hour, Milan or Florence in about two hours, you can explore the towns of the Cinque Terre or stay in the neighborhood and visit Portofino, Santa Margherita Ligure, Rapallo, Sestri Levante, etc, etc. This is a good shopping town, there's a big outdoor market on Fridays, an antique market and a monthly specialty food market where producers from all over Italy come to sell their products like balsamic vinegar, wine, cheese, meat and salami, etc, great boutiques and it's very pretty. In the winter we have opera, music, dance programs, films (in Italian) and probably other stuff that I can't think of right this minute. You can contact me through my FB page, and while you are there take a look at the Chiavari and Liguria photo album for an idea of what it looks like here. Hope this helps.
ReplyDeleteSolo ora ho scoperto il tuo post. Grazie Phyllis, davvero grazie per la tua attenzione verso questa storia.
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