Translate

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Torricella Peligna

Nicola Teti and Maria Piccoli
with baby son Vincenzo and daughter Antonia
1900


Before the War (1920)

After the War 

2004
(Photo courtesy of Pierluigi Marsigli)
Torricella Peligna is the birthplace of my paternal grandparents, Nicola Teti and Maria Piccoli, who came to the United States in 1898.  Photographs and information for this blog taken from .Torricella Peligna website with heartfelt gratitude and appreciation for the immense wealth of their wonderful website. 

Dear friends,

Today I’m sending you another comparison between two photos of the same place taken at least 80 years apart. It is the zone of the "Coste". The first is the present day, taken last year by Pierluigi Marsigli. The second is an old photo taken in about the 1920’s, or at least before the bombing of the Second World War. The difference is extraordinary, a settlement of so many houses then - and just a few, mainly uninhabited ones, now. You can still see the baronial palace that not so long ago was also used as a prison. There, on the rubble of this palace that was of medieval origin, now bombed and razed to the ground, is the tower, the monument to civilian victims.

At the time of the photo, the population of Torricella was about 5,000 inhabitants and the "Coste" quarter was the most densely populated part of the village. It was mostly inhabited by peasants and craftsmen. Most of the houses had a stable on the ground floor, for the donkey or for some sheep or goats. Early in the mornings, they left from here to go to the fields and returned at dusk with the donkey laden with "fascette", (bundles of twigs) or with "jerva medica" (medicinal herbs). The donkey led the way in front and the master came behind attached to the tail so he could be pulled up the little alleyways.

As in all old villages, the oldest part of Torricella, the nucleus, was built on a rocky base.
This provided safety and the houses could be built without foundations. The “Coste”, moreover, are in a southerly position, so they’re always exposed to the sun, indispensable for surviving the winters' cold and snow. The base of the "Coste" is composed of limestone, the same rock as the Majella, a very hard, compact rock. When one goes to Torricella it is always enchanting to go for a walk along the alleyways of the "Coste", amongst the steep stairways and little uphill paths, or else to go and look out from the terrace of the “piazzetta” (small square), beneath the tower, where there is a 360 degree panorama, from Mount Porrara to Mount Amaro, from Guardiagrele to the sea, from the mountains of Molise to the Pizzi mountains.

Ciao,
Antonio Piccoli

Sant’Agata Massacre & More


Nicoletta Di Luzio 1949
I only hate violence  
I have done everything to survive. I dedicated myself to my children. I never worked; I never felt well. Six or seven years ago I began to feel detached from those facts and to speak about them. My relatives have often asked me if I felt animosity or hatred towards the Germans. Nothing. Just indifference. I wonder whether these things can be of interest to anyone else. I have only told this to my nieces and nephews. One lives badly if filled with hate. I only hate violence.  Yes, this is something I can say with certainty. 
  I declare that I am Nicoletta Di Luzio, daughter of Domenico Di Luzio and Maria Cionna, both deceased. I am 16 years old, and I lived with my family in Torricella Peligna until the end of 1943, at which time the Germans ordered us to leave the town. At first we settled in an area called Santa Giusta, and then later, we settled into an abandoned house in a small inhabited area called Sant’Agata. We arrived there around June 19, 1944. Besides myself, there was my mother, my sister, Vincenzina, my two brothers, Leonardo and Antonio, my uncle, Camillo Cionna, my aunt, Rosina Di Paolo, and their 4 children, Enzo, Gemma, Annamaria and Anita.

Around 5 am on June 21, 1944, we were awoken by German soldiers who broke into our house. They shouted "raus, raus", and they made us get out of bed. They didn’t say anything else. My mother lit the fireplace, but the Germans threw water on it and put it out. Two soldiers remained at the door as guards while the others went out and gathered more people to bring into the room. One of them threw a grenade towards the door of the room. Then he closed the door and held it closed from outside with a rope. When the grenade exploded there was a lot of smoke, and I thought he wanted to gas us. Then I heard a woman cry out that she was wounded, and I then understood that it was grenade. Then, from outside the Germans threw around 30 grenades towards the fireplace in the room.

There were two sorts of grenades, one, which they unhooked by pulling a ring with their finger, and one, which they unhooked with their teeth. I was seated next to the fireplace holding in my arms my 6-year-old cousin, Annamaria. When the third grenade went off, she died. After the Germans stopped throwing grenades, there were dead and disfigured people all over the room and a big hole in the floor. Some of the dead and wounded fell through this hole to the barn below. I had not been wounded, and in an effort to escape, I fell through the hole to the barn below. I tried to hide under the bodies of a man and my aunt. I managed only partially because the bodies were so heavy.

A little later a German soldier entered the barn and looked around. I pretended to be dead. He was just above me, and he burned my neck with a cigarette lighter. I didn’t move, and I heard him say "Kaputt". Then he went out. Then I saw through a hole that the Germans brought some hay and spread it on the bodies. They then poured some liquid on the hay and lit it. Later I moved over to where my two brothers were hiding in a trough. My brother Leonardo tried to escape from the barn, but the Germans shot at him with a machine gun as soon as he took a step outside the barn door. He died near the door.

Later on, the smoke got so strong that I couldn’t stay any longer, and so I tried to escape. As I started to go outside the door, I saw a German soldier, and he saw me. I turned around in an effort to turn back, but he shot at me and the bullet hit me in the back. I fell down in the barn, and I remained outstretched on the ground for some time. My brother was still in the trough. I heard him weep and say that he wanted to get out, and that since all his family was dead, he wanted to die as well. So, I went to the trough and remained with him.

There was less smoke in the barn because the door had remained open. After about an hour, when all was calm, I left the barn with my brother, and we went to a neighbouring farmhouse. A lady and her daughter took my brother and me to Gessopalena where they medicated my wounds. The German soldiers were from an alpine division, and I would be able to recognize them if I saw them because I had seen them previously in front of our house in Torricella Peligna.

The above declaration is true, and the descriptions I have given come from my observations.



No comments:

Post a Comment