Frank Polizzi - Somewhere in the Stars

Nick gently opened the lock of the door, closed it behind him but still woke Nathan who had become a light sleeper.

“What’s going on, buddy?” Nathan rubbed his eyes and sat up.

“I’m back.”

“That’s obvious.”

“Carlo’s gone and I didn’t want you to be lonely.”

“You left Caterina?” He scratched his forehead.

“Yeah.”

“You’re a dumb schmuck !”

“That’s not what you said when I first started seeing her.”

“You never let that go. When you were in Venice, I found Caterina to be a complex person, full of life. Despite everything, she’s a mensch and I stand by my comment. You’re a schmuck .”

“I’m going to bed.”

Nick didn’t bother to take his clothes off and flopped on the cot, face down. Nate continued cursing his buddy in English, peppering it with Yiddish, German and Italian, for making such a poor decision. Nick covered his ears with the pillow until Nathan stopped. Before falling asleep, he mulled over his lie to Caterina about the sign from Pleiades.

By the spring of 1945 Nick and Nathan were ensconced in their new Florence location and had read the full battle report on liberation of the city during the summer of 1944. It had been declared an ‘open city,’ sparing Firenze the destruction of its Renaissance palazzi and chiese. But before the German Army retreated, the Gestapo executed many partigiani and political sympathizers in the streets and the Piazza Santo Spirito, a prominent public square across the Arno River from the headquarters of the Nazi Command and the fascist OVRA, stationed at La Villa Trieste. German soldiers set off mines, blowing up all the bridges on the Arno, except for the Ponte Vecchio, reducing to rubble the old neighborhoods on either side of that bridge, including sections of the Vasari Corridor that connected the Palazzo Vecchio with the Palazzo Pitti , the access to the bridge sealed off.

The tedium of their work wore on them, as they waited for the war to end, so when they had some free time, they explored the cultural sites that were still open, including the grandest one of all, the Duomo, the Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore. To reach the lantern in the cupola, they would have to climb 463 steps. Nick considered his bad leg and Nathan’s unexpected seizures and felt that the climb might be a mistake. Nick motioned to the front pew and Nathan sat down and he slid in next to him. They studied the massive core of the dome.

“That’s some fresco in the dome, Nick. Too bad it’s coated with dirt and dust.”

“From what I can make out in that section…” Nick pointed to the bottom where naked bodies were dangling upside down, moments before their eternal punishment. “We’re all destined for a hell one way or another—a personal one if we survive, a hot one if we die.”

Nathan sighed as he rubbed his forehead. “Can’t resist the dark side, can you? The damage could have been worse here. Look, the Dome is still intact, considering part of the roof caved in.” Nathan tilted his head upwards again. “We’ll come back some day, Nick, when it’s all spruced up.”

“I’m never returning.”

“Why don’t we keep on exploring the city? Sure to find some gems, despite everything.”

“What we’ll run into, Nate, are grey mounds of smashed stones lining the banks of the Arno. All those caved in church roofs from the impact of exploding mines.”

“I’ve got eyes. Why don’t you focus on a new life after the war? What do you say, Nick?”

“Let’s get out of here.”

“One more place, buddy. The Uffizi Gallery.”

“Why not!”

Though the museum was not open to the public, Nathan, flashing his Intelligence ID, talked the security guard into letting them in for a brief visit. The hoary man waved them in but all they found were a few shrouded statues in the debris-filled hallways. Most of the rooms had the light outlines of where the pictures used to hang.

“What the hell, Nick! Everything is gone.”

“That’s wacky. Maybe the staff hid all the good stuff from the Nazis.”

“All I wanted was to peek under the protective covering to see Caravaggio’s The Sacrifice of Abraham.”

“If it were up to me, then Botticelli’s The Birth of Venus. ”

An official from the museum walked into the room and spoke in English when he saw the American uniforms.

“Luigi di Nofri, il Direttore di Galleria degli Uffizi. I am sorry to say that you have wasted your time visiting our museum.”

“We had hoped to sneak a view of a few Italian masters,” Nathan said.

“There is a good reason the Uffizi is closed, gentlemen. As you can see, little remains. Before the top-level Nazi officer, General Wolff, fled the city, he commandeered the collections of the Uffizi Gallery and Pitti Palace. We will have to wait until the end of the war to get our masterpieces back. The guard said you work for a U.S. Intelligence unit. Perhaps you will be able to find out where the artwork is hidden.”

“We’ll get it back sooner or later,” Nathan said. “You can bet on it.” The official led them out to the street and they shook hands.

Before they got orders for their return to the states, a report had come into their unit that General Karl Wolff had ignored orders from the highest levels of the Nazi government to transport truckloads of the stolen art north across the border into the Reich. The General later risked his life to negotiate a secret Nazi surrender with American spymaster, Allen Dulles. All the hidden masterpieces found their way back to the Uffizi and other museums, after a special team uncovered them. Nick was relieved that their promise to the Director had been carried out and that Nate would be able to visit the Uffizi some day in all its former splendor.

By early September 1945, around 15,000 troops including Nick and Nathan were packed into every available space on the Queen Mary, its exterior painted navy grey and the interior stripped of all its luxurious decorations and amenities, having been outfitted as a troop ship since May of 1940. The staterooms were converted to triple-tiered standee bunks. The ocean liner nicknamed “The Grey Ghost” for its speed and color, moved dead slow out of Southampton harbor, its three smokestacks trailing funnels of vapor when it ramped up the knots out on the open sea.

They stayed on the deck for fresh air as much as possible, walking around the circumference of the ship for exercise and avoiding the noise and card playing inside the cramped quarters. Sometimes they jogged a lap, stopping at the middle of the bow to rest if Nick’s leg acted up.

“Nick, there’s two deck chairs free over there. Let’s sit.”

“This ship really cuts those waves, Nate. Separating us from the last several years.”

“Happy to be going home in one piece. Tell me something, buddy. Do you ever miss Caterina?”

“Nah, it’s all in the past now.”

“I don’t know if it’s the same for me.”

“Rachele!”

“Yeah, like a part of me is still in Assisi.”

“All you should be thinking about is going home. As soon as you see your family, you’ll be okay.”

“You’re very sure about that.”

“I can already hear the jazz playing at Jack’s tavern.”

Nick lied about everything being okay. Sure, he wanted to see his folks. Loved them to death. But he had no woman in his life, neither San Francisco nor Rome. Sure, he was happy to be alive but there were plenty of things in Italy to haunt him. It would take more than the soulful sounds of jazz to get him through his darker thoughts.