Il Duce
based on a true story...
The town is preparing for Il Duce's visit. Flags and large signs reading, "Viva Il Duce!", going up everywhere; on balconies, in shop windows, the Post Office, the Administration Building. Sanitation men, scrubbing and painting the Piazza at the Marina. Carpenters singing folk songs in loud off-key voices as they put the finishing touches to the large platform from where Il Duce will speak.
It was at school that I heard Il Duce was coming to Alcamo. Principal Signore Bellini announced with pride, "In a few days, Il Duce will do us the honor of visiting our community. All students must participate in the celebration. Wear your Ballilla uniforms. Those who do not have uniforms, can wear a similar outfit, black blouse and beret, white skirt, and white gloves."
After school, I ran all the way home. I couldn't wait to tell nonna Maria! Nonna was sitting in front of the house talking with Ariana, our neighbor next door, while she shelled peas. My sister Mari and cousin Teresa were playing close by. Mari saw me and came running.
"Lina...Lina...you want to play with us?"
"Not right now...maybe later." Mari went back to Teresa and their dolls.
Ariana said..."Ciao Lina. Did you learn anything new at school today?"
She always asked that.
Nonna smiled, saying, "Go change your dress. On the kitchen cupboard there's a glass of lemonade and fig cakes for you."
"Thank you nonna."
I kissed her and went into the house. The news about Il Duce could wait. I was hot and thirsty. Anyway, I wanted to talk to nonna alone, reluctant to say anything about Il Duce while Ariana was there to hear. The whole town of Alcamo knew how much she hated him, cursing the day he was born.
"You can't blame her," people said. "Her son Gino was killed in the Abyssinian War."
I took a small bite of the fig cake, and quickly drank the cool, sweet lemonade, and hurried back.
As I came out of the house, I heard Ariana say to nonna, "I'll see you later."
I sat down in the empty chair.
"Nonna...Il Duce is coming to visit Alcamo."
"Yes...I know."
The tone of her voice, made me hesitate.
"I...I...I would like to be in the celebration, but...but I need a Ballilla uniform," I stuttered.
"Oh, I don't know Lina. It's going to be expensive."
"Please nonna, please! It isn't much, but I could give you the money that Zia Laura gave me for embroidering her tablecloth."
For what seemed hours, nonna sat silent. Then holding the pot of shelled peas, she got up and started to go into the house. At the door she stopped and said, "As soon as the peas are cooked, we will go to Marco's to buy you a uniform. Got tell Ariana to look after Mari and Teresa."
She paused, smiling.
"And Lina...there's no need for you to use you embroidery money."
"Ariana," I called loudly, as I quickly walked the few short steps to her house.
Ariana came to the kitchen window.
"What do you want?"
"Will you take care of Mari and Teresa for a little while.?
"Where are you going?"
"To Marco's store," I answered, hoping she wouldn't ask me why.
Mari heard and started to whine.
"I want to go with you and nonna."
"Nonna said that you and Teresa stay with Z'Ariana."
"I don't want to. Teresa can stay here if she likes."
Mari was stubborn. It was no use arguing with her when she got that way.
Ariana, still at the window, threw up her hands.
"These children today do as they please."
I turned to my cousin. "Teresa, do you want to come to?"
She thought for a moment.
"No, I'll stay here."
We walked to Marco's shop on Via Libertà, Mari ahead of nonna and me, skipping and humming a tune.
I awoke early on Il Duce Celebration Day. It was still dark. I knew it would soon be time to get up because I heard nonna fixing breakfast for nonno Michele and my uncle, Camillo. They always left for work before daylight. Last night, at dinner, nonno and uncle Camillo, talked about Il Duce. What they said wasn't nice.
"He deserves to be shot dead," nonno said in anger. And my uncle agreed with him. I was so afraid nonno wouldn't let me go to the celebration. I must have gone back to sleep, because the sun was bright when Mari woke me up.
"Li..nah...ah! Nonna says get up!"
I didn't get up right away. Mari kept up the sing-song.
"Get up lazy girl. Get up! Get up!"
Then she pulled my hair. When I started to get out of bed, she
jumped up fast and ran laughing out of the bedroom.
I washed quickly, combed my hair, put on my brand new Ballilla
uniform, and hurried down the stairs. Nonna looked at me with
smiling approval.
"You look like a young lady. I hardly recognize you."
Even Mari said, "Lina...you look pretty."
I ate my breakfast of coffee and sweetbread, and then waited impatiently for my school friend Caterina. Together, we would meet other classmates at the Administration Building at Piazza Marina.
Nonna pointed to my head.
"Lina...where is your beret?"
I ran upstairs to the bedroom for the beret. When I returned, Caterina was waiting for me.
Caterina and I marched arm in arm singing to the melody the town band was playing...Il Duce's familiar Facist Anthem..."Giovinezza, giovinezza, primavera di bellezza...e per Benito Mussolini..eyaah...eyaah...a la..la."
Many townspeople were hurriedly walking on Via Libertà, all going to the Piazza Marina. Vendors of roasted chestnuts and chick peas, sweet dates and figs, and marzipan fruits, outshouted each other for shoppers, in their lyric Sicilian dialect. The sidewalk tables at the cafes, wineshops, and ice cream parlors, were filled with laughing customers.
We were at the Piazza Marina now. The high platform, at the far end of the Piazza, where Il Duce would soon speak from, was gay with flags and brightly colored buntings. Circling the Piazza were tall Carabinieri, standing at attention, their bright red plumed helmets easily seen above the crowd.
As we neared the Administration building, we could see the musicians, their white uniforms with gold buttons, and red and green fasci across their proud chests. Above the shop and cafes were apartments, their balconies overflowing with tenants, their relatives and friends. All watched with delight the spectacle before them as they waited for Il Duce. Children were perched high on fathers' shoulders, watching the festivities with happy smiles and puzzled looks. Adding to the din, the shrill cries of seagulls flying lazily above, as if they too, were celebrating the day.
Suddenly, the band started to play the Fascist Anthem, and shouts rose from the crowd..."Il Duce...he's here!" All was quiet, except for the band. Caterina and I were standing on the Administration Building's wide steps with our classmates. We could see over the crowd without craning our necks. Approaching the entrance of the Piazza, was a double file of 12 Carabiniere, marching in step to the Anthem, the red plumes of their helmets fluttering in the breeze. It took a few minutes for the Carabiniere to get to the grandstand. They stopped in front of the wooden steps that led to the dais. Caterina whispered to me.
"Lina...Do you see Il Duce? I don't see him."
I had to admit, I didn't see him either.
"So what do think, Caterina? Maybe he decided not to come?"
A cheer went up, as a small figure in Facist uniform, emerged from the circle of Carabiniere, and stiffly climbed the steps to the platform.
"This is Il Duce?", whispered Caterina with a giggle.
I covered my mouth and joined in the soto voce laughter. Some of our classmates hands over mouths and redfaced, tried desperately to hide their amusement. It got worse, as Il Duce started to speak in his staccato voice. Every time he jutted out his jaw and postured, or pursed his lips, our faces grimaced with pain as we tried to keep from laughing outloud.
"Dio mio! When is he going to stop? I can't stand it anymore. I'm going to pipi in my pants!", mumbled Caterina.
Finally the end came. Il Duce gave us his last salute, and trotted down the stairs, disappearing into the sea of bright red plumed helmets of the Carabiniere.
As the band played, the Carabiniere, red plumes aflutter, marched out of the Piazza, Il Duce lost somewhere in their midst.
Caterina and I headed for the nearest bathroom. It would be of no consequence to Caterina and me, if we never saw Il Duce again.
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