The Fiat, and The Grenade

Sicily | 1943

Corrado smirked, then disappeared back into the belly of the concealed bed. Rosalie re-tied the knot to the tarp, then climbed into the passenger seat. The partition had partially closed during the hectic stop, so she used her fingers to fully open it. Corrado’s head was directly on the other side, getting as close as humanly possible. This made her giggle, adding a little comfort to the rumbling sound of an accelerating engine.

“Do you recognize this area?” Garret asked while Rosalie buckled her waist belt.

She opened her mouth to respond, but Corrado’s eager voice was already consuming Garret’s ears with directions.

“At the end of this road, you should come to a main service road. Turn right, and follow it.”

Rosalie studied her brother’s coordinates in her head, and grinned.

Cresting over a slight ridge, Garret was about to ask Rosalie to confirm Corrado’s instructions when he saw the cross road Corrado mentioned. Rolling to a much softer stop this time, he peered left, then right, then looked at Rosalie for one final confirmation.

Rosalie mimicked Garret. She looked left, then right, then to him, then to her brother, then finally back to him.

“Left,” she said, softly.

Garret turned the large steering wheel hand over hand to the left, then pressed the accelerator to the floor. The acceleration was slow, but the engine was loud, roaring with aggression as the pistons hammered the weathered, rubber tires forward.

She could sense the immediate shift in demeanor within her brother when she heard him sigh, close the partition save for an inch or two, then slide back down to the floor of the bed. She knew he was disappointed, but she also knew that their best chance of surviving the trip to Mount Etna was with Garret’s help.

“How far down this road are we going?” Garret asked.

“This road will take us back into town,” she said, sternly, “About ten minutes.”

“Canicatti?” Garret asked with intensity.

“Yes,” she said, staring out of the window into the war-torn landscape of her homeland.

Military planes of all different shapes and sizes buzzed high, and low overhead. Distant booms from missiles, and nonstop streams of gunfire echoed in every direction. She wished the truck’s engine could roar louder, so she played with the idea of stretching out her left foot until she could press down onto Garret’s boot. The possible outcome of such an act however, could leave them overturned on the side of the road with horrible injuries. Or worse.

She repelled her leg to her side of the cabin, and continued to stare out of the window. She tried to devise a plan of action for when they inevitably arrived in the main square of Canicatti, because surely the entire town would be crawling with American, and British soldiers. Once they, and their mission became known, the odds of getting back out of town, and to Mount Etna lessened immensely.

She reflected on the promise of safe passage that Garret made to her and her brother, but she knew the reality of being a soldier. He was just another well-polished cog in a much larger, sophisticated, agenda driven machine. The people, and men, he claimed could help them in their overwhelming efforts could never truly be trusted with their task. There was a reason her parents sent them the violin, and no one else. If they trusted a foreign military, then why not send it to one of the allied governments. There was clearly a deeper level to everything that was going on, and she was determined to see it through.

“You know, you may not believe me, but I understand the pressure you and Corrado are under.”

Garret waited to see her facial expression react, but she kept it pointed towards the trees beyond her window. So he continued to prod her.

“The night before we deployed to the Mediterranean, our battalion’s Lieutenant Colonel told us a story about the future. He told us what would happen if Germany, and the axis powers win the war. He told us that it was now our job to prevent that from happening. He said, Many of you will die, but that is the sacrifice required to ensure a peaceful future for those who survive. The fear in the words of a man who was supposed to be fearless added a frightening level of impossibility to an already insurmountable obstacle. They sent us, thousands of teenage boys, to save the planet from a crippling evil. So I think it’s fair to say I can relate to you, and Corrado.”

Rosalie finally turned her face from the dirt smudged window, and looked at Garret. His dark eyes bounced back and forth from her and the road, impatiently awaiting a response or at least a reaction to his moment of vulnerability. She smiled at his inability to not fidget, then returned her gaze to the world beyond her window, and spoke into the glass.

“Maybe a little.”

Garret wanted to press on with the conversation, maybe get a few more smiles sent his way, but he was momentarily distracted by an approaching military vehicle rounding the distant bend in the road which crossed over the dividing line, and sped straight towards them.

Garret knew what was about to happen, and needed to act quickly, and swiftly, or else he was sure they would be fired upon.

“I need you to hold on,” he said.

Rosalie noticed the approaching vehicle, and its mounted gun when it crossed into their lane. She readied her pistol in one hand, braced her feet against the floor, and waited for what was going to happen next. She was about to yank the partition back and inform her brother of the situation, but Garret’s abrupt slamming on the brakes propelled her forward.

The truck came to a screeching, skidding stop, and the partition exploded open showcasing the pissed off, reddened face of Corrado. He first cursed in Italian, but wanting Garret to understand his anger, he switched back to a heavily accented, aggravated English.

“Who the fuck taught you how to drive?”

Rosalie was reaching down below her seat to retrieve her pistol which she dropped when she slammed into the dashboard.

“You won’t be needing that,” Garret said, “Stay inside of the truck. All of you. I will handle this.”

Before anyone had the chance to protest, Garret opened the door, and hopped out of the truck. He placed his rifle down onto the pavement, and raised both his hands above his head, then yelled out to the soldiers in the slowly approaching vehicle.

“Do not fire. I am Sergeant Garret McLaughlin, with the 505th Parachute Infantry Regiment. I am transporting civilians to the safety of Canicatti. Do not fire.”

Corrado was trying to squeeze his frame through the partition to get a better view, but was unable to get his one-hundred seventy-five pound hips through the narrow opening.

“What’s happening, Rosie? Who are those men?”

“I don’t know. Get back inside of the bed, get your shotgun and prepare yourself.”

“Prepare myself for what?”

“Anything.”

Corrado wiggled in reverse until his body was free. He informed the other two passengers of the delay, armed himself with the shotgun, then poked his head back through the partition. Looking through the streaky windshield, he and Rosalie watched as Garret shook the hands of two uniformed men, exchanged something small, then jogged back towards the supply truck.

Garret opened the driver-side door, and ascended into the seat.

“Who are those men?” Rosalie asked, “What deal did you just make?”

Garret shifted the transmission back into drive, then began slowly rolling the supply truck forward, picking up speed as they passed by the armed vehicle crammed with soldiers.

“One of those men is a British Naval officer. The other is a U.S Army captain. They’re on their way to link up with an advancing regiment in a town called Montedoro. They also informed me that Canicatti is only a few more miles down this road, and that we successfully occupy it.”

Rosalie and Corrado digested the last few words of Garret’s story together in silence. First it was the Germans, and fascists loyalists. Now, it’s the Americans and the British. Their homeland had been invaded, desolated, then reoccupied in a span of a few weeks. The fleeting reality of life before the war seeped further into the abyss with every passing second. Life after the war, for all who survive, will depend on the decisions they choose to make. Rosalie could respect the weight of that burden, but she feared it would be too much for Corrado.

“And what of your little exchange. Did you think we wouldn’t see that?” Corrado said, suspiciously from just beyond the partition.

Garret laughed while he plucked a pack of lucky strike cigarettes from his chest pocket.

“Nothing gets past you, Corrado,” Garret said, handing the younger boy the pack, along with a fresh book of matches.

Not knowing how to say thank you, Corrado simply snatched the pack from Garret’s fingers and stuffed them into his own pocket.

“Once we arrive, we will need to find Lieutenant Gardner,” Garret said, “He will know who to get the music sheet to.”

“There is no time for that, Sergeant. We need to get to the church of Saint Agatha. Ulrich is still out there, which means he’s hunting us,” Rosalie said.

“And that is why regrouping with the Lieutenant is our best option. Canicatti is under U.S, and British occupation. Your hunters aren’t getting in. It’s the safest place for both of you, and it’s the safest place for the music sheet.”

“You don’t understand, Sergeant,” Rosalie began, “Ulrich is a monster. He’s not going to let your occupation of our town stop him from getting to us.”

“I need you to trust me, Rosalie. I need you both to trust me. I’m not going to let anything happen to either of you. I promise -”

The pavement in front of the supply truck suddenly exploded. Large chunks of burning asphalt rained down onto the front end of the truck. The windshield shattered above the driver’s seat, and shards of glass blew down onto Garrett’s face.

Garret cried out in pain, and used his hands to protect his eyes from any further damage.

Rosalie reached across the cab, and grabbed onto the steering wheel.

She yanked it hard to the left to avoid hitting the crater, but was brutally thwarted when another explosion tore a massive hole in the road directly in front of where she just maneuvered the truck.