HOW TO LEARN ITALIAN FRIENDLY

HOW TO LEARN ITALIAN FRIENDLY

http://xoomer.alice.it/learn_italian/

you can get in my website everything you need to learn and practice Italian: Italian tv channels; a lot of English-Italian novels to read and listen; grammar notes; text chat or voice chat, English-Italian forum and many other things
Nothing commercial here but only friendly

ROME TIME: TIME TO LEARN ITALIAN

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writings TO CORRECT mail I get and correct
GRAMMAR NOTES Just little Italian Grammar notes
ITALIAN SUBJUNCTIVE How to use Italian Subjunctive
BEGINNING ITALIAN AUDIO AND TEXT-FILES BEGINNERS LEVEL

READ AND LISTEN

IL GIGANTE EGOISTA by OSCAR WILDE READ AND LISTEN
IL PRINCIPE FELICE by OSCAR WILDE READ AND LISTEN
PINOCCHIO by CARLO COLLODI READ AND LISTEN
IL FU MATTIA PASCAL THE LATE MATTIA PASCAL by LUIGI PIRANDELLO READ AND LISTEN
UNO SPIRITO IN UN LAMPONE A GHOST INTO A RASPBERRY by IGINO UGO TARCHETTI READ AND LISTEN
I VICERE' THE VICEROYS by FEDERICO DE ROBERTO READ AND LISTEN
LA COSCIENZA DI ZENO CONFESSIONS OF ZENO by ITALO SVEVO READ AND LISTEN
I MALAVOGLIA MALAVOGLIA FAMILY by GIOVANNI VERGA READ AND LISTEN
MASTRO CATRAME stories by EMILIO SALGARI READ AND LISTEN

READ ENGLISH - ITALIAN

I REMEMBER Absurd war
TO MARRY The lady and the servant
PRIVATE QUESTION Flight to Philadelphia
THE GIRLFRIEND Restarting
MY HUSBAND Not so bad

CANTON TICINO Switzerland Cantone where Italian is spoken
READING ROYAL PALACE OF CASERTA, CONCILIATION STREET, NOMENTANO BRIDGE, EMPEROR HADRIAN, THE TEMPLE OF VESTA, THE BOOK OF SPECTACLES, ITALIAN HISTORY IN PILLS, LATET ANGUIS IN HERBA, MAJESTY PLURAL IN 1859, SHE WOLF OF ROME; LIVIUS I-4, ARA PACIS AUGUSTAE, PANTHEON OF AGRIPPA
OSTIA short history of Ostia

Private question - Questione privata

This story is completely fictional. Any similarities to any persons or events, past or present are purely coincidental.

PRIVATE QUESTION

(scroll down for Italian version)

- Slowly, drive slowly… check everything out and let you rest if it’s necessary…
- I’ll be there as soon as possible… you can bet it… as soon as possible…
- No! Please… take a train or a plane… don’t drive all night long… please take a plane…
- Yeah… I’ll take a plane, perhaps it could be faster… don’t worry, I’ll be there as soon as possible…
- You have to promise you’ll control yourself…
- Yes I promise, I promise but now let me go to search for a flight… I’ll call you back from the airport…
- Good… see you soon…

At about 80 I'm an older man, my wife is just about 60… I had better to let them do whatever she was doing… she is a business woman and has a lot of important things to do, she carries always her computer and is always on the net selling and buying I don’t know what… But how could such a woman marry to me, a man more than 20 years older? She was 20 at that time, when we met… the roaring sixties! … I met her by chance at a party, she went on chatting al the time and I didn’t even noticed it, I was so wrapped in my thoughts about the novel I was writing at that time that I never noticed her attempt to get in touch with me… then she got my Achilles heel, she got next to me and asked me about my novel… I started to show off to her like I never did before… she went on asking and I didn’t even think that she was asking about me, not about my novel… How men can be silly in such situations! … And probably I was at the highest degree… She asked for my phone number and I gave her it. Then I went to Europe… and got back only after six months … that’s incredible, but the first phone call I got was her call. She needed some bibliography about English literature to insert in her graduation thesis… short… she came to visit me just that afternoon…
- Good evening Miss Cowley… make yourself comfortable… how can I help you? You told me about Faulkner, didn’t you?
- Yes I told you so but I’m not so interested in Faulkner…
- Well… and what are you interested in?
- You!
- Me?
- Yes… I have been waiting for this moment for more than six months… I wandered whether or not I had to tell you… and finally I found the nerve to speak clearly… If you don’t agree you have to tell me right away… and I’ll go away immediately… do you understand? … Are you interested?
I had been caught out… and didn’t know what to answer to her question…
- Miss Cowley I’m very pleased but don’t know what to answer… you know … you are a pretty woman and I’m an man over 40… what have I to offer you? You’d find something better elsewhere, didn’t you?
- You only have to tell me if you are interested… no matter other questions… are you interested or not?
- Well… I’m certainly just a little but we have to understand each other… I’m not going to marry neither to do something strange… I like you… that’s true but no more than that…
- Yes, I understand, and it’s enough for me… but you have always to tell the truth… do you understand?
- All right… well, if you like we can have something together, then I’ll bring you back home…
- Good… I’m searching nothing else, it’s enough for me to stay hare… really, it’s enough…
- Can I ask you something…
- Of course you can…
- But why me? There are a lot of men over the world, much more young, much more in shape, much more interesting… why me?
- I don’t know but I feel you’re special, I red your last novel… and I thought Mary is me… was it a real story or only something you created out of the blue?
- I think… Mary is… how can I tell you…
- Is your ideal woman?
- No! … Mary is something like myself…
- Yourself? …
- Yeah… it sounds strange … but I’m Mary, obviously you have to change something… she gets the nerve to take her choice, to get out of family to search for her own life. She don’t like the live and let live theory, she don’t like to sponge on an husband…
- Do you think Mary is in love with someone?
- You think Mary or me? … well… I think she really is…
- Oh… I think I did everything wrong…
- Not necessary… clearly you didn’t expect such a response…
- No… I really didn’t… perhaps I’m only a stupid girl … right … you can be in love with whoever you like… you are over 40, clearly your have your own world and I’m in the land of dreams… thanks… I’m going now…
- Just a moment… I’m not in love with you, but I like you, I know the difference, but I like you… I really like you…
- Really?
- Yes, really!
- You have to tell me where I have to stop… you got me out and I’ disoriented…
- Sometimes something can open the way to something unexpected… for you and for me too…
- Yes, but I think your life will not change because of me…
- Perhaps not the life, but something will change… I’m telling you the truth, I’m not deceiving you…
- That’s enough… I’ll never ask questions about your private life… but if you think my presence in your life could be disturbing or distressing you have to tell me… I can take the second place, also the third if it’s necessary, but I can’t tolerate lying…
- This way you can come here whenever you like …
- And couldn’t I meet your…
- No… we never meet here…
- And is there some trace of that person in your novel?
- Not at all… that’s a private question and I can tell about myself but never about something that doesn’t belong only to me…
- Therefore you’ll never write novels about me…
- No… I will never…
- Too bad! I like to be a novel’s character.
- But you aren’t…
- You’re right… and what are we going to chat about then?
- For instance about what you are searching for… I mean here… because, you know, there is something strange…
- No! … you have to avoid being too nosy… you too!
- You’re right… I’ll remember…

Our story started this way, we got along for years and became aware of each other more and more… Then I told her I needed about six months to spend on my private… she understood… She was 42 then, and I was 62… I went to Pennsylvania and called her from Philadelphia every day, she asked me every day: How do things go?
At the beginning of November, after forth months, I called her from Philadelphia for the last time.
- I’m coming back tomorrow in the evening can you get me at the airport? I did whatever I had to do in Philadelphia… (And she understood).
- I’m very sad... it’s terrible…
We met at the airport, I was destroyed and depressed, she told nothing, neither asked me anything… it was November 1984, we where living in the same apartment from 1980, in front of the word we where like a married couple and we went on this way without any official marriage… then at 65 I put forward my proposal.
- Would you like to marry me?
- Of course…
And she kissed me… the first kiss…
Neither of us had relatives… the ceremony was very simple… She, me, the registrar.

I broke my long bone and lay plastered in an hospital bed… old people have to be careful wit the long bone, she knows well, that’s why she’s coming here...

QUESTIONI PRIVATE

- Piano, guida piano, controlla tutto e riposati se è necessario...
- Sarò lì il più presto possibile... ci puoi scommettere... il più presto possibile...
- No! Per favore... prendi il treno o l'aereo... non guidare per tutta la notte... per favore prendi l'aereo...
- Ve bene, prenderò l'aereo, forse potrebbe essere più rapido... non ti preoccupare... sarò lì il più presto possibile...
- Devi promettermi che starai attenta...
- Sì, prometto, prometto, ma adesso lasciamo andare a cercare un volo... ti richiamerò dall'aeroporto...
- Bene... ci vediamo presto...

A ottant'anni sono un vecchio, mia moglie sta circa intorno ai sessanta... avrei fatto meglio a farle fare quello che stava facendo, qualunque cosa fosse... lei è una donna d'affari ed ha una quantità di cose importanti da fare, si porta sempre appresso il suo computer e sta sempre su internet vendendo e comprando non so che cosa... Ma come ha potuto una donna simile sposare me, un uomo più vecchio di oltre vent'anni? Aveva vent'anni allora, quando ci siamo conosciuti... i ruggenti anni sessanta! ... L'ho incontrata per caso a una festa, continuava a chiacchierare tutto il tempo e io non l'avevo nemmeno notato, ero così assorto nei miei pensieri sul romanzo che allora stavo scrivendo che non avevo fatto caso al suo tentativo di rimanere in contatto con me... poi lei ha trovato il mio tallone di Achille, si è avvicinata e mi ha chiesto del mio romanzo... io ho cominciato a mettermi in mostra davanti a lei come non avevo mai fatto prima... lei è andata avanti a chiedere e io non capivo nemmeno che stava chiedendo di me e non del mio romanzo. Come possono essere stupidi gli uomini in queste situazioni! ... E probabilmente io lo ero al massimo grado... Mi ha chiesto il numero ti telefono e io gliel'ho dato. Poi sono andato in Europa... e sono ritornato indietro soltanto dopo sei mesi... è incredibile, ma la prima telefonata che ho ricevuto è stata la sua. Aveva bisogno di un po' di bibliografia da inserire nella sua tesi, in breve..., è venuta a trovarmi proprio quel pomeriggio...
- Buon pomeriggio, signorina Cowley... si accomodi... come posso aiutarla? Mi ha parlato di Faulkner, non è vero?
- Sì... le ho detto così ma non sono così interessata a Faulkner...
- Bene... e a che cosa è interessata?
- A lei!
- A me?
-Sì... ho aspettato questo momento per più di sei mesi... mi chiedevo se dovessi dirglielo o no ... e poi ho trovato il coraggio di parlare chiaramente... se non è d'accordo me lo deve dire subito e io me ne andrò immediatamente... ha capito? ... E' interessato?
Io ero stato preso di sorpresa e non sapevo che cosa rispondere alla sua domanda...
- Signorina Cowley sono molto lusingato ma non so che cosa rispondere, sa, lei è una bella ragazza e io sono un uomo sopra i quaranta... che cosa posso offrirle. Potrebbe trovare qualcosa di meglio da qualche altra parte, non è così?
- Lei deve solo dirmi se è interessato, le altre questioni non hanno importanza... è interessato o no?
- Bene... lo sono certamente un po' ma ci dobbiamo capire, non intendo sposarmi e nemmeno fare cose strane... lei mi piace, questo è vero, ma non di più di questo.
Sì, capisco e mi basta... ma lei deve dire sempre la verità, ha capito?
- Va bene, giusto, se vuole possiamo mangiare qualcosa insieme, poi la riaccompagnerò a casa.
- Bene... non vado cercando nien'altro, mi basta stare qui, mi basta...
- Posso chiederle qualcosa...
- Certo che può...
- Ma perché io? C'è una quantità di uomini al mondo, molto più giovani, molto più in forma, molto più interessanti... perché io?
- Non lo so, ma sento che lei è speciale, ho letto il suo ultimo romanzo... e ho pensato che Mary sono io... era una storia vera o solo una cosa che lei ha inventato del tutto?
- Io credo... che Mary sia... come posso dirlo...
- E' la sua donna ideale
- No! ... Mary è qualcosa di simile a me...
- A lei?
- Sì, suona strano... ma Mary sono io, ovviamente deve cambiare qualcosa... lei ha il coraggio di fare la sua scelta, di uscire dalla famiglia per cercare la sua vera vita, non ama la teorie del vivi e lascia vivere, non le piace vivere alle spalle di un marito...
- Pensa che Mary sia innamorata di qualcuno?
- Ma intende Mary o io? ... bene... io penso che in realtà sia innamorata...
- Oh... credo di avere sbagliato tutto...
- Non necessariamente... ovviamente lei non si aspettava una risposta simile...
- No, veramente non me l'aspettavo... forse sono solo una ragazza stupida... è vero... lei può essere innamorato di chiunque le piaccia, ha più di 40 anni, chiaramente ha il suo mondo e io vivo nel mondo dei sogni... grazie... adesso me ne vado...
- Solo un momento... non sono innamorato di lei ma lei mi piace, la differenza la conosco, ma lei mi piace..., mi piace veramente...
- Veramente?
- Sì, veramente!
- Lei deve dirmi dove devo fermarmi, mi ha colto di sorpresa e sono disorientata...
- Qualche volta qualcosa può aprire la strada a cose inaspettate... per lei e anche per me...
- Sì, ma io credo che la sua vita non cambierà per causa mia...
- Forse non la vita ma qualcosa cambierà, le sto dicendo la verità, non la sto imbrogliando...
- Mi basta... non farò mai domande sulla sua vita privata... ma se pensa che la mia presenza nella sua vita possa disturbare o creare problemi me lo deve dire... poso accettare il secondo e anche il terzo posto, se è necessario, ma non posso tollerare le bugie...
- In questo modo lei può venire qui quando vuole...
- E non potrei incontrare...
- No... non ci vediamo mai qui...
- E ci sono tracce di questa persona nel suo romanzo?
- Assolutamente no ... è una questione privata e io posso parlare di me stesso ma mai di qualcosa che non appartiene soltanto a me...
- Quindi non scriverà mai romanzi su di me...
- No, non lo farò mai...
- Peccato! Mi piace essere un personaggio da romanzo.
- Ma lei non lo è...
- Ha ragione... e allora di che cosa possiamo parlare?
- Per esempio di quello che lei sta cercando... voglio dire qui... perché, sa, c'è qualcosa di strano...
- No! ... Deve evitare di essere troppo ficcanaso... anche lei!
- Ha ragione... lo ricorderò...
- La nostra storia è cominciata in questo modo, siamo andati avanti per anni e siamo diventati sempre più consapevoli l'uno dell'altro... Poi le ho detto che mi servivano più o meno sei mesi da dedicare al mio privato... lei ha capito... Aveva 42 anni allora e io 62... Sono andato in Pennsylvania e l'ho chiamata ogni giorno da Philadelphia, mi chiedeva ogni giorno: Come vanno le cose?
All'inizio di novembre, dopo quattro mesi,l'ho chiamata da Philadelphia per l'ultima volta...
- Torno domani pomeriggio, puoi venire a prendermi all'aeroporto? A Philadelphia ho fatto tutto quello che dovevo fare (E lei ha capito).
- Sono molto triste... è terribile...
- Ci siamo incontrati all'aeroporto, io ero distrutto e depresso, lei non ha detto nulla né mi ha chiesto nulla... era il novembre del 1984. Noi vivevamo nello stesso appartamento dal 1980, di fronte al mondo eravamo come una coppia sposata e abbiamo continuato così senza nessun matrimonio ufficiale... poi a 65 anni ho avanzato la mia proposta.
- Vuoi sposarmi?
- Certo...
E mi ha dato un bacio... il primo bacio...
Nessuno di noi due aveva parenti... la cerimonia è stata semplicissima... Lei, io e l'ufficiale di stato civile.

Mi sono rotto il femore e sto steso ingessato in un letto di ospedale... i vecchi devono stare attenti con il femore, lei lo sa bene, è per questo che sta venendo qui...

TO MARRY

TO MARRY

I got stuck in traffic for several hours. It took me all day to drive home. Home sweet home! … washing up, making beds, floor cleaning, dusting, cooking… We eventually wed after an eighteen year engagement and I have been living in wedded bliss for almost half a year, then… my role changed slowly, from lover to wife, from wife to housewife, from housewife to housekeeper, from housekeeper to cleaning woman and finally from cleaning woman to servant.

He was convincing and persuasive: “Sweetie… you’re getting older… how can you get along without me? … Sweetie… I love you… we fell in love far-back and I can’t do without you… Sweetie… I only care about you, about your future… I’ll make you a lady, you’ll really be a lady (probably he meant a bag lady!), I’ll help you every way, you have to resign and to devote yourself to me, to your husband, you’ll be the tower of strength of your family, the base, the help, the backing, the support of your family… Sweetie… we are a family. Aren’t we?”

My mother, a grown woman, … a married woman, told me: “Give him up right away… kick him out! … You are silly, what are you waiting for? Baby, he’s searching for an housekeeper low cost… Baby you are about 40 years old… do you really think he’s searching for a lover? If a man woos a woman with flowers and expensive presents he’s really in love, but if a man woos a woman only chitchatting about love… he’s clearly searching for a servant. Get married at 40 is a terrible ordeal… let me tell you! I married at 25 and became a servant into a weak… Baby, keep away from men about 40…”.

Well… we married… I resigned as secretary… and started overworking at home… He never helped me… He liked only his armchair, his slippers and his newspaper. I remember just three days after wedding, he was on the phone I entered the room and kissed him gently… but he was too busy talking to notice me come in. Do you understand what kind of man my husband is? And my mother told me: “His refusal to cooperate is completely understandable, considering the circumstances. Both sides must try to understand one another, to recognise each others' rights, feelings and beliefs… before wedding… otherwise they have to keep apart! Baby, the wedding has hits rules…”.

My husband is somehow repetitive: “Why don’t you do this? … Why don’t you do that? Tomorrow is Sunday… would you like to show my mother how skilled you became in cooking? I’m sure you’d like…isn’t it? Sweetie, I know you’ll make a good impression… I told my mother you are the sweetest wife in the world… Aren’t you?”.

And when the holyday time approaches he needs to rest, clearly he made an incredible effort reading newspapers and looking to the football matches. And he’s so good-hearted he can’t get along without his mother and his sister and his brother-in-law, they are a family… they are my family… and we must take vacations together… he told me: “You’ll have a good time! My relatives know very well how kind you are!”

We went to a sea site… and we hired a little house just near the sea, two big rooms and one little, probably the servant’s room. According to my point of view, the first big room was or my husband and me, the second for my brother-in-law an his wife and the little one for my mother-in-law… but she needed the big one because she is suffering from claustrophobia… therefore she got the big one with his son and I… obviously, the little one… the servant’s room… this way everything was going on according to the wedding rules.

He, his mother, his sister and her husband where in the habit of going out, all the four of them, just after breakfast… I had to stay at home to prepare for lunch… My husband told me: “We’re going to see such a boring things… you know well how they like cultural things… but it’s not your matter, I know you like better to stay at home cooking something special for us… don’t you?”… Well… they got back… everything was ready… his mother told me: “My beloved… I’m terribly tired… what you cooked is very very delicious but I’d like better just a pottage… if you are too busy I can cook it myself … but I’m so tired (and she sighed)”… My brother-in-law went on speaking on his mobile about prices, estate business, and a lot of other interesting arguments. It was just in then that a new thought fleshed in my brain… something compulsive, something that became for me an absolute need… About a year ago I had started a new job as a secretary, a part time job, at that time I wasn’t aware of the consequences that would come from my new job. My husband clearly dissented, according to him I was a lady and needn’t work at all… but I signed all the same.

I got only a little money… but I saved it… and that flash was about how to spend my savings… you know, lawyers are expensive but sometimes is well worth it for the freedom they give you. This time I’d liked better to get along with a lawyer than with my husband!

Eventually holyday-time ended and we got back home and I didn’t change anything in my behaviour… next Sunday the usual lunch with his relatives, I prepared, or I’d say better I pretended to prepare everything for lunch… when they took place around the table I showed up with a big neckerchief around my head: “I’m sorry… but today I’m very tired… Mommy, my beloved… I’m terribly tired… I wasn’t able to cook anything… perhaps you can help me… I’d like better just a pottage… if you are too busy I can cook it myself … but I’m so tired (and I sighed)”.

They looked very perplexed, something was going wrong… Then I went on: “Mummy… I know you are very skilled in cooking… aren’t you? … I think you all are willing to help me… isn’t it? … Thanks… you are very kind persons… I’ll never forget…”. They where uncertain whether or not take heed of me… finally my sister-in-law headed for the kitchen and started cooking… My husband was upset: “Are you fine, Sweetie? There’s something I can’t understand”. “Nothing to worry… I’m just a little tired….

I took place and my sister-in-law made everything. The silence was perfect, no football games, no mobiles, neither chitchatting… they where only waiting for me to tell something… but I went on only sighing from time to time.

Then the bell rang, I told my husband: “Sweetie… can you open for me?”. He did. It was the postman that gave him a registered mail… he opened it and looked distressed and devastated… I told him immediately: “Sweetie… I’m sorry, I’m so absent-minded that I forgot to tell you I’ve seen my lawyer to get a divorce… nothing to worry about…”.

I REMEMBER

It was a very different season of my life, I was young, self confident, a little selfish. I hadn’t concrete ideas about real life, about what life could really be. I was going to face a lot of terrible things but, at that time, war was nothing else for me than an adventure, something I certainly would have faced with no worries at all… something to start, to do, and then to remember, something glorious… like soldiers on parade when military band plays frisky marches, with drums and trumpets… war was for me just the right opportunity to gain medals, to show ma bravery… to help my comrades in arms… To make the long story short I was only a twenty years old young man perfectly naïve, a fall guy, filled up with dreams and wishes… I was going to face the war and I was happy… very absurd!
At the beginning war seamed rally not very different from something exciting… I was doing well with my comrades and officers where very allowing and permissive, they probably where aware of what we where going to face. I remember that we where waiting to ship and a colonel just before shipping, asked me something about war. I had to answer and showed all my military background and told him about duty, about glory and so on… he looked at me, then shook his head and told me: “No, boy, war is something terrible you have to face other guys like you, perhaps you’ll have to kill them or to be killed… war is a fearful thing… have a nice trip and take care”. Then I shipped… and the colonel’s words continued to upset me, he was an older man and was talking to me friendly, officers generally used very different words… During the navigation we where told to wear our life jackets and to gather at bow, no one was really in a hurry, it was only a fire drill or a torpedo drill, but the ship continued to go regularly. Not an air attack, not even enemy aircrafts, neither enemy ships, nothing at all… we sailed with all lights turned off, a sailor told us that it was according to the orders to avoid being detected by the enemy crafts, he told us we where sailing slow speed because engines at high speed can be easily detected by the sonar that submarines carry.
After eight days of such distressing, life we got off and went ashore… We where told to present immediately to the harbour’s commandant. We where ordered to dig trenches around the airport and so we did…
It was only in my fifth day that things really changed. I and three other soldiers where ordered to explore the path toward the oasis, they told us to pay attention because enemies where encamped over there. We hesitated but soldiers can’t discuss orders, they have to perform duties, therefore we went riding four desert motorcycles, we had been ordered to go ahead no more than twenty kilometres but our fuel supply allowed us about 400 km. When we got the first oasis we decided to go ahead for another twenty km, just to the next group of little oases… and that was our ruin… we where thirsty and according to our maps in one of the oases there was a little spring. But enemies where nearby… suddenly out of nowhere a bomb bursted, my three comrades where killed and I was shot and passed out. Everything happened so quickly that I can remember just a flesh.
I woke up at a little military camp-hospital, clearly I had been captivated… my chest hurt a lot. I was uncertain whether or not call for aid, but my chest did hurt badly and finally I called for aid. There was a young nurse nearby, she came, unleashed my patches and run to call the doctor. The doctor cleaned up my wound and gestured for me to stay quiet because my wound wasn’t really something to worry about too much… I nodded and smiled in response. The doctor smiled back… then I tried to ask about my comrades, I repeated my question but they clearly wasn’t able to understand… then I tried in French, just my little school-French… and this time they understood, The doctor shook his head and told “no”. I started crying desperately… the doctor held my hand fore some seconds then told me: “Vous avez eu une très bonne chance, on va vous mettre hors de cet hôpital, je crois, en quatre ou cinq jours, vous êtes blessé d’une façon très faible… vous le savez bien, vous allez être interné dans un établissement jusqu’à la fin de la guerre. Elle va se prendre cure de vous. [You had a very good luck, we will put you out of this hospital, I hope, in four or five days, you are wounded in a very weak way… you know well, you’ll be interned in an establishment until the end of the war. She will take care of you.]
She was smiling, we just talked for few minutes… we where enemies, our comrades had been killed by their soldiers… killed. Just yesterday they where alive and after 24 hours they where buried in the desert. I starter crying newly, this time I was aware of what had happened… but my face was tear-strained. Nevertheless the doctor had spent his time speaking to me and she (what was her name?) was here, gently caressing my hand and drying my tears. How absurd is war!