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in the North of Italy.

It would seem that many Italian soldiers are refusing to fight with the Germans. These soldiers are well-armed and are joining either Badoglio's army or that of the Communists.

I imagine that our Signora S. thinks that we are excluding her from our plenty. I have tried to state facts as they stand: the villa sequestrated; an American "padrona" with no hold on the peasants. When the Americans are winning, Tomalino, one of the peasants, comes forward with a sweet smile holding a small basket of sour grapes or hard peaches. Should the Germans be winning, then even these titbits are not forthcoming. Our respective portions of oil or grain are scrupulously dealt out to us by Carabinieri, not a drop of oil or a single grain more than is our due. Being naturally hospitable I often find myself offering what I do not possess. We are both glad not to see too much of our "sfollati". I even try to forget them.

October 7th. An alarm at 11 this morning. We all met in the make-shift refuge and sat on the camp-stools between the three wooden pillars that are supposed to be strong enough to support the whole house should it fall on them. So says the mason, but I sincerely hope that these pillars may never be put to such a test. I was feeling the effects of a recent cold and fever and so I could scarcely bear looking at the two "sfollati" opposite me. I was,however, forced