“I won’t make a report that will make trouble for his family.” I went on with our conversation.
“If the war is over it makes no difference,” Piani said. “But I don’t believe it’s over. It’s too good that it should be over.”
“We’ll know pretty soon,” I said.
“I don’t believe it’s over. They all think it’s over but I don’t believe it.”
“ Viva la Pace! ” a soldier shouted out. “We’re going home!”
“It would be fine if we all went home,” Piani said. “Wouldn’t you like to go home?”
“Yes.”
“We’ll never go. I don’t think it’s over.”
“ Andiamo a casa! ” a soldier shouted.
“They throw away their rifles,” Piani said. “They take them off and drop them down while they’re marching. Then they shout.”
“They ought to keep their rifles.”
“They think if they throw away their rifles they can’t make them fight.”
In the dark and the rain, making our way along the side of the road I could see that many of the troops still had their rifles. They stuck up above the capes.
“What brigade are you?” an officer called out.