IL BUCO

The curiosities of the little Maria who had far greater dreams than to just be a farm girl in a small country town in Abruzzo were ubiquitous.

Innocently unaware of the happenings of the time. It was 1942 and they were soon to be discovered. The family was fortunate that her brothers and father weren't sent off to fight on the battlefield. Her brothers were too young, and her father too old.

"Prendevano queli giovani. Hanno preso il fratello del nonno...he was young at that time."

"They took the younger ones. They took grandfather's brother..."

Through the darkness of the night, and the guidance of the moonlight, Maria's father headed towards the stream. Further away from their home, and closer to safety, it was concealed by bushes and surrounded by mountains.

Almost too emotional to say goodbye to, he carried with him all of his hard work on the field, and his family's rations for the next few months before he found a spot on the ground soft enough to dig.

"Io mi ricordo quando mio padre prendeva il grano, l'olio tutta questa roba. Ha fatto un buco sotto la terra...ha messo tutto la dentro."

"I remember when my father took the grains, the oils, all of this food. He made a hole under the ground...he put everything inside it."

"E dopo, la chiuso."

"And after, he closed it."

When everything was over he returned to the stream and took everything back. He was right; the further away from home, the closer to safety.

There was nothing left in their house that made it a home after the war. The Germans took everything.