MY FATHER, WILBER CONLEY, AND THE ITALIAN P.O.W.
By Duane F. Conley
My father,
Wilber Franklin Conley (1919-1984), served in the Army Air Corps (predecessor
of today’s Air Force) during WW II. He was in a ground crew unit, providing
maintenance support for the bombing raids over Nazi-occupied Europe that were
being staged out of North Africa. When I was growing up Dad used to tell me a
lot of stories about his experiences during the war. Here is one of my
favorites (as best I can remember it after so many years). It is a short and
simple story, but to me it is an important part of remembering Dad.
Background.
Mussolini,
Hitler’s European ally, had grand dreams of a second Roman Empire in North
Africa. Unfortunately for him, Italian troops fared badly against the British
in the early years of the war, resulting in thousands of Italian P.O.W.’s. One
of these wound up in a work crew which Dad supervised (unloading supplies, as I
recall, while Dad operated the crane). Apparently they chatted with each other
from time to time. (I guess the prisoner must have learned pretty good English,
because I don’t think Dad knew any Italian.) This prisoner had a wife and
children in Rome, with whom he had not been able to make contact, so they
presumably had no idea whether he was dead or alive.
Sometime
late in the war, after most of Italy was liberated, Dad got a furlough that
allowed him to visit Italy. When the prisoner found out about this, he begged
Dad to look up his family in Rome, to let them know that he was alive and well.
Rome was not on Dad’s itinerary (which was mainly Naples and the Isle of Capri,
I think), but he agreed to give it a try.
Dad managed
to hitch a ride to Rome and found the address, not without some difficulty
given his lack of Italian. He found the family in one of the upper stories of
some kind of tenement, not in the best neighborhood. You can imagine the wife’s
astonishment and perhaps unease when a soldier showed up at her door in a U.S.
uniform. After he communicated his message, she became ecstatic, crying and
hugging him and trying to thank him in Italian.
When I was a
kid hearing this, it pretty much went in one ear and out the other, like so
many other stories, but from an adult’s perspective this one has stuck with me
like no other.
It has been
said that war brings out the best and the worst in people. In the great cauldron
of WW II, millions of people from all over the world encountered one another, many
of them far from their homes. The way I look at it, every one of them was kind
of an ambassador, representing his home town and nation by his conduct. Some
behaved badly, committing wartime atrocities. Some, like Audie Murphy of Texas,
showed exceptional battlefield valor and became heroes in that way. In my eyes,
by his act of compassion to this Italian family, my Dad became a hero in a
different way. I am proud of the way he represented Cherokee, Texas and the
U.S. of A. on that occasion.
Great title for you blog!! You're nested if you're a sixth generation Texan. It's great to have roots. I consider myself a 4th generation Arizonian but I don't even live there now. My grandnieces would be 6th generation. I've been with GeneaBloggers about two months. I am posting some old letters of a gg grandfather, and now am actually trying to get another blog ready about my 4th great grandparents. This is an awesome group of bloggers.
ReplyDeleteGrant
www.thestephensherwoodletters.blogspot.com
I really enjoyed this post, it is a great family story to pass on. I have included it on my list of weekly favorites:
ReplyDeletehttp://leavesfortrees.blogspot.com/2012/12/follow-friday-favorites.html
Thanks for sharing it!