I found him going around to each soldier wishing them a Merry Christmas. I was   nervous but determined, so I walked to where they were. I called his name, but he didn’t   hear me. Another man saw me and pointed to where I was standing. The Lt. smiled and   said, “Merry Christmas.” I handed him the drawing, and he thanked me for thinking of him and said that he would keep the drawing always.  Later that day we had church
services where our pastor told us the Christmas story, and then we sang hymns. I went back home feeling that everything would be fine.It wasn’t to be, for we were awakened at 4 a.m. by the sound of mortar fire. We all rushed to the bomb shelters. Somehow I got separated from my family when we were trying to get into the shelter. By the time I found my way to the shelter, the door was closed, not to be reopened until the bombing stopped. I rushed to my house and huddled in the corner. I must have fallen asleep, because I was awakened by the sound of mortars. I knew I should have stayed in my corner, but curiosity drove me to the window. From where I was standing, I could see German soldiers swarming up the hill. The black G.I.’s and the 25 Italian partisans knew that they could not turn back the offensive, but they could slow it down.