““to the Piazzale Loreto and machine-gunned them to death. I saw . . .” He broke down. “Tullio was one of them.” Uncle Albert and his father looked gut-shot. Aunt Greta said, “That’s not true! You must have seen someone else.” Pino, crying, said, “It was him. Tullio was so brave. Yelling at the men who were about to shoot him, calling them cowards . . . and . . . oh God, it was . . . horrible.” He went to his father and hugged him while Uncle Albert held Aunt Greta, who had turned hysterical. “I hate them,” she said. “My own people and I hate them.” When she’d calmed down, Uncle Albert said, “I have to go tell his mother.” “She””
