Sicily-Modica

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Modica, Saturday, October 14

This has been a day of visiting and hearing stories from the past…but I’ll start at the end of the day.  I’m just back to my digs from an evening of jazz at the Teatro Garibaldi Modica.  The group was Rosalba Bentivoglio Sicilian Jazz Quintet.  I didn’t think Rosalba really hit her stride until about a quarter of the way through the set but when she did it was great stuff.  She did a vocal impersonation during one piece of a muted trumpet or trombone and that was cool.  Great back-up and individual performances from the pianist, bass, percussion and sax.

I had been thinking of a photo theme for the trip and thought it might be called “The Italy my Father Never Saw”.  I may have to revise that because I don’t think he would have seen or heard a jazz quintet while over here either.

It’s almost midnight in Modica and the streets are just packed with people, young and old.  Dave says the teeny boppers will have to go home shortly but then the night starts for the older set…20 and up.  I’m tired just thinking about it.

The day started with breakfast created and served by Dave himself.  German bacon, Italian/French toast…and of course…cafe.  Since I’ve got this fancy blue car the least I could do for my friends is chauffer them around….so it’s off to a mall to have coffee again with a very interesting group of visitors and ex-pats.  I don’t know their various reasons for being in Modica or for how long people have been coming or just living here but it was interesting to hear the language flow…both Brit English and Italian.  I sat beside Maria who I will be meeting later in the day, along with her mother Susan and father Gino.

Once the 16 or so of us had finished coffe and chatting our little foursome headed for a grocery store cum walmart where Dave and Barb purchased new supplies.  We also met a couple of other members of the coffee klatch who had declined to join the group today. This meeting people along the way seems to be a regular occurrence for Dave and Barb. As we meandered up to the teatro this evening Barb stopped to chat with a local grocer that they knew and as we were leaving the teatro Dave stopped to chat to another acquaintence.

I had some time off before the next adventure so I wandered around town a bit and took a few shots.  This is an amazing town set in a river valley with stone buildings blending in with the rock walls.  I’m not sure my photos will do it justice.

I wandered into the foyer of the museum near where I’m staying and their were some amazing works on display by local photographers.  They were all monochrome and I think I may try that treatment when I get home.  I don’t have the capacity to do much right now except transfer some images directly to my laptop.

Off again in the afternoon, this time to meet with Maria and her parents.  Maria became fascinated with the story of Sicily and Modica during the allied invasion after reading “Road to Rome” by Christopher Buckley.  This is an older volume that was primarily about the British end of things. She had also heard her father, Gino, talk about his experiences as a six year old seeing the young Canadian invaders come through Modica. I think it started to get really interesting for her when another band of Canadians descended on Sicily and Modica.  I’m referring to Operation Husky 2013 which involved a group of Canadian strangers following in the footsteps of the Canadian 1st Division in Sicily.  If you get a chance to see “Bond of Strangers” you will find that an incredible link has been established between Sicilians and Canadians.  While bond of strangers may have referred to the group that walked the route of 1st Div, the movie clearly shows that bonding of another sort went on during that encounter.  The scene at the end where the names of the 485 men lying in Agira are read out and in turn answered by a representative standing behind each marker is one of the most moving pieces I’ve ever seen.

Maria shared her collection of photos and notes, many of which were surprisingly available on the internet.  One piece was a pamphlet that was directed at Officers and was all about how to behave while in Sicily. We had a great discussion related to my travels and more particularly my Dad’s travels.  He didn’t go to Modica but from what we were able to discern he probably did go through the village where they have a family cottage.  This was some confirmation about her mother’s insistence that some soldiers had passed that way during the invasion.  Maria also shared a number of other references, including Mark Zuehlke’s two works “Through Blood and Sweat” which recounts Operation Husky 2013 and “Operation Husky”, which is his account of the Canadian invasion of Sicily itself.

I shared my intent to leave memorial stones at each of the gravesites but I also told Maria that I might not be able to make it to Pachino where they landed.  She was insistent that I go and put my toe in the same water that my father had touched.  Later, when we were getting ready for dinner Dave provided some data that he had worked out.  He said I could be in Pachino in about 30 minutes and that if I took the autostrada I could be in Messina in 2.5 hours.  I think he too wants me to stick my toe in the ocean.

Maria’s father Gino also recounted his experiences during the liberation of Modica.  Our meeting was in the family home that they lived in during the war but when the invasion came they moved to nearby caves to be safe from bombs and artillery fire.  Gino recalled the crashing sound of shellfire and seeing a fighter plane trailing smoke as it crossed Modica.  Gino’s father could speak some English, which was rare in those days, and he approached the soldiers that came down their road, asking who they were and where they were from.  That they were Canadians was something the entire family has not forgotten. Gino recalls asking for chocolate and cigarettes and giving all the smokes to his dad who used the tobacco to fill his pipe.  He also said that there were plenty of munitions around and the kids used to seperate the bullets from their casings, dump the powder into a pile then light it for the “whoosh” effect.  He tried on a discarded gas mask just to see how he looked.  He also described how one youngster found some form of munition that exploded and blinded him for life.  As the old saying goes “War is not healthy for kids or other living things”.

It is quite strange to be talking to people this far from home who have such great respect and admiration for what Canadians did here.  I’m glad I had this opportunity to speak to people whose lives were so greatly affected by “our boys”.

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