Mr. Francesco (Frank) D'Orazio

My daddy was a winner in the First World War I was a loser in the Second World War.

This is the good and bad story of my life.

I was just about nine or ten years old. I was going to school and was very good in school. The teacher told my daddy that I was the best student in the class, and for that reason I should stay in school for a few more years. My daddy said to the teacher, “this boy has to go and work on the farm”. After a short time I was forced to leave school to work on the farm.

When I was sixteen years old, my dear mom got very sick, and in a short time she died. My pain and suffering was terrible. I got very sick, but with the help of God and our family doctor, I gradually got better.

When I was 18, in 1938, I was called to join the army. All boys at that age were required to go for training for 18 months. After 18 months the war started. I did not get to go home. The sent me to Libya in North Africa to fight the British army. That was the terrible turning point of my life. I said to myself that this war was not going to be an easy one. I new the desert in Libra was very hot with strong winds at times. It was going to make life even more miserable.

June 1940 we boarded the train in Rome direct to Napoli. We were supposed to board the ship in Rome direct to Benghazi, Libya. The train in Rome was very late to depart. The mothers, the sisters, the girlfriends blocked the tracks. They were screaming “please do not go, the war will kill you”. In Napoli it was even worse, a mother telling her only son to throw himself into the sea instead of going to war.

During the 6 day trip we were attacked by the British navy. With the help of God and the maneuvering of our commandant we survived the attack.

After landing in Benghazi a large column was organized consisting of heavy equipment, tanks, trucks, canons, 7 machine guns. We went direct to Bardiyah, a few kilometers from the Egyptian border. I got very sick, headache, diarrhea, and vomiting because of the change in food and water After a week I was better thanks to God and Santa Maria delle Grazie. They were on my mind all the time. All the time I was in danger they were with me and protected me.

It is now July 1940. The huge column is now approaching Bardiyah. A few more kilometers and we are in the war zone. As soon as we arrived we were to start heavy work, digging trenches, where we were to sleep to be protected from enemy attack, from land and from the sky. I was fortunate as I did not have to dig trenches as I was the telegraphic or radio operator. My job was to keep in communication with other detachments and advise what was happening on the front. During the time in Rome they taught me to be a good radio operator. Because this was 4th Regiment Carasta, I learned to drive a tank, drive a truck, motorcycle, and to use a machine gun.

During the month of September we took a large part of land. We took many prisoners, and according to the Red Cross treated them like human beings. Our superiors were proud of our good work. They told us to be happy because the way things were going the war would soon be over.

It is now October 1940 and after the good news we now got the bad news. Russia and the United States declare war on Germany and Italy. Things start to go bad and in a short time we start to retreat. We lost all the land we took and start going backward under heavy bombardment from the land and sky. We retreat to Tobruk and are encircled by all kinds of troops, English, American, and Australian. We resisted for 40 days under all kinds of bombardment.

In January 1941 I get the order to destroy the radios along with all documents and to take care of my life. Suddenly we hear machine guns. They made holes in our tent. There were three of us. Thank God nobody was killed. I was the first out of the tent. I put my hands up. There was a truck with a machine gun a little ways up the hill. Two Australian soldiers approach us. They had a gun in one hand and a grenade in the other. One of them gave me a push and told me to walk in front of them. The other two soldiers and I started walking in front of them. I was walking very slowly thinking of the possibility of escape. After a short walk they took one soldier off with them. The other soldier and I escaped and went back to our tent. We picked up everything we could. We packed the backpack with food and drink, blankets, and grenades. We also took a revolver and a small machine gun.

We started to walk toward the sea, among the soldiers crying they were wounded. Suddenly we heard shots from the hills. The British army had spotted us. We were saved as they were far away and the sun was going down. Then we heard shots from in front. The bullets went near my leg. I felt a burning from the bullet holes in my pant leg. They did not hit my leg. God saved me again.

We were four soldiers and we decided to lie on the ground until dark. We stared to walk again and then we heard Italian voices. We screamed that we were Italian. They told us to stop they were the Italian Coast Guard. They took us with them and gave us food and drink and a place to sleep.

At 4 in the morning we got the bad news, that in a few hours we would again be captured, this time for good. Tobruq was surrendering.

We started walking. We were in the thousands. The weather was very hot, 35 degrees. I got sick. My face was bleeding. I started to feel weak. Other soldiers were helping me walk. This Moroccan soldier came to me and gave me a big push. After I got up I seen his rifle pointed at me. A white soldier came from nowhere, grabbed the barrel of his rifle, pushing it toward the ground. The bullet that was supposed to kill me ended in the ground. The white soldier washed my face and head and gave my some whiskey to drink. He said “I am Canadian; my parents are Italian, now you must walk”. Thanks to him I felt better. This was a miracle. Thanks also to Santa Maria delle Grazie and God.

After a few hours of walking we were in this temporary camp. The heat was terrible. Enemy planes were flying over our heads. Three days, with no water or food. A British soldier in front of me had a cup in his hand and was drinking. My lips were so dry and sticking together. I asked him to just give me a sip. He finished drinking, urinated in the cup, and threw it in my face. He also grabbed a fistful of sand and threw that in my face.

After one week of this terrible experience they called 500 prisoners. I was one of them. We boarded this horrible boat which was for animals. We were down in the bottom, no food or water and no toilet. The British soldiers were on the deck eating bananas, oranges, etc. They threw us the scraps. This was the only food given to us on the three day trip.

We arrived in Alexandria Egypt and they put us on a train. At every train stop we were harassed by the miserable Arabs, telling us, “no more Mussolini, no more macaroni”.

The train stopped in Cairo and a well dressed man in uniform and came close to our open window. He said “I am sorry to see all you boys suffering for a testa de catso”. The prisoner beside me had a big bottle in his hand. He said to him “what is this testa di catso”. The well dressed man said “Mussolini”. The prisoner asked the man to come closer. When he did he threw the bottle full force at his forehead. He fell, hopefully dead.

The train got going again. We reached the camp which was near the Suez Canal. Meals consisted of 1 slice of bread, 1 cup tea, no milk, sugar, meat, vegetables or pasta. After a few months 70% of us were going blind at sunset. In the morning the vision was back. The Red Cross sent a doctor to investigate. This said it was malnutrition and told the British in charge to give us better and more food. They did not.

After one year of starvation we left this horrible place in route to Durban, South Africa. After we boarded the boat they called 60 prisoners, I was one of them. I thought they were going to kill us but thank God that was not the plan. They told us that as the war was still on the trip was going to be very long, approximately 50 days. We were to work as waiters. They gave us white jackets. Our job was to serve breakfast, lunch, and dinner. We had 150 South African soldiers on board. We were to serve them first and then the Italians. The food for the Italians was much different. The South African soldiers were very good. When they left the cafeteria they would give us cigarettes plus all the left over food. I shared with my friends and also, since I did not smoke, gave them to my friends.

Finally we arrived in Durban. We started to move through the door where there was this miserable English soldier with a big stick in his hand. With that stick he hit us across the shoulders. That was our good bye.

When we landed in Durban, South Africa, it felt like landing in Naples. All the buildings were covered in Fascist flags and speakers screaming the Mussolini songs. The people loved us. We boarded the train for the long journey. There was a box of food on the seat. As the train was leaving people shook hands with us, girls were stretching their heads through the windows to give us a kiss. All were wishing us good luck, they told us that the British bad, taking away most of their crops.

The train stopped in Johannesburg and Pretoria, the capital of South Africa. People were clapping, screaming viva Mussolini, viva Hitler, viva Italy.

We arrived in this village called Sonderwater where the big camp was located. The food was much better as was the life. As the years went by life got worse with no hope that the war would be over soon. I was praying to God that the war would be over so that I could go home.

One day a priest visited the camp. We were told we could have confession and Holy Communion but I decided not to go. That night I was screaming. My friend grabbed me and asked what was wrong. I had a very bad dream. I saw the devil, red hot with horns. He had chains on both hands and was trying to get me. The next morning I went to see that priest, told my confession and received Holy Communion. I was better, much happier.

Finally the war was over. I was very happy to go home after all those bad long years of my young life. I was also sad, after so much sacrifice we lost the war. At the same time I thanked God that I still had my life.

It was May 1947. We were heading home on this big ship with approximately 1000 on board. After a few days we had very rough seas with 200 kilometer winds. The ship had its horn going continually to avoid collision with other boats. The good Lord with Santa Maria delle Grazie once more saved us with little damage.

Finally we landed in Napoli. The Italian government discharged me and gave me 25000 lire. I could not even buy a shirt with that money, after 9 years of pain and suffering, going home with nothing.

After a few hours on the train I was home with my daddy and the rest of the family, but I was sad that my mother was not there to give me a kiss.

After a few months new problems started with my life. I had no feeling to work. I was just going through the motions. My older brother was giving me dirty looks but I did not care. My daddy called me and said” Your life after all your suffering is not the same. You need to find a woman and your life will pick up”. After thinking I realized my daddy was right.

One day this good friend said he new a family who had a daughter I would like. I met Theresa and it was love at first sight.

We got married in May 1948. My life changed and I was happy. I wanted to have a family but in Italy there would be no future for them. I started thinking back when I was 9 or 10 years old, my uncle and aunt from Toronto promised that if I was a good boy with my mommy, to continue to write all the letters, and respect them, some day they would bring me to Canada. I was very good and obedient to my parents. As the years went by, I grew up, was drafted, went to fight the war, and was a prisoner of war. In all those years my uncle and aunt stayed in touch with me, reminding me that one day the wish would come true. In South Africa they had sent me a big pack of food.

October 1950 I get a letter from Toronto telling me to start getting ready as in a week or two I would get the documents to immigrate to Canada. I was very happy. Very soon I received the documents and also the fare for the boat. In a short time I was ready to embark again.

I am now ready to leave for Toronto. Packing the suite case, I was very happy in one way and very sad in another. Theresa was 8 months pregnant and to leave her in that condition was not easy, but I had to do it for the future of my family. Leaving the house I was crying and after I was a kilometer away I could still hear my wife crying and screaming. I was heartbroken. Before I left I asked my daddy to take care of Teresa. My brother-in-law came with me to Napoli and after we kissed good-bye I also asked him to take care of Teresa.

After several days on the boat I arrived in Montreal. Before leaving the person in charge of us made a good speech. He said “now you are ready to put your feet in this new land. It is going to be hard, the weather is against you, and the people are against you because of the war, the language. You have to be strong no matter what they throw at you. You have to defend your patria, Italy.” Some were crying to hear all this but I was not interested to here all this. I said to myself “you suffered so much in all those year, I can suffer more.”

After a few hours on the train I arrived in Toronto on November 30, 1950. I knocked on the door of 61 Hatherley Rd. I woke up the entire family. I stepped in and for the first time met my uncle Giovani, my father’s brother. We kissed. I met my Aunt Brigida and my cousins Anna and Victor.

My uncle said “you can build a good future here if you are not afraid to work hard. I was prepared to work very hard. My uncle and his family treated me as part of their family. I slept in Victor’s room.

After one day of rest I started working with my uncle in the concrete factory. My job was outside handling concrete building blocks. It was a very heavy job. The weather was below zero. The pay was 90 cents an hour, but I was happy hoping later I could get a better job making more money. After a short time with help from Anna and my ability to speak a little English I did find a better job.

In February 1951 I got the very good news from my wife that we had a baby boy. Bruno was born on January 27, 1951. I concentrated on working harder to save money. My uncle said to me “now that you have a better job and some money I will help you with the documents and passage to bring your wife and boy to Canada. I was crying with joy.

My wife and 4 month old son arrived in Toronto in June 1951. When I met them at that train station it was one of the best days of my life. I grabbed the baby and squeezed him to my breast. He looked in my face and smiled. I was crying for joy. We were very happy to be together again. Teresa said “do not worry if we do not have very much, in time we will be okay.

We were living in my uncle’s small house close to their home. We had no furnace and were heating the house with coal and wood. We had very little hot water. My uncle and aunt helped us very much. They also helped with the baby.

After four years we saw fit to buy our first house on Earlscourt near St. Clare. It was an old two story house, very clean and comfortable. Bruno was going to school so Teresa started to work so that we could get more money to send Bruno to Del La Salle and then university.

February 13, 1988 Bruno married a lovely Canadian girl, Debbie. She was very respectful to us. We did the best to help them, especially when he was going to buy a house, so the mortgage was minimal.

We sold the house on Earlscourt and bought a new bungalow on Bartel Dr. In 1985 at the age of 65 I retired after twenty years at Rothmans.

Bruno and Debbie’s children came along. We helped them with the children so they both could work. When the children started school I was happy to take them to school and pick them up. The school was not too far, only a 15 minute walk.

I was very busy. Two times a week I would go to Columbus Centre to try to stay in shape. One day I went to the swimming pool because I loved water but had never learned how to swim. One of the lifeguards said that it was never too late to learn. After 4o lessons I was able to swim in deep water. They gave me a 75% grade.

My grandchildren finished elementary school and went to Del La Salle, the same as their dad. They are still in that school and doing very well.

My son is now 57. We did many things together. Bruno, Debbie, and the girls are very respectful to us as we are to them.

Now back to the bad days of my life. During the war I met British, Canadian, Australian, etc soldiers. The worse were the British and Moroccan. Today I try to forgive them Jesus Christ came to the world and suffered for the bad people. He said “Pardon them for they know not what they are doing.

To-day I am 90. Thank you God and Santa Maria del Grazie.

The End

Supplement

During the war this soldier friend, Ofurano, said to me “Our life is in danger, any moment we can get killed. I have not received the sacrament of Confirmation. Will you be my godfather?” I said “no problem” and we approached the military chaplain, a priest. The next day we sat on this rock and he received the sacrament. He was very happy.

I myself did not like this priest as he had a gun in his pocket. Under Red Cross regulations priests and doctors were not supposed to carry guns. Also Jesus did not carry a gun to protect himself. The priest represented God and if he was in danger he should beg God for protection.

The captain of our regiment was very cruel to us. One day he tried to put me in trouble but his plan did not work thanks to the good Lord. One night it was my turn to be on guard duty. During my duty the alarms sounded. He came to me and told me to go to the shelter because the bombardment was coming. I new military regulations which said you were not to leave under any circumstances. He again told me to go. I did not move. He was really trying to put me in trouble.

A few days later there was a large attack from the enemy. He got killed. This cruel captain was lying on his back, his face covered in blood and flies. I covered him with my blanket and made the sign of the cross. He had with him a very tiny dog which was with him all the time for good luck this other soldier was in charge of this dog and was told in case he died to bring it to his wife. After we became prisoners we carried him all the time hiding him in our back pack. We took it to Egypt & South Africa. In South Africa they put a name tag on the dog. It eventually got back to his wife,

Very near the house where I was born was a very large building which was the school I went to. Also nearby was the church I went to every Sunday. This church, the Oratory was called Santa Maria del Grazie, parish of Alanno. According to legend, three sisters saw a vision of the Virgin Mary. They built two other churches to her honor, Santa Maria Della Croce in Pietronico near Alanno and Santa Maria Della Libera in Pratola, far from Alanno. My Nonni often told me the beautiful story of those three sisters who became saints.

My nonno Sabatino would always grab my hand when he was going somewhere and take me with him. I was a very small boy and I will never forget the love of my nonna Anna and my nonno Sabatino along with my mother and daddy. God bless them Rest in peace

Passed away on May 13, 2014 at the age of 95 Beloved husband of Teresa for 66 years.

Loving father of Bruno (Debbie). Cherished grandfather (Nonno) of Chloe and Carly.

He will be sadly missed by his nieces, nephews in Canada and Italy also

by many other relatives and friends. Visitation will be held on Friday, May 16, 2014 from

2-4 pm & 7-9 pm at Delmoro Funeral Home 61 Beverly Hills Drive (South of Wilson, West of Jane).

A Funeral Mass will be celebrated on Saturday, May 17, 2014 at 9:30 am at St Jane Frances

(2747 Jane St. north of Sheppard Ave). Entombment to follow at Glendale Memorial Gardens

(1810 Albion Rd at Hwy #27). Donations in Frank’s memory may be made to the Heart and Stroke Foundation.

Footprints in the Sand

Lord, You said that once I decided to follow You,

we would walk side by side through life.

But when I needed You most, I saw only one set

of footprints in the sand. The Lord replied,

“I love you and I would never leave you.

During your times of trial and suffering,

when you see only one set of footprints,

it was then I carried you.”

Non sapevamo quel giorno,

Che Dio chiamasse il tuo nome.

Nella vita ti abbiamo amato,

E nella morte sara` lo stesso.

I nostri cuori sono pieni di dolore,

Pero` non sei andato via da solo.

Una parte di noi e` venuta con te,

Il giorno che Dio ti ha chiamato.