Bella, ciao
Of course Romano didn't understand.
He hadn't learnt German at school and the Sergeant was yelling it at his face, probably telling him that he should remember to do the tasks they set them. This was the army. Not school. Instead of learning languages, they could be learning how to reload a gun or set up tents. But instead, they had to learn to speak some German which they were probably not going to even use considering the fact that their allies would be placed elsewhere. He didn't dislike the language, but the man yelling it in front of him wasn't really helping him think positively about it.
"Do you understand, soldier?" asked the Sergeant with a stern look in his eyes.
His grandfather had always told him that Italian was the only language he should know (as it was his mother tongue) as well as English. He came from a family who loved their country. So much that they felt nothing other than pride as they were sending their grandson off to fight for Italy.
"Soldier! Do you understand?!" he shouted. He noticed that Romano was staring into space, which would be punished with a few laps around campus.
Romano wasn't listening; he hardly ever was; it was always a common habit of his. But he would be in serious trouble if he didn't reply. Rule one: always reply in the affirmative to the Sergeant, even if you didn't understand what he said or you weren't paying attention.
"Yes sir! I understand!" replied Romano. The Sergeant didn't seem too convinced but turned around anyway and carried on inspecting the line of soldiers. Romano himself wasn't convinced by his own reply.
A quiet humming began, making him lose his train of thought as he started to become mildly irritated. It was very familiar but he couldn't quite put his finger on its name.
The noise came from his younger twin brother, Feliciano, who was scared about the idea of fighting and violence but concealed it with his cheerful disposition. Sometimes Romano wondered how his brother had even agreed to join the army along with him. A coward, Romano thought, but he did take things seriously when he felt like it.
Bella Ciao. That was the name of the tune. Many of the senior officers strongly disagreed with the message of that song. Who knew what they would have to go through if the Sergeant found out they knew the song. The thought was unsettling.
"Hey, idiota! Why are you singing that song here?" hissed Romano under his breath as Feliciano flinched, staring at him wide eyed. "Do you have any idea what kind of danger you're putting us in?"
"B-but fratello, I was just bored and remembered that song," whispered the startled Feliciano.
"I don't care. Just don't hum it again, at least while we're here."
"Ok I'm sorry."
If only their grandfather wasn't a partisan who forced his beliefs upon others, there might have just been a smaller risk of them getting killed in this war. Maybe his country truly was worth more to him than his grandsons were. Bella Ciao was a partisan song their Grandfather taught them.
What if they didn't want to share his beliefs? Romano was sick of his elder. It had come to the point where he saw military training as an escape from the life at home.
Straightening themselves up, they turned back to face the Sergeant, who had just finished his inspection and now faced them.
"Alright ladies, you are done for today. Remember, tomorrow is the start of your physical training, so get up early and be prepared. That is all. Dismissed."
Everyone began to march out in their lines back to their cabins, muttering to each other and cheering along the way. They were excited about tomorrow's training; even Romano himself couldn't hide it.
Eventually, Romano and Feliciano were left by themselves. They reached their cabin, opened the door leading them into the small living room as Romano lit the fireplace -enveloping them in a blanket of heat. Feliciano went into their bedroom and fell onto the bed, falling asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. His brother was thankful for this; it meant he could go to sleep quickly without having to listen to his brother's worries and "What ifs?"-
His eyelids were heavy and the warmth of the fire slowly began to lull him to sleep as he was lying on the sofa, still wearing his uniform, too tired to move to the bedroom. Tomorrow was going to be an eventful day, and with that only thought he drifted off to sleep.