Hiyas, folks! As you might have guessed from the title, this fic is set in the 1920's! Specifically, it begins around 1925-26. Just to clear things up before you read, the Battle of the Piave River began June 15th, 1918. Also, I'd like to make a small dedication-
THIS FIC IS DEDICATED TO:
Ljuba- for being my most faithful reviewer. And offering to help me with the Italian.
Charlie Chaplin- for being one of the most famous actors in the 20's.
Louis Armstrong- for being a famous, jazz-player guy… in the 20's-50's! (Or something like that.)
Disclaimer: I don't own Cats. It belongs to Andrew Lloyd Weber and Thomas Stearns Eliot. I also do not own the 20's, Louis Armstrong, Charlie Chaplin, Al Capone, or any other publicly recognized things.
P.S. You may want to have an online translator ready. Italian to English, to be specific. (Unless you know Italian.) Or you can just read the ending Author's Note- I'll be putting the translations at the end.
~RT~
Coricopat's POV
Gunshots sounded across the river. One of the Jellicles beside me fell to the ground, bleeding from a hole in his chest. Hands shaking, I pressed the trigger on my rifle, and winced at the kickback.
That was the moment when everything started going wrong.
"You'll never win- how could puny soldiers like you defeat the likes of us?" enemy voices taunted maliciously, floating across the river.
"No," I whispered hoarsely. "I… I have to survive. I have to get back to Tanto, and Mother…"
"Pah!" the enemy voices shrieked. "We've already captured them. Killed them! You're all alone, Coricopat." It was true. All of the other Italian soldiers had suddenly disappeared, leaving me to face the Austro-Hungarian army by myself.
"No!" I screamed. "No! NO! NO!"
"Cori, wake up!" Tantomile commanded. "You need to get ready for work- quickly now!" I blinked to clear my thoughts, pushed the thin blanket off of me, and got up off the old couch. When my sister saw how frazzled I looked, her face softened.
"It's the nightmares again."
"Yeah…"
Ever since June 15th, 1918, I had been having nightmares. I had fought as a soldier in the Great War, though only towards the end. I saw two battles as a part of the Ragazzi del '99- the '99 Boys; men in the Italian army who were at least eighteen years old at the time. Of course, those two battles had to be the Battle of the Piave River and the Battle of Vittorio Veneto. I suppose that there weren't as many casualties in them as some of the other battles fought, but it was still enough to give me nightmares.
However, that was in the past. My present situation was that I lived in New York City, sharing a cramped apartment with my twin sister, and working as a laborer in a factory. It was a tough life, and I had been living it since 1922. Back then, I still thought that America was the Promised Land, a place where we'd be happy and healthy, not living in squalor and fighting to put food on the table. But, what can I say? Va abbastanza bene per me.
"Coricopat Rossi, move it already! You'll be late if you wait any longer!" Tantomile snapped.
"I know, Tanto! I'm just waking up!" I complained, pulling my coat on. "I'll see you later, okay?" She smiled softly.
"See you later, Cori. Try not to work too hard, okay?" I nodded, hurrying out the door.
"Yes, Mother!"
~RT~
I came back home at six o'clock in the afternoon, thoroughly exhausted from working at an automobile factory. Groaning, I collapsed on the couch.
"Cori? Are you okay?" Tanto fussed, sitting next to me.
"Ow," I replied. Seeing her worried expression, I added, "Don't worry. I'm just tired. Really tired…"
"Are you sure that you should be working another shift?" my sister asked nervously. "You don't have to work two jobs a day, you know."
"You shouldn't be complaining," I mumbled. "I'm doing this for you, remember? You and Mom. You can open your restaurant, we can bring Mom over here, and I can find a different job. One where I don't have to worry about being fired if I have the flu…" She said something else, but I wasn't sure what. I had already fallen asleep.
~RT~
Don't worry; the next chapter won't be as sad! I'm trying to stick with one character's POV per chapter in this fic. The next chapter will be in Jemima's POV, in case you're wondering. Feel free to poke holes in my Italian and history- I'm trying to keep it as factual as possible. Originally, I was going to have Cori flashback on being a soldier in the trenches, but then I found out that they didn't use trenches in the Battle of the Piave River, and I wasn't sure whether they did in the Battle of Vittorio Veneto or not…
Va abbastanza bene per me- It's good enough for me… or something like that… (thank you for helping with the Italian, Ljuba!)
Ragazzi del '99- the '99 Boys. They were a division (or something like that… I'm not good with military terminology) of the Italian army in World War I (I think.) If I got this right, they were all around eighteen years old, and they fought in the Battle of the Piave.
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