Sewickley Herald

              The Herald
The Sewickley Valley's Home News Weekly
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Vol. 40.   No. 32.
SEWICKLEY, PA., THURSDAY, JULY 29, 1943
Price Five Cents
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Un Jpre-War Sicily
A view of the rugged eastern coast-line between Catania and Messina,' where the Axis forces can still put up a
defense against the Allied attack. Below is seen the ancient Greek theatre at Taormina, high above the strait that
separates Sicily from the "toe" of Italy.   Mount Etna towers 10,000 feet high, just inland from these cliffs.
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BEFORE THE WAR
A peacetime  Invasion of Sicily
Ry Lawrence  Dame  in  The Boston
Herald
Our two-man invasion of Sicily, bo-
fore the war, started peacefully at
Messina, the city that has just had
its pock-marked face lifted by American bOmbs. There the American Export
freighter Executive had landed Shouf
Wardrop aiid myself in the course of a
Mediterranean vagabond sail.
"Now you've got only two hours to1
see tho sights before we leave for
Catania," said the captain, looking at
us dubiously. "Watch what you do.
Don't come back with a hired orchestra
and lialf the Foreign Legion trailing
along. Don't forget to come back on
time. This ship won't wait a minute
overtime, We'ro duo- in Catania tomorrow night."
iSliouf and I promised faithfully. He
was from Sewickley, Pa,, and his name
was Edmund when I met him first in
Marseilles. Thou lie was in no hurry
to got homo and j certainly was in
no rush to got back to that job iu
Paris. Ho lost his name of Edmund in
Bizorto, whore the natives dubbed him
Shouf,   which   means   Chief,   or   some
thing, because he insisted upon wearing
a floppy Mahometan farmer's bonnet
acquired in the market. Ho was a
merry young wight and had a flair for
odd headgear.
"Now, the best way to see a town
in a hurry is by trolley car," I told
Shouf.
Por half an hour we rode round
Messina, a dull town with most of its
charms except zabaglione eggnog destroyed by earthquakes. Then we came
to tlie end of tho line,
"Whore does that-thore road go?"
Shouf asked tho conductor, indicating
a siui-bolced white ribbon that stretched over the hills. "Ou mono cetto route?
Dondo va la 'carretera?""
The conductor finally caught on, "To
Catania by way of Taormina," he replied, "Sixty miles," Shouf looked at
mo.
'What about tho captain?" .t asked.
But away wo walked. "To Catania,"
wo yelled back at the stupiued con*
ductor.
Por it long time tho countryside stay*
ed barren and ugly. Polling hills bore
cultivated patches rockier than any
Maine farm. Many of the houses stood
in ruins as tho result of earthquakes.
Dark-skinned people, descended frotri
Phoenician,   Roman,   Greek,   Norman
and Germanic invaders, looked at us
suspiciously from doorways through tho
blinding sun. The road was powdery
with lava dust and sharp with flint.
Shouf's sneakers wore completely out
Within an hour. We stopped at a shop
and drank some acid wine, thereby helping neither Shouf's feet nor our thirst.
We started walking again, but Shouf's
bare feet sai
He obeyed.
"A wonderful idea of yours, hiking
to Catania," ho said, whisking away
the flies in tlie ardent sun.
Then the Sicilian cart came along.
It was a sort of jaunting cart, with
two gaily-painted wheels, a pony that
yawned and a bandit driver with oar-
to-ear moustachios. But ho smiled.
Tlie wondrous thing about that cart
was its murals. All round the sides,
in blue, red and green and yellow, as
is tho custom in Sicily, were painted
scones from Biblical tales, miracles and
grotesqueries allied to ft firm faith in
gastronomy and religion.
Shouf let out ii yell that halted
driver, cart and horse, He demanded
to be tnken to Taoniiitiii, 'Che driver
shook his hend. Shouf held up a 1.0*
lire note and tlie light of understanding
that came into the bandit's face was
glorious to behold.
"What a gorgeous way to study art,"
said Shouf, hanging his head over the'
side of the slow-moving cart to examine
tho beard of a painted prophet. ."What
a wonderful way to see Sicily," I replied, looking at exactly the same sort
of landscape, dull and drab, that wo
liad choked over all the way from Messina. But far away and high above loomed the wondrous snow bonnet of Mt.
Etna.
Our carter passed round a wiekor-
eovcrcd jug of wine. We stai'tod singing. We became the best of friends,
and remained so until ho abruptly
turned into a farmyard and called the
journey done.
Yet, when wo took to the high road
again after mooting his wife and their
bambini, it was easy to And another
cart. So, by colorful relays, wo reached
lovely Taormina, high ou pastel cliffs
above a sapphire sea, and settled down:
for the night in a German-owned hotel
with Swiss -plumbing and a bridal suite
at a reduced rate because it happened'
to bo out of season.
We sat in the ruins of ait open-aii'
Greek theater at dawn, never suspect*
ing that some, day it would become a
l*(jOO*year-old  machine   gun  nest.   We
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(Continued on Page 4)
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TONIGHT AT 7 O'CLOCK -A COAST GUARD BAND CONCERT ON THE HONOR ROLL CORNER
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