To War With The Bays: 53 - An Evening With Irving Berlin
…We continued north through Caserta and then Cassino. Never before had I seen such a scene of desolation and destruction. The monastery on the hill was just one big ruin. Even all the trees are dead, and every house for miles past Cassino had been hit.' It was nine months since the Battle of Cassino, and, as if a huge earthquake had hit the place, there were still no signs of life…
Jack Merewood and his Bays colleagues see an American show starring the great composer Irving Berlin – then head north past Cassino and a scene of desolation.
To read earlier chapters of Jack’s story please click on To War With The Bays.
The American troops were lucky so far as entertainment was con¬cerned, and a big show was coming to Bari. It was called This Is the Army, organised and directed by Irving Berlin, and he was in the show too. The Americans sent out complimentary tickets to some of the English regiments. We were limited to just a few for each squadron, names were put in a hat, and mine was one of the half-dozen drawn out.
The show was in the fantastic, beautifully ornate, Bari Opera House. There were hundreds in the cast, all dressed in army uniforms, an excellent band, and they raised the roof singing 'This is the Army, Mr Jones', 'Ma, I Miss Your Apple Pie', and other popular and topical songs.
Some they sang while marching on the huge stage, and Irving Berlin, a tiny black-haired man, 'sang' an amusing song asking what were we going to do with all the spam when the war was over. It was the best show I'd ever seen.
We had left Matera now, for an area near Bari on the Adriatic coast. The weather was very hot and we were glad to be allowed to go swimming in the sea.
For town life we divided our time between Bari and Matera. Stan and I had made friends in Matera with our neighbours under the monastery window, so we visited them quite often.
Stan was a good-looking boy, quiet and on the shy side, and all the girls loved him. Sometimes he was a bit embarrassed by their attention, but enjoyed it anyhow, and we had some good evenings with these people.
The weeks went by and life was getting monotonous, but I had letters regularly from Suzette and sometimes from her parents and her aunt. I looked forward so much to her letters and she to mine, and so often we said how we wished we could be together.
Meanwhile my mother and sister continued to write regularly, as did other relatives and friends, and I was still hearing from Lucienne (English/French, French/English) and Marie, so there was plenty of variety in my mail. I wrote and received hundreds of letters. Ronnie wrote often too. He was over in Italy now, at a base somewhere near Naples, but we couldn't get to see each other.
We followed the progress of the troops advancing north. Besides British and Americans there were many other nationalities in the Allied Forces: Canadians, South Africans, Rhodesians, Australians, New Zealanders, Indians. Together they were relentlessly push¬ing the Germans back. Florence was taken, but then again the enemy began to dig in.
At the end of July we were told we would soon be leaving the area, but first were to have a week at a rest camp near Bari. Echoes of Chebli and Aumale, but this time there was no point in asking for an interview with the Squadron Leader. The rest camp proved to be right on the beach and we spent a relaxing week there. Also it wasn't far to Matera, and Stan and I went there to once again say goodbye to friends.
We left on 6 August, up the coast through Barletta, then to Foggia, and from there across country again towards Naples. We stayed the night in an apple orchard where the ground was covered in thick yellowish-grey dust from the volcano. Next day back to Foggia, back and forth as if we didn't know where we were going, and we weren't enlightened as to why. Finally back to the Naples area again and then north, bypassing Afragola by about fifteen miles.
For a few days I'd been having a lot of pain in my head, then 'got terrific pain in my eyes'. I endured this for more than a week and finally had to go and see the M.O. who gave me some eye drops.
We continued north through Caserta and then Cassino. Never before had I seen such a scene of desolation and destruction. The monastery on the hill was just one big ruin. Even all the trees are dead, and every house for miles past Cassino had been hit.' It was nine months since the Battle of Cassino, and, as if a huge earthquake had hit the place, there were still no signs of life.
In Northern Italy a number of rivers flow almost parallel to each other from the mountains across the Po Valley into the Adriatic. The Germans would dig in at one, resist attack as long as possible, then when they could hold the line no longer they would retreat to the next river. We were near the west coast, but now had to cross the country to the east to join the push north from there.
