: Michelle Saftich
: Port of No Return
: Odyssey Books
: 9781922200297
: 1
: CHF 4.40
:
: Erzählende Literatur
: English
: 246
: DRM
: PC/MAC/eReader/Tablet
: ePUB

Contessa and Ettore Saforo awake to a normal day in war-stricken, occupied Italy. By the end of the day, however, their house is in ruins and they must seek shelter and protection wherever they can. But the turbulent politics of 1944 refuses to let them be.


As Tito and his Yugoslav Army threaten their German-held town of Fiume, Ettore finds himself running for his life, knowing that neither side is forgiving of those who have assisted the enemy. His wife and children must also flee the meagre life their town can offer, searching for a better life as displaced persons.


Ettore and Contessa's battle to find each other, and the struggle of their family and friends to rebuild their lives in the aftermath of a devastating war, provide a rich and varied account of Italian migration to Australia after World War II.


What can you do when you have nowhere left to call home?Port of No Return considers this question and more in a novel that is full of action, pain and laughter - a journey you will want to see through to the very end.

Chapter two


January 1944

Farmhouse, outskirts of Fiume, Italy

 

The Coletta family lived at the foot of a hill on the outskirts of Fiume, a short walk from the end of the tramline. They had a farmhouse with chickens and goats, as well as a productive beehive and vines of luscious tomatoes.

In the past, their cellar had held the fruits of their labours: cheeses and cream made from goats’ milk, jars of honey and stewed tomatoes and cartons of eggs - until the Germans took over the city. Soldiers quickly became regular, uninvited visitors, demanding they hand over their stores to feed the troops.

‘You want to support the war effort, don’t you?’ they challenged. ‘Come on then. Make a contribution and make it generous.’

Even after their generous contribution, the Germans would help themselves to three or four of their precious chickens as well.

The last time the soldiers visited there were only two sickly chickens to be found.

‘They are all we have left,’ Lisa told them mournfully.

They took them anyway. In truth, Lisa’s husband had staked a lookout for the Germans. On seeing them approach, he had walked three strong goats up into the hills and carted away a large crate of healthy chickens. He had stayed hidden until the Germans were long gone.

‘It worked,’ Lisa told him happily on his return. ‘They searched the cellar and didn’t find anything. They searched the storage house—nothing again. They didn’t like the look of those chickens and I told them they were our last.’

‘Good. Hopefully they’ll take us off their list and leave us alone.’

The soldiers returned one more time, but again, they hid their chickens and goats up the hill and the Germans left empty-handed. That had been four months ago.

It was mid-afternoon, and Lisa was sitting outside, plucking the feathers of a large waterfowl bird that her husband had caught by chance that morning. Head bowed in concentration, she was surprised to hear the front gate squeak, followed by the scraping of light footsteps. The knock on the front door was not the usual brisk, hard sound of the Germans’ pounding so she did not believe she had soldiers on her doorstep, but she was not expectin