stalling too high and all kinds of bad things can happen. On this landing Harold let the wheels touch without any bounce or ballooning. We heard the familiar "Squeal Squeal" of the wheels catching the runway and then the plane settled onto the struts, a real grease job.

Day Eleven: On the last day we flew the short distance up to Napoli. (That’s Naples to you Anglos.) Here we gave up the airplane and were herded into a replacement depot. We were housed in square army tents which were mounted on wooden floors and frames, not unlike the tents housing the personnel of the 4077th M.A.S.H. unit of television fame. It was wet. It was cold. And, the green grass was growing just outside the tent. We were not here more than a week but it seemed longer.

Early in January of 1945 we were assigned to the 35th Squadron of the 64th Troop Carrier Group in the 51st Wing of the Twelfth Air Force. At this time the 64th group was located in the small town of Rosignano, in the province of Tuscany. Rosignano was Southeast of Livorno on the coast. The portion of the village we occupied was a newer company town known as Rosignano-Solvay. The original town, then known as Rosignano-Alto was a mile or two away up on the ridge. Rosignano-Solvay was on the coast and had a public beach on the Mediterranean Sea. The coastal highway ran up the coastline to Livorno.

Officially, the entire group was billeted in the village park in tents. There were actually two or three tents set up in the park. The billeting officer of the 35th squadron took Jack O'Donald, Harold Morris, another navigator by the name of Yorkgitis, and me through the village to No. 3 Via Dante where we entered the garden and he knocked upon the door with his bayonet. "Possibly, you have rooms for these American Officers, Si?" The lady said, "Si." So we moved in.

By January of 1945 Italy was one of the allies.  Once the Italian Military had surrendered, the villages turned out to welcome the advancing Americans.  The Americans did not treat the civilians as former enemies but as friends. 

The billeting officer of the 35th Squadron did in fact rap on the Paternoster door with a bayonet, but there was never a feeling of victors taking over from the vanquished.  We were treated as guests from the very first day.