Saturday, March 10, 2012


(Published in Corrispondenze Repubblicane, February 9, 1944)

By Anonymous

To the now interminable list of Italian cities, villages and neighborhoods targeted by the wild raids of Anglo-Saxon bombers, another name must be added: that of Urbania. For the sake of history, it is necessary to report the details of what happened. Above all, Urbania is an urban center—or rather it used to be—composed of four thousand inhabitants, and stood on a ripple of those Marchesian hills located between the Apennine ridge and the Amarissimo, which reminds us of the verse by Leopardi: "Always dear to me was this lonely hill". It was an innocent little town; it had nothing to do with the military: no barracks, no offices, no garrisons, no camps, no direct or indirect war industries. A population composed of simple, honest, hard-working rural people and artisans, in whose hard work the yearning for beauty is present.

The Day of Aggression: on Sunday, at the precise moment when the crowd of men, women and children gathered outside the church, where they had just prayed to God with fervor and conviction, the attack came. It was 12 o'clock. Here, suddenly, a roar of aircraft filled the sky and the first bombs fell on the crowd. There were no shelters; therefore no shelter was possible. The modest and ancient houses exploded and were blown away by the blast of wind caused by the explosions. In the square in front of the church, and in the adjacent streets, hundreds of human lives were torn to pieces. The dead number about eight hundred; the number of wounded is even higher.

The American "liberators" have "liberated" the entire population of Urbania from existence. With sadistic fury, their Negro pilots applied their principle of terror for the sake terror, slaughter for the sake of slaughter, in accordance with the ruthless Talmudic doctrine which World Jewry is implementing in this war against everything that is Christian: against religion and against peoples.

After the advent of Christ, there were some particularly dark times in the history of Europe. Avalanches of barbarians descended from the distant steppes of Asia and sometimes turned the fertile lands of the West into a scorched earth; sometimes terrible epidemics halved populations; famines forced human masses to extinction by starvation or caused long laborious emigrations in search of bread; earthly catastrophes sowed terror and death. Faced with these frightening phenomena, the sudden unleashing of the forces of evil and the blind elements of nature, when despair seemed to bind the spirits with apocalyptic darkness, a rumor spread from one place to another in an attempt to find an explanation. Many said: the Antichrist is born!

Perhaps today the few survivors of Urbania think the same thing: the Antichrist is born. He who hates mankind and bears upon his body the mark of a particular curse is the Antichrist who ordered, desires and savors the massacre of innocents—a man just as cruel as Herod of Judea

The Antichrist of the twentieth century has a name. His name is Franklin Delano Roosevelt.