Lt. Charlie Botula’s Memorial Day Story

Brushy Creek Journal
Monday May 28, 2018

We have a shared responsibility to look directly into the eye of history and ask what we must do differently to curb such suffering again… President Barack Obama at Hiroshima, May 27, 2016

  When I was a little boy, Memorial Day was still called Decoration Day and it fell on May 30^th. My

Lt. Charles Botula, Jr. 

mom told me it was a memorial event that started at the end of the Civil War, because that’s when  Americans would pay tribute to the fallen who wore both blue and grey by decorating their graves with flowers. Many years later, in my American History class, I learned the observance actually began with former slaves celebrating the Emancipation Proclamation by decorating the wartime graves of African-Americans who fought for their freedom from slavery. Decoration Day eventually became a Memorial Day honoring Americans who fell in all our country’s wars. In 1968 Congress revamped our national holidays, combining these hallowed days into a pair of three-day weekends. Decoration Day is now Memorial Day and Armistice Day, which honored the fallen of World War I is now Veterans Day. Today we will again honor those who fought and died for their country.

  When my father returned from his US Navy service in World War II, he told my brother and I a story that I have told to my own son and daughter, and now my grandchildren as every new Memorial Day approaches. After I retired from my career as a journalist, I revisited my father’s story and did additional research. The result was my book, published in 2016 titled LST 920: Charlie Botula’s Long, Slow Target!

  My dad served as Executive Officer aboard the LST 920 during World War 2. His ship survived a

LST 920 at Sea - June 1944

deadly U boat attack on his convoy that sank a British escort ship and heavily damaged LST 921, the sister ship to the LST 920. The loss of life was heavy. The British ship, LCI(L)99 was literally blown out of the water.  LST 921 was torn in two, with the aft section sinking with half the crew. I’ve shared this story before.   My dad, Lt. (jg) Charles Botula, Jr. died in 1965 without ever knowing the full story about the afternoon of August 14^th, 1944 off the west coast of England. It’s taken me years to research it. Neither my Dad nor his Captain – Harry N. Schultz ever knew which enemy submarine attacked them or what happened to that U boat after the LST 921 and HMS LCI(L)99 were torpedoed. Most of the survivors of that terrible afternoon have also faded from our midst, but, their story is well worth the retelling. For in the retelling, we can pay them a long overdue honor.

  Monday, 14 August 1944 -16:54 hrs. - USS LST 920, commanded by Lieutenant Harry N. Schultz and

Lt. Harry N. Schultz

USS LST 921, under the command of Lieutenant John Werner Enge were underway in convoy EBC 72 from Milford Haven, Wales to Falmouth, England. They were suddenly attacked by the German submarine U667, under the command of Kapitӓnleutnant Karl-Heinze Lange. LST 921 was hit by the first torpedo and broke in two with the aft section sinking minutes later. Some survivors scampered to safety on the bow section. Others went overboard into the chilly water. When the aft section sank, it took half of the ship’s crew to the bottom.  General Quarters was sounded on the LST 920 and Captain Schultz came to the bridge. Seeing survivors in the water, Schultz ordered his radioman, Seaman Fred Benck to send a request for permission to turn his ship around to pick up survivors. Permission was denied and the 920 was ordered to proceed to Falmouth. Years later, Benck told me what happened next. “In about two minutes he came in the radio room and said, Benck send that message again! This time he waited for the answer which was the same, DO NOT BREAK CONVOY! H. N. Schultz then used these words: TO HELL WITH HIM! And we pulled out of convoy to turn back and pick up survivors! A message came from the Commander of the convoy to get back in formation. This message was never answered.”

 As my father watched from the bridge of the LST 920, he spotted a torpedo coming straight at him.

LCI(L)99 - Sunk by U667 1944

Just then, a British escort vessel, LCI(L)99 came alongside, took the full brunt of the torpedo and was blown out of the water. The 920 came about and Schultz ordered two small boats into the water with Ensign John Waters in one and Ensign Harold Willcox in the other, along with nine other sailors to rescue survivors. Willcox tied a line around his waist and jumped into the water numerous times to help pull survivors aboard. In his After-Action Report, Captain Schultz singled out Waters and Willcox and the nine seamen for outstanding performance during the action. In all, 48 survivors were rescued and brought aboard the LST 920.  Seaman Joe Wallace tells this part of the story. “I remember one of the 921 crew members coming up to the bridge all wet and oily. I gave him my locker keys and location, and he showered and put on some clean dry clothes. By this time it was dark. We gathered the survivors and were on our way to Falmouth. There, I had the task of counting the departing survivors - 42 walking and 6 stretcher cases.”

  Several other survivors from the 921 as well as the LCI (99) were rescued by a British ship that joined in the rescue operation. All told, about 65 survivors were picked up, but fully half of the LST 921’s complement of 107 officers and crew had been lost. Years would pass before a dusty and forgotten archive* would reveal the names of the sailors – Americans and British who lost their lives on that August afternoon more than seventy years ago. And so, on this Memorial Day 2016, I would like us to remember:

               Baker, Thomas A., USNR                              Seaman First Class           

               Banit, Roman J., USNR                                  Seaman Second Class      
               Bennett, Frederick W., USNR                       Seaman First Class            
               Bent, Eugene E., USNR                                  Seaman First Class           
               Clements, Charles M., USNR                        Seaman First Class            
               Dove, Raleigh J., USNR                                 Seaman Second Class     
               Enge, John Werner, USNR                            Lieutenant (Captain, survived)
               Feeney, Lawrence E., USNR                         Fireman Second Class      
               Fitton, Edward Joseph, USNR                      Seaman Second Class     
               Freely, James Joseph, USNR                        Boatswain's Mate 1st Class  
               Furino, Louis A., USNR                                  Coxswain             
               Guthrie, Edward J., USNR                             Ensign   
               Guziak, Walter V., USNR                               Seaman Second Class      
               Hoak, William K., USNR                                Gunner's Mate Third Class 
               Jerzewski, Chester R., USNR                        Seaman Second Class      
               Jones, Oscar R., USNR                                   Coxswain             
               Kozlik, John H., USNR                                    Seaman First Class           
               Lowe, Samuel M., USNR                               Seaman Second Class      
               Micheline, Carmine A., USNR                      Seaman Second Class      
               Mindlin, Daniel, USNR                                   Ensign   
               Monaco, Robert Chester, USNR                 Radioman Second Class 
               Moore, Charles H., USNR                             Seaman Second Class      
               Mulholland, William P., USNR                     Seaman Second Class      
               Newberry, Clyde, USNR                                Seaman Second Class      
               Pizon, John J., USNR                                      Seaman First Class          
               Potasky, Joseph E., USNR                             Seaman First Class           
               Progy, Henry, USNR                                       Motor Mach Mate 3^rd Class 
               Richard, Donald James, USNR                     Gunner's Mate 3^rd Class  
               Siring, Ronald John, USNR                            Ship's Cook Third Class    
               Smith, Kenneth J., USN                                  Boatswain's Mate 2nd Class 
               Smith, Lee I., USNR                                        Seaman Second Class     
               Smith, Ray R., USNR                                      Seaman First Class          
               Sprague, Herbert K., USNR                           Seaman Second Class     
               Suazoe, Ray M., USNR                                  Seaman Second Class      
               Totulis, Albert G., USN                                  Gunner's Mate 3^rd Class  
               Trachsel, Ernest W., USNR                           Seaman Second Class     
               Van Why, Henry, USNR                                 Seaman Second Class      
               Verity, Edward C., USNR                               Seaman Second Class     
               Vitense, Glenn, USNR                                    Seaman First Class           
               Widmer, Richard C., USNR                           Seaman Second Class     
               Yavornitzky, Andrew J., USNR                     Shipfitter Second Class   

After torpedoing LST 921, the U667 turned its sights on my father’s ship, LST 920, and launched another torpedo in its direction. My father told me of seeing the enemy torpedo streaking through the water toward his ship.  Just before the torpedo struck, LCI(L)99 steamed between the oncoming torpedo and dad’s ship and was blown out of the water. The escort vessel’s casualty list includes the names:

                Lt. Commander Arthur Reynolds, RN, age 24

                Leading Seaman Gordon Henry House, RN age 21
                Able Seaman James Quine, RN, age 21
                Able Seaman Francis Ernest Shacklock, RN, age 19
                Ordinary Seaman John Shields, RN
                Sub-Lieutenant Douglas Edwin Swatridge, RNVR, age 25
                Ordinary Seaman Donald Maurice Thompson, RN, age 20
                Able Seaman William Todd, RN, age 19

There is an important postscript to this story. The attacking submarine, U 667, had sunk four ships including the LST 921 and LCI (99) on what turned out to be its most successful cruise. But as it headed back to its base and a hero’s welcome, its jubilant crewmen could not know that their luck was about to change.

In all the research I did for this story, the US Navy and German Kriegsmarine archives revealed only

The Attacker - U-667

that U 667 struck a mine on or about August 25^th on the way back to its home base. But, as I researched further, I found the answer on a specialty internet site: uboat.net, which is devoted to the archives of the Kriegsmarine and its unterseebooten. According to the archives, the RAF had carried out a series of aerial mine-laying missions off the coast of France in an area code-named Cinnamon right after the U 667 left port on its final cruise. The RAF dropped mines into the U 667’s inbound route back to base. An RAF report that I read showed that the coordinates of that August 1944 mine-laying sweep matches the location where the U 667 was finally found and examined by diving crews. The loss of the U 667 was recorded by the Kriegsmarine after it missed a scheduled radio check-in on August 25^th. When U 667 failed to check in, Admiral Karl Dönitz’ high command assumed that the sub had been lost. Ironically, neither my father nor his Captain, Harry Schultz, nor any of the survivors from LST 921 ever knew what happened to the submarine that attacked them. The exploding mine sent U 667 to the bottom of the Bay of Biscay, where it remains with its entire crew of 45. The wreckage is now war grave. In addition to the sub’s captain, Karl-Heinze Lange, who was 26 years old, the identities of the other sailors  are listed in this 1944 roster of the U667’s crew:

Walter Bauch, age 26
Rolf-Rudiger Bensel, age 21
Helmut Borowsky, age 23
Friedrich Brübach, age 20
Kurt Brunk, age 21
Gustav Drewes, age 23
Franz Eder, age 21
Hans Ederer, age 24
Kurt Ehrenfeld, age 25
Johan Erasimus, age 20
Erich Faust, age 23
Wilhelm Fickert, age 23
Herbert Figlon, age 22
Hans Flach, age 23
Kurt Grimm, age 24
Hans-Georg Hagelloch, age 23
Adam Hahl, age 21
Artur Hantel, age 22
Wilhelm Hochstetter, age 23
Oswald Holle, age 20
Helmut Kabs, age 21
Helmut Krӧller, age 23
Kurt Laschke, age 21
Jürgen Leisler-Klep, age not listed
Heinz-Karl Matthias, age 25
Ludwig Maürer, age 21
Arnold Mittler, age 21
Heinrich Mrziglod, age 22
August Oehler, age 38
Walter Proske, age 21
Werner Reiβach, age 30
Emil Reitor, age 21
Georg Richter, age 24
Helmut Sauer, age 21
Richard Schӓefer, age 19
Reinhold Scheit, age 27
Rudolf Schӧmetzler, age 20
Gerhard Schrӧder, age 21
Gunter Schrӧder, age 30
Kurt Schulz, age 24
Willi Seeliger, age 20
Wilhelm Senden, age 21
Wilhelm Steigerwald, age 20
Rudolf Weiβ, age 21
Hans Witzel, age 23

 It’s fitting that we remember all who perished on this Memorial Day.

 Eternal Father, strong to save,

Whose arm hath bound the restless wave,
Who bid'st the mighty ocean deep
Its own appointed limits keep;
Oh, hear us when we cry to Thee,
For those in peril on the sea!

-Navy Hymn 
Ciao,
MikeBo

*LST 921, LCU(L)99, and U667 casualty lists via Uboat.net and US Navy Archives.

[Mike Botula, author of LST 920: Charlie Botula’s Long, Slow Target! Is a retired broadcast journalist, government spokesman and media consultant. Mike’s book is available from Amazon or Barnes and Noble Books. Visit Mike Botula at: www.mikebotula.com.]

The Long Road Home!

Rome Diary IV:
Il Mio Ritorno a Roma!
Easter Sunday: April 1, 2018
Thunderstorms 62°F/17°C in Roma EUR, Italia
Cloudy 80°F/27°C in Cedar Park, Texas
Buona giornata amici miei!
        A chorus of Buon Viaggio’s sent me on my way.  I bid my friends Arrivederci.  Ci vediamo miei amici! See you, my friends! Sergio, Laura’s dad replied, Ci vediamo PRESTO, Mike! See you SOON,

Goin' Home!

Mike! Then Michael drove me back to my rented apartment on Viale Cesare Pavese, to finish my packing and get a good night’s sleep before my departure. The flight back was tedious, but uneventful. On my stopover in Atlanta I went through a final passport check and answered a few perfunctory questions from the U.S. Customs officer. Then, I boarded my flight for the final two-hour flight back to Austin.

      Dana and my grandson Jacob were waiting for me at the curb outside baggage claim for the drive to the apartment I had not seen in two months. Before she headed to the airport, my daughter had gone to the market and restocked my fridge, so I could make myself a snack before I went to bed.  Unlike Rome, where most people don’t eat their evening meal until after 8 o’clock, restaurants in Cedar Park tend to close by ten p.m. My two-month journey was over.

La mia cara maestra Patrizia,
       Prima di tutto, vorrei ringraziarla per aver concesso la mia richiesta di essere assente dalla classe italiana così che potessi viaggiare in Italia per due mesi.
Il tuo studente,
Mike
(My Dear Teacher Patrizia,
      First of all, I would like to thank you for granting my request to be absent from Italian Class, so I could travel to Italy for two months.
Your student,
Mike)

My Italian teacher, Patrizia is from Puglia, Italy. I’ve been taking her class at Austin Community College ever since I arrived in Texas two years ago. According to my online course with Duo Lingo, I am now 49 % fluent in Italian. But, I am still at a loss without the Google Translator App on my IPhone. This trip was supposed to be a sort of final exam for me – putting my newly acquired language skills into a real-life situation while living in Rome. Candidly, after two months of actually living in Italy I would have to give myself a grade of “D!”  In other words, it wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be.

Cara Patrizia,
       Sono tornata nello stesso appartamento in euro che avevo affittato l'anno scorso. Ho shopped allo stesso supermercato Elite come l'ultima volta, ha incontrato i miei amici per aperitivo, cenato in ristoranti a Roma e Milano, e viaggiato in metropolitana. Ho incontrato la mia amica Monica dallo scambio di lingua. Ma, quando sono tornato in Texas, ho ancora sentito che le mie competenze in lingua italiana erano ancora molto inadeguata.
Il tuo studente,
 Mike
(Dear Patrizia,
      I returned to the same apartment in EUR that I had rented last year. I shopped at the same Elite supermarket as last time, met my friends for aperitivo, dined in restaurants in Rome and Milan, and traveled by Metro. I met my friend Monica from the language exchange. But, when I returned to Texas, I still felt that my skills in the Italian language were still very inadequate.
Your student,
Mike)

We should have an interesting chat when I attend class on Thursday.

         On this trip I arrived in Rome on a Monday morning in January. As usual, Michael was waiting for me right outside Customs. We drove quickly to my apartment on Viale dell’Oceano Atlantico, and quickly got me moved in for the next month. Normally, I take a few days off after a long flight like that, but my son had other ideas. We leave for Milan early tomorrow morning. You can get over your jet lag there, dad, my son informed me. Laura, his wife, is now working in Milan. She commutes from Rome to Milan via high-speed train on Mondays and returns home on Thursday or Friday.
My son had planned a surprise birthday present for me in Milan. That’s the real reason I had

Michael and Mike Botula,

L'Ultima Cena

no respite between my transatlantic flight and our train trip from Rome to Milano. Wednesday was my birthday, and Michael and Laura had something special in mind as a gift for me. That morning, Michael and I boarded a tram for the short trip to the Milan Cathedral. We were about to embark on a walking tour of the city. Where we wound up was the surprise birthday gift. The photo that accompanies my blog on this Easter Sunday is especially meaningful to me.  My birthday gift from Michael and Laura was a visit to the refectory of the Convent of Santa Maria delle Grazie in Milano, so I could visit Leonardo Da Vinci’s masterpiece, L’Ultima Cena, the world-renowned The Last Supper. It was the high point, for me, of my entire two-month stay in Italy.

       Our trip to Milan is recounted in my January 24^th blog: Sopresa! Siamo a Milano!  You can read it on my blog or my website: www.mikebotula.com. In fact, my entire series of Rome Diaries is available on my website. I liken the series to Gulliver’s Travels, in Italian!
        As I approached the end of my scheduled one-month sojourn in Rome, I began to regard my departure date with a sense of dread. One night over dinner, Laura asked, So, is there any real reason why you must leave?  Within a few minutes, Dana had agreed to keep Lola for another month, my doctors’ appointments were re-scheduled, and I had re-booked my return ticket. The deal was done.
       The only snag in our plan to extend my stay came when I told my landlady, Amina, about my change of plan. Expecting me to vacate my little aerie in mid-February, she had rented the apartment to another person. A couple from Los Angeles, as it turned out. So, Laura, who is the unofficial international travel agent for the clan found another apartment a short distance away on Viale Cesare Pavese in the same neighborhood. Without missing a beat, I packed my bags and the three of us got me moved into my new digs. My new landlord was a retired Tunisian diplomat

Neve in Roma!

named Mohamed, who travels between his estate in Tunis and his apartment in Rome. Like many other Italians, when Mohamed goes on holiday or travels on extended business trips, he sublets his apartment through Airbnb or Home Finder. That’s how our paths crossed. When I told Mohamed that I was a writer and a retired journalist, naturally our conversation turned to European politics, and within a short time, we became fast friends. Italy’s general election was just a few weeks in the future, and Germany had just had an election, so we had a lot to talk about.

      I was in that apartment when it snowed in Rome for the first time in years. The city was paralyzed. Buses and the metro stopped running. Schools and businesses shut down. It was magic. And next to seeing the Last Supper, the snowfall in the Eternal City was the high point of my holiday. I walked out on to my balcony and just savored the view. It was magic!
Ciao,

MikeBo

[Mike Botula is the author of LST 920: Charlie Botula’s Long, Slow Target! He is a retired broadcast journalist, government spokesperson and media consultant.   Mike’s book is available from Amazon or Barnes and Noble Books. You can visit Mike Botula at www.mikebotula.com]

Winding Down!

Rome Diary IV:
Il Mio Ritorno a Roma!
7 Marzo 2018, Mercoledi
Sunny with Rain Later 57°F/14°C in Roma, EUR
Cloudy 67°F/20°C in Cedar Park, Texas
Buona giornata amici miei!
      Ever since it snowed here last week, Jupiter – the ancient Roman God of Storms -  has been

MikeBo and La Neve!

trying to persuade me that my decision to stay on in Rome for an extra month was a bad idea! (I was trying to avoid for a while longer the political chaos back at home, and maybe – MAYBE – avoid an environmental disaster or North Korean nuclear attack on my corner of Texas in the process!) Adding to my weather-related mopery was the number of my well-meaning friends back home who were thoughtful enough to share a CNN story entitled Rome’s Sad Decline Sums Up Italy’s Problems! My favorite city was being used as the horrible example of what ails the whole country, on the eve of Italy’s National Elections. Which, it now turns out were inconclusive, and it will take weeks, if not months, to form a new government, which is part of the Italian National Problem! The new government will be Italy’s 66^th  or maybe its 67^th  government since 1946.

      The pot-holed, rutted streets of Rome, and the piles of uncollected garbage are little noticed by the throngs of tourists who are primarily interested in seeing ancient ruins anyway and pay little attention to the graffiti that adorns walls all over the city. Only on the national highways, the autostradi, does a motorist get any relief from the kidney-bruising rough rides along Rome’s pot-hole infested streets. My message to my well-meaning, but dubious friends is this: Rome has had historic falls in its past but has always risen to new and glorious heights. So, I am not worried about a few rutted streets or random piles of garbage!
      A city that is nearly 3,000 years old and still relies on its 2,000-year-old sewer system and ancient aqueducts is surely not going to disappear under a bit of trash or a few pot-holed streets for

La Famiglia at Ancient Paestum

very long. Rome has withstood hordes of barbarians of varying sorts over the centuries along with plagues and pestilences of many varieties. It has suffered under kings of many nations and modern dictators, fascist and Nazi! What’s a little graffiti, or a smattering of trash? But YES! Italy does have some political challenges, which even has some of my friends in the ex-pat community voicing concern. (As if we didn’t have sufficient political woes back home in the U.S. of A.)  But, I am not going to dwell on the care and feeding of the body politic, either Italian or American. Instead, I will focus on the high points of this trip and how I will prepare for my next Roman Holiday.

      Next time, I will plan on staying for two or three months at the outset. That way, there is no last-minute scrambling. It’s easier for my family on both sides of the Atlantic. And, I will choose a warmer time of year for my next sojourn. It’s no fun to sit home day after day while it’s rainy and cold outside, when I should be taking long walks and getting to know my neighbors a little better. The snowfall we had last Monday was a bonus to me, but even a few inches of snow brought Rome to a standstill. The Mayor was in Mexico at an environmental conference and, naturally, was blamed for all the glitches that occurred in her absence. Like, the lack of snow tires for Rome’s fleet of transit buses.
      Looking back on the past two months, I have some treasured memories: the high speed train trip to Milan and the sights I saw in Northern Italy; the visit to ancient Paestum and learning more about Magna Graecia, and the expansion of ancient Greece onto the southern reaches of the Italian Peninsula; the thrill of seeing a performance of the National Circus of Cuba, in Rome and just a short distance from Michael and Laura’s home. THAT was a great show. In fact it was held over past its original departure date of February 18^th and was still going strong in mid-March.

Laura and Michael -

Lumina Studios

I’m getting a big kick watching my son’s career take off. When we arrived back from Milan, he was whisked away to the taping of a Television pilot for an Italian game show where he was the host. At Rome’s Comedy Club, he did his first stint as a stand-up comic. His band No Funny Stuff is making more frequent radio and television appearances in addition to their club dates, private party bookings and their concert and festival appearances. No Funny Stuff has competed on Italy’s Got Talent! Displayed their culinary talents on Chef Andrea Mainardi’s cooking show and have another forthcoming appearance on another RAI-TV show demonstrating their home-made musical instruments. Michael is still working at his day jobs – tour guide and English teacher, but he’s growing as a performer.  

Despite my extended visit to Rome, there is a lot that I did not get to do – I was not able to make my long-anticipated trip to the Czech Republic to visit the city where my grandparents emigrated to America in 1903. I did not fly to Amsterdam to see my lady friend Joan. I missed seeing la mia amica Romana, Alba, because I visited the museum gift shop where she works, on her day off.
       Michael took me on a private, personally guided tour of the Vatican Museum, the Sistine Chapel and St. Peter’s Basilica. At the Sistine Chapel, where the new Pope is elected by the College of Cardinals, I got the inside view of that process from my son who had worked for CNN as a production assistant following the death of Pope John Paul II. Our chat in the Sistine Chapel was far more revelatory to me than reading Dan Brown’s Angels and Demons.
        On another occasion, he took me to another outstanding art gallery, Il Palazzo Barberini, Italy’s National Art Gallery. Housed there are masterpieces by great artists like Caravaggio and Raphael.

Two Mikes Contemplate Caravaggio!

The Palazzo’s collection includes: Raphael’s La Fornarina, Caravaggio’s Judith Beheading Holofernes and Hans Holbein’s Portrait of Henry VIII, which I recognized instantly from following the adventures of the Tudors on Masterpiece Theatre!

         Roman history is like a big Lasagna, my son is fond of saying. There’s layer upon layer of history in this Lasagna. Just choose a point in time and DIG IN! You’re bound to come across something that fascinates you.
And so, it is!

Ciao,
MikeBo

[Mike Botula is the author of LST 920: Charlie Botula’s Long, Slow Target! He is a retired broadcast journalist, government spokesperson and media consultant.   Mike’s book is available from Amazon or Barnes and Noble Books. You can follow his blog at: mikebotula.blogspot.com, or visit Mike Botula at www.mikebotula.com ]

Stranger in a Strange Land: The Blog!

Rome Diary IV:
Il Mio Ritorno a Roma!
27 Febbraio 2018
La Neve (Yes! SNOW!) 35°F/2°C a Roma
Tuoni (Thundershowers) 70°F/21°C in Cedar Park, Texas
Buona giornata amici miei!
      My apologies to Ray Bradbury, who wrote about a Martian transported to Earth. I’m writing about an American, me, transplanted to another country, Italia!

Mike Botula

Since, I am thinking about not merely delaying my returns to my homeland, but actively  considering moving here permanently, I tend to view my Roman Holidays a bit differently than the average turista. I’m thinking about how the legendary 19^th century explorer Karel Botula I first felt when he planted the flag of the Hapsburg Empire on the barren shores of Philadelphia, and first felt the cold stares of alien creatures who wore neckties and spoke only English and called out strange names like honky and dirty bohunk and exhorting the hardy explorers to go back where ya came from, ya filthy furriner! Since he did not yet speak English, Karel and his companions from steerage could not know that the natives were murmuring thoughts like, buncha dang furriners! They’re taking the food outta the mouths of REAL  ‘MERICANS ‘n feedin’ their own anarchist brats.  

My grandfather, who had spent part his meager savings to pay one of the unscrupulous labor contractors who scoured eastern Europe for the unskilled labor to run the mines and foundries of  Titans like Andrew Carnegie and Henry Clay Frick, was completely unaware that his wanton desire to

Johana and Karel Botula

feed his family and give his children an education and grant them the opportunities that America promised, was driving real Americans into wrack and ruin. The motley gaggle of immigrants were quickly hustled aboard waiting trains and swiftly taken to the coal fields of western Pennsylvania, where they were each given a pick and shovel and a miner’s helmet and taken deep underground to dig for buried treasure, as a coal miner. My grandfather passed the next ten years of his life, thusly. Six days a week. 12 hours of every day. He rarely saw daylight in that whole time.

       So, fast-forward about one hundred years, and try to follow my own convoluted thought process as I write my blogs and chronicle my own travels. There’s a big difference between Karel Botula facing an unknown future and his grandson facing retirement with a family already in place, waiting for him to make up his mind. I can’t help myself. I see every new trip to Italy through the eyes of a refugee, or a brand-new expatriate!  And, with the dawning of each new day here in Rome, I find myself channeling Karel Botula, on his new life in America.
      For one thing, his employer, the Ellsworth Coal Company, did offer its immigrant workers and their families a rudimentary social support system. The company provided everything, housing, schools, the notorious company store, which accepted only the currency printed by the company to pay its workers – called scrip. There was a company doctor, who treated mineworkers injured in the numerous mine accidents. (Karel lost two fingers in a mining accident). If he had time, he would care for the wives and children of the miners. My grandmother, Johana, once travelled to far-away Chicago to receive training as a mid-wife, and eventually helped hundreds of immigrant mothers bring their children into the world as brand new American citizens. One of Karel Botula’s conditions of employment was that he was required to become a citizen of the United States.
     This was not altogether an altruistic gesture on the part of the Ellsworth Coal Mining Company. The new American Industrial Revolution was powered by the millions of immigrants coming to this country either completely on their own volition or recruited by brokers who scoured the European countrysides to recruit people for the American labor force. If these immigrants did not become American citizens, they would become a political liability for the Barons of Industry. So, Karel and Johana Botula and three of their children, Maximilian, Karola and Frantiska became U.S. citizens. And so, many decades later, I’m struggling to fit into a new life where the language is different, politics are strange, and the legal system is alien to me.  In an overwhelmingly Catholic country, my Protestant upbringing verges on irrelevance, but, I love Italy. I have family here. Not just my son and his wife, but also their extended family. Michael and Laura have introduced me to their circle of friends in the ex-pat community, so I am making new friends. I love my visits to Italy. I wish my own country was still the warm, welcoming place it once was. But, a sort of madness has taken hold back home, and I don’t know if the clouds of distrust and fear will ever lift. It’s easy to see what’s happening back home from the distance and perspective that Europe affords. I never thought I’d be quoting Thomas Wolfe about my homeland! I always thought that Wolfe was referring to a location other than one’s native country when he said, you can’t go home again!
      There I go…thinking out loud again! What else is going on? Oh yes! It snowed in Rome Sunday

Il Neve a Roma

night. When the sun rose on Monday, the Eternal City had taken on a shimmering blanket of pure white. I couldn’t wait to go out onto my balcony to snap some pictures. Pure enchantment!

       Oh! More good news! Marsha Cincinnati has added a Sunday night of stand-up comedy to The Rome Comedy Club’s monthly performance schedule. So, every month, on Friday and Sunday, laughter fills the big room at the Tiki Lounge in Ostiense, a short stroll from the Piramide Metro Station. (In case you happen to be in Rome and would like to laugh).
     Late Monday morning as I was watching the snowy scene outside and contemplating a walk to the store, Laura called to invite me down to join her and Sofia for a caffѐ at il bar across the street. By the time I got downstairs Laura and Sofia were waiting for me along with her neighbor Tiziana  and her husband Pino. Seeing me, Sofia perked up her ears and barked in recognition. The shopping center is closed because of the snow, Laura said. So, we will have to walk a short distance to the other place. Everyone in Rome had taken a Snow Day off from work to play in the white stuff.  After our coffee and pastry, and a quick stop at the grocery store next door, we headed back up the hill for home.  Another perfect day.
Ciao,
MikeBo

[Mike Botula is the author of LST 920: Charlie Botula’s Long, Slow Target! He is a retired broadcast journalist, government spokesperson and media consultant.   Mike’s book is available from Amazon or Barnes and Noble Books. You can follow his blog at: mikebotula.blogspot.com, or visit Mike Botula at www.mikebotula.com]

Una Città di Sorrisi! (A City of Smiles!)

Rome Diary IV:

Il Mio Ritorno a Roma!

Wednesday February 21, 2018

Mostly Cloudy 52°F/11°C in Roma, EUR, Italia

Thunderstorms 71°F/22°C in Cedar Park, Texas

Buona giornata amici miei!

Rome is the City of Echoes, the City of Illusions and the City of Desires, observed Giotto di Bondone almost 700 years ago! I would add one more. I think of Rome as the City of Smiles! Everywhere that I wander in Rome or elsewhere, I seem to see smiling faces, especially when I 

Sofia and MikeBo, All Smiles!

attempt to speak the native tongue. When the conversation moves past the rudimentary Ciao! Buongiorno! Come stai? Or, Dov’ѐ il bagno? I have a set phrase that I’ve come up with, courtesy of Google Translator: Sono di Texas. Sto appena iniziando a parlare italiano! (I’m from Texas. I’m just beginning to speak Italian!) That seems to work a lot better than the frequent non parlo italiano.

The tour company that my son Michael works for, City Wonders, specializes in tours all around Europe for native speakers of English. That makes it a lot easier for first time travelers. When, Michael introduced me to the City Wonders crew before our tour of the Vatican, they were smiling, too. I’m not exactly a stranger to this great city. I’ve been coming to Rome since 2005 to visit Michael and Laura. But, except for 2013, when I wound up renting a studio apartment and staying nearly three months, I usually don’t stay longer than a month. But, this time I decided, at the last minute, to stay for another month. Since my smiling landlady, Amina, had already rented the apartment I had occupied for my first month, Laura booked me into a nearby apartment through Airbnb, in the same neighborhood.

My new landlord is a smiling, retired Tunisian diplomat named Mohamed, who travels between Rome, Tunisia and Canada. His Rome apartment in a high-rise building along a street named for an Italian poet, Cesare Pavese. There’s a bus stop a few yards up the street, and a little further in the direction of my old apartment, diagonally across Viale Cesare Pavese is the Centro commerciale il GranPavese, a neighborhood mall with un barbiere, un Bancomat, un tabaccheria, un bar, e un Supermercato. This stretch of the avenue also offers the services of other merchants’ shops and restaurants, including an excellent ristorante Cinese. But, if you’re doing Chinese or other Asian cuisine, you’ll have to ask for chopsticks. So, let me save you some awkward moments. Just ask your server, Vorrei le bachette…I would like chopsticks!

Amina, my smiling landlady!

Closer to Laura and Michael’s home is a large open-air market with a wide array of stalls and merchandise of all kinds, usually at bargain prices. Most people here do their food shopping daily, not only because the emphasis is on fresh food but because it is easier to walk to a neighborhood market than drive several chilometri to a shopping mall. Although EurRoma 2, a major Roman shopping center with all the bells and whistles is less than two miles from me. That’s where we saw CirCuba, the National Circus of Cuba, a few weeks. By the way, the circus is still in Rome for a few more days. If you’re in town, I heartily recommend it.

Sunday, Michael, Beppe, Darius and Seppe, the stalwarts of No Funny Stuff! were playing at a street Festa in Poggio Mirteto, not far from Laura’s folks’ home in Selci. Il Carnevalone Liberato 2018 celebrates the unification of Italy and the last days of the Papal States and the end of the Pope’s influence over secular life in Italy. The revelers here are partying during Lent and show their disdain for the Papacy at the close of the Festa by burning the Pope in effigy. I was shocked! Set FIRE to the POPE?  

The people LOVE Papa Francesco, dad, said Michael. But, during Unification, the Pope wasn’t exactly the warm and fuzzy figure he is now. In fact, the matter wasn’t settled until 1929 when the Lateran Treaty between Mussolini’s Fascist government and the Holy See was signed, establishing

Me and My New Pals!

the boundaries of Vatican City. After No Funny Stuff! had played their last set and we were long gone, an effigy of the Pope was set ablaze. Italian politics can be raucous, and, they’re not limited to Italy, as I discovered when I met two new friends, who reminded me to brush up on my Italian when I’m asked about American politics. Italians frequently ask me how I voted in the last election. I have a ready response: Sono un americano! Ma non ho votato per Donald Trump! For the inevitable follow-up, my reply is: Inoltre, non sono un sostentore di Donald Trump! I don’t think I need to translate either sentence. What’s more, that’s all I’m going to say on the subject – I’m on vacation!

This week, I’m settling into the new apartment and getting better acquainted with the neighborhood. Michael has an especially busy teaching and training schedule, and Laura is working in Milan this week. We won’t be venturing out among our ex-pat friends until Friday when Marsha Cincinnati hosts a new show with Rome’s Comedy Club! Those are laugh fests in multiple languages. Hmmm! I wonder if Devo is going to pick on me again like last time.

Marsha Cincinnati

    I try to include a smattering of good travel advice, when I write about my traipsing, but if you have a question or you’re thinking about your own Roman Holiday, send me a note and I’ll do my best to get you a quick reply.  In the meantime,

I’ll keep you posted along the way.
Ciao,
MikeBo

[Mike Botula is the author of LST 920: Charlie Botula’s Long, Slow Target! He is a retired broadcast journalist, government spokesperson and media consultant.   Mike’s book is available from Amazon or Barnes and Noble Books. You can follow his blog at: mikebotula.blogspot.com, or visit Mike Botula at www.mikebotula.com]

A Slight Change In The Game Plan!

Rome Diary IV:
Il Mio Ritorno a Roma!
Thursday February 15, 2018
Sunny 52°F/11°C in Roma, EUR, Italia
Cloudy 67°F/19°C in Cedar Park, Texas
Caro Diario:
       Ti ricordi ho detto che avrei lasciato Roma il 15 Febbraio? Well, I’ve decided to stay another month. So, THERE!
       In all actuality, as decisions go, it was a no-brainer! All it took was for my son Michael to give me a slight nudge. Seriously, Pop! Do you have any really pressing appointments back in TEXAS? When I

Marsha Cincinnati and Friends

couldn’t think of any reasons, he came back at me with, That settles it! Instead of driving you to the airport, we’ll drive up to Selci for a few days, AND you can hear No Funny Stuff play on Sunday. I’ll even throw in a kazoo, so you can play along.
       When I broke the news to my landlady, Amina, her usual smile disappeared. I had booked the apartment from her based on my original departure date, and I had already planned on spending a few days with Mike and Laura prior to liftoff. So, suddenly I was confronted with the realities of the internet vacation rental business – Amina had rented MY apartment to a TOTAL STRANGER!  For a moment I panicked - I couldn’t impose on Mike and Laura for a whole MONTH! You will no doubt recall what old Ben Franklin said about company. Fish and guests begin to smell after three days! Being quick on his feet, my son tapped out a text to a friend of his in Tunis, and in scant seconds, I would once again have a place of my own. It’s right near

Amina, My  Landlady

where you’re staying now. The apartment’s bigger and it’s the same price as Amina’s place. Wow! Three cheers for the pride of my loins!

       Actually, being a truly international city, Rome has a rather large, English-speaking expatriate community. The ex-pats blend in quite comfortably in their own social structure within Rome’s larger universe. And no one exemplifies that smaller society within the larger universe than the funny and indestructible Marsha De Salvatore, known to her many fans up and down the boot of Italy as Marsha Cincinnati, of Rome’s Comedy Club! Marsha is the guiding light and mentor to an international group of young, up and coming, stand-up comedians from a variety of nations. Michael took me along last Spring when Marsha’s troupe was performing in Monti. She invited him to emcee on that particular night, and this proud pop got to see his boy doing stand-up comedy. This time around, Michael did his first full stand-up routine.
       A few nights later, over dinner at Laura and Michael’s home, I chatted with Marsha about Rome’s Comedy Club, and her own career as a stand-up comic, producer and her parallel role as the

Marsha Cincinnati, aka Marsha De Salvatore

star of her own one-woman show. The young comedians who perform with Marsha on stage at the circuit of Rome nightclubs that give Marsha’s troupe all of the attributes of a traveling circus are only part of her story. She has also managed to transform a potentially life-threatening chronic illness into a one-woman performance that is playing to rave reviews all up and down the boot of Italy.

      Faced with the periodic ordeal of blood transfusions, Marsha has gleaned the humor from her malady and has taken it on the road to set the example to others who share her predicament, as well as to entertain members of their families. Having seen her perform several times, and chatting with Marsha any number of times, I was completely unaware that the specter of a potentially grave illness loomed over her. As a retired journalist, I’m trained to try and detect any chinks in the armor of even the most casual of personal contacts. But, Marsha Cincinnati totally got past me on that one. When I asked why she had left the U.S. for Rome to ply her brand of comedy in a country that didn’t even speak the same language, she floored me with, I’m from Cincinnati! Y’ever been to Cincinnati? Nothing there for me! Nothing!  Fortunately for Marsha, her family has deep roots here in Italy and, because of that, she was able to obtain a long-term visa and access to the national health care system that enables her to work and support herself in a meaningful way. Back home, she said, I would be unable to work because of my health. I’d be on welfare, getting my treatments, all the time with people glaring at me because they’d be convinced that I’m gaming the system! I had apparently struck a nerve with my attempt to learn what it is about Rome that attracts so many expatriates. Look! She said, Here in Rome, I am among my family and friends, getting the care that I need to keep working my butt off, doing something with my career that I truly love, and making a living at it. I can’t do that in CINCINNATI!
      Rome has always had a sizable expatriate community, but, like many other Americans, my ties are mostly to the English-speaking elements. At that point my son chimed in, Marsha makes a good point! Back in California, I’d probably be playing in a garage band somewhere, or playing weekend

MikeBo Jr - No Garage Bands!

gigs like weddings and parties, hoping for an occasional club date. Here, he continued, we are playing mostly club dates and festivals. We’re making TV appearances and guest shots on radio shows. I just shot a pilot for a TV game show as a host, and now Marsha is giving me an opportunity to do stand-up comedy.

      The easiest way to check out what Marsha Cincinnati and Rome’s Comedy Club is up to is to feed the names into GOOGLE or one of the other search engines or give her a LIKE on Facebook or Trip Advisor. Or before you add a visit to Rome’s Comedy Club to the itinerary for your next trip to Rome, you can check out a few laughs via You Tube. Who knows, maybe my extended stay will enable me to catch another evening of Marsha’s comedy.
      Even my Italian teacher approves of my staying longer here in Rome. Patrizia had been holding my place in her class until I returned. But she didn’t bat an eye when I told her I was staying longer. In Italian she told me that I would probably learn the language more quickly in Rome than in her classroom. I think she’s right. With actually living here, learning Italian can be a survival skill.
Ci vediamo!

Ciao,
MikeBo

[Mike Botula is the author of LST 920: Charlie Botula’s Long, Slow Target! He is a retired broadcast journalist, government spokesperson and media consultant.   Mike’s book is available from Amazon or Barnes and Noble Books. You can follow his blog at: mikebotula.blogspot.com, or visit Mike Botula at www.mikebotula.com]

Roma: La città di Echi - Rome: The City of Echoes!

Rome Diary IV:
Il Mio Ritorno a Roma!
Wednesday February 7, 2018
Partly Cloudy 53°F/12°C in Roma
Cloudy 43°F/6°C in Cedar Park, Texas
Buona giornata amici miei!
     I’m frustrated as I glance at my calendar and see that I am nearing the end of my Roman holiday. Be that as it may, I am already plotting my return. I’m meeting new friends and re-connecting with

Michael Bo and Crew

friends I’ve made on previous trips since my first adventure in Rome back in 2005.  While most first-time visitors to Italy come here as a traveler with a pre-packaged tour group and must deal with a dazzling array of activities and destinations, my pace has been more leisurely. Michael showed me around Rome for the entire two weeks of my first visit. Since he is a professional, licensed tour guide with City Wonders Tours, I’ve enjoyed an advantage most tourists don’t have – I just tag along with my son as he does his job. Along with my son and daughter-in-law, Laura, I’ve now travelled to Florence, Naples, Venice, and most recently to Milan where we spent the first week of my vacation. I’ve also travelled to Amsterdam to reminisce about the good old days with a dear lady friend. And, in the future, I hope to hop over to the Czech Republic to visit with some of the relatives my grandparents left behind when they emigrated to America back in 1903.
     I’ve come back to the same apartment I rented last year, which is close to Mike and Laura. And while it’s closer to Fiumicino Airport than Roma Centro and the Coliseum, it’s a short walk to the Laurentina Metro Station and closer still to major bus lines. So, it’s easy for me to get downtown. 

Amina, My Landlady

My landlady, Amina, is originally from Morocco, and speaks at least three languages that I recognize. (I’m quite sensitive to the language thing, because of my own efforts to learn Italian). Like many Romans, Amina usually rents her place through Airbnb, usually for short stays. I seem to be one of her few customers who stays for a month or longer.  I’ve already told her that I’d like to come back on my next trip. Since I’m now one of her regular renters, she is agreeable to adding some of the amenities that would make my stays more enjoyable. Like another table for my laptop, so I don’t have to use my tiny kitchen as an office.
      One noticeable difference about housekeeping in Rome is that while Italian homes have washing machines, they don’t have clothes driers! Mamma hangs the wet clothes either on clotheslines in the yard or on portable folding drying racks on the porch, balcony or patio. Last year, I bought one of those racks and left it with Amina when I returned to Texas. This time she has done several loads of laundry for me, which I greatly appreciated. When I told her that I had a washer and a drier in my apartment, she was flabbergasted!
     On Monday, I had caffѐ with my partner from mio cambio linguistico-my language exchange.  Monica is an attorney-in-waiting, who has taken her written exam and is waiting for the results, so she can take the oral exam. Michael arranged through the school he teaches at to bring Monica and

Il Cambio Linguistico con Gelato!

I together last spring to practice our language skills. She is learning English and I am trying to learn Italian. In our 30 minutes together, our entire conversation was a zany mixture of broken English and broken Italian. Nobody but the two of us could have known what the conversation was all about.  Regretfully, that was the only opportunity we would have to meet. She would be traveling around Italy on her company’s business for the next week. Then, off to Lisbon. By the time she returns, I will be back in Texas. She goes to English class every week and practices on line with DuoLingo, like I do, every day. I will resume my class at Austin Community College with Patrizia when I return to Texas, and of course, keep polishing my language skills with DuoLingo.
     I have a line of dialogue that I use whenever I get into trouble with communicating. A few days ago, as I was checking out at my neighborhood Elite Supermercato, I found myself fumbling with my Euro coins. The cashier who is a very friendly, helpful person, tried to direct me to the proper change in a stream of Italian that left me even more confused. That’s when I uttered my rescue speech. Taking a deep breath, I spoke out! Sono Americano! Sto appena iniziando a parlare italiano.... I’m American! I am just beginning to speak Italian! My cashier responded in a voice loud

Michael and Laura e Venditore

enough to be heard in the growing line behind me, Aha! Sono Americano! She smiled and began to applaud. The others in the line also cheered my linguistic effort. Now, when I go grocery shopping Laura will frequently ask me to pick up a few items for dinner. She will give me the Italian words: panѐ, pommodori, finocchi, or caffѐ o tѐ. Bread. Tomatoes, fennel or coffee or tea. Even shopping can be a vocabulary lesson for me, thanks to my daughter-in-law. The translator app on my IPhone even has a camera feature that I use to translate product labels.
      One of the highlights of this trip for me was going to listen to Michael’s band, No Funny Stuff in the company of two delightful ladies from my home town. What were the odds that I would meet Adriana and Claudia Nataloni thousands of miles away from our home town of Riverhead, New York? And, it all came about when my son checked into a Rome hospital for

Adriana, MikeBo and Claudia Nataloni

shoulder surgery and Adriana recognized our family’s name from her growing-up days back in Riverhead. When I posted the picture on Facebook, I got a big response from old friends and school classmates. The world is, indeed, smaller than we think.
    Next time, I have dinner with a lady ex-pat with a great story. And, after that, a visit to an ancient Greek city with a fascinating history.
I’ll keep you posted along the way.

Ciao,
MikeBo

[Mike Botula is the author of LST 920: Charlie Botula’s Long, Slow Target! He is a retired broadcast journalist, government spokesperson and media consultant.   Mike’s book is available from Amazon or Barnes and Noble Books. You can follow his blog at: mikebotula.blogspot.com, or visit Mike Botula at www.mikebotula.com]