I retired from the U. S. Army in l965 at the age of 37. During the 20 years I was in the army, I had many beautiful and exciting adventures. Here is just one of them.

In l955 I was an American soldier and stationed in the beautiful city of Salzburg, Austria. I loved the city and the wonderful people there. I had my own car so I could travel around the country and see all of the sights.

My army outfit was notified that we would be moving to Italy since the Big 4 Powers (United States, England, France and Russia) were leaving Austria and it was now free of our occupation. I hated to leave since I had developed so many great friends there - but it was time to go.

I drove toward the Brenner Pass and over the pass and down into Italy. I had vacationed in Italy before and loved the country and the people there. Once I was there a few months, I was again re-assigned to a beautiful town between Verona and Venice. I was a Master Sergeant and was able to live off post. So I rented a small apartment out of town, in a small village.

Once I had signed the lease, I found out that this village was all communist. I had read a book about the Bad American and how they acted in Italy. I did not want to be another one. So I went out of my way to show these people that all Americans are not bad people.

I had already lived in Japan, Korea, Germany, Austria and North Africa and all over the United States. I never did learn the Italian language - but with the few words I did speak, some jesters and expressions, they could understand me.

After I moved into my apartment, I wore my uniform into the village and to the grocery store. I purchased a few items and let the owner know I would be returning for more items. My army post had a small commissary but I also used the local stories.

Then I walked into the barber shop and told the barber that I needed a hair cut. He told me that he had been in the Italian army and knew how to give military hair cuts. So he put me into this chair and I got my hair cut. As I walked back to my apartment, I must admit, that I was a little proud of myself.

After work at times, i would go to the local restaurant for my dinner. I made sure to treat everyone good and to smile. I wanted to be the Good American. The word got around.

Soon the town people knew me and were very good to me. After a few months I knew the people and could say "Ciao" when I met them. I am not Catholic, but on some Sundays I would wear my uniform and attend their church. I always wore my uniform when I went into the village. I wanted everyone to know I was an American Soldier and I was also proud to be an American Soldier.

One day I returned from work and since it was a hot day, I parked on the street and left my car windows down since I was going right out again that evening. I did not go out again and soon forgot that my car was unlocked and the windows were down. Early the next morning I was awaken by the sound of thunder. Yes, we were having a down pour. It was raining hard. Then I sat up in bed and said to myself, "My car windows are down".

Next morning I went to my car with a blanket to cover the wet seat. Much to my surprise, my car windows were up and the car was locked. I never did know who did it, but someone in the village did it for me.

Little by little I was able to win over the local people into liking this American Soldier. I did things like this. One hot day I came home with a gallon of American Ice Cream and a large cake. I knew the neighbor children would be playing in the street in front of my house. I had paper plates, plastic spoons and soon had a line in front of me. The children were all poor and very polite. They were so cute as they waited in line and each got a piece of cake and a big scoop of American ice cream. The children had something to talk about that evening when they returned to their homes.

On a warm Sunday morning, my door bell rang. When I opened the door I found this beautiful old lady, holding a potted geranium. She indicated that the geranium was for me. So I invited her inside and together we walked to my small balcony. I then invited this lady for coffee. We each had a cup of American coffee and toast with peanut butter. That was all new to her. This lady had never seen or tasted peanut butter before. She loved it!

As we had our coffee and toast, I put a record of an Italian opera on the record player. She loved everything, the coffee, the toast with peanut better, the opera and most ME. She came several times and always gave me flowers.

Later when my re-assignment orders came out and I was going home, I took all of the flowers over to her little house. I told her that I was leaving for the U.S.A. She wanted to know if I would drive to America. I tried to explain but never could.

She then invited me to stay for lunch, so we had cheese, good Italian bread and a glass of red wine. Wonderful. I was impressed and loved it. I gave her my jar of peanut butter! She said she would treat it like it was gold!

So when I went into the village to shake hands with my friends and say good-by I was impressed with how many friends I had made in this little communist village.

Thanks for reading my story. I will answer all that want to write to me, so why not, let me know how you like this true story - OK?.