ABSTRACT
One hot August evening in 2008, like a bolt out of the blue, something happened. I was at the seaside resort on the Veneto Adriatic coast where my family spent our summer holidays. The resort is very popular with Austrians and Germans, as it is nearer (and a better value than) the trendier beaches further down the Adriatic coast, such as Rimini and Cattolica. In the Veneto, we are not as swamped with tourists. That night, my grandmother and I are taking a pleasant walk after dinner. In the street, people stroll with their ice creams and sunburns. All of a sudden, Grandma has a jolt. She elbows me slightly, pointing at two youths walking some four metres in front of us. They are tall, young, blond – possibly German, or eastern European. My Grandma whispers, ‘You know, seeing those two gave me a start. Déjà vu, they call it, don’t they? I have seen two lads just like that once before – blond, tall, walking in step, all tall and lanky and pink skinned. Only that time they had just raided my neighbour’s house and set it on fire, and were walking away. I saw their square backs, their broad shoulders like that. They were wearing uniforms. They were hunting partisans’.
