Sardinia flood elicits 'Apocalyptic' memory
I have just read "'Apocalyptic' storm floods Sardinia." It brought memories of such a storm while I was stationed on Corsica in October 1944.
I had crossed the Atlantic and sailed the Mediterranean to Naples, Italy. After marching the road north to Caserta, I was tented there for further orders. Shortly, I was flown to Corsica and tented there on a slope at the base of a steep mountain, many of which were part of Corsica.
The weather was Mediterranean or Southern California: sun and blue skies day after day. But there was an interruption in the glorious days of gold and blue.
The report on the storm that inundated Sardinia stated that it rained 17.3 inches in 24 hours, devastating the island. It is difficult to comprehend such a storm in the Mediterranean. It is placid and blue, with white crests from a mild breeze month after month. I have swum in it many times and lounged on it beaches.
But, one day in late October, suddenly the sky darkened, the winds whipped and the rain came in torrents. Not for minutes but for hours. I began to see water come into my tent like a creek. I put all my belongings on my bunk and got on the bunk and watched and listened. The creek of water through my tent heightened and the torrents of water presaged apocalypse, even though then I didn't know the meaning of the word.
The aftermath was terrible. The road to my tent was obstructed by the fuselage of a B-24 Liberator bomber, carried by water I knew not from where. And the eroded earth that filled the road was dotted with garden vegetables. I remember the orange of carrots.
But I had nothing to lose except my barracks bag, and it was dry on the bunk. I had read about cloudbursts, but this was certainly just that: a cloud burst.
A month or so later, I was flown to Algiers, Algeria. The plane flew over Sardinia. It was a beautiful, more or less, level land with a manicured look. I feel for the Sardinians.
Out-of-state company ready to steal from us