This is quite possibly the best book about World War II AND the best book about Italy you’re likely to find… Full of striking telling detail from the opening confusion of the Allied invasion on the beaches of Salerno (the author, a young British intelligence officer posted to Italy behind his knowledge of Spanish, finds himself under fire in a wilderness of typewriters and other randomly strewn office equipment) to the improbable eruption of Vesuvius (and the Neapolitans’ belief, amply demonstrated by historical prededent, that otherwise inexorable flows of lava could be stopped by the relics of Catholic saints)… Lewis is a master observer of the particular and this book, written after a mid-1950s perusal of his old wartime notebooks following publication of half a dozen other volumes, shows off his unmatched gift for quiet understatement. The residents of Naples were reduced to medieval conditions of famine and hygiene and were heartily sick of the war in 1944, prostitution was rampant with young girls often the only employables in a family, electric lines and even manholes were plundered for their scrap value. A clandestine mail service between Naples and still-Nazi-occupied Rome was a particular vexation to Lewis and his intelligence collegues, especially as some of Naples’ most prominent citizens (including a midget gynecologist who was able to use both hands for non-incision internal surgery, and who specialized in restoration of virginity), were among the amateur postmen. The doings of Lucky Luciano and other characters on the late-WWII scene in Italy, and the incredible bungling and callousness of the occupation authorities are ably chronicled. Don’t miss this one.