2 The Du Duce
Come here. Yes, you. Come here. Now tell me something; which is my best profile, right or left? Really, do you think so? I am not so sure. I think that perhaps the lower lip has a better set on the other side. O, you agree do you? I suppose you agree with everything l Say? O, you do. Then how am I supposed to rely on your judgement? What if I say that France is made of Bakelite, is that true? Are you going to agree with me? What do you mean, yes sir, no sir, I don't know sir; what kind of answer is that? Are you a cretin or something? Go and fetch me some mirrors so that I can arrange to see for myself.
Yes, it is very important and also very natural that the people should perceive in me an apotheosis of the Italian ideal. You won't catch me being filmed in my underwear. You won't see me in a suit and tie anymore, for that matter. I am not going to be thought of as a businessman, a mere bureaucrat, and in any case this uniform becomes me. I am the embodiment of Italy, possibly even more than the King himself. This is Italy, smart and martial, where everything runs like clockwork. Italy as inflexible as steel. One of the Great Powers, now that I have made it so.
Ah, here are the mirrors. Put it down there. No, there, idiots. Yes, there. Now put the other one there. In the name of God, do I have to do everything myself? What's the matter with you, man? Hmm, I think I like the left profile. Tilt that mirror down a bit. More, more. Stop there. That's it. Wonderful. We must arrange it so that the people always see me from a lower position. I must always be higher than them. Send somebody round the city to find the best balconies. Make a note of it. Make a note of this, too, whilst I remember it. 'By order of the Duce, there is to be maximum afforestation of all the mountains in Italy. What do
you mean, what for? It's obvious isn't it? The more trees, the more snow, everyone knows that. Italy should be colder so that the men it breeds are tougher, more resourceful, more resilient. It's a sad truth, but it's true nonetheless, our youngsters don't make the soldiers that their fathers did. They need to be colder, like the Germans. Ice in the soul, that's what we need.
I swear the country's got warmer since the Great War. It makes men lazy, it makes them incompetent. It unsuits them to empire. It turns life into a siesta. They don't call me the Unsleeping Dictator for nothing, you don't catch me asleep all afternoon. Make a note. This will be a new slogan for us: `Libro e Moschetto - Fascisto Perfetto'. I want people to understand that Fascism is not merely a social and political revolution, it's cultural as well. Every Fascist must have a book in their knapsack, do you understand? We are not going to be philistines. I want Fascist book clubs even in the smallest towns, and I don't want the damned squadristi turning up and setting them on fire, is that clear? And what's this I hear about a regiment of Alpini marching through Verona singing `Vogliamo la pace a non vogliamo la guerra'? I want it investigated. I won't have elite troops marching around singing pacifist-defeatist songs when we aren't even properly at war yet. And talking of Alpini, what's this about them getting in fistfights with the Fascist legionnaires? What else have I got to do to make the military accept the militia? How about this for another slogan; `War is to Man what Motherhood is to Woman'? Very good, I think you'll agree. A fine slogan with a lot of virility to it, much better than `Church, Kitchen and Children' any day of the week. Call Clara and tell her I'll be coming tonight if I can get away from my wife. How's this for another slogan: `With Daring Prudence'? Are you sure? I don't remember Benni using it in a speech. Must have been years ago. Perhaps it's not so good.
Make a note of this. I want it made absolutely clear to our people in Africa that the practice of so-called `madamismo' has to end. I really cannot countenance the idea of men of Italy setting up house with native women and diluting the purity of the blood. No, I don't care about native prostitutes. The sciarmute are indispensable to the morale of our men over there. I just won't have love affairs, that's all. What do you mean, Rome was assimilationist? I know that, and I know we're reconstructing the empire, but these are different times. These are Fascist times.
And talking of wogs, have you seen my copy of that pamphlet 'Partito a Impero'? I like that bit where it says `In short, we must try to give the Italian people an imperialist and racist mentality'. Ah yes, the Jews. Well I think it's been
made perfectly clear that Jewish Italians have to deride whether they are Italians first or Jews. It's as simple as that. It hasn't escaped my notice that international Jewry is antiFascist. I'm not stupid. I know perfectly well that the Zionists are the tools of British foreign policy. As far as I am concerned we must enforce these employment quotas on Jews in public office; I will not tolerate any disproportion and I don't care if it means that some towns end up with no mayor. We must keep in step with our German comrades. Yes, I know the Pope doesn't like it, but he has too much to lose to stick his neck out. He knows I can repeal the Lateran pacts. I've got a trident up his backside and he knows I can twist it. I gave up atheist materialism for the sake of peace with the Church, and I'm not going any further.
Make a note; I want a salary freeze to keep inflation under control. Increase family subsidies by fifty percent. No I don't think the latter will cancel out the effects of the former. Do you think I don't understand economics? How many times do I have to explain, you dolt, that Fascist economics are immune from the cyclic disturbances of capitalism? How dare you contradict me and say it appears that the opposite is true? Why do you think we've been going for autarky all these years? We've had some teething problems, that's all, you zuccone, you scioao, you balordo.
Send Farinacci a telegram saying that I'm sorry he's lost a hand, but what else do you expect when you go fishing with hand-grenades? Tell the press it was because of something heroic. We'll have an article about it in Il Regime Fascista on Monday. Something like `Party Boss Injured in Valiant Action Against Ethiopians'.
Which reminds me, how are the experiments with poison gas going? The ones against the wog guerrillas? I hope the rifiuto die slowly that's all. Maximum agony. Pour encourager les autres. Shall we invade France? How about `Fascism Transcends Class Antagonisms'? Is Ciano here yet? I've been getting reports from all over the country that the mood is overwhelmingly anti-war. I can't understand it. Industrialists, bourgeoisie, working classes, even the Army, for God's sake. Yes, I know there's a deputation of artists and intellectuals waiting. What? They're going to present me with an award? Send them straight in.
Good evening, gentlemen. I must say that it is a great pleasure to receive this from some of our, ah, greatest minds. I shall wear it with pride. How is your new novel going? Ah, I'm sorry, I quite forgot. Of course you are a sculptor. A slip of
the tongue. A new statue of me? Splendid. Milan needs some monuments, does it not? Let me remind you, although I am sure you have no need of it, that Fascism is fundamentally and at bottom an aesthetic conception, and that it is your function as creators of beautiful things to portray with the greatest efficacy the sublime beauty and inevitable reality of the Fascist ideal. Never forget; if the Armed Forces are the balls of Fascism, and I am its brains, you are its imagination. You have a heavy responsibility. Now if you'll excuse me, gentlemen, affairs of state, you know how it is. I have an audience with His Majesty the King. Yes, indeed, I shall convey your profoundest sentiments of loyalty. He would expect no less. Good evening.
That's got rid of them. Isn't this pretty? I might give it to Clara. She is bound to find it amusing. Ah, Ciano is coming is he? About time too. Been hacking his way round a golf-course, no doubt. Damn stupid game, in my opinion. I could understand it if one was trying to hit rabbits or intercept the odd partridge. You can't eat a Wok-in-one, can you? You can't draw the entrails of a good putt: Ah, Galeazzo, how good to see you. Do come in. Bene, bene. And how is my dear daughter? How wonderful it is to keep government in the family, so to speak. So good to have someone one can trust. Been playing golf? I thought so. Wonderful game, so fascinating, such a challenge, as much intellectual as physical, I understand. I wish I had time for it myself. One feels so much at sea when talk turns to mashie-niblicks, cleeks, and mid-irons. Quite an Eleusinian mystery. I said `Eleusinian'. O never mind. What a splendid suit. Such a good cut. And such distinguished shoes too. They're called `George boots'? I wonder why. Not English are they? Give me an honest military jackboot, Galeazzo; I can't compete with you in elegance, I'll be the first to admit. I'm just a man of the soil, and that's the best thing to be when the soil happens to be Italian, don't you agree? Now look, we've got to sort out this Greek business once and for all. I think we're agreed that after all our accomplishments we need a new direction. Think of it, Galeazzo; when I was a journalist Italy had no empire to speak of. Now that I am the Duce we do have one. It's a great and lasting legacy, of that there can be no doubt. There is more acclaim for a symphony than for a quartet. But can we stop at Africa and a few islands that no one's ever heard of? Can we rest on our laurels when all about us we see divisions within the party and find that we seem to have no central thrust to our policy? We need dynamite up the arsehole of the nation, do we not? We need a great and unifying enterprise. We need an enemy, and we need to maintain the imperial momentum. This is why I return to the subject of the Greeks.
I've been looking through the records. In the first place we have an historic blot to expunge, an outstanding account. I'm referring to the Tellini incident of 1923,
as you no doubt realise. Incidentally, my dear Count, I have been becoming increasingly aware that you have been making foreign policy independently of me, and that consequently we have often found ourselves pulling in different directions at once. No, do not protect, I merely mention this as an unfortunate fan. Our ambassador in Athens is very confused, and perhaps it has been in our interest that he should remain so. I don't want Grazzi dropping hints to Metaxas, and it suits us that they should remain friends. No damage has been done; we've taken Albania and I have written to Metaxas to reassure him and in commend his treatment of King Zog, and everything is going very well.
Yes, I am aware that the British have contacted Metaxas to say that they will help defend Greece in the event of an invasion. Yes I know Hitler wants Greece in the Axis, but let's face it, what kind of debt do we owe to Hitler? He stirs up all of Europe, there seems no limit to his greed and irresponsibility, and to cap it all he takes die Romanian oilfields without allowing us any slice of the cake at all. The cheek of it. Who does he think he is? I fear, Galeazzo, that we must base our actions upon a calculation as to which way the dice are falling, and I have to say that it is obvious that Hitler is getting all the sixes. Either we join with him and divide the spoils or else we risk an invasion from Austria as soon as the little man sees fit. It is a question of grasping opportunities and evading perils. It is also a question of expanding the empire. We must continue to stir up liberation movements in Kosovo and irredentism in Tsamouria. We get Yugoslavia and Greece. Imagine it, Galeazzo, the whole Mediterranean littoral rebuilt into a new Roman Empire. We've got Libya, and it's just a question of joining the dots. We've got to do this without telling Hitler; I happen to know that the Greeks have been seeking his assurances. Imagine the impression on the Fuhrer when he sees us sweep through Greece in a matter of days. It'll make him think twice, that's for sure. Imagine yourself at the head of a Fascist legion as you enter Athens on the turret of a tank. Imagine our colours fluttering on the Parthenon.
Do you remember the Guzzoni plan? Eighteen divisions and a year to prepare? And then I said, `Greece does not tie on our path, and we want nothing from her,' and then I said to Guzzoni, `The war with Greece is off. Greece is a bare bone, and is not worth the life of a single Sardinian grenadier'? Well, circumstances have changed, Galeazzo. I said that because I wanted Yugoslavia. But why not take both? Who says that we'll need a year to prepare? Some stupid old general with old-fashioned ways, that's who. We could do it in a week with one cohort of legionnaires. There are no soldiers in the world as resolute and valiant as ours.
And the British are provoking us. I'm not talking about De Vecchi's ravings. That reminds me. De Vecchi told you that the British attacked a submarine at Levkas, two more at Zante, and established a base at Milos. I've had a report from Captain Moris that none of this ever happened. You really must remember that De Vecchi is a lunatic and a megalomaniac, and one day when I remember to do so, I will string him up by his copious moustache and remove his testicles without anaesthetic. Thank God he's in the Aegean and not here or I would be up to my neck in bullshit. The man turns the Aegean brown.
But the British have sunk the Colleoni, and the Greeks flagrantly allow British ships to take port. What do you mean, we accidentally bombed a Greek supply ship and a destroyer? Accidentally? Never mind, it'll be fewer ships to sink later. Grazzi says there are no British bases at all in Greece, but we'll let that pass, shall we? There's no harm in saying that there are. The important thing is that we've got Metaxas shitting himself. I hope I can place credence in this report of yours that the Greek generals are with us; if that's true, how come they've arrested Plans? And where has all the money gone that was supposed to bribe the officials? It amounts to millions, precious millions that would have been better spent on rifles. And are you sure that the population of Epirus really wants to be Albanian? How do you know? Ah, I see, Intelligence. I have decided, by the way, not to ask the Bulgarians if they want to invade at the same time. Of course it would make it easier for us, but it's going to be a walkover anyway, and if the Bulgarians get their corridor to the sea it's only going to sever our own lines of supply and communication, don't you think? We don't in any case want them basking in glory that is property our own.
Now, I want you to arrange some attacks against ourselves. Our campaign requires legitimacy for reasons of international polity. No, it's not the Americans I'm worried about; America has no military importance. But remember, we want to invade when we want to invade; I don't want any single colossal cases belli that commits us before we are ready. Avann piano, quasi indietro. I think we should select an Albanian patriot for assassination, so that we can blame it on the Greeks, and I think we should sink a Greek battleship in such a way that it's obvious that we did it, but not so obvious that we can't blame it on the British. It's a question of judicious intimidation that will weaken the Greek will.
By the way, Galeazzo, I've decided that just before the invasion we'll demobilise the Army. What do you mean, it sounds perverse? It's a question of causing the Greeks to lower their guard, getting the harvest in, and maintaining the appearance of normalisation. Think about it, Galeazzo; think what an acute move
it would be. The Greeks heave a sigh of relief, and we flatten them promptly with a hammerblow.
I've been speaking to the Chiefs-of-Staff, my dear Count, and I've asked for plans to be drawn up for the invasion of Corsica, France, and the Ionian islands, and for new campaigns in Tunisia. I'm sure we can manage it. They keep moaning about the lack of transport, and so. I've given orders that the infantry should be trained in match fifty mike a day. There is a small problem with the Air Force. It's all in Belgium, so I suppose I must do something about that one of these days. Keep reminding me. I must talk to Pricolo about it; I can't have die chief of the Air Force being the only one who doesn't know what's happening. There are limits even to military secrecy. The Chiefs-of-Staff oppose me, Galeazzo. Badoglio, keeps looking at me as though I were mad. One day he's going to look Nemesis in the face and find that the face is mine. I won't have it. I think we should take Crete too, and deny it to the British.
Jacomoni has telegraphed me to the effect that we can expect extensive treachery within the Greek ranks, that the Greeks hate Metaxas and the King, are very depressed, and that they are contemplating the abandonment of Tsamouria. God is with us, it seems. Something's got to be done about the fact that both His Majesty and myself are the First Marshal of the kingdom; one -really cannot exist amid such anomalies. Prasca, incidentally, has telegraphed me to say that he requires no reinforcements for the invasion, so how come everybody has been telling me that we can't possibly do it without them? It's gutlessness, that's what. There's no expert so deluded as a military expert, in my experience. I have to do their job for them, it seems. I get nothing but complaints about the shortage of everything. Why have all the contingency funds gone missing? I want it investigated.
Let me remind you, Galeazzo, that Hitler is opposed to this war because Greece is a totalitarian state that should naturally be on our side. So don't tell him. We're going to show him an example of Blitzkrieg that'll make him green with envy. And I don't care if it brings the British in against us. We'll thrash them too.
WHO LET THAT CAT IN HERE? SINCE WHEN HAVE WE HAD A PALACE CAT? IS THAT THE CAT THAT SHAT IN MY HELMET? YOU KNOW I CAN'T STAND CATS. WHAT DO YOU MEAN, IT SAVES ON MOUSETRAPS? DON'T TELL ME WHEN I CAN OR CANNOT USE MY REVOLVER INDOORS. STAND BACK OR YOU'LL CATCH A BULLET TOO. O God, I feel sick. I'm a
sensitive man, Galeazzo, I have an artistic temperament, I shouldn't have to look at all this blood and mess. Get someone to clear it up, I don't feel well. What do you mean it's not dead yet? Take it out and wring its neck. NO I DON'T WANT TO DO IT MYSELF. Do you think I'm a barbarian or something? O God. Give me my helmet, quick, I need something to be sick in.
Get rid of this and get me a new helmet. I'm going to go and lie down, it must be way past siesta-time.