A Solider In Florence

The solider began his post early in the morning and stood by the Duomo and its campanile until the sun was high in the sky. He stood with his rifle, kept guard over the city's greatest landmark, and was often bored. They told him it was a great honor, but all he did was point people towards the ticket office or pretend he didn't speak whatever language the tourists were using that day. Today it was Mandarin. He didn’t speak Mandarin anyway.

As he stood guard, he watched the horse riders who gave rides to the tourists feed their steeds and the painters and the souvenir merchants sell to the tourists and the tourists crane their necks and ignore all these people. He wished there were fewer tourists sometimes. Then maybe he wouldn't have to stand in front of this old church and look threatening. Maybe he could sleep in.

The soldier had never wanted to become a soldier. He had wanted to be a cook. Unfortunately, he wasn’t a good cook and there isn’t a lot of money for cooks who can’t cook. So, he joined the military. There he found he could shoot straight and could run fast and became a captain and then a major and then part of the honor guard in Florence. They say it is a great honor. The soldier thought it was stupid.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to protect the church. He thought it was a pretty good-looking church and would prefer it stuck around rather than being blown to bits. He just didn’t see how he was going to be of any help in preventing such an event. If someone wanted to blow up the Duomo, a couple of soldiers scanning a crowd of thousands probably weren't going to stop them. So, he stood there and looked pretty and pretended to be dangerous and did absolutely nothing all morning long.

The sweat forming on his forehead told the soldier that it was growing close to 11 in the morning. Florence was never hot until 11, at which point the sun is high enough to see the entire city and make bake everyone. Only an hour left. In the corner of his eye, he noticed a couple wearing University of Florence t-shirts, which meant they were tourists and pretended to not see them coming. He hoped they would get the message. They were American so they did not and walked right up to him.

“Scusi, sir,” said the man. “Do you know where we can find the nearest bathroom?”

It takes a lot of bravery or a lot of ignorance to approach a tall man in full camo and with an automatic weapon and ask about bathrooms. Americans were the worst because usually their bravery came from their ignorance, so they never knew which situations to be brave in and which situations not to be. And he talked loudly. Very loudly. The soldier did not want to give this couple directions and very much wanted to get back to standing alone and being bored. He tried his go-to strategy.

“Mi dispiace, Signor, non parlo Inglese.”

The Americans did not go away easily. He had a bushy mustache and a sweaty face. His wife was small and had a hat with a large brim that hid her face.

“Il bagno.” The American raised his voice as if the volume were the determining factor in getting his message across. He added some erratic gestures for good measure. “Dove… il bagno!”

The soldier thought about giving a straightforward answer so he could get on with it. The nearest bathroom was just around the corner, after all. But he was invested in this conversation now, so with a big smile and in the fastest Italian he could manage he responded, “Ah, certo, Signor, ci sono alcuni nella questo edificio sulla Via San Gallo, un nella questo negozio, an altro in il Duomo, ma dovete aspettare nel linea primo…” and rattled off several other options until the American's mustache began to twitch and his wife’s head bobbed. This type of Americans can’t handle that much information at once, let alone in a language they don’t understand. Realizing their mistake, the couple began to bow away.

“Uh, gracias…I mean grazie, Signor, we’ll be on our way…uh, ciao.”

The soldier waited until the couple was a few steps away and then called out to them, “Sure thing, buddy. You guys have a good rest of your day!” And then he settled back into his stance to watch the crowd. He was still bored but now he was bored with a smile.