Even though I was born in the early '60s, I was brought up in a World War II household. My dad was an 18-year-old sergeant in the U.S. Army fighting Hitler's brigade in Anzio, Rome and Southern France. My mom was born in Florence, Italy, and watched American tanks roll by her house on a daily basis.

By the time I came along 21 later, the war stories at the kitchen table were shared regularly, often ending in an argument about Mussolini pre Hitler vs. Mussolini post Hitler. It was a complicated battle that my younger sister, brother and I didn't really understand until we were much older.

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Fonte: Fra Noi