Look around the hillsides, through the mist and rain,
See the scattered crosses, some that bear no name.
Heartbreak and toil and suffering gone,
The lads beneath, they slumber on.
They are the D-Day Dodgers, who'll stay in Italy.

from the song "The D-Day Dodgers"

Minturno War Cemetery Minturno, Italy

The Minturno War Cemetery is maintained by the Commonwealth Graves Commission. It is one of 50 in Italy and there are over 2000 Commonwealth soldiers buried here.

It was a lovely warm morning in April when we stepped off the train at the Minturno Scauri station. Having only instructions on how to get to the cemetery by car, I hired a taxi to take me there. The driver let us off at the gate and indicated that he would wait for us there. A fairly long walk lined with trees led us to the memorial which is in the centre of the cemetery.

Minturno War Cemetery Minturno, Italy

The cemetery is divided into eight sections, four on each side of the memorial.

Graves in Minturno War Cemetery Minturno, Italy

My reason for visiting this cemetery was to find the grave of one of Doug's best friends, Irvin Schriver, who was killed during the Battle of the Hitler Line. Doug often spoke of the day of his death, and still grieved for this friend of so long ago. Doug agreed to make a trip to Italy in the spring of 1999, if we could find Irve's grave. After Doug's death, I postponed the trip for a year, and decided that one of the first items on my agenda would be to do this for Doug.

        Thanks to the Commonwealth Graves Association online and the Secretary General in Ottawa, I learned that he is buried in Minturno, about 50 miles north of Naples.

Irvin Schriver Minturno War Cemetery, Italy

Commemoration

The young dead soldiers do not speak.
Nevertheless they are heard in the still houses.
(Who has not heard them?)

They say,
We were young.
We have died. Remember us.

They say,
We have done what we could,
But until it is finished it is not done.

They say,
We have given our lives,
But until it is finished
No one can know what our lives gave.

They say,
Our deaths are not ours,
They are yours,
They will mean what you make them.

They say,
Whether our lives, and our deaths
were for peace
and a new hope
Or for nothing
We cannot say.
It is you who must say this.

They say,
We leave you our deaths,
Give them their meaning.

Archibald McLeish


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