After having crossed the door of the prison that Lamberto called << college of Piazza Partigiani >>, his personal details were taken, his fingerprints were taken, everything he had in his pockets was removed, his belt and shoelaces were removed. While awaiting questioning, he was placed in a small cell with other inmates. A few days later he began his tiring interrogation. For a few hours he was asked the same question very firmly and harshly, always in the hope of making him fall into contradiction. So much was the mental fatigue and tension that from the high shoulders  sweat was coming out of his coat. At the end of the long interrogation a graduate entered who abruptly asked Lamberto for his personal details. << I'm Lamberto Beatini, son of Antonio and Anna Gregori >>. At this name the Captain stood up and after a loud blasphemy he said \ u0026lt; \ u0026lt; Are you Anna's son? Do you know your mom is my milk sister? but what did you make me do ... >>. But by now Lamberto was in prison, the gear had been set in motion and the superior was also a prisoner of certain laws. For two or three days Lamberto was fasting because the food of the "college" just looking at him made his stomach sick. On the third day, hunger prevailed and he managed to eat a soup where bits of cabbage leaves floated among a few stars of fat. A  once he removed 17 flies from the broth before eating it.

" In his cell they put a man from Torgiano accused of insulting the fascist party. While he was reading a manifesto of the regime signed by the notorious Rocchi, he voluntarily made a huge burp. It happened that at that moment a fanatic fascist hierarch passed by who, taking the poor man for the collar of his jacket, scrambled him and denounced him.The man was tried and sentenced to a prison sentence.The unfortunate fell into a bad depression could not eat.

Not far from Lamberto's cell, on the so-called death row, there was a convict. Nobody knew the reason for the sentence, but everyone thought it was for political reasons. The guards said that the young man knew he was going to die and every time they opened his cell, the young man changed. His body tensed and his complexion turned yellow, as if his blood stopped. This swing of very strong emotions made him lose all hair and hair. Once Lamberto saw him pass between two agents and I am impressed by his thin head, smooth, shiny as a billiard ball, by his thin and blood lips and by two black eyes without lashes and eyebrows that seem to come out of their sockets. That night Lamberto did not sleep  because he always had before him the hallucinating visions of this young man. Fortunately, the war ended and the poor fellow was released from prison. Every time he recounted this episode on Lamberto's face one could read the suffering and also the anger at the bestiality of war and dictatorship. A different fate touches another young anti-fascist who was shot a few days before the liberation. This was Mario Bricchi, whose sister Gloria was a high school companion of Maria Teresa Beatini, nephew of Lamberto. "

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Isotta tells that Lamberto used to tell ...  "When my daughter Anna asked me what was the best day of your life I replied: the day I got out of prison. Anna was upset because she knows how much I wanted it, the great love I feel for her. But Anna is a joy that I have tasted minute by minute since I learned it existed, for eight months  he was the center of my thoughts, so his birth was a long and beautiful wait. My release was, however, the end of a great nightmare of which I was not sure I could get out alive. Often when i  my companions slept, I too closed my eyes and began to dream. I dreamed of my future  beautiful, serene, bright, full of girls and love; instead I opened my eyes and saw darkness, not a glimmer of light. Hope alternated with despair and resignation.

A whirlwind of emotions me  it invaded continuously. Being imprisoned at twenty for your ideas that you find human right, being imprisoned because you refuse war, weapons, violence, oppression, injustices is something that causes you pain and a lot of anger. I remember, still with sorrow and sadness, long afternoons in April and May, when behind the bars I glimpsed trees with their new leaves, when the spring air full of perfumes entered the cell, when you could hear the loving calls of birds and the voices playful of children playing in the street. It was the time of memories, of nostalgia, of sadness. Then I would lie down on my "straw mattress" and think of my family and my friends who free, they could be among themselves, be with their girlfriends, have lunch and dinner with their loved ones, look and touch the spring. Certain sensations, both good and bad, cannot be told, but must be lived to know what one feels and to be innocent in prison, at twenty years old, when someone like me who loves life, light, the heat of the sun, colors, people, freedom, love, is a condition that I do not wish on anyone. "...

Isotta continues: "On June 13, 1944, the day of St. Anthony, the prison door opened for Lamberto and his friend Antonelli. Outside the prison door two stopped, looked  360 degrees and took a long sigh of relief. They were free together and began a journey that would bring them home. Passing by chance they arrived at Ponte Felcino in Ponte Valleceppi where grandmother Clorinda lived. They all presented themselves happy about his house, but immediately they cooled down because some German soldiers found him in the house. The moment was embarrassing, but grandmother Clorinda understood the situation and speaking and  gesticulating he made the Germans understand that two of them were mentally ill. Which was not difficult because Lamberto, due to the absence of movement, was so swollen that it seemed swollen. He wore trousers that reached the calf of his legs, wore two shoes without very broken laces, the jacket covered the back and a little of the front, the sleeves reached just below the elbow. On the contrary Antonelli, also tall, was dry, lanky, frightened, I looked like a dead man walking. The fact is that the Germans, as if frightened, said goodbye and left. Grandmother Clorinda then greeted them with great warmth, kissing and hugging them, then, quickly, quickly, she began to cook. After being  refreshed, they set out along the railway in the direction of  Umbertide. In Ponte Pattoli  They separated. Antonelli headed for Santa Cristina where he would find his family displaced by relatives, Lamberto continued in the direction of Umbertide. The road was very long, the boots became heavier and heavier, the damaged and swollen feet no longer fit inside the shoes and began to bleed; finally he arrived in Montecorona and felt relieved, in sight of the town he thought  to the meeting that his loved ones. He headed for the house of "Guardengolo", a farmer who gave hospitality to his family and that of his brother Pietro. Meanwhile, from the loggia of the farmhouse, mother Anna and Pietro's wife Marietta saw at the end of the road a big fat man walking with difficulty. The two women, a little frightened because they were alone, wondered who he was and what he wanted. As Lamberto approached he made signs of greeting  with his arms but the two women remained impassive. Only a few meters away did they recognize him. The mother Anna started running crying with joy and hugged her son in an embrace that never seemed to end. "

On 23 July 1944 Lamberto, together with 21 other people from Umberto I, gave life to the Local Committee for National Liberation in the hall of the municipal council. After the war Lamberto yes  he adapted to do many small jobs: it was important and necessary to bring something home because it was needed. He worked for the Land Registry, for the Municipality, then he began to study for the master's degree competition which he passed brilliantly. He taught  in Colmotino di Cascia, in Reschio, in Civitella Ranieri, ad  Umbertide ... then dissatisfied with the teaching he began  to work in the secretariat of the elementary school, a job that he did with seriousness, commitment and great competence until 1979. We report here the letter of greeting from Director Candido Palazzetti when Lamberto left school.

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