The summer sun, climbing toward warm noon, had started the heat waves dancing from the brown Tiber, from the seven ancient hills, from the great stone piazza before St. Peter's, from the dusty brick and weathered marble of the Colosseum and the Forum. Now out of that sun came the sound and the sight Rome had long been spared: the drone of a hostile air fleet, the wings of hostile bombers.
Perhaps three million stunned people, jampacked in a city that normally houses about 1,000,000, scanned the sky or scurried to the shelters...
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