A monument to duty. Beyond it, the killing field and in the distance, Monte Trocchio. As sobering as this visit is, I must now prepare myself for our tour of the one of the most unspeakable horrors that mankind could inflict on itself: Cassino.
	The Benedictine Abbey at Monte Cassino, focus of the battle. Not a single living thing can pass down the Liri Valley without being observed from the series of hills upon which the Abbey stands. There was no "Plan B" as Italian topography provides no other route from Naples to Rome. Cassino had to be captured to open the road to Rome. From 24 January to 18 March 1944, 4 major battles were fought to accomplish this. The price of this real-estate in the Winter of 1944 was 55,000 Allied casualties.
	A heartfelt prayer from the Abbey which was itself one of the casualties. Numerous positions around the hill complex provide excellent observation posts, however the Allied Command was wrongly convinced that enemy fire was being directed from the Abbey windows. The Abbey was one of the few places that had the respect of the German Army and none of their soldiers used the building for any military purpose. German soldiers saved the Abbey's artistic treasures and brought them to Rome for safekeeping. None the less, on 15 February 1944, during the second battle, the order was given to bomb the Abbey. After the unnecessary bombing, the stones of the destroyed sanctuary made excellent defensive positions for the enemy and made much harder the task of capturing the site. Twenty-five years after the end of World War II, official Army histories were revised in admission of this blunder.
	The Abbey was rebuilt post-war. Here in the courtyard, Saint Benedict raises his hands skyward, I believe in forgiveness for the air attack on the shrine. At extreme left, one of the original battered columns melds with the reconstruction.
	The restored splendor of the Abbey interior.
	Doves nest in the Abbey walls, bringing visitors a message of peace from the animal world. How can one not be moved.