Vito: Operation Husky: I was assigned to the 504th Parachute Infantry. I was eighteen and anything seems better than jail. America was at war end the Army was lookin’ for guys who spoke the language to help with the invasion of Sicily. Vito: Well, that one time it didn’t work out so good. Policeman: Stop or I’ll shoot! OK, ye bastard, spread yer legs and put your hands on the fence! And since we both poor, and there were wasn’t much work around, we started a little business of our own… Vito: Over time, Joe and I got to be best friends. I had to learn English, and I sure as hell wasn’t gonna do that in a neighbourhood full of italians. It was back-breaking work, and what little money he made mostly went towards booze. My father started working at the part for the guy who arranged our emigration. "The American Dream." It was more like a nightmare. On the other hand, I’d never seen anything filthier or more disgusting than our new shithole of an apartment. Never in my life had I seen anything as fantastic as Empire Bay. Across the ocean to start a new life in America. And then one day, my father decided it was time to move away. I don’t really remember too much about the old country… except that we were pretty hard up. I’m standing there with my parents and my sister Francesca in front of our old house. He sits at a table in a dark room, smoking and looking at old photos.
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