The Synagogue in central Florence, standing in its pretty gardens, all lit up like the Pontevecchio ( as they say here) had its usual pair of soldiers at the main gates inside their glass sentry-box as we walked home after dinner. There are always sentries at the Synagogue.
What made me jump was a whole patrol of troops rounding the corner of piazza d'Azeglio, carrying submachine guns - in Firenze per bene, patrolling the elegant streets and palazzi of the bourgeoisie.
This country is at war with barbarians.
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