A wartime odyssey that began with an Italian soldier surrendering to Allied forces is ending 78 years later with his grandson’s epic bicycle trip is retracing his grandfather’s journey as a POW in America during World War II.

With apologies to Glen Campbell, by the time Andrea Franzoni gets to Phoenix, he won’t be sleeping, but will probably need rehydrating and some rest.

“I am doing this to honor my grandfather, who was a very good man,” Franzoni said, during a brief stop at the “Route 66 Classic Diner” in Santa Clarita, Calif.

Franzoni, a 32-year-old teacher who hails from near Lake Garda, Italy, has been cycling about 40 miles a day with some rest stops, on a 1,400-mile ride from Seattle to Phoenix. It’s a two-month adventure that will end at the site of the camp where his grandfather was introduced to America.

If Homer was Greek, Franzoni is working out a modern-day Italian version of the Odyssey.

The trip, which took him from Tehachapi through the Antelope Valley recently, is to retrace the journey of his grandfather, Aldo Arrighi, as a POW during World War II.

“It is a trip we always joked with each other about, that someday we would do it, but we could not,” Franzoni said while passing through Santa Clarita on his way to Palm Springs.

We met at the Route 66 Diner on Soledad Canyon Road, an appropriate roadside stop, with a road trip theme, a classic Corvette, and some motorcyclists from Veterans United MC taking refreshment.

“Honor to meet ya,” one of the bikers said, pumping the hand of the young cyclist whose trip can be tracked on Facebook and Instagram under the tagline “Train Long Gone — Tribute to Aldo Arrighi.”

A military spouse, Sue Miller of Santa Clarita, and Leslie Lenore Underwood of Lancaster, are tracking the journey online and encouraging support and recruiting hosts for the adventure. Franzoni has rarely stayed in hotels, has camped out, and been a household guest along the way.

Franzoni was delighted that one of his recent hosts showed him the Tehachapi Loop, that grand spiraling railroad passage that carries freight from the High Desert country of Southern California into the Central Valley, or the other direction toward San Bernardino and beyond.

The railroads of the West were part of the journey that began for his grandfather when masses of the Italian army surrendered to the Allies in North Africa in 1943.

The Italian fascist regime of dictator Benito Mussolini was tied to the fortunes of Nazi Germany. When the Americans and British beat them, more than 50,000 surrendered Italians were shipped as POWs to the United States, along with a couple hundred thousand Germans.

“My grandfather had no use for Mussolini,” Franzoni said. “He called him, ‘idiota,’ the idiot.”

Aldo Arrighi was captured by the British. His POW transport ship landed in Newport News, Va. The troop train carried him to Arizona, and a POW Camp dubbed Camp Florence. The fortunes of war shifted more than 45,000 of the captured Italians onto the Allied cause.

Arrighi was among the 90 percent of Italian POWs who ended up working in war support in America. From Camp Florence he was back on the train, this time to the cooler, damper climes of Seattle, at Fort Lawton.

“He was part of the ISU,” Franzoni said. “The Italian Service Units.”

The service units were Italians actually merged into military support service in America, working in agriculture, hospitals, docks, and industry. They wore Italian uniforms, with ISU badges. They also had an unusual degree of freedom. Arrighi even dated a daughter of Seattle, Eileen Larcher.

“He had a good experience,” his grandson said. “He even had a girlfriend that he dated, Eileen, and her family, they made him welcome.”

Amid 51,000 Italians taken prisoner during the war, in America, more than 90 percent of them volunteered for the ISU.

For Franzoni, his journey that began in August was a way to honor his grandfather’s memory, and to explore America, the good, and the warts, and all. He lamented the sight of homeless encampments on his route. He also worries about Europe, authoritarianism, and a new war in Europe that is devastating Ukraine.

“I am a social worker,” he said. And he teaches special needs children. Noting the devastation of Ukraine, Franzoni said, “War is never ‘surgical.’ We had our own destruction of Monte Cassino,” the historic mountaintop monastery destroyed during World War II.

Photographs of his grandfather during the war show that grandfather and grandson share a resemblance to each other across 80 years of war and peace.

“He would have been 100 this year,” Franzoni said. “This is my way to remember his legacy — to keep his story alive.”

“His is a story that is unique.” He described his grandfather’s American journey as “a good chapter of a war that was terribly bad.”

As with some of the Russians sent to Ukraine, his grandfather was a conscript, with no use for bullies. He was in Tunisia, unspooling telephone wire from a motorcycle when forces in North Africa overseen by Nazi General Erwin Rommel, the “Desert Fox,” were near collapse. The Anglo-American defeat of the Germans and Italians was decisive.

In 1943, Aldo Arrighi was on a troop transport ship carrying POWs, ironically, to a much greater place of safety than the war zone of North Africa and the Third Reich’s desert force, the Afrika Korps. America was better than war, much better.

A less than willing conscript of Italian dictator Benito Mussolini, Arrighi ended up contributing to the Allied war effort, helping to defeat fascism in Italy and the Nazis across Europe. Amid 51,000 Italians taken prisoner during the war, in America, more than 90 percent of them volunteered for a little-known organization called the Italian Service Units. They wore their Italian uniforms, but with identification badges, and worked in agriculture and war industries.

Ultimately, Arrighi worked in an Ordnance Depot in Tacoma, Wash. The Italian Service Unit volunteers were paid, had greater freedoms, and largely were made welcome by Americans.

One of Private Arrighi’s favorite sights in America, he told his grandson, was watching the grandeur of the snow-capped peak of Mount Rainier when he was working at Fort Lewis, Wash.

Franzoni has been cycling from the environs of Mount Rainier, Tacoma, Olympia, Wash., Eugene, Ore., Sacramento, Calif., and yes, Tehachapi, retracing the “Train Long Gone” route of his grandfather’s journey in America during Wolrd War II.

Before repatriation to Italy in 1946, Franzoni’s grandfather received a “Certificate of Service” attesting that he served in the 28th Italian Service Co. at the Mount Rainier Ordnance Depot in Tacoma. U.S. Army Col. M.D. Mills, commanding the depot, certified that Italian POW Arrighi’s service to the United States war effort was “exemplary.”

Aldo Arrighi returned to his hometown of Villanuova Sul Clisi to marry his sweetheart. They named their daughter Flora, in tribute to the good experience he had as a POW in Arizona at Camp Florence.

“Flora was my mother,” Franzoni said. “Fortunately, she still is!”

For much of the rest of his life, Franzoni’s grandfather was chairman of his town’s blood drive, Franzoni said. He managed the cinema, and worked as an electrician. Arrighi even christened his daughter with the name Flora, in honor of the POW camp where the Italians often marched off to work singing.

“He was a quiet man, my grandfather,” Franzoni said. “Not many words, but he totally meant what he said.”

As his grandson bicycles toward Phoenix, and the desert locale of the long vanished Camp Florence, he honors his grandfather’s “exemplary service” to humanity.