La guerra dei poveri isn't, at least in parts--the diary of the partisan war, for example--the most page-turning book ever written. The politics governing the deployment of partisan bands in the mountains of southeastern France and northwestern Italy, one of the subjects of this book, might well strike you, at a distance of seventy-five years, as slightly confusing or uninteresting.
The first part of La guerra is the same as the book first published, much earlier, under the title Mai tardi. It's Revelli's intense account of his experience on the Eastern Front.
Mustering well to the rear in preparation for repatriation to Italy, Revelli and the few men who survived the fighting and the retreat from the Don receive a visit from a Fascist official. The official convened what in my high school would have been called a pep rally. At the rally, a despondent Revelli, in a remark that gives Mai tardi its title, says: "It's never too late to do you in." His ire, of course, was directed not at the Soviets he and his men had been sent to fight but at the distinguished visitor and the other Fascists, his fellow Italians, who had sent them there.
That part of the book makes rewarding reading and presents no particular difficulties.
The next part, Revelli's short diary from the time of his return from Russia to September 1943, when he took up arms again, this time in a partisan band, is a marvel of intensity and contained fury. Revelli is on convalescent leave for most or all of this period and not especially active. But the things he does--responding to a summons from an official of the local branch of the Fascist Party, calling on the mothers of companions-in-arms of his who had died or gone missing in the Soviet Union--are described with tremendous immediacy. Revelli's barely controlled wrath, his compassion, seem to be right there on the page.
The diary of the partisan war, as I suggested above, is less immediately accessible. It's more rewarding and more understandable on second reading. But even this part of the book has parts I very much enjoyed when I read it for the first time: Revelli's comments on the crazy Puerto Ricans of Flaut, a hamlet in the Alpes-Maritimes, for example, or his vivid account of the reconstructive surgeries he underwent in France after destroying his face in a motorcycle accident.
In short, La guerra dei poveri is a book that amply rewards the (slight) effort it takes to read it.