PRISONERS OF WAR
and
THE CAMPS
and
THE CAMPS
On Land - North Africa
Rigel Ridge
53522 Gunner Graham B Tennant 6th Battery, 2nd Field Regiment, Natal Field Artillery was captured on 13 June 1942 at Rigel Ridge. When the Natal Field Artillery was called up for the 2nd World War, they went 'Up North' divided between the Second Field and the Second Light Brigades. When the 8 Gun Battery Organisation was introduced there was a partial amalgamation and the Unit became known as 2nd Field Regiment (NFA) SAA, consisting of RHQ, 4th ,5th and 6th Batteries. After undergoing training in desert warfare the Regiment moved with the rest of 2 South African Division and on arrival in Egypt was issued with new 25 Pounder QF guns. The men were engaged in digging defences at El Alamein, some of which would be used in the battle some 12 months later. In the run -up to the fall of Tobruk 6th Battery was engaged in heavy fighting from the 26th May to the 13th June 1942, when it was given the task of covering the withdrawal of the Guards Brigade from Rigel Ridge, 42 km south of the city. The Royal Artillery Commemoration Book describes this as the most glorious action fought by South African Artillery during the War:
'On the 13th [June 1942] the Scots Guards on Rigel Ridge were attacked and overrun by a large force of enemy tanks. The 6th Battery, two troops of which were 800 yards [875m] below the ridge (and north of it) and 600 yards [656m] apart, was at gunfire under the directions of the troop commanders until the ridge was lost. The battery commander then decided it was his duty to stay and fight it out and so delay the enemy as long as possible. The troop commanders hastened to the gun positions and all guns were commanded individually and engaged the enemy on open sights. The enemy tanks lay hull-down on the ridge with 50mm anti-tank guns on the ground between them, Supported by field guns, they maintained a devastating fire including armour-piercing machine gun fire on 6th Battery. Tanks moved round until the Troop were being attacked from the front and rear. Nevertheless the fight was maintained until all eight guns had been put out of action by enemy fire. About half the gun detachments were killed and wounded, including the battery commander and most of the officers. The last gun in action was manned by Lieutenant Ashley and one signaller until this gun too was knocked out. When the battery had been silenced, the enemy tanks approached cautiously and the battery personnel were made prisoners.' The Natal Field Artillery was captured and virtually ceased to exist until after the War. (http://www.southafricanmilitaryhistory.org)
Gunner Tennant was shipped from Tripoli to Naples on the Col di Lana on 7 December and sent to PG 66 Capua along with colleague 53490 Gunner Arthur Joscelyne. He escaped from campo P.G.54 on 11 September 1943 together the other internees and remained at large until 22 January 1944 when he was recaptured. He and Gunner Joscelyne were put on the train, but whereas Gunner Jocelyne was seriously injured, suffering from a fractured upper leg and head wounds, Gunner Tennant was uninjured.
Tobruk and Mersa Matruh
Corporal Bill Marsh, Corporal Leonong Matlakala and Sergeant Robert J. Maddern were amongst those captured at Tobruk. At the beginning of World War 2, the city of Tobruk, situated in the Italian colony of Libya, became the site of important battles between the Allies and the Axis Powers. Tobruk was strategically important to the conquest of Eastern Libya, at that time known as the Province of Cyrenaica.
In early September 1940 Italian forces invaded Egypt, at that time a British Protectorate, but halted their advance after a week and dug in at Sidi Barani. In early December, 7 Armoured Division and 4 Indian Division launched a counter-strike code named Operation Compass. The Italians were forced to surrender and they retreated to El Agheila. Tobruk was captured by British, Australian and Indian forces on 22 January 1941.
In response Italy sent several more division to Libya, and also called on her German ally for help. The Germans replied by sending the Deutches Afrika Korps (DAK) to Libya. These forces, under Lieutenant-General Erwin Rommel, drove the Allies back across Cyrenaica to the Egyptian border, leaving Tobruk isolated and under siege. The defenders of the fortress consisted of 9 Australian Division, 18 Australian Brigade and some British tanks and artillery. They were later reinforced and replaced by 70 British Infantry Division, the Polish Independent Carpathian Rifle Brigade, a Czechoslovakian unit and a British tank brigade. The siege lasted until December, when Operation Crusader pushed both the Deutches Afrika Korps and the Italians back out of Cyrenaica. Rommel's second offensive took place in May and June 1942. Tobruk was taken in a surprise attack on 21 June. Here is an account taken from the official history of 1 Battalion South Wales Borderers:
The battalion...occupied defensive positions at Bel Hamed near Tobruk, forming a 'box' with other members of 20th Indian Brigade. The British forces were now in full retreat and orders were given that this 'box' was to be held to the last man. Accordingly, the battalion laid in stocks, sent back its transport and prepared for a siege. But the very next evening, 17th June, it was suddenly ordered to withdraw 70 miles to the east. There was no transport and no time even to destroy supplies, the intelligence officer sent to reconnoitre the route and meet the transport was captured by a German patrol so the battalion withdrew over unknown country leaving behind a small rearguard under Major C.P.G de Winton and Lt. T.M. Stephens. This rearguard, for which no transport could be made available, was composed entirely of volunteers. They knew, before volunteering, that their only future was death or capture.
The rest of the battalion marched back to their transport then set off in a convoy for Sollum, but they found the enemy had outflanked them and now lay in considerable strength with many tanks across the road. The Commanding Officer, Lieutenant-Colonel F.R.G. Matthews decided to try to outflank the enemy by driving south and cast into the desert. In the confusion, contact could not be made with all vehicles, but most of them started off on a disastrous journey in which they had to run the gauntlet of enemy tanks and shells. Many vehicles were lost or hit and only a few trucks kept with the Commanding Officer and finally reached Sollum, after seven hours driving behind the German forward troops. A few others found their way through separately but the battalion lost more than five hundred officers and men, most of whom were taken prisoner. Four officers and about a hundred men reorganised in Sollum where they were joined by reinforcements. The retreat continued by night along choked roads enlivened by enemy bombing. The battalion passed through El Alamein, where the Germans were eventually halted, through Cairo and back to a rest area where a draft brought the numbers up to 15 officers and 300 men.
3908767 Corporal Bill Marsh 1 South Wales Borderers
Prior to arriving in North Africa he had been on duty on the North West Frontier, at Cawnpore and in Iraq:
After staying awhile in Iraq we moved up through El Alamein, Mersa Matruh and so on until we reached Gambut Aerodrome which is roughly fifteen to twenty miles outside Tobruk...This was early 1942 and by June 16th 1942 the Germans and Italians had started to encircle us, leaving only the Mediterranean as a way out.
It was around six o'clock one evening when all senior NCOs were sent for - including me of course, being one of them. We were told of the situation. It appeared that we were almost encircled, so had to prepare to withdraw some 12 to 14 miles back to another position.
I was in command of two anti-tank guns. We were told to travel as light as possible, which meant burying half of our ammunition and destroying all reserve food and water. Around midnight we started making our withdrawal but came to a halt at dawn next morning, 17 June. Here we were told that we were now totally surrounded by the enemy and were completely cut off. We were told to destroy all arms and all vehicles unless you wished to have a go at breaking through enemy lines. The message given was: 'Everyone for himself'. After destroying the guns in my command and the two vehicles our section split up. Our troops were scattered all over the place, wondering where to go and in which direction, and we were being attacked by enemy planes.
I and two Privates started to walk back, keeping as close as possible to the Mediterranean. Luck was not with us, for the next day, 18 June, we were seen by the enemy, who were watching the coast, and we were captured. We were now in enemy hands, the same as thousands of others.
On their website 9 Durham Light Infantry (7 Armoured Division) describe what happened at Mersa Matruh some nine days later:
The morning of 27 June 1942 9 DLI were some 15 miles south of Garawla at a place called Raqabet El Sikka. 151 Brigade, of which 9 DLI were part, had the job of protecting part of the Mersa defences so the town of Mersa Matruh was not cut (off). Rommel's armoured columns swept around Matruh and cut off 10 Indian Division and 50 Tyne Tees Division.
At 0200 hrs on the 27th `B` Company of the 9 DLI were attacked by a German patrol.
At 0515 hrs the whole of 9 DLI were attacked by superior numbers of German infantry supported by tanks, mortars and heavy artillery fire in a heavy frontal assault, casualties being high on both sides in the ensuing hand to hand combat.
At 0730 hrs all three rifle companies found themselves isolated from each other and their battalion headquarters and were overrun, sustaining large numbers of casualties killed, wounded, missing and taken prisoner.
At 0900 hrs orders were given for survivors to withdraw, but unfortunately due to their positions many could not and were forced to surrender.
9 DLI lost 20 killed on the 27 June 1942 and many more died of wounds over the next few days and weeks.
The other Companies who were sheltering in a basin on the escarpment had dug in, yet the fierce shelling was inflicting heavy casualties and by 1100 hrs most of the rifle companies had either been killed or taken prisoner. One such group, including 4037297 Cpl (A/Sgt) James Hawkins, was marched away into the desert with no food or water and clad in only the clothes they were wearing. When at one stage during the march a British armoured car appeared and the German escort fled, the men took their chance and made a break for it. Of over a hundred men most were recaptured, including Hawkins, but some did make it back to the British lines and rejoined the battalion.
Columns of individuals attempted to break free of the German encirclement. 9 DLI along with the other DLI battalions (6 and 8 DLI) assembled at Ikingi Maryut and Amiriya on the 1st July 1942. Most of the 9 DLI survivors came from HQ Company and battalion headquarters staff. Other stragglers came in during the next couple of days and on 2 July when the battalion moved to camp 3 at Mareopolis it comprised around 10 Officers and 283 other ranks.
Amongst the prisoners taken from 9 Durham Light Infantry in this action was 4460630 Private Francis Lynn aged 28. He died during the bombing at Allerona and would have been interred on the spot. He is remembered on the Memorial at El Alamein, as were all those men taken prisoner in North Africa who died during the bombing of the train. Tobruk was in Axis hands until 11 November 1942, when the Allies captured it after the Second Battle of El Alamein. It remained in Allied hands thereafter.
On Land - Italy
Salerno
20838320 Staff/Sergeant Richard Morris 157 Regiment 45 Infantry Division US Army
A convoy of L.C.I.s took 45 Division out of Palermo's harbor and headed for Salerno, Italy. The infantry regiments: the 180th, 190th and our regiment, the 157th, along with support troops, made up the division...Our battalion, the second, was assigned to the floating reserve. 36 Division, originally the Texas National Guard, and elements of the British Army, made the initial invasion. That they were able to land at all and establish a foothold was an accomplishment. The German High Command expected the landing at Salerno since it was the northernmost beach which could be covered by fighter planes based on Sicily. When the first and third battalions of our regiment came ashore the second day they found a desperate and disorganised situation..
Our battalion came ashore at Salerno a few days after the initial invasion...the Luftwaffe greeted us as we debarked from our L.C.I. As we scrambled for cover I noticed that the walls of the foxholes already excavated in the beach area had not been dug in the usual perpendicular fashion. At the base a space had been widened horizontally so that the foxhole formed an inverted 'T'. This indicated that the Germans had been firing air-burst shells. Most artillery shells explode on contact, and their deadly shrapnel fans out above the ground. Soldiers who can get below the earth's surface are protected from harm...
The German air raid was not much more than a nuisance to us since they appeared to be going after the ships in the harbor, and we walked inland a few miles to set up a defensive position. We were given picks and shovels for serious digging: we had to prepare foxholes deep enough to withstand the weight of tanks...digging with a real pick and shovel was a luxury; the danger of another tank-infantry attack was a strong stimulus...Two days later the British Army, which was moving up from the south where it had landed in Calabria, forced the German Army to retreat northward. We trudged after them, pausing only while mines were cleared.
14208010 Trooper Robert W. Calvey 46 Recce Regiment
Trooper Calvey also landed at Salerno. He was taken prisoner in the advance to the Garigliano:
A week later we found ourselves inland, fighting over a wide front. The hilly terrain made progress slow and although a lot of the resistance we encountered was in small pockets, mostly skirmishes with the German rearguard, we awaited the confrontation we knew must come. To keep advancing like we had been, without further casualties, could never be that easy. As we anticipated, almost three weeks later we approached the Garigliano River and resistance was stubborn.
Our first recce patrol in this sector consisting of a corporal and three troopers all failed to return. As any further advance must be across the river, a second fully-armed fighting patrol was ordered to reconnoitre the river bank for any weak spots in the German defence.
That night I was one of ten troopers to be picked, also two NCOs and our officer; this constituted the fighting unit. It was not a very favourable night for a patrol of this kind...we came upon small heaps of earth thrown up from the German slit trenches, now obviously vacated...a low, full moon suddenly appeared from behind a bank of cloud bathing the entire area like a massive searchlight. It also clearly lit up a machine gun post about 150 yards to our left. Our officer, seeing our predicament, shouted out his orders, 'Close four troop at the double,' this coincided with a lethal hail of fire from the machine gun post followed by spasmodic fire from our right flank. Everyone dived for whatever cover they could find, myself behind a slit trench mound. We were caught unawares and completely pinned down, any slight movement from us brought another bout of machine gun fire. Earth and stones sprayed up by the machine gun s rained down on me. It was now obvious to everybody, including Jerry, that we were completely trapped...two Germans with fixed bayonets escorted me up the river bank to a concrete gun emplacement, where the remainder of our patrol stood unarmed and dejected. A German officer who spoke good English approached and ordered us to strip to our bare uniforms, then two of his men checked our pockets. Anything that could be used as a weapon was confiscated, and rings, watches, cigarette cases and lighters.
The advance to the Gustav Line
The Battle of Monte Cassino (also known as the Battle for Rome and the Battle for Cassino) was in fact a costly series of four battles, during which the Allies attempted to break through the Winter Line and seize Rome. At the beginning of 1944 the western half of the Winter Line, which was known as the Gustav Line, was being anchored by the Germans, who were holding the Rapido, Liri and Garigliano valleys and certain surrounding peaks and ridges.
Staff/Sergeant Richard A. Morris C Company 157 Regiment 45 Infantry Divison US Army
Staff/Sergeant Morris describes how he and his friend and fellow-escapee 31000229 Private John Tourtillotte were taken prisoner.
In early November we began to move toward the Gustav Line which Field Marshal Kesselring had prepared to thwart our advance on Rome...
The morning of December 15, 1943 was chilly; the temperature felt like the mid 30s. The gully we were following was a dry stream bed whose sun-bleached rocks made it easier to see in the darkness...We passed two defensive positions which had been blasted out of the rock at the base of the defile's walls; they were located on each side of the stream bed. Fortunately for us they were unoccupied that morning. The gully's walls bore evidence of having been burned by phosphorous shells fired from our 4.2 mortars. Did that explain the absence of opposition?
From now on we were moving behind German lines...After an hour's march we reached a point where the gully opened into a broad valley in front of us...I noticed a fissure in the walls of the gully and scaled it to the top where I came upon a terrace. I called down to the lieutenant to start sending up the men.
From not more than five feet away a machine gun fired on me from the darkness. A stream of tracers hit the edge of the terrace and bounced over my head. The burst of fire could not have lasted more than a second, but I watched the glowing bullets with a strange fascination. It was as if I were an observer watching the gun fire at someone else. Such a reaction had become habitual as a way to confront the ubiquitous anxiety of life at the front. How were we going to attack the caves without tank support? Was it from one of the caves that the gun blasted at me?
My platoon was strung out behind me in single file. It would not be efficient to bring the men up the fissure one by one; the platoon needed to advance on a wider front to strike at the enemy position. I let myself slide to the bottom of the gully, hoping to move the platoon back around the last bend of the gully to make a new approach...
We stood as close as possible to the walls of the cliff for protection from the bullets which rained down on us. I could see nothing above the cliff save the sky. Still the bullets came down, inflicting minor wounds on the men. Our situation was desperate; we needed do do something but we could not move. We needed to shoot back, but we could see no target above the gully wall.
We had one rifle grenade which could fly over the top of the cliff and land among the enemy. As we got it ready to fire, one of the privates begged me not to do so, 'You'll give away our position'. It was comical in spite of our predicament; our position was no secret to the enemy firing down upon us. Who knows what damage the grenade inflicted when it landed out of sight above us? At least the grenade functioned. We had been lugging the damned projectile around for months, and it was not a dud.
At intervals all day long the machine gun s would rake the ravine just a few inches away from the men standing erect and hugging whatever protection the gully wall offered. As the gloom of night deepened, the Germans began lobbing grenades down on the floor of the stream bed. The men's erect position made them vulnerable to the grenades. Many suffered minor wounds from the grenade fragments, the machine gun bullets, or from rock chips off the wall where the bullets struck.
We had to escape that ravine. Now night had fallen, darkness should give us some protection. I passed down the word to pick up the wounded, that we would try to slip out of the ravine. Unfortunately some soldier, probably assisting a wounded member of the platoon, kicked a stone. The stone rattle echoed like thunder through the gully and provoked a wild response form the Germans above. Prolonged bursts of machine gun fire raked the gully.
I decided to surrender what remained of my platoon. Shouting, 'Kamerad, kaput!' I made my way up the fissure to the German position A short German soldier, waving a sub-machine gun, danced around me as he chanted in fairly good English, 'For you the war is over.' He appeared to be no more than 14. Some 12 men from my platoon struggled up from the bottom of the ravine...
Private Green 'Duke' Cox 133 Regiment 34 Infantry Divison US Army
Private Cox's daughter Judy Reishman says:
He enlisted in the army in March 1943. He took his basic training at Fort McClellan in Alabama. From Alabama he was sent to Casablanca, Africa then to the town of Oran. In Oran he boarded a ship bound for Naples, Italy.
34 Division went into the line on 25 September, and after contacting the enemy at the Calore River three days later, the Division drove north to take Benevento and crossed the winding Volturno three times in October and November.
They had a battle that day and the machine gunner died. Our father took over the machine gun and said he killed around five Germans. The same day the the sergeant asked for seven men for a night patrol. One of the men was a scared 16-year-old who was supposed to leave for the U. S. the next day. Our father volunteered to take his place. That night they ran into a field full of German soldiers. They fought and two of our men were killed. The five left, which included our father, were captured. The Germans put them on a truck and took them to a prison camp north of Rome.
2659382 Sergeant Jim Mulhall of 3 Coldstream Guards was captured on 29 December 1943
The Battle of Monte Camino took place on 9th December 1943. The Battalion attacked at night. We knew too well that desperate mule track which cut our worn boots to shreds. The Battalion Medical Officer and our Padre were killed the previous night by a shell that landed in the rear of the Battalion. We were under constant fire from enemy snipers. I remember that we flushed out one and I shot him with great satisfaction — that's the way we were! We built shelters with the rocks but gradually the conditions under which we were fighting took control, and one dark night the Divisional Commander ordered the Battalion to move position. It was chaotic. Porters and mules were left behind to follow; many men and animals were lost and the stench was shocking.Christmas came and went in a flash and mail was six weeks late.
Then orders came that with the 3rd Battalion Coldstream Guards in the vanguard we would advance on December 29th to a map reference south of the River Garigliano. Our Signals Officer had been killed on the foothills, and I attended the orders group where the situation was discussed. At 1930hrs the adjutant told me to report to the Battalion Headquarters, where I was told that information had been received that the enemy had been heard two miles away on the south side of the river. This was alarming news as we had been told that our advance up to the river bridge would be clear. Time was short, so I was ordered to go forward on a reconnaissance patrol. I decided, in order to report back quickly, to take two signallers with motorbikes and that I would ride pillion with a third signaller. We rode slowly in the dark without lights. Suddenly we were fired upon. We hid our bikes in gutters on each side of the road. I realised that the enemy were positioned in a crater on this side of the river armed with two or three machine guns. We opened our wirelesses but could not get a response from our main attacking force some two miles behind us. I ordered the three signallers to remain on either side of the road to try to transmit news that could save a lot of lives. I could not wait and as I was the senior person I knew that I had to speak with the officer-in-charge of the attack, knowing that it was probably already too late, and I set off to walk back to base.
After a mile I was stopped, my hand on my revolver, by a German patrol that had come from the sea between the river mouth and our main body of troops. I was ordered to put up my hands and the German patrol leader took my revolver telling me 'For you the war is over'. Although I was searched, I was able to hide the codes which were operational for the next 24 hours. The German officer made me march down the middle of the road where the three signallers were hidden in the gutter, while he kept to the side as he had heard his own troops fire at us earlier. I thought that this was the end for me as I knew that German soldiers were bunkered down nearby and, as one of the defining moments of my life, I said to myself 'For you, Jim, your war ends on 29th December 1943'.
As I stood on the track surrounded by five Germans I was scared. A soldier, I knew that I should attempt to get back to my unit as soon as possible, and I weighed up the pros and cons of trying to escape in the dark but I realised that the likelihood was that I would be shot. While being taken across a skeleton bridge I was able to destroy the secret codes and throw them into the river. This was seen and I received a truncheon blow to the head, with blood pouring down my cheeks and neck.
Two of the Germans held me and I was taken to a field dressing station about two miles north of the river before being transferred to a civilian Italian jail at Frosinone, near Rome.The cell into which I was thrown was occupied by two Royal Artillery soldiers, captured five days previously. They were naked and I asked them why, and if they were not cold. They replied that it was better to be cold than eaten alive by lice. The next day they showed me how to burn the lice in the seams of my shirt. After my wound had been dressed again, I was taken for interrogation by a German Intelligence Officer in a room that seemed to be in telephone contact with German headquarters in Berlin, Rome and Naples and front-line troops. My interrogator was a tall well-dressed officer who, as he had been educated at Oxford, introduced himself in excellent English. My response to his questions was to repeat, 'I am by the Treaty of Geneva only to give my number, rank and name'. The Officer then said that it didn't matter if I chose not to cooperate as he already knew the name of my unit commander. I was returned to jail to await transfer to a German prisoner-of-war camp...
37548471 Private Russel Eugene Kurzhal I Company 168 Regiment 34 Infantry Divison US Army
Private Kurzhal was captured in the run-up to the first battle of Cassino.
On 4 January, our orders came through. We’re moving up deep into the lines...But, our company was supposed to be the lucky ones. We don’t have to fight. We were going up there and we are a reserve company...That’s what they told us, yes. So we’re moving up and we have to go to a certain designated spot, and there we’re going to dig in. Foxholes. And we’re going to stay there until the next morning. Another company was going to go through us to attack a hill up ahead. They wanted to take that hill. And only if they run into trouble, then we’d get throwed in, as I said, as a reserve company, we’d have to be throwed in to help them. So, we went up that mountain. Took off up there. Late afternoon. January the 4th.
And we walked and we walked and we walked and night came and it got dark and we still kept agoing. Went up this gorge. It wasn’t maybe 10 ft. wide across this gorge. On the way up, we met another unit coming down, American soldiers. We asked them, 'Any Germans up there?' No, none up there where they were at. So, we went on and on. Finally, we came to two Italian guys standing along the road. They were bumming cigarettes from us. So anyway, one of them could speak good English, so we asked them, 'Any Germans up there?' No, no Germans up there. So we walked on and on that night and we’d stop and take a break once in a while.
Went on till, I suppose, about 10 o’clock, maybe so, at night, and just like that the draw opened up to a place I’d say probably 100 feet wide. And we walked on into that, just as we got all into that the shooting started. And the first thing is, one Sergeant said, 'Boy, what a trap we walked into.' And was it a trap, just like the Germans had a trap all set and waiting for us. And we walked straight into it.
Oh, the battle started and the shooting and there was bullets flying everywhere and they dropped hand grenades on us 'cause they were up on the side of the mountain where they could see us. It was dark, but just a little bit of a haze of the moon up there. You could see that. Anyway, there was an old donkey standing out in the middle of this opening, so I thought, 'Boy, I’ll get behind that donkey, I’ll be safe there.' Well, I went behind him for a little while and decided, by God, I’d better not stay there, so I went up by this big stone rock wall. And a little while later, I looked back. That donkey was deader than hell out there. He either got it with bullets, or a hand grenade got him.
They used them damned burp guns on us. They’re not too accurate, but boy, they raised the hair on your head when they started shooting them. And they did just like the Americans did. Every 5th bullet was a tracer bullet and you could see that bullet and you know there’s four bullets in between those.
So the fighting went on and on and finally after about three hours, two Lieutenants that was in charge of us there - somehow the Germans captured them and they surrendered the whole bunch of us then. They called out to the rest of us to give it up. So we had to lay down our guns and come out with your hands up. Anyway, out of 160 men that went in there, there were only 72 of us left that were taken prisoner...(the) dead and wounded...we had to leave them. Couldn’t do anything with them. What happened to them, I don’t know... They (the Germans) were above us on the side of the mountain. They could throw hand grenades right down on us. We were right down in that flat space, in the draw down in there. They had us cornered right out of the bat. Whether they knew we were coming, or what happened, but like that Sergeant said, boy, what a trap we walked into. We walked square into it, too....
they took us, and they searched us. To see if we had anything on us. And what happened is, I forgot about the one hand grenade. We went up with 4 hand grenades and I had one in my pocket that I had forgotten about. So the German soldier just took it and tossed if off to the side. That took care of that. And they went by picking up our guns and breaking those. They busted our guns...You were scared to death. But you were glad the fight, the shooting, was over. Kind of glad of that, but still, you were scared-er than hell 'cause, what was going to happen next? And this one guy from South Carolina finally said to me, 'Now, do you think we’ll come out of it now? Live through it?' We had talked a lot about that before, about coming through the war.
Well, after we were taken prisoners, like I said, they searched us and then they lined us up and we started to walk back going into the German lines. So we walked all the rest of that night towards morning where it started to break day. In Italy, those darn mountains are built out about 5 to 10 feet and then they drop down another 5 to 10 feet, like steps clear down the mountain.
It’s starting to get daylight and for some reason or another, our own artillery opened up on us. We were right in the spot where they were shelling the German lines. And we were there. And we’d get behind this darned wall, and I thought we were pretty safe behind that wall there. Our shells were going over us. There were 72 of us there. Anyway, everything went fine for about a half hour. You could hear the shells coming. They’d go – a soft, swirling, whistling sound. Then all of a sudden they must have - it was like they lowered their guns - and they started to come in on us. And the guys started getting hit. And, boy, I’ll tell you. That was the worst sound you ever heard. Them poor guys just screaming their heads off when they were hit. Just when they’re dying, and everything. And that lasted for about three hours. Our artillery coming in on us...
Well, the guy beside me got hit right in the butt. And he started jumping around. We were lying down on our bellies, trying to crawl up into our helmets. That’s what saved us some. I threw my arm over him to hold him down. I was afraid he was going to jump up and start running, and then it would be worse yet. The pain kind of went away enough, so he stayed down, and just about that time, the guy on the left got hit right through the wrist. A piece of shrapnel tore the whole thing all to pieces. And he went to jumping around and I pulled him down, too. And then the guy on my right got it again. Crushed his tail bone. Right on the butt. And I finally got everything calmed down, and all of a sudden, WHAP, a piece hit my helmet and knocked it right off. It had put a big dent in it, the darn helmet. Hadn’t been for that helmet, I wouldn’t be here.
...Anyway, it lasted about three hours and finally got over with and we got up and that was the worst bloody mess you ever seen. Out of 72 of us that were there, there were 14 of us left that were untouched again...And out of those guys, there were legs blowed off. One poor guy, they said, had both legs blowed off. He was still alive, and he asked if maybe they had a candy bar. We always carried a bunch of candy with us. And they gave him one and he ate that and he died, just like that. But it wasn’t only Americans, it was Germans, too, that were lying all dead there. So how many really got it, I don’t know.
Then came the chore of getting down from the mountain. The Germans told us that there was an aid station down there about two miles down the mountain. That we could take our wounded down there. A German aid station. Which may sound strange to you and everyone else I start telling about this. Here we are, fighting each other, and now we’re helping each other with our wounded. So we started down the mountain.
I took two guys, one on each side, to help them, and somebody says those guys can walk themselves pretty good yet. They were hit and everything - hurt - but they could still walk, so you better help on the stretcher. So from that time on, I started helping carry the stretchers down the mountain. So I made - that day we made four trips down the mountain. Carrying wounded down there. Then that night, we started back up again, but by that time the day had gone by and night time coming, so we had to go back up. We still had two left up there to bring down. They said, 'No, don’t go up, the artillery is coming in pretty heavy again. Wait till morning.' So we bedded down on that old floor in there. Must have been a marble floor at that doggone aid station they had there. Pretty big building. Anyway, that’s were we slept for the night.
...Sometimes there’d be two Germans and two Americans carrying a stretcher. It took four men to carry a stretcher. There might be a German on the stretcher, or an American on the stretcher. They helped us and we helped them. Just a crazy deal all the way through...On the way down, a doggone shell come in too close and the guy on the opposite side of the stretcher from me - he was a big, tall guy - a piece of shrapnel went by me and hit him in the leg and down he went. Knocked him out, so that left us now with only one guy up with him, and two guys carrying the stretcher down off the mountain. Then we finally got him down there and started to go back up for the last one when they told us to not go up. Artillery was coming. We had to wait till morning. So we waited. Went back up that morning. Out of the original 160 only 13 that were untouched, without a scratch.
...they took us away that following night on trucks. Took us into this building where we stayed overnight. There we were questioned one at a time. By this German officer. He could speak good English. They knew everything up there. He says to me, 'You are with the 168th Regiment, 34 Division, and you’re out of Company I. And your company commander is Lt. McMann.' And he was right all the way. He knew it all...after the questioning there, one plane came over and dropped a bomb right beside the building we were in. And we all hid under the tables, but it missed us.
Rigel Ridge
53522 Gunner Graham B Tennant 6th Battery, 2nd Field Regiment, Natal Field Artillery was captured on 13 June 1942 at Rigel Ridge. When the Natal Field Artillery was called up for the 2nd World War, they went 'Up North' divided between the Second Field and the Second Light Brigades. When the 8 Gun Battery Organisation was introduced there was a partial amalgamation and the Unit became known as 2nd Field Regiment (NFA) SAA, consisting of RHQ, 4th ,5th and 6th Batteries. After undergoing training in desert warfare the Regiment moved with the rest of 2 South African Division and on arrival in Egypt was issued with new 25 Pounder QF guns. The men were engaged in digging defences at El Alamein, some of which would be used in the battle some 12 months later. In the run -up to the fall of Tobruk 6th Battery was engaged in heavy fighting from the 26th May to the 13th June 1942, when it was given the task of covering the withdrawal of the Guards Brigade from Rigel Ridge, 42 km south of the city. The Royal Artillery Commemoration Book describes this as the most glorious action fought by South African Artillery during the War:
'On the 13th [June 1942] the Scots Guards on Rigel Ridge were attacked and overrun by a large force of enemy tanks. The 6th Battery, two troops of which were 800 yards [875m] below the ridge (and north of it) and 600 yards [656m] apart, was at gunfire under the directions of the troop commanders until the ridge was lost. The battery commander then decided it was his duty to stay and fight it out and so delay the enemy as long as possible. The troop commanders hastened to the gun positions and all guns were commanded individually and engaged the enemy on open sights. The enemy tanks lay hull-down on the ridge with 50mm anti-tank guns on the ground between them, Supported by field guns, they maintained a devastating fire including armour-piercing machine gun fire on 6th Battery. Tanks moved round until the Troop were being attacked from the front and rear. Nevertheless the fight was maintained until all eight guns had been put out of action by enemy fire. About half the gun detachments were killed and wounded, including the battery commander and most of the officers. The last gun in action was manned by Lieutenant Ashley and one signaller until this gun too was knocked out. When the battery had been silenced, the enemy tanks approached cautiously and the battery personnel were made prisoners.' The Natal Field Artillery was captured and virtually ceased to exist until after the War. (http://www.southafricanmilitaryhistory.org)
Gunner Tennant was shipped from Tripoli to Naples on the Col di Lana on 7 December and sent to PG 66 Capua along with colleague 53490 Gunner Arthur Joscelyne. He escaped from campo P.G.54 on 11 September 1943 together the other internees and remained at large until 22 January 1944 when he was recaptured. He and Gunner Joscelyne were put on the train, but whereas Gunner Jocelyne was seriously injured, suffering from a fractured upper leg and head wounds, Gunner Tennant was uninjured.
Tobruk and Mersa Matruh
Corporal Bill Marsh, Corporal Leonong Matlakala and Sergeant Robert J. Maddern were amongst those captured at Tobruk. At the beginning of World War 2, the city of Tobruk, situated in the Italian colony of Libya, became the site of important battles between the Allies and the Axis Powers. Tobruk was strategically important to the conquest of Eastern Libya, at that time known as the Province of Cyrenaica.
In early September 1940 Italian forces invaded Egypt, at that time a British Protectorate, but halted their advance after a week and dug in at Sidi Barani. In early December, 7 Armoured Division and 4 Indian Division launched a counter-strike code named Operation Compass. The Italians were forced to surrender and they retreated to El Agheila. Tobruk was captured by British, Australian and Indian forces on 22 January 1941.
In response Italy sent several more division to Libya, and also called on her German ally for help. The Germans replied by sending the Deutches Afrika Korps (DAK) to Libya. These forces, under Lieutenant-General Erwin Rommel, drove the Allies back across Cyrenaica to the Egyptian border, leaving Tobruk isolated and under siege. The defenders of the fortress consisted of 9 Australian Division, 18 Australian Brigade and some British tanks and artillery. They were later reinforced and replaced by 70 British Infantry Division, the Polish Independent Carpathian Rifle Brigade, a Czechoslovakian unit and a British tank brigade. The siege lasted until December, when Operation Crusader pushed both the Deutches Afrika Korps and the Italians back out of Cyrenaica. Rommel's second offensive took place in May and June 1942. Tobruk was taken in a surprise attack on 21 June. Here is an account taken from the official history of 1 Battalion South Wales Borderers:
The battalion...occupied defensive positions at Bel Hamed near Tobruk, forming a 'box' with other members of 20th Indian Brigade. The British forces were now in full retreat and orders were given that this 'box' was to be held to the last man. Accordingly, the battalion laid in stocks, sent back its transport and prepared for a siege. But the very next evening, 17th June, it was suddenly ordered to withdraw 70 miles to the east. There was no transport and no time even to destroy supplies, the intelligence officer sent to reconnoitre the route and meet the transport was captured by a German patrol so the battalion withdrew over unknown country leaving behind a small rearguard under Major C.P.G de Winton and Lt. T.M. Stephens. This rearguard, for which no transport could be made available, was composed entirely of volunteers. They knew, before volunteering, that their only future was death or capture.
The rest of the battalion marched back to their transport then set off in a convoy for Sollum, but they found the enemy had outflanked them and now lay in considerable strength with many tanks across the road. The Commanding Officer, Lieutenant-Colonel F.R.G. Matthews decided to try to outflank the enemy by driving south and cast into the desert. In the confusion, contact could not be made with all vehicles, but most of them started off on a disastrous journey in which they had to run the gauntlet of enemy tanks and shells. Many vehicles were lost or hit and only a few trucks kept with the Commanding Officer and finally reached Sollum, after seven hours driving behind the German forward troops. A few others found their way through separately but the battalion lost more than five hundred officers and men, most of whom were taken prisoner. Four officers and about a hundred men reorganised in Sollum where they were joined by reinforcements. The retreat continued by night along choked roads enlivened by enemy bombing. The battalion passed through El Alamein, where the Germans were eventually halted, through Cairo and back to a rest area where a draft brought the numbers up to 15 officers and 300 men.
3908767 Corporal Bill Marsh 1 South Wales Borderers
Prior to arriving in North Africa he had been on duty on the North West Frontier, at Cawnpore and in Iraq:
After staying awhile in Iraq we moved up through El Alamein, Mersa Matruh and so on until we reached Gambut Aerodrome which is roughly fifteen to twenty miles outside Tobruk...This was early 1942 and by June 16th 1942 the Germans and Italians had started to encircle us, leaving only the Mediterranean as a way out.
It was around six o'clock one evening when all senior NCOs were sent for - including me of course, being one of them. We were told of the situation. It appeared that we were almost encircled, so had to prepare to withdraw some 12 to 14 miles back to another position.
I was in command of two anti-tank guns. We were told to travel as light as possible, which meant burying half of our ammunition and destroying all reserve food and water. Around midnight we started making our withdrawal but came to a halt at dawn next morning, 17 June. Here we were told that we were now totally surrounded by the enemy and were completely cut off. We were told to destroy all arms and all vehicles unless you wished to have a go at breaking through enemy lines. The message given was: 'Everyone for himself'. After destroying the guns in my command and the two vehicles our section split up. Our troops were scattered all over the place, wondering where to go and in which direction, and we were being attacked by enemy planes.
I and two Privates started to walk back, keeping as close as possible to the Mediterranean. Luck was not with us, for the next day, 18 June, we were seen by the enemy, who were watching the coast, and we were captured. We were now in enemy hands, the same as thousands of others.
On their website 9 Durham Light Infantry (7 Armoured Division) describe what happened at Mersa Matruh some nine days later:
The morning of 27 June 1942 9 DLI were some 15 miles south of Garawla at a place called Raqabet El Sikka. 151 Brigade, of which 9 DLI were part, had the job of protecting part of the Mersa defences so the town of Mersa Matruh was not cut (off). Rommel's armoured columns swept around Matruh and cut off 10 Indian Division and 50 Tyne Tees Division.
At 0200 hrs on the 27th `B` Company of the 9 DLI were attacked by a German patrol.
At 0515 hrs the whole of 9 DLI were attacked by superior numbers of German infantry supported by tanks, mortars and heavy artillery fire in a heavy frontal assault, casualties being high on both sides in the ensuing hand to hand combat.
At 0730 hrs all three rifle companies found themselves isolated from each other and their battalion headquarters and were overrun, sustaining large numbers of casualties killed, wounded, missing and taken prisoner.
At 0900 hrs orders were given for survivors to withdraw, but unfortunately due to their positions many could not and were forced to surrender.
9 DLI lost 20 killed on the 27 June 1942 and many more died of wounds over the next few days and weeks.
The other Companies who were sheltering in a basin on the escarpment had dug in, yet the fierce shelling was inflicting heavy casualties and by 1100 hrs most of the rifle companies had either been killed or taken prisoner. One such group, including 4037297 Cpl (A/Sgt) James Hawkins, was marched away into the desert with no food or water and clad in only the clothes they were wearing. When at one stage during the march a British armoured car appeared and the German escort fled, the men took their chance and made a break for it. Of over a hundred men most were recaptured, including Hawkins, but some did make it back to the British lines and rejoined the battalion.
Columns of individuals attempted to break free of the German encirclement. 9 DLI along with the other DLI battalions (6 and 8 DLI) assembled at Ikingi Maryut and Amiriya on the 1st July 1942. Most of the 9 DLI survivors came from HQ Company and battalion headquarters staff. Other stragglers came in during the next couple of days and on 2 July when the battalion moved to camp 3 at Mareopolis it comprised around 10 Officers and 283 other ranks.
Amongst the prisoners taken from 9 Durham Light Infantry in this action was 4460630 Private Francis Lynn aged 28. He died during the bombing at Allerona and would have been interred on the spot. He is remembered on the Memorial at El Alamein, as were all those men taken prisoner in North Africa who died during the bombing of the train. Tobruk was in Axis hands until 11 November 1942, when the Allies captured it after the Second Battle of El Alamein. It remained in Allied hands thereafter.
On Land - Italy
Salerno
20838320 Staff/Sergeant Richard Morris 157 Regiment 45 Infantry Division US Army
A convoy of L.C.I.s took 45 Division out of Palermo's harbor and headed for Salerno, Italy. The infantry regiments: the 180th, 190th and our regiment, the 157th, along with support troops, made up the division...Our battalion, the second, was assigned to the floating reserve. 36 Division, originally the Texas National Guard, and elements of the British Army, made the initial invasion. That they were able to land at all and establish a foothold was an accomplishment. The German High Command expected the landing at Salerno since it was the northernmost beach which could be covered by fighter planes based on Sicily. When the first and third battalions of our regiment came ashore the second day they found a desperate and disorganised situation..
Our battalion came ashore at Salerno a few days after the initial invasion...the Luftwaffe greeted us as we debarked from our L.C.I. As we scrambled for cover I noticed that the walls of the foxholes already excavated in the beach area had not been dug in the usual perpendicular fashion. At the base a space had been widened horizontally so that the foxhole formed an inverted 'T'. This indicated that the Germans had been firing air-burst shells. Most artillery shells explode on contact, and their deadly shrapnel fans out above the ground. Soldiers who can get below the earth's surface are protected from harm...
The German air raid was not much more than a nuisance to us since they appeared to be going after the ships in the harbor, and we walked inland a few miles to set up a defensive position. We were given picks and shovels for serious digging: we had to prepare foxholes deep enough to withstand the weight of tanks...digging with a real pick and shovel was a luxury; the danger of another tank-infantry attack was a strong stimulus...Two days later the British Army, which was moving up from the south where it had landed in Calabria, forced the German Army to retreat northward. We trudged after them, pausing only while mines were cleared.
14208010 Trooper Robert W. Calvey 46 Recce Regiment
Trooper Calvey also landed at Salerno. He was taken prisoner in the advance to the Garigliano:
A week later we found ourselves inland, fighting over a wide front. The hilly terrain made progress slow and although a lot of the resistance we encountered was in small pockets, mostly skirmishes with the German rearguard, we awaited the confrontation we knew must come. To keep advancing like we had been, without further casualties, could never be that easy. As we anticipated, almost three weeks later we approached the Garigliano River and resistance was stubborn.
Our first recce patrol in this sector consisting of a corporal and three troopers all failed to return. As any further advance must be across the river, a second fully-armed fighting patrol was ordered to reconnoitre the river bank for any weak spots in the German defence.
That night I was one of ten troopers to be picked, also two NCOs and our officer; this constituted the fighting unit. It was not a very favourable night for a patrol of this kind...we came upon small heaps of earth thrown up from the German slit trenches, now obviously vacated...a low, full moon suddenly appeared from behind a bank of cloud bathing the entire area like a massive searchlight. It also clearly lit up a machine gun post about 150 yards to our left. Our officer, seeing our predicament, shouted out his orders, 'Close four troop at the double,' this coincided with a lethal hail of fire from the machine gun post followed by spasmodic fire from our right flank. Everyone dived for whatever cover they could find, myself behind a slit trench mound. We were caught unawares and completely pinned down, any slight movement from us brought another bout of machine gun fire. Earth and stones sprayed up by the machine gun s rained down on me. It was now obvious to everybody, including Jerry, that we were completely trapped...two Germans with fixed bayonets escorted me up the river bank to a concrete gun emplacement, where the remainder of our patrol stood unarmed and dejected. A German officer who spoke good English approached and ordered us to strip to our bare uniforms, then two of his men checked our pockets. Anything that could be used as a weapon was confiscated, and rings, watches, cigarette cases and lighters.
The advance to the Gustav Line
The Battle of Monte Cassino (also known as the Battle for Rome and the Battle for Cassino) was in fact a costly series of four battles, during which the Allies attempted to break through the Winter Line and seize Rome. At the beginning of 1944 the western half of the Winter Line, which was known as the Gustav Line, was being anchored by the Germans, who were holding the Rapido, Liri and Garigliano valleys and certain surrounding peaks and ridges.
Staff/Sergeant Richard A. Morris C Company 157 Regiment 45 Infantry Divison US Army
Staff/Sergeant Morris describes how he and his friend and fellow-escapee 31000229 Private John Tourtillotte were taken prisoner.
In early November we began to move toward the Gustav Line which Field Marshal Kesselring had prepared to thwart our advance on Rome...
The morning of December 15, 1943 was chilly; the temperature felt like the mid 30s. The gully we were following was a dry stream bed whose sun-bleached rocks made it easier to see in the darkness...We passed two defensive positions which had been blasted out of the rock at the base of the defile's walls; they were located on each side of the stream bed. Fortunately for us they were unoccupied that morning. The gully's walls bore evidence of having been burned by phosphorous shells fired from our 4.2 mortars. Did that explain the absence of opposition?
From now on we were moving behind German lines...After an hour's march we reached a point where the gully opened into a broad valley in front of us...I noticed a fissure in the walls of the gully and scaled it to the top where I came upon a terrace. I called down to the lieutenant to start sending up the men.
From not more than five feet away a machine gun fired on me from the darkness. A stream of tracers hit the edge of the terrace and bounced over my head. The burst of fire could not have lasted more than a second, but I watched the glowing bullets with a strange fascination. It was as if I were an observer watching the gun fire at someone else. Such a reaction had become habitual as a way to confront the ubiquitous anxiety of life at the front. How were we going to attack the caves without tank support? Was it from one of the caves that the gun blasted at me?
My platoon was strung out behind me in single file. It would not be efficient to bring the men up the fissure one by one; the platoon needed to advance on a wider front to strike at the enemy position. I let myself slide to the bottom of the gully, hoping to move the platoon back around the last bend of the gully to make a new approach...
We stood as close as possible to the walls of the cliff for protection from the bullets which rained down on us. I could see nothing above the cliff save the sky. Still the bullets came down, inflicting minor wounds on the men. Our situation was desperate; we needed do do something but we could not move. We needed to shoot back, but we could see no target above the gully wall.
We had one rifle grenade which could fly over the top of the cliff and land among the enemy. As we got it ready to fire, one of the privates begged me not to do so, 'You'll give away our position'. It was comical in spite of our predicament; our position was no secret to the enemy firing down upon us. Who knows what damage the grenade inflicted when it landed out of sight above us? At least the grenade functioned. We had been lugging the damned projectile around for months, and it was not a dud.
At intervals all day long the machine gun s would rake the ravine just a few inches away from the men standing erect and hugging whatever protection the gully wall offered. As the gloom of night deepened, the Germans began lobbing grenades down on the floor of the stream bed. The men's erect position made them vulnerable to the grenades. Many suffered minor wounds from the grenade fragments, the machine gun bullets, or from rock chips off the wall where the bullets struck.
We had to escape that ravine. Now night had fallen, darkness should give us some protection. I passed down the word to pick up the wounded, that we would try to slip out of the ravine. Unfortunately some soldier, probably assisting a wounded member of the platoon, kicked a stone. The stone rattle echoed like thunder through the gully and provoked a wild response form the Germans above. Prolonged bursts of machine gun fire raked the gully.
I decided to surrender what remained of my platoon. Shouting, 'Kamerad, kaput!' I made my way up the fissure to the German position A short German soldier, waving a sub-machine gun, danced around me as he chanted in fairly good English, 'For you the war is over.' He appeared to be no more than 14. Some 12 men from my platoon struggled up from the bottom of the ravine...
Private Green 'Duke' Cox 133 Regiment 34 Infantry Divison US Army
Private Cox's daughter Judy Reishman says:
He enlisted in the army in March 1943. He took his basic training at Fort McClellan in Alabama. From Alabama he was sent to Casablanca, Africa then to the town of Oran. In Oran he boarded a ship bound for Naples, Italy.
34 Division went into the line on 25 September, and after contacting the enemy at the Calore River three days later, the Division drove north to take Benevento and crossed the winding Volturno three times in October and November.
They had a battle that day and the machine gunner died. Our father took over the machine gun and said he killed around five Germans. The same day the the sergeant asked for seven men for a night patrol. One of the men was a scared 16-year-old who was supposed to leave for the U. S. the next day. Our father volunteered to take his place. That night they ran into a field full of German soldiers. They fought and two of our men were killed. The five left, which included our father, were captured. The Germans put them on a truck and took them to a prison camp north of Rome.
2659382 Sergeant Jim Mulhall of 3 Coldstream Guards was captured on 29 December 1943
The Battle of Monte Camino took place on 9th December 1943. The Battalion attacked at night. We knew too well that desperate mule track which cut our worn boots to shreds. The Battalion Medical Officer and our Padre were killed the previous night by a shell that landed in the rear of the Battalion. We were under constant fire from enemy snipers. I remember that we flushed out one and I shot him with great satisfaction — that's the way we were! We built shelters with the rocks but gradually the conditions under which we were fighting took control, and one dark night the Divisional Commander ordered the Battalion to move position. It was chaotic. Porters and mules were left behind to follow; many men and animals were lost and the stench was shocking.Christmas came and went in a flash and mail was six weeks late.
Then orders came that with the 3rd Battalion Coldstream Guards in the vanguard we would advance on December 29th to a map reference south of the River Garigliano. Our Signals Officer had been killed on the foothills, and I attended the orders group where the situation was discussed. At 1930hrs the adjutant told me to report to the Battalion Headquarters, where I was told that information had been received that the enemy had been heard two miles away on the south side of the river. This was alarming news as we had been told that our advance up to the river bridge would be clear. Time was short, so I was ordered to go forward on a reconnaissance patrol. I decided, in order to report back quickly, to take two signallers with motorbikes and that I would ride pillion with a third signaller. We rode slowly in the dark without lights. Suddenly we were fired upon. We hid our bikes in gutters on each side of the road. I realised that the enemy were positioned in a crater on this side of the river armed with two or three machine guns. We opened our wirelesses but could not get a response from our main attacking force some two miles behind us. I ordered the three signallers to remain on either side of the road to try to transmit news that could save a lot of lives. I could not wait and as I was the senior person I knew that I had to speak with the officer-in-charge of the attack, knowing that it was probably already too late, and I set off to walk back to base.
After a mile I was stopped, my hand on my revolver, by a German patrol that had come from the sea between the river mouth and our main body of troops. I was ordered to put up my hands and the German patrol leader took my revolver telling me 'For you the war is over'. Although I was searched, I was able to hide the codes which were operational for the next 24 hours. The German officer made me march down the middle of the road where the three signallers were hidden in the gutter, while he kept to the side as he had heard his own troops fire at us earlier. I thought that this was the end for me as I knew that German soldiers were bunkered down nearby and, as one of the defining moments of my life, I said to myself 'For you, Jim, your war ends on 29th December 1943'.
As I stood on the track surrounded by five Germans I was scared. A soldier, I knew that I should attempt to get back to my unit as soon as possible, and I weighed up the pros and cons of trying to escape in the dark but I realised that the likelihood was that I would be shot. While being taken across a skeleton bridge I was able to destroy the secret codes and throw them into the river. This was seen and I received a truncheon blow to the head, with blood pouring down my cheeks and neck.
Two of the Germans held me and I was taken to a field dressing station about two miles north of the river before being transferred to a civilian Italian jail at Frosinone, near Rome.The cell into which I was thrown was occupied by two Royal Artillery soldiers, captured five days previously. They were naked and I asked them why, and if they were not cold. They replied that it was better to be cold than eaten alive by lice. The next day they showed me how to burn the lice in the seams of my shirt. After my wound had been dressed again, I was taken for interrogation by a German Intelligence Officer in a room that seemed to be in telephone contact with German headquarters in Berlin, Rome and Naples and front-line troops. My interrogator was a tall well-dressed officer who, as he had been educated at Oxford, introduced himself in excellent English. My response to his questions was to repeat, 'I am by the Treaty of Geneva only to give my number, rank and name'. The Officer then said that it didn't matter if I chose not to cooperate as he already knew the name of my unit commander. I was returned to jail to await transfer to a German prisoner-of-war camp...
37548471 Private Russel Eugene Kurzhal I Company 168 Regiment 34 Infantry Divison US Army
Private Kurzhal was captured in the run-up to the first battle of Cassino.
On 4 January, our orders came through. We’re moving up deep into the lines...But, our company was supposed to be the lucky ones. We don’t have to fight. We were going up there and we are a reserve company...That’s what they told us, yes. So we’re moving up and we have to go to a certain designated spot, and there we’re going to dig in. Foxholes. And we’re going to stay there until the next morning. Another company was going to go through us to attack a hill up ahead. They wanted to take that hill. And only if they run into trouble, then we’d get throwed in, as I said, as a reserve company, we’d have to be throwed in to help them. So, we went up that mountain. Took off up there. Late afternoon. January the 4th.
And we walked and we walked and we walked and night came and it got dark and we still kept agoing. Went up this gorge. It wasn’t maybe 10 ft. wide across this gorge. On the way up, we met another unit coming down, American soldiers. We asked them, 'Any Germans up there?' No, none up there where they were at. So, we went on and on. Finally, we came to two Italian guys standing along the road. They were bumming cigarettes from us. So anyway, one of them could speak good English, so we asked them, 'Any Germans up there?' No, no Germans up there. So we walked on and on that night and we’d stop and take a break once in a while.
Went on till, I suppose, about 10 o’clock, maybe so, at night, and just like that the draw opened up to a place I’d say probably 100 feet wide. And we walked on into that, just as we got all into that the shooting started. And the first thing is, one Sergeant said, 'Boy, what a trap we walked into.' And was it a trap, just like the Germans had a trap all set and waiting for us. And we walked straight into it.
Oh, the battle started and the shooting and there was bullets flying everywhere and they dropped hand grenades on us 'cause they were up on the side of the mountain where they could see us. It was dark, but just a little bit of a haze of the moon up there. You could see that. Anyway, there was an old donkey standing out in the middle of this opening, so I thought, 'Boy, I’ll get behind that donkey, I’ll be safe there.' Well, I went behind him for a little while and decided, by God, I’d better not stay there, so I went up by this big stone rock wall. And a little while later, I looked back. That donkey was deader than hell out there. He either got it with bullets, or a hand grenade got him.
They used them damned burp guns on us. They’re not too accurate, but boy, they raised the hair on your head when they started shooting them. And they did just like the Americans did. Every 5th bullet was a tracer bullet and you could see that bullet and you know there’s four bullets in between those.
So the fighting went on and on and finally after about three hours, two Lieutenants that was in charge of us there - somehow the Germans captured them and they surrendered the whole bunch of us then. They called out to the rest of us to give it up. So we had to lay down our guns and come out with your hands up. Anyway, out of 160 men that went in there, there were only 72 of us left that were taken prisoner...(the) dead and wounded...we had to leave them. Couldn’t do anything with them. What happened to them, I don’t know... They (the Germans) were above us on the side of the mountain. They could throw hand grenades right down on us. We were right down in that flat space, in the draw down in there. They had us cornered right out of the bat. Whether they knew we were coming, or what happened, but like that Sergeant said, boy, what a trap we walked into. We walked square into it, too....
they took us, and they searched us. To see if we had anything on us. And what happened is, I forgot about the one hand grenade. We went up with 4 hand grenades and I had one in my pocket that I had forgotten about. So the German soldier just took it and tossed if off to the side. That took care of that. And they went by picking up our guns and breaking those. They busted our guns...You were scared to death. But you were glad the fight, the shooting, was over. Kind of glad of that, but still, you were scared-er than hell 'cause, what was going to happen next? And this one guy from South Carolina finally said to me, 'Now, do you think we’ll come out of it now? Live through it?' We had talked a lot about that before, about coming through the war.
Well, after we were taken prisoners, like I said, they searched us and then they lined us up and we started to walk back going into the German lines. So we walked all the rest of that night towards morning where it started to break day. In Italy, those darn mountains are built out about 5 to 10 feet and then they drop down another 5 to 10 feet, like steps clear down the mountain.
It’s starting to get daylight and for some reason or another, our own artillery opened up on us. We were right in the spot where they were shelling the German lines. And we were there. And we’d get behind this darned wall, and I thought we were pretty safe behind that wall there. Our shells were going over us. There were 72 of us there. Anyway, everything went fine for about a half hour. You could hear the shells coming. They’d go – a soft, swirling, whistling sound. Then all of a sudden they must have - it was like they lowered their guns - and they started to come in on us. And the guys started getting hit. And, boy, I’ll tell you. That was the worst sound you ever heard. Them poor guys just screaming their heads off when they were hit. Just when they’re dying, and everything. And that lasted for about three hours. Our artillery coming in on us...
Well, the guy beside me got hit right in the butt. And he started jumping around. We were lying down on our bellies, trying to crawl up into our helmets. That’s what saved us some. I threw my arm over him to hold him down. I was afraid he was going to jump up and start running, and then it would be worse yet. The pain kind of went away enough, so he stayed down, and just about that time, the guy on the left got hit right through the wrist. A piece of shrapnel tore the whole thing all to pieces. And he went to jumping around and I pulled him down, too. And then the guy on my right got it again. Crushed his tail bone. Right on the butt. And I finally got everything calmed down, and all of a sudden, WHAP, a piece hit my helmet and knocked it right off. It had put a big dent in it, the darn helmet. Hadn’t been for that helmet, I wouldn’t be here.
...Anyway, it lasted about three hours and finally got over with and we got up and that was the worst bloody mess you ever seen. Out of 72 of us that were there, there were 14 of us left that were untouched again...And out of those guys, there were legs blowed off. One poor guy, they said, had both legs blowed off. He was still alive, and he asked if maybe they had a candy bar. We always carried a bunch of candy with us. And they gave him one and he ate that and he died, just like that. But it wasn’t only Americans, it was Germans, too, that were lying all dead there. So how many really got it, I don’t know.
Then came the chore of getting down from the mountain. The Germans told us that there was an aid station down there about two miles down the mountain. That we could take our wounded down there. A German aid station. Which may sound strange to you and everyone else I start telling about this. Here we are, fighting each other, and now we’re helping each other with our wounded. So we started down the mountain.
I took two guys, one on each side, to help them, and somebody says those guys can walk themselves pretty good yet. They were hit and everything - hurt - but they could still walk, so you better help on the stretcher. So from that time on, I started helping carry the stretchers down the mountain. So I made - that day we made four trips down the mountain. Carrying wounded down there. Then that night, we started back up again, but by that time the day had gone by and night time coming, so we had to go back up. We still had two left up there to bring down. They said, 'No, don’t go up, the artillery is coming in pretty heavy again. Wait till morning.' So we bedded down on that old floor in there. Must have been a marble floor at that doggone aid station they had there. Pretty big building. Anyway, that’s were we slept for the night.
...Sometimes there’d be two Germans and two Americans carrying a stretcher. It took four men to carry a stretcher. There might be a German on the stretcher, or an American on the stretcher. They helped us and we helped them. Just a crazy deal all the way through...On the way down, a doggone shell come in too close and the guy on the opposite side of the stretcher from me - he was a big, tall guy - a piece of shrapnel went by me and hit him in the leg and down he went. Knocked him out, so that left us now with only one guy up with him, and two guys carrying the stretcher down off the mountain. Then we finally got him down there and started to go back up for the last one when they told us to not go up. Artillery was coming. We had to wait till morning. So we waited. Went back up that morning. Out of the original 160 only 13 that were untouched, without a scratch.
...they took us away that following night on trucks. Took us into this building where we stayed overnight. There we were questioned one at a time. By this German officer. He could speak good English. They knew everything up there. He says to me, 'You are with the 168th Regiment, 34 Division, and you’re out of Company I. And your company commander is Lt. McMann.' And he was right all the way. He knew it all...after the questioning there, one plane came over and dropped a bomb right beside the building we were in. And we all hid under the tables, but it missed us.
The Garigliano River crossing January 1944
The Garigliano is fast-flowing and unfordable throughout its length, and near to its mouth both its width and its dangerous currents render it a difficult river to cross.
The Garigliano is fast-flowing and unfordable throughout its length, and near to its mouth both its width and its dangerous currents render it a difficult river to cross.
On 11 January 44, as part of Operation CUB, 168 Infantry Brigade, 56 Infantry Division, conducted an attack designed to push all Germans out of the near bank strong points along the river so as to allow the remainder of 56 Infantry Division to launch 167 Infantry Brigade and 169 Infantry Brigade across the river from a safe location. It was to be the first move in a new offensive to cross the river and capture Monte Damiano and Monte Castelluccio on the far side. 10 Berkshires had two objectives: Melba and Pudding. 1 London Scottish were to take Haybag - all prominent buildings.
After an initial bombardment, A Company 10 Berkshires advanced on Melba and D Company 10 Berkshires on Pudding. Despite some German defensive artillery fire, both Companies reached and secured their objectives. On their right, D Company 1 London Scottish captured Haybag but suffered so many casualties that only a single Platoon remained to hold it. As a result, it was recaptured by the Germans on 12 Jan 44 and had to be retaken by B Company 10 Berkshires that night. It was during the German counter-attack on 12 Jan 44 that Pte Thomas Robertson (see previous page, who was killed during the bombing and whose body was not found) was captured.
17 January
2 Royal Scots Fusiliers of 17 Brigade 5 British Division were to embark in DUKWs and land some 2000 yards behind the German lines west and south of the river. The attack was planned for 2100 hours, 17 January. Many DUKWs completely lost direction and the anti-tank guns, that later were so urgently needed, were landed back on the wrong side of the river. Betrayed by the phosphorescence of the sea, the first wave of infantry came under heavy shell fire 200 yards from the shore. By dawn the battalion had penetrated 1,000 yards but with heavy loss. 3135933 Fusilier Clarence Hederington, injured in the bombing of the train, was taken prisoner during this action, as was 3126252 Fusilier George Cheyne Thomson, killed in the bombing, buried at the site of the incident and recorded on the Cassino Memorial.
After an initial bombardment, A Company 10 Berkshires advanced on Melba and D Company 10 Berkshires on Pudding. Despite some German defensive artillery fire, both Companies reached and secured their objectives. On their right, D Company 1 London Scottish captured Haybag but suffered so many casualties that only a single Platoon remained to hold it. As a result, it was recaptured by the Germans on 12 Jan 44 and had to be retaken by B Company 10 Berkshires that night. It was during the German counter-attack on 12 Jan 44 that Pte Thomas Robertson (see previous page, who was killed during the bombing and whose body was not found) was captured.
17 January
2 Royal Scots Fusiliers of 17 Brigade 5 British Division were to embark in DUKWs and land some 2000 yards behind the German lines west and south of the river. The attack was planned for 2100 hours, 17 January. Many DUKWs completely lost direction and the anti-tank guns, that later were so urgently needed, were landed back on the wrong side of the river. Betrayed by the phosphorescence of the sea, the first wave of infantry came under heavy shell fire 200 yards from the shore. By dawn the battalion had penetrated 1,000 yards but with heavy loss. 3135933 Fusilier Clarence Hederington, injured in the bombing of the train, was taken prisoner during this action, as was 3126252 Fusilier George Cheyne Thomson, killed in the bombing, buried at the site of the incident and recorded on the Cassino Memorial.
6 Seaforth Highlanders were sent in after 2 Royal Scots Fusiliers. They were ferried across the river by the men of 2 Northamptonshire Regiment only to be greeted by machine gun fire, mortars and artillery shells. Their losses were very heavy and many prisoners were taken, including the thirty-nine men who later found themselves on the train. Of these, sixteen were killed outright: they are remembered on the War Memorial at Cassino. 2821672 Private James Pyott died of wounds in hospital at Orvieto and is buried in Bolsena War Cemetery. 5627315 Private Robert Marasi who after being admitted to hospital in Ovieto was transferred to the civil hospital in Mantua, where he died on 11 August 1944. He is buried in Padua War Cemetery. Twenty-one men, some of whom had been recaptured and others who had been discharged from the hospital in Orvieto, were sent on to camps in Germany.
13 Brigade, to the right of 5 Division, crossed the Garigliano near the railway to the south-east of Minturno, one of these crossings achieving complete surprise. By 0800 hours 2 Wiltshires were through the village of Tufo but after a sharp counter-attack had to withdraw to high ground to the east. 5568468 Corporal Hubert Frank Draper, who died of wounds in hospital in Orvieto and is buried in Bolsena War Cemetery, was captured during this action, as was 53430084 Private Jack Futter, also admitted to hospital in Orvieto and later sent to Stalag 344, Lamsdorf, Poland. 2 Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers, advancing behind a barrage put down by the Royal Artillery, cleared the German positions with the bayonet, and an important salient was captured to the east of Tufo. 19-year-old 14312963 Fusilier Albert John Patrick, fatally injured in the bombing and buried at Bolsena, was taken prisoner during this action.
Crossing the river behind a heavy artillery barrage, 56 Division took over the advance. The men of 169 Infantry Brigade were given the task of attacking the enemy positions on the opposing bank. Unlike the regiments on their left flank, and despite the fact that the river level was high and they were crammed into small boats, they reached the other side relatively safely and formed up ready to advance. However, given that they were laden with heavy equipment, and that they were facing cold, wet conditions, the going was slow and men were taken prisoner. Amongst them was 14350406 Private William A. Robertson, of 2/7 Battalion, The Queen’s Royal (West Surrey) Regiment, who was admitted to Orvieto hospital with bruising to his left leg. He escaped from the hospital only to be recaptured on 24 February and sent on to Stalag IVB, Mühlberg/Elbe, Brandenburg, Germany.
4128905 Staff/Sergeant Joseph Barratt, 6 Cheshire Regiment, 56 Division, who suffered bruising to his chest whilst escaping from the train, was also admitted to hospital at Orvieto, from where he was sent on to Stalag 344 Lamsdorf, Poland. His wife received notification of his detention only on 21 February 1944. Tony Barratt, his son, reports that during the action in which his father was taken prisoner the commanding officer had his head blown off, his father then assumed command and was debating the best course of action (to wave the white flag or run) when the Germans captured them
13 Brigade, to the right of 5 Division, crossed the Garigliano near the railway to the south-east of Minturno, one of these crossings achieving complete surprise. By 0800 hours 2 Wiltshires were through the village of Tufo but after a sharp counter-attack had to withdraw to high ground to the east. 5568468 Corporal Hubert Frank Draper, who died of wounds in hospital in Orvieto and is buried in Bolsena War Cemetery, was captured during this action, as was 53430084 Private Jack Futter, also admitted to hospital in Orvieto and later sent to Stalag 344, Lamsdorf, Poland. 2 Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers, advancing behind a barrage put down by the Royal Artillery, cleared the German positions with the bayonet, and an important salient was captured to the east of Tufo. 19-year-old 14312963 Fusilier Albert John Patrick, fatally injured in the bombing and buried at Bolsena, was taken prisoner during this action.
Crossing the river behind a heavy artillery barrage, 56 Division took over the advance. The men of 169 Infantry Brigade were given the task of attacking the enemy positions on the opposing bank. Unlike the regiments on their left flank, and despite the fact that the river level was high and they were crammed into small boats, they reached the other side relatively safely and formed up ready to advance. However, given that they were laden with heavy equipment, and that they were facing cold, wet conditions, the going was slow and men were taken prisoner. Amongst them was 14350406 Private William A. Robertson, of 2/7 Battalion, The Queen’s Royal (West Surrey) Regiment, who was admitted to Orvieto hospital with bruising to his left leg. He escaped from the hospital only to be recaptured on 24 February and sent on to Stalag IVB, Mühlberg/Elbe, Brandenburg, Germany.
4128905 Staff/Sergeant Joseph Barratt, 6 Cheshire Regiment, 56 Division, who suffered bruising to his chest whilst escaping from the train, was also admitted to hospital at Orvieto, from where he was sent on to Stalag 344 Lamsdorf, Poland. His wife received notification of his detention only on 21 February 1944. Tony Barratt, his son, reports that during the action in which his father was taken prisoner the commanding officer had his head blown off, his father then assumed command and was debating the best course of action (to wave the white flag or run) when the Germans captured them
In the early hours of 22 January all companies of 6 York and Lancaster Regiment, 46 Division, were in area 8990 (See above map). The enemy launced at counter-attack and the "Bn. takes up a defensive posn to hold at all costs". At 0400 hrs C Coy takes up defensive posns 889990. Patrol- no contact."
It was during this action that four privates were taken prisoner - 4744156 Pte. Francis Horace Harston, 5735434 Pte. Joseph Minchella, 7677972 Pte. Clifford Ogden and 6211898 Pte. Frederick J. Ellis. All four were taken to Orvieto Hospital - Pte. Minchella with a scalp wound,Pte. Ogden with a wound to left ear and a wound to left hand,Pte. Ellis with bruising and multiple abrasions and Pte. Harston with wounds which proved fatal. He was temporarily buried in Orvieto civil Cemetery before being transferred to Bolsena War Cemetery on 25 April 1945.
It was during this action that four privates were taken prisoner - 4744156 Pte. Francis Horace Harston, 5735434 Pte. Joseph Minchella, 7677972 Pte. Clifford Ogden and 6211898 Pte. Frederick J. Ellis. All four were taken to Orvieto Hospital - Pte. Minchella with a scalp wound,Pte. Ogden with a wound to left ear and a wound to left hand,Pte. Ellis with bruising and multiple abrasions and Pte. Harston with wounds which proved fatal. He was temporarily buried in Orvieto civil Cemetery before being transferred to Bolsena War Cemetery on 25 April 1945.
At Sea
HMS Saracen
The frequently calm and often glassily clear Mediterranean waters, the constant hostile air cover and increasing enemy tactical proficiency made for many British Submarine casualties in the Mediterranean theatre, and on August 14th 1943, Saracen's luck ran out. Spotted by the Italian corvettes Minerva and Euterpe off Bastia, Corsica, she was depth charged to the surface, damaged beyond recovery. Her crew abandoned ship and scuttled the boat in position 42º45'N, 09º30'E.
The captain, Lt. Michael Geoffrey Rawson Lumby, DSO, DSC, RN, tells the story of what happened
...I decided we were on a losing game. Hands were ordered to muster in the control room with DSEA (emergency escape apparatus for submarine crews). Sadly many burst on being inflated. I suppose 12 months in the Mediterranean had caused them to perish. Those without DSEA were told to hold on to men with DSEA when they got into the sea. Everyone was told to gather on the casing and jump into the sea together when the main vents were opened. The order to surface was given at 400 ft. It seemed to take a very long time and a lot of HP (High Pressure) air before the depth-gauges started moving in the right direction. Once started the gauges moved very fast.
HMS Saracen /P 247 Summary of Service 1940-3 S8952
Able Seaman Arthur Ross Pinnell DSM, Able Seaman Arthur Melling, Petty Officer Leonard C. Roberts DSM, Stoker George A. Freer and A/Petty Officer Stoker Thomas H. Barber all escaped from the submarine as did Kenneth Hutchings, DSM, who recalled that
We had great difficulty in keeping our trim and depth. Due to efforts of our Captain we managed to surface. As the submarines was in no condition to proceed as a fighting unit, the Captain ordered abandon ship. Before leaving, the Captain ordered me to open all the main vents. The motors were still running as we left the control room and went up the conning tower to leap into the sea. The Saracen continued to run a short distance before she took her last dive. The Italians treated us very well and gave us brandy, cigarettes, and blankets.
From www.rnsubs.co.uk and www.uboat.net
Stoker Edward Metcalfe recalled the severe damage to the pressure hull in the after ends and the WT door being shut, also the severe angle the submarine took and later the 1st Lt. poised on the ladder to leap up and open the upper hatch as soon as the submarine surfaced, followed by the crew. Metcalfe also recalled arriving up on the bridge and finding the night illuminated by tracer and later having 20 mm shrapnel picked out of him by the Italians.
From www.rnsubs.co.uk and www.uboat.net
Two crew members were lost
Lt. Lumby reported that
I very much regret that I have no knowledge of the circumstances surrounding the drowning of Stoker Petty Officer Ward and Able Seaman Downey both of whom were seen on the casing and never seen again....Signalman Brocklehurst, a non-swimmer whose DSEA set proved to be defective, owes his life to P.O. Tel. Read and Tel. Hibbert, who supported him until picked up by the Italians.
HMS Saracen /P 247 Summary of Service 1940-3 S8952
HMS Saracen
The frequently calm and often glassily clear Mediterranean waters, the constant hostile air cover and increasing enemy tactical proficiency made for many British Submarine casualties in the Mediterranean theatre, and on August 14th 1943, Saracen's luck ran out. Spotted by the Italian corvettes Minerva and Euterpe off Bastia, Corsica, she was depth charged to the surface, damaged beyond recovery. Her crew abandoned ship and scuttled the boat in position 42º45'N, 09º30'E.
The captain, Lt. Michael Geoffrey Rawson Lumby, DSO, DSC, RN, tells the story of what happened
...I decided we were on a losing game. Hands were ordered to muster in the control room with DSEA (emergency escape apparatus for submarine crews). Sadly many burst on being inflated. I suppose 12 months in the Mediterranean had caused them to perish. Those without DSEA were told to hold on to men with DSEA when they got into the sea. Everyone was told to gather on the casing and jump into the sea together when the main vents were opened. The order to surface was given at 400 ft. It seemed to take a very long time and a lot of HP (High Pressure) air before the depth-gauges started moving in the right direction. Once started the gauges moved very fast.
HMS Saracen /P 247 Summary of Service 1940-3 S8952
Able Seaman Arthur Ross Pinnell DSM, Able Seaman Arthur Melling, Petty Officer Leonard C. Roberts DSM, Stoker George A. Freer and A/Petty Officer Stoker Thomas H. Barber all escaped from the submarine as did Kenneth Hutchings, DSM, who recalled that
We had great difficulty in keeping our trim and depth. Due to efforts of our Captain we managed to surface. As the submarines was in no condition to proceed as a fighting unit, the Captain ordered abandon ship. Before leaving, the Captain ordered me to open all the main vents. The motors were still running as we left the control room and went up the conning tower to leap into the sea. The Saracen continued to run a short distance before she took her last dive. The Italians treated us very well and gave us brandy, cigarettes, and blankets.
From www.rnsubs.co.uk and www.uboat.net
Stoker Edward Metcalfe recalled the severe damage to the pressure hull in the after ends and the WT door being shut, also the severe angle the submarine took and later the 1st Lt. poised on the ladder to leap up and open the upper hatch as soon as the submarine surfaced, followed by the crew. Metcalfe also recalled arriving up on the bridge and finding the night illuminated by tracer and later having 20 mm shrapnel picked out of him by the Italians.
From www.rnsubs.co.uk and www.uboat.net
Two crew members were lost
Lt. Lumby reported that
I very much regret that I have no knowledge of the circumstances surrounding the drowning of Stoker Petty Officer Ward and Able Seaman Downey both of whom were seen on the casing and never seen again....Signalman Brocklehurst, a non-swimmer whose DSEA set proved to be defective, owes his life to P.O. Tel. Read and Tel. Hibbert, who supported him until picked up by the Italians.
HMS Saracen /P 247 Summary of Service 1940-3 S8952
THE CAMPS
The Armistice. 8 September 1943
The Armistice 8 September 1943 On this date the Italian Armistice, signed a week earlier at Cassabile in Sicily, came into effect. British prisoners of war received what now seems to be a strange instruction, namely that they were to remain where they were until the arrival of the Allied troops, who had just invaded Calabria and were about to land at Salerno. Many of them ignored this instruction, escaping from, or sometimes even walking out of, the prisoner-of-war camp in which they had been detained. They then faced the dilemma of either trying to rejoin the Allied troops by walking south, trying to cross the northern border into Switzerland or staying hidden until the the front arrived. Some reached their objective but many were recaptured. Amongst them were 7895023 Private Bill Blewitt 1 Sherwood Foresters (201 Guards Brigade), 3908767 Corporal Bill Marsh 1 South Wales Borderers, C/JX.160639 Able Seaman Arthur Ross Pinnell and D/JX.302102 Able Seaman Arthur Melling, both of HMS Saracen, 27677 Private N. Stanley Wainer Royal Natal Carbineers and 84050 Sergeant Robert J. Maddern, both of Union Defence Force South Africa.
Bill Blewitt had been captured near Gazala, Libya in June 1942 after which had had been imprisoned in Suani Ben Adam camp until November of that year. He was transported to Italy, and spent time in PG 66 Capua (November-December 1942), PG 53 Sforzacosta near Macerata (December 1942-June 1943) and near Verona working on a farm (PG148V June- September 1943). He escaped after the Armistice but was recaptured and sent to Fara in Sabina. Bill recounts that the prisoners in his new hut were split into three distinct groups: the Squatters, prisoners who had escaped at the time of the Armistice and who had lodged with Italian families waiting until the front line passed them by, the Alpinis, the men who had escaped on several occasions and who had been recaptured, and lastly the newly-captured prisoners.
The Squatters tell their story...
27677 Private N. Stanley Wainer
Royal Natal Carbineers Union Defence Force SA
Then came the Allied invasion and the Italian surrender early in September, 1943. It was a day when the Italian guards left the camp's perimeter and gathered at the gates and guardhouse, persuading one another to leave for home, as the armistice terms allowed. In the camp somebody bright and bold produced a pair of pliers and cut through the wire fences below. Hundreds streamed through the gap, but only a handful made the right decision on what was the wisest course of action to follow. Those few walked cross-country to the south and in two weeks reached Allied forces. They shrewdly surmised that the Germans had not yet formed a complete defence line across Italy. But ninety-nine percent of the camp's former inmates clung to the strong rumour disseminated the previous week by the guards, that the Allies would land at Pisa in the north within days. So like hundreds of others, Vere and I felt it was sensible to make for the woods and hills and await developments. Before the month ended the Germans would have retreated beyond the river Po...
On the hillsides and in the valleys were patches of wheat, broad beans and potatoes. Small farmsteads stood here and there. Villages of stone houses clustered solidly on the hilltops. Near the habitations were little vineyards and plots of olive trees, with apple and pear, cherry and almond, growing in tiny walled orchards. During the first few days we skulked with a few others along a stream's banks, picking wild hazel nuts by the score. At night we sneaked into orchards and vineyards, filled up on fruit, then retired to the woods to sleep. There were occasional shots echoing about during daylight and a couple of POWs came into our part of the woods in a hurry, declaring that the Jerries were rounding up escapers in considerable numbers.
Then the hue and cry faded. With two other South Africans we moved out to the little fields during the day to contact villagers for news and a meal, often meeting other small groups of South Africans or Tommies doing the same thing. The Italians, especially the women, were kindly and helpful. They often dyed our woollen jackets and pants which the Red Cross had supplied. A brown jacket handed over in the morning was returned jet black in the afternoon. On the day following pants were taken by one of their menfolk and returned the same sombre civilian-looking colour as the jacket, with someone's old cap supplied as well.
Even the weather was kind to us that autumn, with the days clear and warm. With two Cape Town Highlanders Vere and I stayed in an old shepherd's hut near a hillock covered by shrubs and scattered trees, and topped by an old Roman granary where a couple of chaps lived among the ruins. At the bottom of the hill ran a stream where another group stayed in a cave above its bank. So confident were Italians and POW alike in an Allied landing to the north that everyone wandered about without thought of German patrols. Food was often brought to us by the peasant folk. One of the daughters and a niece of our chief benefactor sometimes carried it and spent a while chatting, mostly to Vere, who was a good-looking chap with a friendly smile.
Then Churchill upset the peace. He had heard of the mass walk-outs from some of the camps, and being a man of bold action he presumed all others were much the same in heart. Over the BBC he broadcast a message to 'evaders', urging them to sabotage and disrupt. This galvanised the Germans into a gathering-up campaign, and in all the country areas where they had not bothered much they carried out intensive searching. Warnings went out and POWs scattered and lay low. We left the hut, the Cape Town Highlanders pair went to the woods, Vere and I moved into the scrub below the granary. We slept beneath a sandstone overhang hidden by bushes. Most days our Italian friends left a little food for us at a prearranged spot... It was more pleasant in the sunlight than the shade. There was a small grassy patch on the shrub-covered hillock where we drowsed and daydreamed. Until the afternoon when a 'Raus' put an end to it all, and a pair of Jerries with pointed rifles got us to our feet and set us walking in a depressed state along footpaths and lanes back to Camp 54. In the camp was a crowd of recaptured POWs, a number in dyed black outfits, and some in rough peasant garb, which the Germans never complained about, unless an individual swore he was Italian. This pretence was soon uncovered by an interpreter who was invariably a Fascist, and the consequence was unpleasant. There were also in the camp numbers of American infantrymen captured at Kasserine Ridge in Tunisia, British 'from Salerno', recaptured SA blacks 'from Tobruk'.
3908767 Corporal Bill Marsh
1 South Wales Borderers
I remained in this camp from March 1943 until September that year, when we were told that the Italians had given up fighting on the side of the Germans. When we saw our guards leaving us we saw this as our chance, and we decided to make a bid for freedom before anything else could happen. Our officers told us to make for the hills and remain until our own troops arrived. This we did but after waiting in the hills for months most of the chaps moved on leaving only a few behind. I was one of the few who remained behind with two companions, Sergeant Price and Private Vince Read. We stayed in a shed at night which housed some sheep but at dawn we moved higher into the hills. This was at a place called Percile, in the Province of Rome.
I was the only one out of the three who could speak any Italian. This I learned while in hospital in Rome and found it came in very useful when I had to go down to the village of Percile to get some food. At the same time I managed to get some old civilian clothes for myself, consisting of mostly patches, but they were better than being in military uniform.
One morning I awoke to find that 'Posh' - the nickname for Sergeant Price - was ill. Neither Private Read nor myself could make out what was wrong with him. We tried to wake him but got no answer - he just stared at us. We put cold water on his forehead and he muttered something. I could see he was badly ill.
I told Private Read to stay with him while I ran down to the village which was about four miles away. On reaching the village, I made sure no Germans were there then I asked for a doctor. I was directed to a house where I was given some Cognac. I was asked what the trouble was by the people of the village and soon they were following me back up to the hills with bits of clothing, warm food and drinks. After a few days of nursing he began to improve, but we were still in danger of being recaptured. By Christmas 1943 'Posh' had made some recovery from his illness, and although he was still feeling weak we were able to shift him from this shed during the day and return at night.
On 25 January 1944 I was making my way out of the shed early in the morning when I came face to face with a German. Using my knowledge of Italian I greeted him with 'Buon Giorno' (Good Morning) and passed on by. To my surprise the place was surrounded by them. We had been given away by an Italian spy who was working for the Germans. We knew him as Alfredo, and we had been warned about him by his fiancée! However, it was too late and we were captured once again. We were taken back to Fara in Sabina PG 54, the camp I was in before. We were only there for a short while as with about 900 others we were soon placed on a train - this time we were going to Germany.
According to Chief Engine Room Artificer F. W. Hine, who set off with Arthur Melling, Saracen's crew were led out of the camp at Manziana by Capitano Cuneo, the Italian Camp Commander.
D/JX.302102 Able Seaman Arthur Melling
HMS Saracen
I escaped from there.. the coxswain took a course as if he was at sea, up hill and down dale, across streams etc. A few of us decided to try going from village to village using the secondary roads. Occasionally we met up with an Italian who could speak good English. I decided to ask one of these men to help me with the language.
'We are English. Please could you give us a little food?' 'How far to the next village?' 'Any Germans about?'
I studied and in time I could not only speak not too badly but could also understand the Italians.
When we escaped we had a type of uniform I thought was the Italian desert uniform. I managed to exchange mine for a pair of rough trousers and a jacket. We did not have any trouble in getting to Rieti. Some of our group including townie Frank Sheppard decided to stay in the village and await our troops. I think the name of the village was Borgetto. I along with Whitehead, Miseldene and Francis Hine (Engine Room Artificer) pushed on until we arrived at the road that went from Rome to Pescara on the east coast. We decided not to cross the road as there was more German activity in that direction. We foraged for food in the villages of Collalto Sabina, Nespolo, Orvinio, Collegiove and others - I forget their names. We stayed in outbuildings outside or on the perimeter of the villages for obvious reasons. Sometimes you would be woken by rats squealing. The buildings usually were used for storing the stalks of the maize after they had taken the corn from them. One got used to them after a while, the rats squealing during the night.
On the day the Germans entered the village... I got out of the building we had been using and and decided to hide in some dense bushes overlooking our place. It started to rain. The Germans with an officer came to the building... the officer must have thought we could be hiding under the stalks of the maize. He shouted, 'Come out,' then after no response ordered one of the men to shoot into the stalks. After a few minutes they departed.
Arthur then started to make his way from the settlement. He met another man who had also been fortunate enough to avoid capture, but after they had covered only a short distance they ran into some German troops. Arthur told the soldiers in Italian that he was going to tend his sheep, but they didn't believe him and forced the two men to accompany them back to the village. Arthur thought quickly, and bidding them good day walked into the first house as though it were his own. Fortunately no one was present and so after waiting for a short time he set off again.
Just when I thought how lucky I had been I met another two soldiers a few hundred yards away coming into the village. I entered the first house I came to but this time I was not so lucky: a woman was inside and she screamed. I told her to be quiet. If the Germans took me prisoner I would tell them she had helped me. I said she had nothing to fear from me. She understood. I thanked God and made my way to God knows where. About a mile outside the village I met another guy the same as myself. He had not been in the village and did not know what had happened. He thought something was amiss as two of his mates had not returned. I explained who I was. He was Irish and said his name was John Atkins.1 He showed me a photo taken in a POW camp with a group of other POWs and I believed him. We decided to go some distance from this village.
I had a picture of a village church... so I went into this village and met the priest and asked for help. He told me to go across the road and say he had sent me. They gave us food and were willing to put us up in the house. I thanked them but said we would rather be outside the village. They said they had a small plot of land with a shed that would be shelter but was rough. We could not believe our luck. There were fruit trees and vegetables, it was great. Each day the daughter, a big lass with a big heart, brought us bread with olive oil and a little salt. One got used to it. The lass used to go into the forest close by to chop wood for their fire. The forest was of chestnut trees and while we stayed there it was time for picking... It was explained to me that the forest belonged to the church and the people who collected chestnuts were allowed a percentage of what they gathered.
Arthur and Johnnie gathered chestnuts and gave them to the family.
We were pleased to repay them a little for their kindness. It was also a change in our diet for a few weeks... We used to get the news about how the war was going on. When they landed at Anzio beach it seemed it would be over very quickly in Italy. The Germans pulled back (from where we were) but they soon came back when it turned out it was not an all-out attack. It seemed as though this would not happen until the second front got under way. One morning we were awakened by someone to tell us the Germans were in the village. This was bad news. We did not want to be caught in the shed. We knew from past experience that they would have surrounded the whole place. We took a chance and dropped down on a footpath right into a group of Germans. An officer had to restrain one of them who told us his family had been killed in an air raid. All I could say was, 'This is war.' We were taken to the village and from there to a large POW camp just outside of Rome called Fara in Sabina. There were a lot of Yanks... South Africans…The next day a large number of us were taken to a railway station and put in a wagon...
C/JX.160639 Able Seaman Arthur Ross Pinnell
HMS Saracen
Able Seaman Pinnell's daughter says:
My father and another seaman, nicknamed 'Hutch', set off together. They were in danger of running into German troops, and although most Italians were glad to see the back of the Mussolini regime and gave help and support to Allied prisoners, they had to be wary of Fascist sympathisers among the population who would hand them over to the Germans and possibly inform on those who helped them. He and Hutch tracked through the mountains for three days before arriving at the Benedictine monastery at Farfa.
The monks hid them in the monastery and fed them. My father shared a room with a Russian professor. Neither could speak theother’s language but they communicated in French and played chess to pass the time... After a few weeks he and Hutch, the Russian professor and a Scottish priest they had met there decided to leave the monastery and try to make their way towards Monte Cassino... On their first evening they were met by a young man whose uncle, Fernando Savioli, agreed to take them in. The uncle persuaded them that it would be impossible to get any further and the professor and the priest went back to the monastery. However, a few weeks later my father and Hutch decided to move on. They reached a village where they begged for food and were again given help. Despite this, shortly after Christmas 1943 German troops surrounded the village and he was recaptured.
The 'Alpinis'
7895023 Private Bill Blewitt
1 Sherwood Foresters (201st Guards Brigade)
Fara in Sabina, or camp PG 54, as it was known before the Armistice, was now being used by the Germans as a transit camp for newly-captured prisoners from the Italian front, and also for escapers... who had been unlucky enough to be recaptured. On arrival, and after being further interrogated... I was escorted to one of the huts, and as I approached I thought I had never seen such a motley crowd of prisoners. My new comrades were a mixed bag all right! Those who had been captured for the first time were of course still in uniform whilst most of the others, like me, were dressed in ragged peasant garb. A small number were dressed in decent clothing, and they really looked out of place. I introduced myself and, after being asked a number of extremely searching questions, discovered that quite a number of those present had been originally captured in the desert, and some had even been in the same camps as I had, including Suani Ben Adem... Having walked through the Apennines I was invited to link up with the Alpinis, and I was very proud to do so. Tales of escape and attempted escape were commonplace with this group, and we even had our own song! Sung in a mixture of English and Italian, to the tune or the 'Ovaltinies', it went something like:
'We are the old Alpinis, merry mountaineers,
To cross front we all intended
But Tedeschi came an' prendered,
Now we're back behind the wire feeling molto fam,
The Hun gives us mangiare niente, how we miss the old polenta,
Scappare via ancora ma stare attenta,
Up the mountaineers.'
Roughly translated, it meant that we, the Alpinis, intended getting through to the front line, but were taken (prendered) by the Germans (Tedeschi). We are now back in a prison camp, feeling very hungry (molto fame), because the Hun gives us nothing to eat (mangiare niente), and we miss very much even the Indian corn (polenta). Now we must escape again, but this time be more careful (Scappare via ma stare attenta). Up the mountaineers!
It did not take long for me to settle down again into the old prison camp routine. Old escapers were not allowed to do any work outside the wire, and fatigues like working in the German cookhouse were barred to us, so we missed out on any extra rations that might be going. Because of the very poor rations we received this was a real hardship, but worse than being hungry all the time was the fact that our movements were so restricted that we had little chance of looking for possible means of escape, and this was almost the sole aim of those who had already tasted freedom. On one occasion I did manage to get outside the wire by reporting sick, but, when I began to wander away from the sick queue, pretending to be an Italian civilian, I was very quickly pulled up by the guard. However, my time on sick parade was not entirely wasted, because the treatment I received for crabs and lice from the German medical orderly completely rid me of those horrible vermin, and I was never again bothered with them for the rest of my time behind the lines.
Newly-captured prisoners were being brought into the camp on a daily basis; the Germans would keep them separate from the rest of us until after they had been interrogated. Initially, they would be confined to a particular hut, and once the interrogation was over they would then be distributed throughout the camp. Being taken prisoner is a numbing experience, and it is some time before reality finally sinks in. This was clearly demonstrated one day when I climbed to look through a window where a number of new prisoners were being kept prior to interrogation. Poking my head through the window, I called out and asked if there were any Geordies among them; in reply a tired looking young soldier with a faraway look in his eyes muttered, 'No mate, we're all English in here.' As it happened, there were some Geordies in this new batch of prisoners, and after they had been interrogated a number of them were allocated to the same hut as myself. I teamed up with one of them, Arthur Gibson2 from the west end of Newcastle, and he and I were to become firm friends.
As well as new prisoners more and more escapers were being apprehended and brought to the camp, and as the numbers increased it became obvious that a move to Germany was imminent. Not only were the Germans transporting prisoners, they were also shipping anything of value to the Fatherland, and so Italian workmen, under supervision of the guards, were actually dismantling the camp piece by piece for eventual shipment to Germany. One day one of the workmen left his tool bag unattended for a few minutes and this, of course, was a direct challenge to us prisoners.
In those few short minutes the tools were taken from the bag and quickly hidden away. To his credit the Italian did not report the theft immediately, but when the Germans eventually found out they threatened us with almost every punishment imaginable. However the tools were never found, and after a few days the incident was soon forgotten. I don't believe the workman was punished either, as he continued to work in the camp. My share of the haul was a hacksaw from which I removed the blade and hid it on my person.
4386573 Private George Mason
3 Green Howards
My first experience of freedom came three days after the capitulation of Italy. 11th of September 1943. Camp PG 54 Fara Sabina. The Italian guards left the camp, and we were left to do as we pleased. Fellows began to group themselves together, leaving the camp, taking with them any Red Cross foodstuff they had left. I left with a party of twelve, with a Sgt. Jamieson East Yorks Regiment taking charge. Germans soon started to look for us when finding only the sick left in the camp. We marched for three days through the hills, then found a cave where we stayed, it was positioned 5 km south of a village, Monte Flavio.
Our party soon got smaller, different pairs of us had to go to the village at dark to beg bread, and Gerry patrolled around roads and the village. This Sgt. Jamieson left with two of the fellows to try to get further down towards the line. A few days later 3 more were picked up around the village by the Gerries. The remainder of us stayed in this cave for about seven weeks thinking that our troops were advancing fast. I was taken by three Germans while entering the village, it was the back end of October or early November. They had some more of our fellows they had rounded up, and took us by trucks to Tivoli. We spent one night there and were then taken to a sea port base west of Rome. (Civitavecchia- author's note) They had nearly 500 POWs they had rounded up. Two days later we were entrained 45 to each wagon for Germany. The wagons were locked from the outside first with the ordinary wagon bolts, and the German guards had a wagon about the centre of the train and one in the rear.
Although we were searched, some of the fellows had knives, pliers and files with them, smuggled on the train in water bottles. The train had only been travelling an hour and the boys had had hole cut through the door, enough to put his (a) hand through and lift the bolts up. The train could not be (have been ) travelling any more than ten miles per hour when the first man jumped. There was a step below the door. I jumped second, rolled a bit but did not hurt myself. I remained on my own and made back for the cave. I reached it after five days and found only two of the fellows left. The three of us travelled further south and stayed a while at a village called Meta in a valley. (The Roveto Valley – author's note)
Myself and Private E. Clark 5 Green Howards stayed in a shed which was owned by an Italian named Antonio Lazzari, Civitella Roveto, Province of Aquila. He brought us food. We lived there for about five weeks and had to leave because of Fascists who were paid by the Germans to search for us. Clark and myself made for the German Line in the central sector and were picked up by two Germans who were patrolling the mountains dressed in white trousers and coats, the 17th December 1943. We were taken to Frosinone and from there back to Fara Sabina.
84050 Sergeant Robert J. Maddern
Union Defence Force SA
Sergeant Maddern's second stay in Camp PG 54 Fara in Sabina was very brief. He had already escaped from captivity there, presumably after the armistice on 8 September.
On 20 Jan. 1944 I was recaptured by a German patrol whilst attempting to reach our lines south of Frosinone... Being placed in solitary confinement, escape for the time being impossible, after a few days in a collection camp near Rome, I among 800 Allied POWs freshly taken, were shifted by rail, our intended destination Germany.
The newly-captured prisoners
Richard Morris, Robert Calvey, Green 'Duke' Cox and Russel Kurzhal had all come from a former Italian Army garrison post in Frosinone, a town half way between Cassino and the outskirts of Rome, where the majority of the inmates had been captured at Tobruk in the summer of 1942.
20838320 Staff Sergeant Richard A. Morris
Company C 157 Regiment 45 Infantry Divison US Army
Staff Sergeant Morris talks about Frosinone and also about D/JX.143367 Petty Officer Leonard C Roberts and C/KX.99634 Stoker 1st Class George A Freer of the Saracen.
The majority of the inmates were British... in addition to the English one could see South African whites, New Zealanders, and Indians, Sikhs and Hindus. For the first time I saw Gurkhas whom the British soldiers called 'Johnny Gurkha' out of admiration for their legendary fighting qualities. Among the English were two sailors whose submarine had been sunk... one was 'Len, the P.O.' and the other was 'Little George'. Len was tall, with light brown hair, and lean, a man of quiet dignity, in his mid 30s. Len spoke with the calm self-assurance of one whose orders were obeyed without question. In his relations with our captors and other prisoners Len was obsessed with justice and fairness.
George was short, blond, very muscular. He had been a professional boxer before the war. He must have been very good or his opponents very bad; his face did not bear the scars of pugilistic wars. It was hard to think of George as a fighter; he was unflaggingly cheerful. Whenever one heard, 'Let's have a sing-song, mates,' the request came most likely from 'Little George.' However, George was never able to generate much enthusiasm among the men for singing 'The Red Flag', the anthem of his beloved 'Lyebor' Party.
The leader among the prisoners was a middle-aged master sergeant from South Africa, an Afrikaner. He had his reservations about England and its imperial policies, but he was a volunteer like all the South Africans. He had fought in World War I, and here he was engaged again in World War II. Freed at the time of the Italian Armistice in September, he and several others were recaptured by a German patrol in no-man's land a few 100 yards from Allied lines. The English prisoners considered him too lenient in dealing with the Germans about conditions in the camp. 'I know how to deal with Gerry,' he would say. Nevertheless, a majority of the prisoners wanted a more militant stance, and they elected Len the P.O. as our camp leader. 'There are always more of you English,' the old fellow sighed grudgingly. Len seemed embarrassed by the situation, but he accepted his duties earnestly, as we would find out quite soon. His first complaint was the lack of food for the prisoners, reminding Nugget Mouth4 of the Geneva Convention and citing the better treatment which the German prisoners received at the hands of the Allies.
On Christmas Day Len invited John and me to a private celebration attended by Little George and four New Zealanders, the 'Kiwis'. The others had 'pinched some real grub' while working at the German air strip and had saved it for this day... A commotion out in the courtyard caught our attention. Oranges and pastries showered into the ,prisoners' courtyard from the guards' quarters above. Hungry prisoners scurried about in pursuit of goodies while the Germans enjoyed the spectacle from the floors above. Len was livid with indignation; he rushed out into the yard and screamed, 'Stop this! All of you! You are hungry, but you are still men, not whores, not monkeys in a zoo'
He demanded an immediate meeting with Nugget Mouth. If the German soldiers wished to contribute food to their prisoners for Christmas, let them put it all together so that it might be shared equally. If they did not wish to do so, let them continue starving their prisoners without degrading them further. The Germans agreed, and the extra rations were pooled and shared by all. Voting for Len as camp leader was my wisest electoral decision.
Len's disputes with the German authorities put a strain on the German sergeant who served as the camp interpreter, a husky, blond six-footer with a calm demeanor. The sergeant sensed the justice of Len's complaints, but it was difficult for him to convey Len's righteous anger to Nugget Mouth diplomatically. At every complaint, the sergeant listened attentively, then the fair skin of his flat, moon-shaped face flushed to his widow's peak as he seemed to ask himself, 'How am I convey this problem to the commander soothingly?'
One evening in the common room Len offered me the rest of his evening meal. He had worked and eaten out at the air strip; now he felt someone less fortunate should get more to eat. I had not eaten real food for so long that I would have devoured a K ration dinner: the cheese, the lemonade powder, the morale pills and the dog biscuits. However, I was not yet ready to eat from another person's cup. I declined politely. Len mistook my squeamishness for nobility. He remarked over and over again that he had never seen a prisoner refuse food. Two days later he got me a place on the work crew which left the prison to work at the German air strip
A soldier from the 34 Division, whose nickname was Apple Jack, had a habit of saving his evening bread for coffee the following morning. Jack then cut the bread in smaller pieces and toasted them one by one over the fire. Apple Jack was the object of envy on the part of the rest of us who did not have his willpower. In civilian life his wife served him nothing but steak and potatoes. If he and his wife were invited to dine at the home of a friend, Jack pushed aside any vegetables placed before him. One morning Apple Jack threw a tantrum; somebody had stolen his bread while he was away getting his morning coffee.
Theft among prisoners of war is a serious matter, and Len conducted an immediate investigation. When the guilty individual, an Englishman, was discovered, Len ordered him beaten about the face by Little George, the former professional boxer. Then, for a week the man had to poke the excrement back down into the holes from where it was seeping in the latrine. George felt so guilty about administering the physical punishment that he could not bear looking at the man. But Len was stern and unwavering; the unity among the prisoners had to be maintained.
Staff Sergeant Morris tells of the move to Camp PG 54 Fara in Sabina, which took place in early January 1944
Gruff shouts of 'Raus! Raus!' awakened us in the middle of the night. Still benumbed by a somnolent state, my fuzzy head finally grasped that what the guards were shouting with such impatience meant 'out'. We were herded onto trucks which sped off in the darkness. There was no time to ask oneself if all personal possessions had been assembled before our swift departure, but by this time few possessions remained.
When the first light of day came, a low bank of clouds ensured that our convoy's movement would be shielded from Allied aerial observers... Each truck had only one guard, armed with a rifle. By concerted action we could have overpowered the single guard and separated him from his rifle. The unlikelihood of further success beyond that point discouraged such foolhardy risks. We would be seen by other guards and drivers, and it was unwise to jump from a vehicle moving at about 45 miles an hour...
Guard towers and fences came into view; this grim, inhospitable place was our destination. The outer fence stood some 12 to 15 feet high, topped by a barbed wire apron. Every 40 yards a guard tower rose above the fence. Ten yards inside this fence stood an identical barrier without guard towers. Five yards inside this second fence a single strand of barbed wire, painted white, was strung above the ground. Any prisoner who stepped inside this single strand of wire was to be shot immediately. That five yard area was a 'death zone'.
Flimsy, one-storey sheds were our new barracks. Inside were two-tier wooden bunks which had slats to support the mattress, a large bag filled with lice-infested straw... The vilest site in the camp was the latrine. Its stench was absolutely foul. A concrete slab, pierced by holes about six inches in diameter, covered a huge pit. Indentations in the concrete for the feet were placed on both sides of the holes. We ate so little that one need to visit the place only twice a week at the most for bowel movements. However, the 'coffee' our host served us made us urinate all through the night.
14208010 Trooper Robert W. Calvey
46 Recce Regiment
This new camp, known as Fara in Sabina, stood completely isolated amid open fields. The camp itself was large, holding about 800-900 prisoners with a capacity for many more... it was completely surrounded by high double rows of barbed wire fencing, with look-out towers at vantage points, e.g. at the corners of the camp. These housed two guards, a machine gun, and searchlights. There were sixteen long wooden huts in the compound to accommodate the prisoners, and on the other side of the wire was the guards' quarters and the camp commander's office. Our hut was right at the top of the compound facing the wire, all the remaining huts were to our right. Although having to look through barbed wire, we had the best view of the surrounding countryside.
Private Green 'Duke' Cox
133 Regiment 34 Infantry Divison US Army
Private Cox's daughter says:
The prisoners were fed stale, hard bread which they would soak in water to be able to eat. They were also given water and cabbage with worms in it. Our father said that at first he would throw away the cabbage, then after a while would pick out the worms and eat it. Later he ate the cabbbage, worms and all, because he was starving. He said you could see all his ribs when he took his shirt off. The prison camp was at Fara Sabina. About six weeks later the Germans put them on a prison train to take them to Germany.
37548471 Private Russel Eugene Kurzhal
Company I 168 Regiment 34 Infantry Divison US Army
There were British and South African Negroes in there. All in all, there were 800 men in that camp... That’s where we didn’t get nothing to eat. We got wormy cabbage soup once a day in that camp... (We were there) about three weeks. A little over that, maybe. Almost a month in there. The worms turn white when they’re cooked. They’re about that long. They’re green in the cabbage. When cooked they turned white. First couple of days, you’d take your spoon and look in your soup and flip out the worm. Then you got so hungry, you didn’t do it. You just forgot about flipping them out and you ate as fast (as you could) and tried to get a second bowl before they took the big kettle away... Cabbage soup, and that’s all you got, too. Except one day, they gave us each two slices of bread. That was our ration for that day...
The men captured on the Garigliano between 16-23 January 1944 spent a few days in Frosinone and then another few days in Fara in Sabina (WO361/668):
Bill Blewitt had been captured near Gazala, Libya in June 1942 after which had had been imprisoned in Suani Ben Adam camp until November of that year. He was transported to Italy, and spent time in PG 66 Capua (November-December 1942), PG 53 Sforzacosta near Macerata (December 1942-June 1943) and near Verona working on a farm (PG148V June- September 1943). He escaped after the Armistice but was recaptured and sent to Fara in Sabina. Bill recounts that the prisoners in his new hut were split into three distinct groups: the Squatters, prisoners who had escaped at the time of the Armistice and who had lodged with Italian families waiting until the front line passed them by, the Alpinis, the men who had escaped on several occasions and who had been recaptured, and lastly the newly-captured prisoners.
The Squatters tell their story...
27677 Private N. Stanley Wainer
Royal Natal Carbineers Union Defence Force SA
Then came the Allied invasion and the Italian surrender early in September, 1943. It was a day when the Italian guards left the camp's perimeter and gathered at the gates and guardhouse, persuading one another to leave for home, as the armistice terms allowed. In the camp somebody bright and bold produced a pair of pliers and cut through the wire fences below. Hundreds streamed through the gap, but only a handful made the right decision on what was the wisest course of action to follow. Those few walked cross-country to the south and in two weeks reached Allied forces. They shrewdly surmised that the Germans had not yet formed a complete defence line across Italy. But ninety-nine percent of the camp's former inmates clung to the strong rumour disseminated the previous week by the guards, that the Allies would land at Pisa in the north within days. So like hundreds of others, Vere and I felt it was sensible to make for the woods and hills and await developments. Before the month ended the Germans would have retreated beyond the river Po...
On the hillsides and in the valleys were patches of wheat, broad beans and potatoes. Small farmsteads stood here and there. Villages of stone houses clustered solidly on the hilltops. Near the habitations were little vineyards and plots of olive trees, with apple and pear, cherry and almond, growing in tiny walled orchards. During the first few days we skulked with a few others along a stream's banks, picking wild hazel nuts by the score. At night we sneaked into orchards and vineyards, filled up on fruit, then retired to the woods to sleep. There were occasional shots echoing about during daylight and a couple of POWs came into our part of the woods in a hurry, declaring that the Jerries were rounding up escapers in considerable numbers.
Then the hue and cry faded. With two other South Africans we moved out to the little fields during the day to contact villagers for news and a meal, often meeting other small groups of South Africans or Tommies doing the same thing. The Italians, especially the women, were kindly and helpful. They often dyed our woollen jackets and pants which the Red Cross had supplied. A brown jacket handed over in the morning was returned jet black in the afternoon. On the day following pants were taken by one of their menfolk and returned the same sombre civilian-looking colour as the jacket, with someone's old cap supplied as well.
Even the weather was kind to us that autumn, with the days clear and warm. With two Cape Town Highlanders Vere and I stayed in an old shepherd's hut near a hillock covered by shrubs and scattered trees, and topped by an old Roman granary where a couple of chaps lived among the ruins. At the bottom of the hill ran a stream where another group stayed in a cave above its bank. So confident were Italians and POW alike in an Allied landing to the north that everyone wandered about without thought of German patrols. Food was often brought to us by the peasant folk. One of the daughters and a niece of our chief benefactor sometimes carried it and spent a while chatting, mostly to Vere, who was a good-looking chap with a friendly smile.
Then Churchill upset the peace. He had heard of the mass walk-outs from some of the camps, and being a man of bold action he presumed all others were much the same in heart. Over the BBC he broadcast a message to 'evaders', urging them to sabotage and disrupt. This galvanised the Germans into a gathering-up campaign, and in all the country areas where they had not bothered much they carried out intensive searching. Warnings went out and POWs scattered and lay low. We left the hut, the Cape Town Highlanders pair went to the woods, Vere and I moved into the scrub below the granary. We slept beneath a sandstone overhang hidden by bushes. Most days our Italian friends left a little food for us at a prearranged spot... It was more pleasant in the sunlight than the shade. There was a small grassy patch on the shrub-covered hillock where we drowsed and daydreamed. Until the afternoon when a 'Raus' put an end to it all, and a pair of Jerries with pointed rifles got us to our feet and set us walking in a depressed state along footpaths and lanes back to Camp 54. In the camp was a crowd of recaptured POWs, a number in dyed black outfits, and some in rough peasant garb, which the Germans never complained about, unless an individual swore he was Italian. This pretence was soon uncovered by an interpreter who was invariably a Fascist, and the consequence was unpleasant. There were also in the camp numbers of American infantrymen captured at Kasserine Ridge in Tunisia, British 'from Salerno', recaptured SA blacks 'from Tobruk'.
3908767 Corporal Bill Marsh
1 South Wales Borderers
I remained in this camp from March 1943 until September that year, when we were told that the Italians had given up fighting on the side of the Germans. When we saw our guards leaving us we saw this as our chance, and we decided to make a bid for freedom before anything else could happen. Our officers told us to make for the hills and remain until our own troops arrived. This we did but after waiting in the hills for months most of the chaps moved on leaving only a few behind. I was one of the few who remained behind with two companions, Sergeant Price and Private Vince Read. We stayed in a shed at night which housed some sheep but at dawn we moved higher into the hills. This was at a place called Percile, in the Province of Rome.
I was the only one out of the three who could speak any Italian. This I learned while in hospital in Rome and found it came in very useful when I had to go down to the village of Percile to get some food. At the same time I managed to get some old civilian clothes for myself, consisting of mostly patches, but they were better than being in military uniform.
One morning I awoke to find that 'Posh' - the nickname for Sergeant Price - was ill. Neither Private Read nor myself could make out what was wrong with him. We tried to wake him but got no answer - he just stared at us. We put cold water on his forehead and he muttered something. I could see he was badly ill.
I told Private Read to stay with him while I ran down to the village which was about four miles away. On reaching the village, I made sure no Germans were there then I asked for a doctor. I was directed to a house where I was given some Cognac. I was asked what the trouble was by the people of the village and soon they were following me back up to the hills with bits of clothing, warm food and drinks. After a few days of nursing he began to improve, but we were still in danger of being recaptured. By Christmas 1943 'Posh' had made some recovery from his illness, and although he was still feeling weak we were able to shift him from this shed during the day and return at night.
On 25 January 1944 I was making my way out of the shed early in the morning when I came face to face with a German. Using my knowledge of Italian I greeted him with 'Buon Giorno' (Good Morning) and passed on by. To my surprise the place was surrounded by them. We had been given away by an Italian spy who was working for the Germans. We knew him as Alfredo, and we had been warned about him by his fiancée! However, it was too late and we were captured once again. We were taken back to Fara in Sabina PG 54, the camp I was in before. We were only there for a short while as with about 900 others we were soon placed on a train - this time we were going to Germany.
According to Chief Engine Room Artificer F. W. Hine, who set off with Arthur Melling, Saracen's crew were led out of the camp at Manziana by Capitano Cuneo, the Italian Camp Commander.
D/JX.302102 Able Seaman Arthur Melling
HMS Saracen
I escaped from there.. the coxswain took a course as if he was at sea, up hill and down dale, across streams etc. A few of us decided to try going from village to village using the secondary roads. Occasionally we met up with an Italian who could speak good English. I decided to ask one of these men to help me with the language.
'We are English. Please could you give us a little food?' 'How far to the next village?' 'Any Germans about?'
I studied and in time I could not only speak not too badly but could also understand the Italians.
When we escaped we had a type of uniform I thought was the Italian desert uniform. I managed to exchange mine for a pair of rough trousers and a jacket. We did not have any trouble in getting to Rieti. Some of our group including townie Frank Sheppard decided to stay in the village and await our troops. I think the name of the village was Borgetto. I along with Whitehead, Miseldene and Francis Hine (Engine Room Artificer) pushed on until we arrived at the road that went from Rome to Pescara on the east coast. We decided not to cross the road as there was more German activity in that direction. We foraged for food in the villages of Collalto Sabina, Nespolo, Orvinio, Collegiove and others - I forget their names. We stayed in outbuildings outside or on the perimeter of the villages for obvious reasons. Sometimes you would be woken by rats squealing. The buildings usually were used for storing the stalks of the maize after they had taken the corn from them. One got used to them after a while, the rats squealing during the night.
On the day the Germans entered the village... I got out of the building we had been using and and decided to hide in some dense bushes overlooking our place. It started to rain. The Germans with an officer came to the building... the officer must have thought we could be hiding under the stalks of the maize. He shouted, 'Come out,' then after no response ordered one of the men to shoot into the stalks. After a few minutes they departed.
Arthur then started to make his way from the settlement. He met another man who had also been fortunate enough to avoid capture, but after they had covered only a short distance they ran into some German troops. Arthur told the soldiers in Italian that he was going to tend his sheep, but they didn't believe him and forced the two men to accompany them back to the village. Arthur thought quickly, and bidding them good day walked into the first house as though it were his own. Fortunately no one was present and so after waiting for a short time he set off again.
Just when I thought how lucky I had been I met another two soldiers a few hundred yards away coming into the village. I entered the first house I came to but this time I was not so lucky: a woman was inside and she screamed. I told her to be quiet. If the Germans took me prisoner I would tell them she had helped me. I said she had nothing to fear from me. She understood. I thanked God and made my way to God knows where. About a mile outside the village I met another guy the same as myself. He had not been in the village and did not know what had happened. He thought something was amiss as two of his mates had not returned. I explained who I was. He was Irish and said his name was John Atkins.1 He showed me a photo taken in a POW camp with a group of other POWs and I believed him. We decided to go some distance from this village.
I had a picture of a village church... so I went into this village and met the priest and asked for help. He told me to go across the road and say he had sent me. They gave us food and were willing to put us up in the house. I thanked them but said we would rather be outside the village. They said they had a small plot of land with a shed that would be shelter but was rough. We could not believe our luck. There were fruit trees and vegetables, it was great. Each day the daughter, a big lass with a big heart, brought us bread with olive oil and a little salt. One got used to it. The lass used to go into the forest close by to chop wood for their fire. The forest was of chestnut trees and while we stayed there it was time for picking... It was explained to me that the forest belonged to the church and the people who collected chestnuts were allowed a percentage of what they gathered.
Arthur and Johnnie gathered chestnuts and gave them to the family.
We were pleased to repay them a little for their kindness. It was also a change in our diet for a few weeks... We used to get the news about how the war was going on. When they landed at Anzio beach it seemed it would be over very quickly in Italy. The Germans pulled back (from where we were) but they soon came back when it turned out it was not an all-out attack. It seemed as though this would not happen until the second front got under way. One morning we were awakened by someone to tell us the Germans were in the village. This was bad news. We did not want to be caught in the shed. We knew from past experience that they would have surrounded the whole place. We took a chance and dropped down on a footpath right into a group of Germans. An officer had to restrain one of them who told us his family had been killed in an air raid. All I could say was, 'This is war.' We were taken to the village and from there to a large POW camp just outside of Rome called Fara in Sabina. There were a lot of Yanks... South Africans…The next day a large number of us were taken to a railway station and put in a wagon...
C/JX.160639 Able Seaman Arthur Ross Pinnell
HMS Saracen
Able Seaman Pinnell's daughter says:
My father and another seaman, nicknamed 'Hutch', set off together. They were in danger of running into German troops, and although most Italians were glad to see the back of the Mussolini regime and gave help and support to Allied prisoners, they had to be wary of Fascist sympathisers among the population who would hand them over to the Germans and possibly inform on those who helped them. He and Hutch tracked through the mountains for three days before arriving at the Benedictine monastery at Farfa.
The monks hid them in the monastery and fed them. My father shared a room with a Russian professor. Neither could speak theother’s language but they communicated in French and played chess to pass the time... After a few weeks he and Hutch, the Russian professor and a Scottish priest they had met there decided to leave the monastery and try to make their way towards Monte Cassino... On their first evening they were met by a young man whose uncle, Fernando Savioli, agreed to take them in. The uncle persuaded them that it would be impossible to get any further and the professor and the priest went back to the monastery. However, a few weeks later my father and Hutch decided to move on. They reached a village where they begged for food and were again given help. Despite this, shortly after Christmas 1943 German troops surrounded the village and he was recaptured.
The 'Alpinis'
7895023 Private Bill Blewitt
1 Sherwood Foresters (201st Guards Brigade)
Fara in Sabina, or camp PG 54, as it was known before the Armistice, was now being used by the Germans as a transit camp for newly-captured prisoners from the Italian front, and also for escapers... who had been unlucky enough to be recaptured. On arrival, and after being further interrogated... I was escorted to one of the huts, and as I approached I thought I had never seen such a motley crowd of prisoners. My new comrades were a mixed bag all right! Those who had been captured for the first time were of course still in uniform whilst most of the others, like me, were dressed in ragged peasant garb. A small number were dressed in decent clothing, and they really looked out of place. I introduced myself and, after being asked a number of extremely searching questions, discovered that quite a number of those present had been originally captured in the desert, and some had even been in the same camps as I had, including Suani Ben Adem... Having walked through the Apennines I was invited to link up with the Alpinis, and I was very proud to do so. Tales of escape and attempted escape were commonplace with this group, and we even had our own song! Sung in a mixture of English and Italian, to the tune or the 'Ovaltinies', it went something like:
'We are the old Alpinis, merry mountaineers,
To cross front we all intended
But Tedeschi came an' prendered,
Now we're back behind the wire feeling molto fam,
The Hun gives us mangiare niente, how we miss the old polenta,
Scappare via ancora ma stare attenta,
Up the mountaineers.'
Roughly translated, it meant that we, the Alpinis, intended getting through to the front line, but were taken (prendered) by the Germans (Tedeschi). We are now back in a prison camp, feeling very hungry (molto fame), because the Hun gives us nothing to eat (mangiare niente), and we miss very much even the Indian corn (polenta). Now we must escape again, but this time be more careful (Scappare via ma stare attenta). Up the mountaineers!
It did not take long for me to settle down again into the old prison camp routine. Old escapers were not allowed to do any work outside the wire, and fatigues like working in the German cookhouse were barred to us, so we missed out on any extra rations that might be going. Because of the very poor rations we received this was a real hardship, but worse than being hungry all the time was the fact that our movements were so restricted that we had little chance of looking for possible means of escape, and this was almost the sole aim of those who had already tasted freedom. On one occasion I did manage to get outside the wire by reporting sick, but, when I began to wander away from the sick queue, pretending to be an Italian civilian, I was very quickly pulled up by the guard. However, my time on sick parade was not entirely wasted, because the treatment I received for crabs and lice from the German medical orderly completely rid me of those horrible vermin, and I was never again bothered with them for the rest of my time behind the lines.
Newly-captured prisoners were being brought into the camp on a daily basis; the Germans would keep them separate from the rest of us until after they had been interrogated. Initially, they would be confined to a particular hut, and once the interrogation was over they would then be distributed throughout the camp. Being taken prisoner is a numbing experience, and it is some time before reality finally sinks in. This was clearly demonstrated one day when I climbed to look through a window where a number of new prisoners were being kept prior to interrogation. Poking my head through the window, I called out and asked if there were any Geordies among them; in reply a tired looking young soldier with a faraway look in his eyes muttered, 'No mate, we're all English in here.' As it happened, there were some Geordies in this new batch of prisoners, and after they had been interrogated a number of them were allocated to the same hut as myself. I teamed up with one of them, Arthur Gibson2 from the west end of Newcastle, and he and I were to become firm friends.
As well as new prisoners more and more escapers were being apprehended and brought to the camp, and as the numbers increased it became obvious that a move to Germany was imminent. Not only were the Germans transporting prisoners, they were also shipping anything of value to the Fatherland, and so Italian workmen, under supervision of the guards, were actually dismantling the camp piece by piece for eventual shipment to Germany. One day one of the workmen left his tool bag unattended for a few minutes and this, of course, was a direct challenge to us prisoners.
In those few short minutes the tools were taken from the bag and quickly hidden away. To his credit the Italian did not report the theft immediately, but when the Germans eventually found out they threatened us with almost every punishment imaginable. However the tools were never found, and after a few days the incident was soon forgotten. I don't believe the workman was punished either, as he continued to work in the camp. My share of the haul was a hacksaw from which I removed the blade and hid it on my person.
4386573 Private George Mason
3 Green Howards
My first experience of freedom came three days after the capitulation of Italy. 11th of September 1943. Camp PG 54 Fara Sabina. The Italian guards left the camp, and we were left to do as we pleased. Fellows began to group themselves together, leaving the camp, taking with them any Red Cross foodstuff they had left. I left with a party of twelve, with a Sgt. Jamieson East Yorks Regiment taking charge. Germans soon started to look for us when finding only the sick left in the camp. We marched for three days through the hills, then found a cave where we stayed, it was positioned 5 km south of a village, Monte Flavio.
Our party soon got smaller, different pairs of us had to go to the village at dark to beg bread, and Gerry patrolled around roads and the village. This Sgt. Jamieson left with two of the fellows to try to get further down towards the line. A few days later 3 more were picked up around the village by the Gerries. The remainder of us stayed in this cave for about seven weeks thinking that our troops were advancing fast. I was taken by three Germans while entering the village, it was the back end of October or early November. They had some more of our fellows they had rounded up, and took us by trucks to Tivoli. We spent one night there and were then taken to a sea port base west of Rome. (Civitavecchia- author's note) They had nearly 500 POWs they had rounded up. Two days later we were entrained 45 to each wagon for Germany. The wagons were locked from the outside first with the ordinary wagon bolts, and the German guards had a wagon about the centre of the train and one in the rear.
Although we were searched, some of the fellows had knives, pliers and files with them, smuggled on the train in water bottles. The train had only been travelling an hour and the boys had had hole cut through the door, enough to put his (a) hand through and lift the bolts up. The train could not be (have been ) travelling any more than ten miles per hour when the first man jumped. There was a step below the door. I jumped second, rolled a bit but did not hurt myself. I remained on my own and made back for the cave. I reached it after five days and found only two of the fellows left. The three of us travelled further south and stayed a while at a village called Meta in a valley. (The Roveto Valley – author's note)
Myself and Private E. Clark 5 Green Howards stayed in a shed which was owned by an Italian named Antonio Lazzari, Civitella Roveto, Province of Aquila. He brought us food. We lived there for about five weeks and had to leave because of Fascists who were paid by the Germans to search for us. Clark and myself made for the German Line in the central sector and were picked up by two Germans who were patrolling the mountains dressed in white trousers and coats, the 17th December 1943. We were taken to Frosinone and from there back to Fara Sabina.
84050 Sergeant Robert J. Maddern
Union Defence Force SA
Sergeant Maddern's second stay in Camp PG 54 Fara in Sabina was very brief. He had already escaped from captivity there, presumably after the armistice on 8 September.
On 20 Jan. 1944 I was recaptured by a German patrol whilst attempting to reach our lines south of Frosinone... Being placed in solitary confinement, escape for the time being impossible, after a few days in a collection camp near Rome, I among 800 Allied POWs freshly taken, were shifted by rail, our intended destination Germany.
The newly-captured prisoners
Richard Morris, Robert Calvey, Green 'Duke' Cox and Russel Kurzhal had all come from a former Italian Army garrison post in Frosinone, a town half way between Cassino and the outskirts of Rome, where the majority of the inmates had been captured at Tobruk in the summer of 1942.
20838320 Staff Sergeant Richard A. Morris
Company C 157 Regiment 45 Infantry Divison US Army
Staff Sergeant Morris talks about Frosinone and also about D/JX.143367 Petty Officer Leonard C Roberts and C/KX.99634 Stoker 1st Class George A Freer of the Saracen.
The majority of the inmates were British... in addition to the English one could see South African whites, New Zealanders, and Indians, Sikhs and Hindus. For the first time I saw Gurkhas whom the British soldiers called 'Johnny Gurkha' out of admiration for their legendary fighting qualities. Among the English were two sailors whose submarine had been sunk... one was 'Len, the P.O.' and the other was 'Little George'. Len was tall, with light brown hair, and lean, a man of quiet dignity, in his mid 30s. Len spoke with the calm self-assurance of one whose orders were obeyed without question. In his relations with our captors and other prisoners Len was obsessed with justice and fairness.
George was short, blond, very muscular. He had been a professional boxer before the war. He must have been very good or his opponents very bad; his face did not bear the scars of pugilistic wars. It was hard to think of George as a fighter; he was unflaggingly cheerful. Whenever one heard, 'Let's have a sing-song, mates,' the request came most likely from 'Little George.' However, George was never able to generate much enthusiasm among the men for singing 'The Red Flag', the anthem of his beloved 'Lyebor' Party.
The leader among the prisoners was a middle-aged master sergeant from South Africa, an Afrikaner. He had his reservations about England and its imperial policies, but he was a volunteer like all the South Africans. He had fought in World War I, and here he was engaged again in World War II. Freed at the time of the Italian Armistice in September, he and several others were recaptured by a German patrol in no-man's land a few 100 yards from Allied lines. The English prisoners considered him too lenient in dealing with the Germans about conditions in the camp. 'I know how to deal with Gerry,' he would say. Nevertheless, a majority of the prisoners wanted a more militant stance, and they elected Len the P.O. as our camp leader. 'There are always more of you English,' the old fellow sighed grudgingly. Len seemed embarrassed by the situation, but he accepted his duties earnestly, as we would find out quite soon. His first complaint was the lack of food for the prisoners, reminding Nugget Mouth4 of the Geneva Convention and citing the better treatment which the German prisoners received at the hands of the Allies.
On Christmas Day Len invited John and me to a private celebration attended by Little George and four New Zealanders, the 'Kiwis'. The others had 'pinched some real grub' while working at the German air strip and had saved it for this day... A commotion out in the courtyard caught our attention. Oranges and pastries showered into the ,prisoners' courtyard from the guards' quarters above. Hungry prisoners scurried about in pursuit of goodies while the Germans enjoyed the spectacle from the floors above. Len was livid with indignation; he rushed out into the yard and screamed, 'Stop this! All of you! You are hungry, but you are still men, not whores, not monkeys in a zoo'
He demanded an immediate meeting with Nugget Mouth. If the German soldiers wished to contribute food to their prisoners for Christmas, let them put it all together so that it might be shared equally. If they did not wish to do so, let them continue starving their prisoners without degrading them further. The Germans agreed, and the extra rations were pooled and shared by all. Voting for Len as camp leader was my wisest electoral decision.
Len's disputes with the German authorities put a strain on the German sergeant who served as the camp interpreter, a husky, blond six-footer with a calm demeanor. The sergeant sensed the justice of Len's complaints, but it was difficult for him to convey Len's righteous anger to Nugget Mouth diplomatically. At every complaint, the sergeant listened attentively, then the fair skin of his flat, moon-shaped face flushed to his widow's peak as he seemed to ask himself, 'How am I convey this problem to the commander soothingly?'
One evening in the common room Len offered me the rest of his evening meal. He had worked and eaten out at the air strip; now he felt someone less fortunate should get more to eat. I had not eaten real food for so long that I would have devoured a K ration dinner: the cheese, the lemonade powder, the morale pills and the dog biscuits. However, I was not yet ready to eat from another person's cup. I declined politely. Len mistook my squeamishness for nobility. He remarked over and over again that he had never seen a prisoner refuse food. Two days later he got me a place on the work crew which left the prison to work at the German air strip
A soldier from the 34 Division, whose nickname was Apple Jack, had a habit of saving his evening bread for coffee the following morning. Jack then cut the bread in smaller pieces and toasted them one by one over the fire. Apple Jack was the object of envy on the part of the rest of us who did not have his willpower. In civilian life his wife served him nothing but steak and potatoes. If he and his wife were invited to dine at the home of a friend, Jack pushed aside any vegetables placed before him. One morning Apple Jack threw a tantrum; somebody had stolen his bread while he was away getting his morning coffee.
Theft among prisoners of war is a serious matter, and Len conducted an immediate investigation. When the guilty individual, an Englishman, was discovered, Len ordered him beaten about the face by Little George, the former professional boxer. Then, for a week the man had to poke the excrement back down into the holes from where it was seeping in the latrine. George felt so guilty about administering the physical punishment that he could not bear looking at the man. But Len was stern and unwavering; the unity among the prisoners had to be maintained.
Staff Sergeant Morris tells of the move to Camp PG 54 Fara in Sabina, which took place in early January 1944
Gruff shouts of 'Raus! Raus!' awakened us in the middle of the night. Still benumbed by a somnolent state, my fuzzy head finally grasped that what the guards were shouting with such impatience meant 'out'. We were herded onto trucks which sped off in the darkness. There was no time to ask oneself if all personal possessions had been assembled before our swift departure, but by this time few possessions remained.
When the first light of day came, a low bank of clouds ensured that our convoy's movement would be shielded from Allied aerial observers... Each truck had only one guard, armed with a rifle. By concerted action we could have overpowered the single guard and separated him from his rifle. The unlikelihood of further success beyond that point discouraged such foolhardy risks. We would be seen by other guards and drivers, and it was unwise to jump from a vehicle moving at about 45 miles an hour...
Guard towers and fences came into view; this grim, inhospitable place was our destination. The outer fence stood some 12 to 15 feet high, topped by a barbed wire apron. Every 40 yards a guard tower rose above the fence. Ten yards inside this fence stood an identical barrier without guard towers. Five yards inside this second fence a single strand of barbed wire, painted white, was strung above the ground. Any prisoner who stepped inside this single strand of wire was to be shot immediately. That five yard area was a 'death zone'.
Flimsy, one-storey sheds were our new barracks. Inside were two-tier wooden bunks which had slats to support the mattress, a large bag filled with lice-infested straw... The vilest site in the camp was the latrine. Its stench was absolutely foul. A concrete slab, pierced by holes about six inches in diameter, covered a huge pit. Indentations in the concrete for the feet were placed on both sides of the holes. We ate so little that one need to visit the place only twice a week at the most for bowel movements. However, the 'coffee' our host served us made us urinate all through the night.
14208010 Trooper Robert W. Calvey
46 Recce Regiment
This new camp, known as Fara in Sabina, stood completely isolated amid open fields. The camp itself was large, holding about 800-900 prisoners with a capacity for many more... it was completely surrounded by high double rows of barbed wire fencing, with look-out towers at vantage points, e.g. at the corners of the camp. These housed two guards, a machine gun, and searchlights. There were sixteen long wooden huts in the compound to accommodate the prisoners, and on the other side of the wire was the guards' quarters and the camp commander's office. Our hut was right at the top of the compound facing the wire, all the remaining huts were to our right. Although having to look through barbed wire, we had the best view of the surrounding countryside.
Private Green 'Duke' Cox
133 Regiment 34 Infantry Divison US Army
Private Cox's daughter says:
The prisoners were fed stale, hard bread which they would soak in water to be able to eat. They were also given water and cabbage with worms in it. Our father said that at first he would throw away the cabbage, then after a while would pick out the worms and eat it. Later he ate the cabbbage, worms and all, because he was starving. He said you could see all his ribs when he took his shirt off. The prison camp was at Fara Sabina. About six weeks later the Germans put them on a prison train to take them to Germany.
37548471 Private Russel Eugene Kurzhal
Company I 168 Regiment 34 Infantry Divison US Army
There were British and South African Negroes in there. All in all, there were 800 men in that camp... That’s where we didn’t get nothing to eat. We got wormy cabbage soup once a day in that camp... (We were there) about three weeks. A little over that, maybe. Almost a month in there. The worms turn white when they’re cooked. They’re about that long. They’re green in the cabbage. When cooked they turned white. First couple of days, you’d take your spoon and look in your soup and flip out the worm. Then you got so hungry, you didn’t do it. You just forgot about flipping them out and you ate as fast (as you could) and tried to get a second bowl before they took the big kettle away... Cabbage soup, and that’s all you got, too. Except one day, they gave us each two slices of bread. That was our ration for that day...
The men captured on the Garigliano between 16-23 January 1944 spent a few days in Frosinone and then another few days in Fara in Sabina (WO361/668):
Staff/Sergeant Morris tells of the move to Camp PG 54 Fara in Sabina, which took place in early January 1944
Gruff shouts of 'Raus! Raus!' awakened us in the middle of the night. Still benumbed by a somnolent state, my fuzzy head finally grasped that what the guards were shouting with such impatience meant 'out'. We were herded onto trucks which sped off in the darkness. There was no time to ask oneself if all personal possessions had been assembled before our swift departure, but by this time few possessions remained.
When the first light of day came, a low bank of clouds ensured that our convoy's movement would be shielded from Allied aerial observers...Each truck had only one guard, armed with a rifle. By concerted action we could have overpowered the single guard and separated him from his rifle. The unlikelihood of further success beyond that point discouraged such foolhardy risks. We would be seen by other guards and drivers, and it was unwise to jump from a vehicle moving at about 45 miles an hour...
Guard towers and fences came into view; this grim, inhospitable place was our destination. The outer fence stood some 12 to 15 feet high, topped by a barbed wire apron. Every 40 yards a guard tower rose above the fence. Ten yards inside this fence stood an identical barrier without guard towers. Five yards inside this second fence a single strand of barbed wire, painted white, was strung above the ground. Any prisoner who stepped inside this single strand of wire was to be shot immediately. That five yard area was a 'death zone'.
Flimsy, one-storey sheds were our new barracks. Inside were two-tier wooden bunks which had slats to support the mattress, a large bag filled with lice-infested straw...The vilest site in the camp was the latrine. Its stench was absolutely foul. A concrete slab, pierced by holes about six inches in diameter, covered a huge pit. Indentations in the concrete for the feet were placed on both sides of the holes. We ate so little that one need to visit the place only twice a week at the most for bowel movements. However, the 'coffee' our host served us made us urinate all through the night.
14208010 Trooper Robert W. Calvey 46 Recce Regiment
This new camp, known as Fara in Sabina, stood completely isolated amid open fields. The camp itself was large, holding about 800-900 prisoners with a capacity for many more...it was completely surrounded by high double rows of barbed wire fencing, with look-out towers at vantage points, e.g. at the corners of the camp. These housed two guards, a machine gun, and searchlights. There were sixteen long wooden huts in the compound to accommodate the prisoners, and on the other side of the wire was the guards' quarters and the camp commander's office. Our hut was right at the top of the compound facing the wire, all the remaining huts were to our right. Although having to look through barbed wire, we had the best view of the surrounding countryside.
Private Green 'Duke' Cox 133 Regiment 34 Infantry Divison US Army
Private Cox's daughter says:
The prisoners were fed stale, hard bread which they would soak in water to be able to eat. They were also given water and cabbage with worms in it. Our father said that at first he would throw away the cabbage, then after a while would pick out the worms and eat it. Later he ate the cabbbage, worms and all, because he was starving. He said you could see all his ribs when he took his shirt off. The prison camp was at Fara Sabina. About six weeks later the Germans put them on a prison train to take them to Germany.
37548471 Private Russel Eugene Kurzhal I Company 168 Regiment 34 Infantry Divison US Army
There were British and South African Negroes in there. All in all, there were 800 men in that camp....That’s where we didn’t get nothing to eat. We got wormy cabbage soup once a day in that camp... (We were there) about three weeks. A little over that, maybe. Almost a month in there. The worms turn white when they’re cooked. They’re about that long. They’re green in the cabbage. When cooked they turned white. First couple of days, you’d take your spoon and look in your soup and flip out the worm. Then you got so hungry, you didn’t do it. You just forgot about flipping them out and you ate as fast (as you could) and tried to get a second bowl before they took the big kettle away....Cabbage soup, and that’s all you got, too. Except one day, they gave us each two slices of bread. That was our ration for that day...
The men captured on the Garigliano between 16-23 January 1944 spent a few days in Frosinone and then another few days in Fara in Sabina (WO361/668):
6472466 Fusilier J. Willis
This man was taken from the Prisoner of War camp at Frosinone by lorry to Fara in Sabina and from there was put on the train.
Gruff shouts of 'Raus! Raus!' awakened us in the middle of the night. Still benumbed by a somnolent state, my fuzzy head finally grasped that what the guards were shouting with such impatience meant 'out'. We were herded onto trucks which sped off in the darkness. There was no time to ask oneself if all personal possessions had been assembled before our swift departure, but by this time few possessions remained.
When the first light of day came, a low bank of clouds ensured that our convoy's movement would be shielded from Allied aerial observers...Each truck had only one guard, armed with a rifle. By concerted action we could have overpowered the single guard and separated him from his rifle. The unlikelihood of further success beyond that point discouraged such foolhardy risks. We would be seen by other guards and drivers, and it was unwise to jump from a vehicle moving at about 45 miles an hour...
Guard towers and fences came into view; this grim, inhospitable place was our destination. The outer fence stood some 12 to 15 feet high, topped by a barbed wire apron. Every 40 yards a guard tower rose above the fence. Ten yards inside this fence stood an identical barrier without guard towers. Five yards inside this second fence a single strand of barbed wire, painted white, was strung above the ground. Any prisoner who stepped inside this single strand of wire was to be shot immediately. That five yard area was a 'death zone'.
Flimsy, one-storey sheds were our new barracks. Inside were two-tier wooden bunks which had slats to support the mattress, a large bag filled with lice-infested straw...The vilest site in the camp was the latrine. Its stench was absolutely foul. A concrete slab, pierced by holes about six inches in diameter, covered a huge pit. Indentations in the concrete for the feet were placed on both sides of the holes. We ate so little that one need to visit the place only twice a week at the most for bowel movements. However, the 'coffee' our host served us made us urinate all through the night.
14208010 Trooper Robert W. Calvey 46 Recce Regiment
This new camp, known as Fara in Sabina, stood completely isolated amid open fields. The camp itself was large, holding about 800-900 prisoners with a capacity for many more...it was completely surrounded by high double rows of barbed wire fencing, with look-out towers at vantage points, e.g. at the corners of the camp. These housed two guards, a machine gun, and searchlights. There were sixteen long wooden huts in the compound to accommodate the prisoners, and on the other side of the wire was the guards' quarters and the camp commander's office. Our hut was right at the top of the compound facing the wire, all the remaining huts were to our right. Although having to look through barbed wire, we had the best view of the surrounding countryside.
Private Green 'Duke' Cox 133 Regiment 34 Infantry Divison US Army
Private Cox's daughter says:
The prisoners were fed stale, hard bread which they would soak in water to be able to eat. They were also given water and cabbage with worms in it. Our father said that at first he would throw away the cabbage, then after a while would pick out the worms and eat it. Later he ate the cabbbage, worms and all, because he was starving. He said you could see all his ribs when he took his shirt off. The prison camp was at Fara Sabina. About six weeks later the Germans put them on a prison train to take them to Germany.
37548471 Private Russel Eugene Kurzhal I Company 168 Regiment 34 Infantry Divison US Army
There were British and South African Negroes in there. All in all, there were 800 men in that camp....That’s where we didn’t get nothing to eat. We got wormy cabbage soup once a day in that camp... (We were there) about three weeks. A little over that, maybe. Almost a month in there. The worms turn white when they’re cooked. They’re about that long. They’re green in the cabbage. When cooked they turned white. First couple of days, you’d take your spoon and look in your soup and flip out the worm. Then you got so hungry, you didn’t do it. You just forgot about flipping them out and you ate as fast (as you could) and tried to get a second bowl before they took the big kettle away....Cabbage soup, and that’s all you got, too. Except one day, they gave us each two slices of bread. That was our ration for that day...
The men captured on the Garigliano between 16-23 January 1944 spent a few days in Frosinone and then another few days in Fara in Sabina (WO361/668):
6472466 Fusilier J. Willis
This man was taken from the Prisoner of War camp at Frosinone by lorry to Fara in Sabina and from there was put on the train.