大象传媒

CAMPO (Part 1)

Experience in a POW Working Camp, Lovatelli Estate, Taverne-di-Arbia, Italy.
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The working camp accommodation was an old two story stone building previously used to accommodate sheep. On one side of the building there was a small stonework lean-to containing a large copper. This was to be the camp cookhouse. There was a small compound, which met up with a wall housing the Italian permanent staff offices. At the corner where the exposed fenced wall met up with the compound there was a gate at which a sentry was positioned. From this vantage point he had visibility over both the compound area and the fenced wall. It was certainly an improvement from the conditions we had been experiencing at the main camp at Laterina. Above all else was the comforting knowledge that from now on we would not to be tormented by any pangs of extreme hunger, the rations such as they were, would now be doubled.
It was surprising how the fifty prisoners quickly settled into the new life style of the Italian POW working camp in Tuscany; I was a Sergeant and the senior NCO in the camp. Having seen the work parties leave each morning I was then left to myself. In addition to being held responsible to the Italians for the discipline of the prisoners, I was also held to account for all their administration within the compound.

The camp routine commenced with a paraded roll call at reveille. After an early breakfast and having made up their beds, cleaned the camp area including the toilets and ablutions, the working parties were marched under escort to their respective places of work returning to camp in the late afternoon thoroughly tired out after their day鈥檚 hard work in the boiling sun. Following the evening meal and at sundown there was a further parade and roll call. In the evening they played cards or sought their own amusement, most of them retiring early. Unless there was someone excused work because he was sick, the only prisoners left in the camp were two South Africans POW鈥檚 employed as cooks and myself. Accompanying the working parties were two other Sergeants. Clem, an infantry Sergeant of the Essex Regiment and John a Sergeant, from the Royal Ordnance Corps.

At first I found the days to drag a little. Having inspected and checked the accommodation set the cooks up for the day and performed the office work I had quite a lot of loose time on my hands. To satisfy myself of the working conditions of the men I also managed at times to accompany the estate bailiff (The Fattore) on his visits to the men working in the fields. When this happened I had no escort and travelled as a pillion rider perched behind the Fattore on his motorcycle. To the Fattore and the peasant farmers I became known as Capo Campo, but to the Italian military I was always referred to as 'Sergente Maggiore'.

In comparison to the traumas of the past, the new environment should have been idealistic and would have been so but for the Italian Commandant, He was an ardent Fascist, in his early thirties, and believed to be debarred from further active service due to wounds sustained in Russia. He was vain and arrogant and held himself completely aloof from his soldiers as he did with the prisoners. He could without any warning or reason erupts into bouts of ungovernable temper. From what I was told, he was equally disliked and feared by his own men as he was by the prisoners. He was an enigma that I had to withstand and often cross swords with.

The second in command was the 'Corporale Maggiore'. He looked too old for active service and was in all probability a called up reservist. He was a quiet man who often showed compassion to the prisoners. The remainder of the guards were a mixed lot and again I thought that they had been selected for the job due to them possibly being medically unfit, or there being some other reason debarring them from active service. In consequence they were a heterogeneous bunch, the young and the old, the smartly turned out and the shabby. I was surprised to find that in place of socks they wrapped their feet in pieces of hard calico material. They had little spirit for the job, but I suppose it was better than serving on the Russian front. It must be mentioned however, that their attitude to the prisoners was perfectly correct and at no time did I have cause to criticize their behaviour.

In contrast to the dress of his men the Tenente (Lieutenant) was always immaculately dressed. His uniforms, whether it was the sober grey or the smart dark blue, they were tailored to perfection. He obviously had an eye for the ladies because often of a Sunday young fashionable females would visit him. There were occasions when either to impress them, or to pander to their inquisitiveness to see a prisoner he summoned me to his billet. After saluting him, I would be kept waiting whilst being appraised by the laughing and chattering young females. It was obvious by their dress that these were no country peasant girls, but upper class young women possibly on a days outing from nearby Sienna or Florence. After making some excuse for summoning me he would then curtly dismiss me, and seething with anger I would return to the compound.

It was not long before it was noticeable John the Ordnance Sergeant was not settling down the same as the others. John was a quiet man who kept to himself, but it was obvious that he was unhappy and finding it difficult to adapt himself to the camps conditions. Matters came to a head when he approached me and told me that he was planning an escape and would like to have my assistance. I realised what an escape from the camp would mean for all the prisoners. Security in the future would be increased; possibly more restrictions imposed on us, and perhaps a general punishment such as the stopping of the Red Cross parcels. There was also no knowing what would be the reaction of the commandant to a prisoner escaping, the thoughts of which dare not be contemplated.

It was my duty to assist all I could in an escape, but at the same time I had to consider the safety and welfare of the other prisoners. I did not ask John what his plans were once he was clear of the camp. In fact I preferred not to know, in order that if I was questioned at a later date I could then truthfully answer that I had not taken me into his confidence. The breakout was planned for the following Sunday. John favoured the early afternoon and the siesta period. He considered that getting out of the compound would not be too difficult. His biggest problem would be getting clear of the camp and village area where there was always the chance of him being seen by one of the local people.

The plan of escape was quite simple. Just after the midday meal he would go to the cook house and remain there until the time of the break out which he would accomplish by climbing the wire in that corner of the compound. My assistance would be to engage the sentry in conversation at the gate, long enough to prevent him from moving to the corner of the yard from where he had a complete view of the wire running to the cook-house and the open ground that John would have to travel before reaching a line of trees. No one else, not even Clem the other Sergeant was in on the plan. Just after the midday meal on the Sunday, apart from two other prisoners sat in the shade against the wall of the building, I was the only other prisoner in the yard. Casually I strolled across to the sentry standing just outside the gate.

Because of my appointment as camp leader my standing with all the sentries was high. I was the only privileged prisoner permitted to move freely without any escort from the compound to the camp office and it was therefore an easy matter for me to approach the unsuspecting sentry and engage him in conversation. I opened the conversation by enquiring if Tenenti was in camp. I was ill pleased to hear that he had not gone away for that weekend. To maintain the sentries interest and to prevent him from moving to the corner of the wire and the vantage point from where he could see down to the cookhouse, I brought up the subject of my family, even showing pictures of my wife. At one point in the conversation when the sentry showed signs of disinterest, I gave him a cigarette. When the conversation could be prolonged no further without raising the sentries suspicion I left him, and unconcernedly strolled to the outhouse, - John had gone.

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