Conclusion

Claudia and Duncan at Agriturismo Contrada Durano

 

After staying four nights in Francavilla d’Ete where we did very little sightseeing, spending most of our time composing this diary, we headed to Puglia for some rest and relaxation. From the car window, we looked out at the Abruzzi countryside and passed Foggia where my dad had his jubilant reunion with the Americans at the airbase on June 19, 1944. It seemed a long journey (3 ½ hours) and I imagined his impatience to reconnect with them after so long. Foggia is flat and looks industrial, not a tourist centre, but I don’t think my dad would have given that a thought.

We’ve experienced so much by participating in the Tenna Valley Freedom Walks of 2013. We’ve met amazing people from the area and from afar, enjoyed the gracious hospitality of many local Italians and absorbed so much information. Though my dad was not one to exaggerate, we’ve found that he omitted some critical information when relating his experiences here. He never said that he escaped along with 2,000 others, and Giuseppe, having written a history of the camp during WWII, stated that the only prisoners who escaped prior to the Armistice were recaptured. Though appreciative of the assistance he received from the contadini, he related only his own experiences and never spoke of the incredible risks and sacrifices of these families. It is highly likely that my dad’s descendants, the McLaughlin clan, owe their very lives to these unknown heroes. The story of Cesare Viozzi posted on Dennis Hill’s website is a poignant illustration.  In 1943 the Germans issued orders that anyone in the area helping escaped POWs would be killed and they offered rewards to traitors.
 

Copy of original German Order

One may wonder why my dad did not come back here to thank those who saved his life. He was a young American from far away, anxious to put the war years behind him and get on with his life. Travel from the USA to Europe was too arduous and expensive in the '50s and '60s, and he wasn't a prosperous man.  So “basta” – enough – this small gesture must suffice – I'll probably never meet the descendants of the family, so I must be satisfied with thanking a serious young man dedicated to keeping the memories of the heroic contadini alive. ”Grazie a tutti” – thank you everyone. In hiking up and down these Tenna Valley trails over the past few days, I have followed in my father’s footsteps. I’ll never forget the sense of peace watching the dawn break over the beautiful countryside of le Marche on the first morning I awoke at Contrada Durano. Here I was in this place of my imagination looking out over those same hills as my dad- “seventy years on”.

Duncan and I would like to thank so many people for making this experience possible:

Family and friends who sponsored us on the walks

 Event organizers from WW2 Escape Lines Memorial Society and Monte San Martino Trust, especially trustee, John Simkins,

Dennis Hill, historian

Giuseppe Millozzi, historian

Umberto Bufalini and Mario Dondero, photo journalists

Anne Copley and David Runciman, fellow participants

Laura Strappa, teacher

Paolo Ginnete Le Spade, historian

Paola and Marino Marchese, gracious hosts

Pancrazio Tulli and Margret Cornelius, gracious hosts

Luigi and Angela Bracalente, gracious hosts

Ian McCarthy and wife, Gabriella , hike leaders

Jimmy and Concetta Steele of Agriturismo Contrada Durano

 

 

 

 





 

Meeting with Giuseppe Millozzi Septermber 10, 2013

Giuseppe Millozzi

  

Our first evening in Servigliano, Giuseppe Millozzi expressed interest in hearing my father's story. I hoped that he could help find more specific information about my dad's whereabouts and the family who sheltered him. He agreed to meet with us on our last day in the region. After getting a bit lost we arrived right on time for our greatly anticipated meeting.  Giuseppe has written a master’s thesis on Camp 59 and has actually stayed with Keith Killby in London while doing his research. He very kindly offered us a selection of tea, coffee, biscuits and cake, and we were introduced to Carl, the distinguished looking man from the cafe in Monte San Martino, who, as it turns out, is an American from Worcester Massachusetts, but emigrated to Italy to live in the area where his family members came from originally. Giuseppe told us that Carl translated all the speeches for yesterday’s award ceremony from Italian into English.

Giuseppe began by telling us that with no family name or village name and only the photos of the two unknown Italian women, adding information to what we know would be like “looking for a needle in a haystack”. (We were impressed with his use of this English idiom.) But he said he would do his best and thanked us for the enlarged photos. I shared two stories my dad always told about his time in hiding, hoping that they might prove useful in future:

Shortly after his escape from Servigliano there was an earthquake. Wikipedia gives the date as October 4, 1943, and Keith Killby also refers to the event in his book. Everyone ran out of the house leaving the baby inside in their haste. My dad, without hesitation, ran back to fetch the child, and the family, especially the grandmother, were immensely grateful.

On another occasion family members sent my dad down to the cellar to fetch some special wine for the priest’s anticipated visit. When he did not return in a timely manner, a family member was sent to investigate. It seems he became preoccupied with sampling the different wines he found.

Giuseppe asked the name of the priest and since I drew another blank, thought the above stories would not shed much light.

He did, however, share information about experiences common to many of the escapees on the night of Sept. 14, 1943 and subsequently until the Germans moved their front line in June 1944, allowing the Allied soldiers to leave the area.

What follows is an edited transcription of the tape recording I made using my smartphone.

There were three camps in southern le Marche – PG 59 Servigliano – PG 70 Fermo, and - PG 53 Sforzacosta Macerata. Sforzacosta and Fermo camps were formerly industrial sites and they were very big as compared to Servigliano. For two reasons there was no mass escape in those two camps. Firstly they were too close to the main cities and the camp commandants thought it was too dangerous to let the prisoners free, and secondly the people responsible for the prisoners also thought that the Allies were coming to rescue them. They were all wrong. 

Servigliano, which was the smallest of the three, was a proper camp because it had served during WWI.  It was far from the coast and near a very small town… The camp commandant was reluctant to let them go, but the prisoners were determined enough to get away, and they did so thanks to Captain Derek Millar. The mass escape occurred from Servigliano mostly on the evening of the 14^th of September, six days after the Armistice. We know that they left at 22 hours 22 minutes, as we have signed documents to this effect.  One of the guards who was in the sentry box told me that in the moonlight he saw most of the prisoners heading for the hills, that is in the direction of the Tenna Valley upstream towards the Tenna Valley Spring. For that reason most of them found themselves in the foothills near Penna San Giovanni and Monte San Martino the following morning and found a friendly reception from the contadini, which prompted them to seek a family to quite literally adopt them. The most daring, however headed south, thinking that they could reach the Allied lines. Later on, as they got organized, a very few decided to head for the coast  and tried to circumnavigate the front line via the sea, either  to be helped by the secret service or by some fishermen. Others joined the Partisans on the mountains. But the majority, I would say 90 percent, stayed with the contadini. It would have been very dangerous, in the winter either to reach the Partisans or to reach the Allied lines via the sea.

Now, if you read the chapter in the thesis dealing with life with the contadini, it will tell you the experience of a few prisoners, which is common to all. Some of them made themselves useful helping when they could with farming as many Italian men were at war. Some of them  made themselves useful teaching the children, because the schools weren’t running properly. Nothing was functioning properly in this country. They seldom moved from village to village. When I say village I mean the countryside, because they would avoid the towns. They would try to meet with other prisoners to exchange news how the war was going. Once winter set in and there was the massive snowfall, there was all the more reason to stay put and wait for better times. When springtime came there was a lot of search activity, therefore they might have moved into more savage areas, such as the bush closer to the mountains. They might have left the family for one or two weeks, because the farmers knew what was going on and the bush telegraph worked really well. They would exchange information with other families and the children would run ahead and warn people and the prisoners what was happening. It was mostly the Fascists who would raid the houses and send the prisoners to be collected by the Germans. The Germans were busy fighting the war in N. Africa, and they used the Italians for other things. In both the Fermo and Macerata camps I would say 10,000 prisoners at least got shipped to Germany and had to finish the war in German prison camps. Some 2,000 managed to escape during the days of the Armistice, the same number as in Servigliano.

Moreover the conditions in Sforzacosta and Fermo were appalling, because they were factories - no sanitation, no running water. They were trying to improve them, but once the Armistice came nothing more was done. Servigliano was better - I don’t mean that there weren’t lice, there were. They did suffer hunger as well, although for several months the Red Cross managed to deliver Red Cross parcels..

Now to give you a clue of what I found out, I will leave this map with you.  The prisoners who escaped  from  Sforzacosta were hidden in the countryside of Mogliano, Massa Fermana, Montaponi. They got as far as Montaponi and Montegeorgio. They headed south and many settled in the hills. San Ginesio was very important. San Ginesio is a huge township, and some hamlets such as Cereto, which was well hidden above a hill, was a fugitive paradise, because they could check the main roads from a high hill and know at a glance whether there were movements of troops.  Sarnano as well, I mean around Sarnano there were safe havens. The people who escaped from  Servigliano hid in Penna San Giovanni, Monte San Martino, Smerillo and Santa Vittoria in Matenano. All the villages south of the camp were involved - Amandola, Curnanza, Curetta. Yes, those are hamlets of Servigliano ; Servigliano is a township. The same thing could be said about Fermo -   the prisoners heading south were hidden in Grottazzolina and Ponzano. Some of them got as far as Monteleone. Prisoners  from these two camps got mixed up south of here. If you hear about prisoners scattered all over the province, a minority could be from our camps, but the majority were walking south from camps in Northern Italy. Out of 80 camps some 80,000 escaped.  80,000 was the number of POWS in Italian hands at the time of the Armistice. Out of this 80,000, 50,000 were recaptured and taken to Germany. So by the end of September 30,000 men were on the run, most of them headed south, with a minority headed toward Switzerland. Because Rome was too dangerous, too difficult to hide, the majority of these people walking south went through the Marche hoping to reach the Allies, but many stayed here and did what your father did. Therefore we assume some 10,000 men passed through the Marche, adding to the ones that had escaped from our camps and it was a very fluctuating situation.

(I asked Giuseppe about the population of Italians who lived in this area at that time, because now they have lost about 50 percent of the population here in the villages, although I understand that on the coast the population has increased.  Giuseppe said about 1 ½ million but he is uncertain and would have to look it up. I told Giuseppe that Concetta said that even in their house in Smerillo, there were many people living together.  They had large families - lots of children to help. Giuseppe replied that they needed the muscles of the children to work in the fields. )

Well to conclude, my guess is your father joined a small group - that was the right number either two or three. They knew that ten people could not be taken into a family. Also travelling around together they would be easy to spot, so two to three was the maximum number of prisoners.  So everything fits, but unfortunately he could have been in any village south from here. 

I told Giuseppe that, although I have lost hope of ever finding the specific family, I wanted to say thank you to him, because he is the representative of the contadini and without their help, I literally wouldn’t be here today. I really want my family members to understand that they owe their existence to these brave people, and that is why I’ve made this pilgrimage to Le Marche. I asked that he convey my thanks to everybody here, because the contadini made unbelievable sacrifices after the Armistice. I don’t think most Americans understand their contribution. My dad was always so positive about Italy and the Italian people and everything Italian. That was hard for me to understand as a child, because I knew that he had been in a prison camp in Italy and that the Italians were supposed to be the enemy, but he never said anything against Italians, only the Fascists.

We thanked Giuseppe for giving us his time. It was very meaningful for me and I told him that if he ever comes to Toronto, he has a place to stay.

Giuseppe replied: “Let us keep in touch.”

Antonio Millozzi MBE (Honorary Member of the British Empire)

We lounged around the last morning opting not to take the tour on the air conditioned bus arranged by ELMS to lay more wreaths, visit other camps and finish with dinner at Porto San Georgio. We are very impressed by Giusppe and Antonio Millozzi and did not want to miss the ceremony awarding Antonio the MBE. Letitia Blake, secretary of MSMT stayed behind to participate in the event, though many of her colleagues continued on to Fontanellato.

 

Anne Copley went on the bus and related the following interesting story of a family from Fermo:

 

The family had married  into an English family a generation or two before and the adults at the time had English names (one was Joyce, one was Max ...)  They had been anti-fascist from the beginning and several had been imprisoned.  However they still became involved in the resistance and in assisting escapers. Being cultured people they spoke several languages, including ...German.  They were of course under suspicion, and the local fascist mayor used to come to the villa (which was quite isolated) on the pretext of collecting some roses for his wife, but really to see if he could come across anything nefarious!  The Germans were very taken with the lady of the house who spoke perfect German and would entertain them to tea.  Upstairs in the attic would be Allied soldiers, but the Germans never suspected that someone so obviously "one of them" could be up to anything.  (I have an alternative theory which is that they may have had suspicions but didn't want to put an end to their cultured afternoons.  I have come across quite few stories of this type - one of the paradoxes of war).

 

After lunching in the garden at Contrada Durano, we proceeded to Monte San Martino at about 15:00 hours (3 pm). Figuring that the small hilltop town had no room for our car due to the visiting dignitaries, we hiked up at least 200 stairs from a parking place at the bottom of the hill. The town was absolutely quiet so we strolled around and stopped at one end to admire the beautiful view in tranquility from a bench near a fountain.

 

We had no idea where to go but saw a notice telling us to proceed to the Pinacoteca at 16:30 hours (4:30 pm) for the unveiling of a plaque before moving to the Teatro Comunale next door for the official event. As it was still early we strolled back to the cafe where we speculated as to whether we could attend given that we had no tickets. We met Jeffrey from ELMS who told us he used to work for the British Foreign Office in Spain and in Latin America. We also noted a distinguished looking man reading a book at the next table who appeared interested in our conversation. To our surprise the three British women we had met at dinner at Contrada Durano the night before, arrived hoping to see the ceremony and we enjoyed chatting with them again. We spied Letitia Blake up the hill and asked if we needed tickets and she cheerfully replied, “Absolutely not! You are most welcome to attend.” So we waved to the three British ladies, and they joined us near the Pinacoteca for the unveiling. The British Ambassador, Christopher Prentice CMG, (Companion of the Order of St. Michael and St. George – sounds impressive) arrived looking very dapper in suit and tie accompanied by his wife. To me he looked just like Hugh Grant though with a bit more gray hair. Imagine Hugh made up to look like someone of my generation. When I mentioned this to Anita Kroll the next day, she concurred. Several of the official-looking people were wearing more formal clothing, but others in the crowd were more casually dressed so we didn’t feel out of place.

 

We witnessed the unveiling of the plaque commemorating this event and the contribution of Monte San Martino Trust and Keith Killby in providing scholarships to the grandchildren of the heroic Italians who aided ex-prisoners of war. Then we entered the Teatro and seated ourselves front and centre. A large TV monitor at our right was ready for a Skype call with Keith Kilby, who at 97 years old, was unable to attend in person. Anne Copley very kindly ensured that we had copies of all speeches translated into English. The ceremony lasted at least one hour and it was very touching to see Antonio Millozzi, who appears to be a very modest gentleman, receive this tribute.

British Ambassador Christoper, Prentice, Dr. Anita Krol and Antonio Millozzi, MBE

 

Keith Killby OBE 97 years old

Afterwards we eschewed the free buffet in the piazza in favour of another of Concetta’s amazing feasts. I began to worry I’d look like a blimp at the end of this trip; lucky thing I was travelling without a scale to weigh myself. Imagine the effects of a final week of eating in Rome!
 

The Full Day: Servigliano to Curetta, Santa Vittoria in Matenano, Montefalcone, Smerillo and back to Contrada Durano (26 km)

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The Full Day: Servigliano to Curetta, Santa Vittoria in Matenano, Montefalcone, Smerillo and back to Contrada Durano (26 km)

 

The day began again at 08:30 (8:30 am) with a visit to the Servigliano cemetery to leave flowers on the grave of a British soldier, Frank Hilton, a Servigliano POW who started the Baglioni Trust and actually took Baglioni as his surname to honour the local family who aided him.

The weather was hot, at least 30C, and humid reminding us of Toronto’s frequently insufferable summertime heat. We were grateful that we had trained there under the same conditions this summer because this was our full day, and we were determined to stay the course and nurse our injuries the following day.  We trekked up the road past the camp on a “white road” (unpaved), most likely used by the escapees, to Curetta led again by Ian McCarthy. He stopped to read a very sobering story of Cesare Viozzi who made the difficult decision to harbour two soldiers only to be betrayed by fascists in the village. One of the soldiers with the surname of Newton was an American training to be a doctor and very popular with many of the locals.

http://camp59survivors.wordpress.com/2010/12/30/cesare-viozzi-on-sheltering-robert-a-newton/

He was shot along with his companion, and the Italian family who sheltered them suffered immeasurably – underlining the risks taken by the locals.

I took a photo of a derelict farm on the way to Curetta, because most of the villages and homes seem pristine today, and I am sure my father would never recognize them. Their condition surprised me because I know that this is not a prosperous area of Italy.  I believe most of the buildings would have looked like this one with large families living in them.  

Rundown House in Countryside

Along our way we were welcomed to Luigi and Angela’s modern home, Angela’s Garden B and B, where Des, one of the ELMS walkers was staying. They provided delicious snacks of Italian crostada, soft drinks and fruit so we left amply fortified only to be met by the wife of Paolo Ginnete Le Spade who served us pieces of fresh juicy cantaloupe. She assured us we had only one-half hour further to march up the road to Santa Vittoria in Matenano. Paolo told us he would be opening a B and B soon and that we and all our friends should stay with them should we ever return. He offered to post the enlarge photos on the Casa della Memoria website to see if anyone recognized either of the Italian women.

Today we were joined by a couple of younger teachers and three or four of their teenaged students, most of whom were wearing totally inappropriate footwear. I was certain they wouldn’t stay the course, but I was proven very wrong because they did. One, who had originally come from Albania, spoke very good English and was fascinated when I related my dad’s story.  We took their photo in the next town. You will note that one is wearing skimpy cutoff jeans and that the pockets hanging down feature the stars and stripes.  I was also amused to see a young fellow roaring into town on his motorcycle with goggles in the same motif, though I didn’t stop to take his picture. I guess the American flag is still a popular fashion item for the youth in these parts! My great nieces and nephews will be happy to hear this news.
 

Italian Students (Stars and Stripes in Centre)

We continued on to Santa Vittoria in Matenano for another wreath-laying and lunch, arriving tired and very sweaty. We waited at the war memorial for the mayor or even the deputy mayor, but as they were otherwise engaged, a flustered councilman hurried to replace them for the ceremony. Duncan and I sat on a bench eating our bread and cheese in a small park as locals walked by staring at us, wondering I am sure, why we were there. Ian told us that Santa Vittoria ... managed quite well during the war with sufficient food and wine until the Germans decided to make it their headquarters for 7-10 days. There were 5000 soldiers to 1000 villagers who were ordered to cook for them. Ironically there were American soldiers hidden in the attics of the town while the Germans enjoyed the “hospitality” down below.

Representatives from ELMS and MSMT Lay Wreaths

Ian made the mistake of encouraging some of us to go for coffee while we awaited the arrival of his wife, Gabriella, who would lead the second part of this walk. Several of us headed for the nearest cafe to enjoy coffee and beer much to the chagrin of some of the organizers who wished to get on the road. We sat and chatted with Laura and her friend and Anna Maria certain that this was an equally important part of our Freedom Trail experience.

We straggled out of the bar onto the main road and then onto a stony slippery path to Montefalcone for another wreath-laying ceremony. Des Mahon from ELMS stopped again to photograph the magnificent view. I wish I had done the same.

We met the mayor, a handsome chap, and jokingly told him we thought he would be scooping out the gelato to welcome us. He took us seriously and apologized for rushing away to a previous engagement, but he graciously advised us to stop at the bar down the hill for refreshments on him which could include gelato! Several of the men were most grateful for the cold beers purchased by Anne Copley. We were so sweaty and tired that we actually began to feel a bit chilled in the afternoon sun. We marched back up the hill from the bar led by Ian’s wife who was wearing only fashionable sandals on her feet to enter the nature trail through the forest on the way to Smerillo. Ironically this was the most difficult and authentic trail in our day. We were shown a place where Allied soldiers were sure to have hidden from the enemy during daylight hours. We marched along the edge of a cliff with stunning views and some of the ELMS people approvingly commented that this was truly a Freedom Trail. I had difficulty getting down a steep bit and had to resort to crouching down and sliding. However Ian’s wife charged on ahead in her sandals. She explained that she didn’t like to have hot feet in boots! I could never have managed in those fashionable sandals and was grateful for the Vibram soles on my sturdy boots. Finally at about 19:00 hours (7 p.m.) we made it to our destination admonished by Roger Stanton, ELMS honourable secretary from Harrogate, Yorkshire, to wait for the last hikers to arrive before entering Smerillo. We explained however, that unlike the rest of the group, we had to continue on for an additional 3km. to Contrada Durano for aperitifs at 19:30 hours (7:30 p.m.) and we didn’t want to be late. So he waved us on ahead.

We marched past the rescue vehicle and Steve Sims (ELMS) joked that we were showing off. However he had stayed with Concetta and Jimmy on a previous visit so understood the reason for our haste. This was the longest most difficult part of our day since we expected to see our hotel around every bend. The road seemed to continue forever and I had neglected to use “the facilities” in Montefalcone or Smerillo so was a bit distressed. Finally we trudged up the hill to our hotel at 19:45 hours (7:45 p.m.) after hiking 26 km, the longest march we’ve ever had in our lives. This includes my Outward Bound course in Northern Ontario when I was 37 years old rather than my current advanced 66 years! Concetta greeted us laughingly  asking if we had arrived without the car. She gave us 10 minutes to shower and dress before dinner. I rushed because I was sorely in need of the pink champagne all the guests were merrily imbibing in the courtyard. Duncan appeared a few minutes later looking refreshed in his new Tilley shirt. We met Dr. Anita Krol and her husband from Rome. Anita was one of the organizers of the Award Ceremony for Antonio Milozzi to be held in San Martino the next day. She has worked at the British Embassy in Rome for more than 25 years and makes life easier for the British Ambassador, Christopher Prentice CMG, who has held the post for about four years. We asked her how many ceremonies this man must attend on average each week and she responded “three or four”. This couple was very friendly and wanted to hear all about our day as did the three British women at the next table from Penna San Giovanni, a neighbouring village. One has a holiday home there and another currently lives on a small island across from Auckland, NZ. The third lives near Guildford in Surrey and enjoys doing house exchanges as do we.

That evening at dinner, we enjoyed ravioli appetizers stuffed with cheese and herbs from Concetta’s garden, delicious pasta with a green sauce festooned with roasted pine nuts, pork filet mignon and baked plums with sauce for dessert and naturally wines with each course. How did we ever find this little bit of heaven?

The Long Hot Slog to Montelparo (24 km)

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Duncan (middle) Hiking in Beautiful Countryside

 

After another of Concetta’s delicious breakfasts consisting of fresh fruit, juice, eggs, toast, coffee and pastries , we reconvened at 08:30 (8:30 am) in Servigliano. You can see why we won’t lose any weight during these hikes in spite of the distances and heat! We began the trek up toward Montelparo. The sun was blazing overhead, and we had amazing views over this peaceful countryside. I regret that we did not stop to take photos of the view of patchwork quilt fields, punctuated by rows and rows of spent sunflowers with their wizened brown heads bent downward as if the heat was just too much for them. We found out later that these are used to make sunflower oil and that is why they are left drying in the fields. I enjoyed chatting with Christine English, another MSM trustee, from London, UK, whose father was in a camp at Sulmona south of Pescara. She’d already completed hikes in that area in the past and was determined to go the distance here on the first two days, as were John and Katie.  They will be leaving tomorrow to proceed to Fontanellato where there will be no more hikes, just celebrations! We’ve decided to try to complete the entire hike on the last day because we can rest up afterwards. I’m sure I’ll have serious blisters on my feet after that.

Ian McCarthy, an English local married to an Italian woman, Gabriella, led our walk and stopped along the way to read installments of a story from Yank Magazine, an American wartime publication, of a Brooklyner, Manuel Serrano, who joined the partisans after escaping from Camp 59. Here is the link to Dennis Hill’s website, so that you can read this exciting story.

http://camp59survivors.wordpress.com/?s=Yank+Magazine

Pancrazio Tulli Telling his Story



About halfway to our destination, locals, Pancrazio Tulli and his wife, Margret Cornelius, from the hamlet of Santa Lucia provided refreshments at their lovely stone cottage.  Crusty bread drizzled with local olive oil tastes delicious, slices of cantaloupe and watermelon, water, juice and wine revived us. Duncan and I even got to sit down to listen to Pancrazio’s story. He welcomed us warmly and expressed heartfelt gratitude for past funding from MSMT that enabled his son, Luca, to travel to London to study English for one month, all expenses paid. For the first of several times in the coming days, I was moved to tears to hear that his maternal grandparents had sheltered two soldiers who were later discovered and arrested. His mother, 16 years old at the time, recalled how she witnessed their arrest and could not look into their eyes as they departed for fear of incriminating her family. The stories today were very poignant and brought this era of history alive to me. Over and over we heard of the humanity of the local contadini, and it was so meaningful to meet their descendants. It dawns on me now that it does not really matter if I am successful in finding out the specific information about my dad. It is enough to be here and experience these moments. Somehow my soul feels at peace in this beautiful valley and I find myself very motivated to share these moments with other family members and friends who cannot be here with us.

 We resumed the march and enjoyed chatting with some of the Italians who were walking with us today. Emanuela Pompei was delighted that we have come all the way from Canada. She told us her mother was an English teacher and that she grew up speaking English with her students. Laura Strappa is a teacher and is here because she wants her students to know more about this period in their history. Her friend, Anna Maria Tentella, teaches primary school children, and we enjoyed sharing anecdotes about the rewards and challenges of being a teacher.  We dragged into the town hall after 12 km, picked up our lunch and departed.

Nick Young and Letitia Blake resting after the hike up the hill.



This day Laura was instrumental in finding us our ride back to Servigliano with Umberto Bufalini , photographer,  and Mario Dondero, photographer/journalist. Mario speaks English and explained that he was posted in Winnipeg and Calgary earlier in his career but spent a considerable time in Paris. He asked if we spoke French and we were  delighted to answer in the affirmative and to be able to converse in more detail about my dad’s experiences here.  Both men were  intrigued by the photos of my dad and mom and the two Italian women that Duncan has in his backpack. They offered to make copies that we could  distribute to better our chances of connecting with the descendants of family members who sheltered my dad. We agreed and the next day they made a special trip to present beautiful enlargements of the photos. We were amazed and gratified as we had expected that they would just photocopy them. We plan to make a special effort to thank them.

Tired Hikers Flanked by Umberto Bufalini (left) and Mario Dondero (right)

 

 

Upon arriving in Servigliano with our packed lunch, they offered us an aperitivo at the local cafe/gelateria in the piazza in Servigliano, and Mario gave me some sunflowers he picked along the way which revived nicely at our hotel. We shared a delightful half-hour sipping Campari, always a favourite of Duncan’s father, and snacking upon olives and potato chips at the bar. After taking a few photos with their camera and ours, they explained that they had to leave for Fermo. We headed back into the cafe for well-earned gelato before returning to our hotel. The hike has been exclusively on roads and we suspect that the Germans and the Fascists were more likely to use this route than the escapees! 

 

That evening when we returned to Camp 59 to say goodbye to the MSMT folks who were departing the next morning, we heard that the day had been long, terribly hot and exceedingly difficult with lots of up and down after lunch.  Many participants had sunburn, insect bites and heat rash. We, however, had enjoyed showers and our sandwiches and fruit in Jimmy and Concetta’s garden and though thankful to have missed the afternoon on the trail, felt a bit guilty. We caught up on our email and lounged in our room. Before the group straggled back after 19:00 hours (7 pm), we waited nearly an hour and walked around taking more photos of the camp outbuildings that were standing in 1943. We were so happy to see everyone and to say goodbye to our friends, both old and new.

 

Camp 59 Outbuilding

That evening Concetta outdid herself with a delicious stuffed puff pastry appetizer, baked pasta in homemade tomato sauce and fresh herbs, slices of turkey, potatoes with rosemary and tomato, green beans, a savoury carrot cake with dark chocolate on top and of course many wonderful wines.

 

Trekking from Servigliano to Monte San Martino and Back (24 km)

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Claudia, Duncan, John Simkins, Katie Simkins

 

To prepare for hiking the Freedom Trails, we spent time in the conservation areas around Toronto on the Niagara Escarpment. We bought new collapsible hiking poles and special wicking shirts and socks. Though neither of us likes wearing hats, we were suitably equipped with the latest models. We carried two litres of water each plus a day’s ration of granola bars from our local Costco.  It’s a good thing we brought them because at times my blood sugar dropped and I needed a boost from the glucose to get up the next hill.

 Prudently we made the decision to hike half the distance on the first two days. I have tried many different ways to avoid blisters – to no avail – so I knew if I hiked the entire trail on the first day, I ran the risk of missing the subsequent hikes.  In the morning I greased my toes with Vaseline and padded the persistent calluses under each big toe.

Wreath Laying Ceremony

 

 

 

                                                
Monte San Martino Wreath

                                                                                                                     Wording on Wreath

 

 

Giuseppe Millozzi did an able job of leading our first day walk.  He is the son of the Italian administrator of the San Martino Trust, Antonio Milozzi, who received an honorary MBE (Member of the British Empire) for his work of the last twenty years in Italy on behalf of the Monte San Martino Trust in the UK. After a formal wreath laying ceremony at the war memorial in Servigliano, he led us along an overgrown trail along the Tenna River, stopping to recreate the experiences of some of the Allied soldiers seventy years before. He explained that this was the place they came in the evenings to exchange information about the progress of the war. He called it the “bush telegraph”.  He asked us to imagine what it was like for them especially during that harsh winter of ’43-44 with the snow up over their inadequate footwear.  I felt quite moved for the first time as I thought of the fear and discomfort experienced by all the escapees, but especially my dad. He was only 26 years old and had endured so much in the past months. How relieved he must have felt leaving the camp, but how frightened also. What thoughts must have been running through his head when he left the camp at 22:22 (10:22 p.m.) – the time quoted by Giuseppe when the men fled into the dark night of Sept. 14, 1943? In reading In Combat Unarmed, a memoir, by Keith Killby, I am quite sure that my dad was one of the first to escape. He described shots being fired over his head and this is verified in the book. I know my dad felt they were shooting at him, even though they probably were not.

We passed a farm house where Giuseppe pointed out the faded words from the fascist slogan still visible on the barn wall:  Amate la terra, (la madre), sorgente di vita, di forza, et di felicita (Love the land, the mother, source of life, strength and happiness)

Fascist Slogan Still Visible



It was explained that the soldiers tended to avoid the larger more prosperous looking farms, because generally the wealthier villagers, supported the fascists.  The sign’s presence indicates this was the farm of a fascist supporter though it was quite modest. Giuseppe explained that when the Italians surrendered to the Allies on Sept. 9, 1943, there was much confusion in the country. Initially many of the impoverished country people (poverino), most of whom did not support the fascists, were hoping the war would be over for them.  However this was the beginning of a civil war in Italy that lasted until the end of the war for Italians in April 1945. These dark years featured the Nazi occupation, the rebirth of the fascist party under Pietro Badoglio and the anti-fascists and the fascists battling each other to the death. The country people were caught in the middle of the fray and suffered greatly. Because of their humanity my dad and many others survived.

 During the course of our walks we heard stories and read plaques about the murders that took place in the villages and countryside.  Of course innocent people suffered and died, and that is one of the reasons we are here - to remember and be thankful that that terrible episode in their history is over.

 

Halfway up the road to Monte San Martino, friends of Giuseppe welcomed us to their farm with refreshing drinks of Elderflower cordial, mixed berry tea, water and wine.  Paula (photo left) and Marino Marchese (far right)are shepherds with a small organic cheese making facility. We enjoyed canapés of ricotta  and pecorino topped with various condiments. We found out the next morning that the Concetta and Jimmy, our hosts, get most of their cheese from this couple.  We were most grateful for their warm welcome and good wishes to send us on our way.        

 

The sun was beating on the blacktop road up to the village and all of us were feeling the heat and looking beaten. We paused a few times to wait for stragglers and dragged into Monte San Martino by 13:30 (1:30 pm) for another wreath laying ceremony followed by a hearty lunch put on by the mayor.  We had pasta, salami, cheese, wine, water and delicious cookies. We sat with John, Katie, Letitia Blake , secretary of MSMT, Joe Linehan from ELMS, and Anne and David. Duncan and I worked the crowd, looking for a ride back from Monte San Martino and were relieved that Anne and David readily agreed to take us back to our car in Servigliano.  We squished in with Sir Nicholas Young, Senior British Officer from MSMT and his wife Helen. While chatting the next day, we discovered we were both in the same field. Helen is a Speech Language Pathologist and has spent much of her career working with students with communication difficulties and dyslexia. Initially I was intimidated by “Nick’s” title and the fact that he is CEO of the British Red Cross, but he couldn’t be a more down to earth fellow.

He shared the story of his father, who fled from Fontanellato prison camp along with a New Zealander assisted by two Jewish people who led them through minefields to Switzerland. Unfortunately Allied soldiers mistakenly killed the Jewish helpers and wounded the New Zealander.  Years later, Nicholas was able to connect with the daughter of the Jewish couple.  He also met the son of others who provided refuge to his father. The fellow spoke of his childhood memories balancing on the knee of Nicholas’s father, who gave him peppermints to keep him quiet to avoid revealing their presence to the enemy. Nicholas said that in later years his father always had a packet of peppermints in his pocket. These are the personal anecdotes that bring the wartime experience to life.

 

We drove back to our hotel and after refreshing showers, collapsed on the bed of our darkened room for a siesta since last night was too short, and we were still recovering from jet lag. To my relief I had no new blisters after hiking 12 km.

 

That night we met other guests at the hotel for Prosecco in the garden before enjoying the first of many of Concetta’s delicious meals: appetizer, pasta, main course, dessert with wines to match each course. We won’t lose any weight in spite of all the walking in the extreme temperatures.

September 4, 2013 First Evening

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Upon our arrival in Servigliano we faced challenges trying to find the group on the first evening and missed the opening speeches at the Casa della Memoria, a former train station, where the arriving prisoners were supposedly deloused. According to my dad, the treatment must have been ineffective because he told numerous tales of the discomfort he endured from lice and bedbugs during his six months in the camp!

 Our information stated that we should meet in the bar of the Hotel San Marco at 19:00 hours
(7 pm) with dinner to follow at 20:00 hours (8pm). Fearing we were a bit late, we rushed to the hotel only to find it dark with one or two staff in the foyer. Since we didn’t speak Italian and they didn’t speak English, communication was a challenge.  We did get the words “reunion” and “piazza” accompanied by pointing so we headed out to find the town square inside the city walls. There were a few locals at the cafe near the war memorial, but no “reunion”.  A kind man in the nearby convenience grocery drew a map to show us where the former camp, now a sports field, was located outside the gates.  We said “grazie” and he appeared pleased to say “don’t think about it” in English. We headed off and saw a sign that included the words “centro sportivo, il parco della Pace” and figured that must be the place. After a few false starts we approached an old lady, who upon seeing photos on our smartphone from Dennis’s website, told us to keep going straight. 

 

 

 

Photos taken by Ian McCarthy from Casa Della Memoria Website

 

Our rudimentary Italian and the photos bore fruit and we approached the former Camp 59. Isn’t it great that this place that was a prison camp during the two world wars, later a deportation camp for Jews and finally a refugee camp, is now used for sports and rock concerts?  The Park of Peace!  I was surprised that I didn’t feel sad upon seeing it, but wished I could time-travel back to 1943 to see conditions in the camp for myself. It is impossible to imagine what it was like. I wondered if my dad, had he returned here, would have experienced the post-traumatic stress reported by some of the soldiers who did, in the Camp 59 Survivors website. I believe he would have enjoyed coming back to see the family members who helped him and wonder why he never mentioned their names. I know he did tell me the name of the village when I was younger but to my chagrin, I don’t recall any specific information.



It took us about 15 minutes to walk inside the perimeter of the brick camp walls. Three-quarters of the way around we recognized the repaired hole in the wall indicated by Keith Killby used for the escape on September 14, 1943 and we saw the broken glass that remains on top of some of the walls to remind locals of the camp’s history.  Local youths were using the park as a meeting place but there were no others present. We exited by a side gate and saw the Casa della Memoria, but we didn’t know about the change in plans, so we walked by a few people gathered outside. The Hotel San Marco was still dark but at 20:30 (8:30 pm) a few likely candidates began drifting in. Colonel Mike Davidson from ELMS introduced himself and assured us the others would arrive shortly and that our friend, John and his daughter would be among them. We were happy to meet Anne Copley and David Runciman for the first time. Dennis Hill asked that we seek them out and remember him to them.

Repaired Hole in the Wall Where Many Men Escaped



John Simkins and Katie appeared next and we enjoyed meeting others from  ELMS and San Martino Trust. There were no more speeches, just a fine meal with lovely wines and lively conversation. We made it back to Agriturismo Contrada Durano in the dark with gracious help from Anne by about 11:30 p.m. How would we ever survive the first day of hikes?