Legacy of Italian POWs in SA through the eyes of five soldiers
In December 1940, as part of the North Africa campaign, Britain’s Western Desert Force began its advance against the Italians. The offensive ended at the Libyan coastal city of El Agheila on February 7 1941 with the destruction of nine Italian divisions and the capture of 130,000 men. The first of these Italian prisoners of war (POWs) arrived in the Union of SA in early 1941.
For Jan Smuts, prime minister of SA at the time, it was an opportunity to demonstrate the country’s commitment to the Allied effort and solve its labour shortages at the same time by putting the POWs to work on farms and construction projects.
SA’s remoteness was a drawcard for the Allies as the risk of escape was minimal and the POWs could be kept far from active battlefields. Between 1941 and 1947, about 100,000 Italian POWs were held in the Zonderwater camp near Cullinan. Initially planned to be temporary with tents and basic facilities, the camp grew quickly, becoming well organised and capable of accommodating up to 63,000 prisoners at its peak, making it World War 2’s largest Allied POW camp.
In her book Prisoners of Jan Smuts: Italian Prisoners of War in SA in WWII, historian and author Karen Horn tells a compelling story of their lives through the eyes of five soldiers, who documented their experiences in memoirs and letters.
She discusses the challenge of bridging the gap between nostalgic recollections and actual historical events, and the historian’s duty to adhere to evidence. In her author’s note, she writes: “I realised that it is not the hardship these men endured that fascinated me but their ability to live, hope, love and laugh during times of suffering — and even to turn out better men at the end of it.”
In an interview, she spoke about the difficulties of finding living witnesses as so much time had passed. “The language barrier was also a significant challenge. Fortunately, I found a former POW living in Pretoria, and I sourced several Italian-written memoirs, which had to be translated. This was crucial for gaining a deeper understanding of the individuals’ experiences.”
Numerous archival files revealed that the nostalgia about the Italian POWs in SA did not tell the full story. The archives revealed that the presence of many fascists among the prisoners complicated matters, particularly given the sympathies of certain SA factions towards fascist ideologies.
Through the stories of Giovanni Palermo, Pietro Scottu, Luigi Pederzoli, Raffaello Cei and Paolo Ricci, Horn highlights the varied backgrounds and skills of these individuals. From a chef who cooked for builders to a tailor who created costumes for makeshift camp theatres, each account adds a personal touch to the narrative, making the prisoners’ experiences engaging and relatable.
She captures the complex legacy of these POWs in a way that is revealing and also deeply moving. The book not only chronicles their experiences but also examines the broader effect of their presence on SA society. She details these contributions meticulously, portraying a group of men who, despite being captives, contributed to development in various parts of the country.
In his memoir, Cei wrote that during training he had been “like a child playing at war, completely taken by his toys and weapons that shoot without killing. I hadn’t realised that war, the real kind, was looming above my head, and that the entirety of my small world and brief youth were about to be torn apart for good.”
He spoke for many young Italian men, Horn writes, in saying they were not really aware of the “black cloud that loomed over Europe”.
Horn details how, even under difficult conditions, the prisoners succeeded in creating a rich cultural environment. They played sport, set up orchestras and staged plays, creating a semblance community and normalcy despite their imprisonment. This helped maintain morale and preserve their heritage while so far from home.
OPEN HEARTS
The idea that love could conquer all was a popular theme in letters written by desperate lovers, she writes. The letters are evidence of “emotional hardship, lustful liaisons, divorce, young innocents with naively open hearts and unplanned pregnancies”.
Many prisoners chose to remain in SA after the war. They had made friends with farmers, fallen in love with local women and found opportunities more promising than the prospects in post-war Italy.
In the chapter achingly titled “I also need so much to cry”, Cei remembers how an officer tried to prepare them for the return home. The Italy they had left behind was no more. In its place was a new, democratic country. Many young POWs could not imagine Italy without Mussolini, could not dream that they would be able to live their lives without the state interfering.
Cei wrote about their pessimism for the future in a heartbreaking extract: “We felt abandoned by our homeland, abandoned by everyone; degenerate children, forgotten children.”
Ricci and two of his friends decided to stay in SA. Italy was a poor country before the war started, but the situation was far worse when it came to an end. In contrast, SA was thriving. When she asked Ricci about his decision to stay, he became emotional, she writes, and he was never entirely convinced that he’d made the right decision.
TEARS
“His vivid memory of the day the last repatriation train left the station without him remained with him for many years: ‘I was a [SA] civilian already and I was living near the station so I said I want to go see these Italians, my friends, leaving, and I tell you when that train started to shweeesh, I went on my knees and I cried. I think the cement is still wet today.”
Prisoners of Jan Smuts is a masterful blend of personal narratives and historical analysis. It offers a nuanced view of a unique chapter in World War 2 history. For anyone interested in the untold stories of the war, it’s an essential read that enriches one’s understanding of the past’s influence on the present.