Lambeth to Lamsdorf by Robin Green

Author:Robin Green [Robin Green]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781910792148
Publisher: Melrose Books
Published: 2016-07-15T00:00:00+00:00

Main entrance at P.G. 57, Fruili, northern Italy

Our guards assembled us into small groups and marched us off to a series of huts set aside from the main regimented lines of huts. We were to be interrogated, disinfected, deloused, showered and given our P.O.W. number. So this was the end of my journey, PG57, Fruili; at least, so far.

The Chapel at Fruili built by ANZAC prisoners of war 1941 onwards. Recently restored

It was now mid-summer and although we were almost as far north in Italy as we could be, it was very warm indeed, which allowed us to wear the minimum of clothing during the day. This enabled us to spend time repairing damage to our clothes, and of course to thoroughly clean them, ridding us of the accumulated vermin with which we had been infested en route. We caught up on our sleep too. Food was served on a regular basis and, although not my natural choice of diet, was better than that we had received from our guards. Here, at Fruili, we benefited from a portion of the Red Cross parcels.

The Australian and New Zealand prisoners at Fruili had all been taken in North Africa during that campaign under General Wavell or General Montgomery. Many had been there over a year and so knew the ropes. They were a very enterprising group, having made many escape tunnels with some escapees having success. They also built a wonderful stone chapel, small inside but with a very imposing façade. I marvelled at how this was achieved. The interior was set out exactly as one would have expected it to be, with rows of handmade pews overlooked by a large draped altar decorated with candle holders. The Australian and New Zealanders had achieved all of this during their incarceration. It was amazing. 25 These antipodeans seemed very brazen to me and rather brusque, especially the Australians, but we all rubbed together quite well until the day came when we were told to pack up our meagre possessions and board another rickety truck to be taken to Udini station. From there we embarked upon a similar, yet longer, trip crowded into wagons equipped with only the most basic facilities. We settled down to endure the next phase of our travels.

Again, our destination and route were unknown. Many guessed that we would be bound for a German P.O.W. camp in Saxony or Bavaria or even Poland. For us, all we could do was wait, try not to be noticed, and hope that our destination was in the western part of Germany. We knew that the Normandy landings had taken place, as the Aussies at Fruili had homemade crystal set receivers. Were we eventually to wash up at a Stalag in the west of Germany it was more likely that when the Allied advance reached us we would be repatriated at an earlier date than if we were in a camp further East. Time only would tell us the answer to this.

The train taking us somewhere took about two weeks to reach our destination at Moosberg.

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