Benghazi Prisoner of War Camp

The prisoner of war camp was just outside Benghazi. It was a transit camp under Italian control, described by many as "a hell hole".

2nd Feb 1942 Captured

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Those known to have been held in or employed at
Benghazi Prisoner of War Camp
during the Second World War 1939-1945.

Adams Harry.
Adams William. Spr. (d.18th Sep 1942)
Atkins Thomas Edward.
Davidson DCM.. Douglas. Tpr.
Eisenhauer Wallace J.. Sgt.
Flegg DSM.. Albert.
Frizell John.
Fyfe William.
George F. C..
Gorman Terry. Pte.
Gorman Terry. Pte.
Graham . Sgt.
Green .
Hall . Gdsm.
Harding Robert.
Herrage Douglas.
Hughes MC. J.. Major
Johnstone Arthur.
Kelly John Verdun. Sgt.
Kerr John Lewis.
Khan Nisar Ahmed.
Lavery Stanley James. Pte.
Lewis Martin Albert Henry. Pte.
Marquet Raymond Thomas. W/O.
McDermott . Sgt.
McFarlane Ronald. Pte.
Muldowney . CSM.
Ninow Frederick George. Pte.
Norton Philip Sydney. Sgt Major
Ongley Lynn Sarrell . Sgt.
Orchard. Peter. WO.
Peace Charles.
Prangley Cyril John.
Simpson . Gdsm.
Stoltz Coenraad Willem Frederik . Pte.
Taylor .
Toole John.
Wyatt-Mair Claude.

The names on this list have been submitted by relatives, friends, neighbours and others who wish to remember them, if you have any names to add or any recollections or photos of those listed, please Add a Name to this List

Records from Benghazi Prisoner of War Camp other sources.

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Sgt. Wallace J. Eisenhauer 5th Btn. East Yorkshire Regiment

My Dad, Wallace J. Eisenhauer - who is still alive at the age of 86 - was a POW at the following POW camps until the liberation by Russians: Jacobstahl, Benghazi, Tuturano, Stalag IVB. He has much memorabilia including his POW dog-tag from Stalag IVB and a suberb cloth signed by over 100 fellow POW's ! He collected this whilst encarcerated - so they are original names from over 60 years ago! He was a Sargeant in the 5th Battalion of the East Yorkshire Regiment
I would love to hear from others who are still with us or their relatives.

Marty Eisenhauer

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Sgt. John Verdun Kelly

The following extracts are from the YMCA Wartime Log Book supplied to Sgt John Verdun Kelley. Captured at Tobruk he passed through various Camps- Derna, Benghazi, PG60 Lucca, PG70, Stalag IVB and Stalag 357. Some of the entries are by Kelley others by "guest" writers.
Benghazi

Barren wastes of stony sand
Dry infertile desert land,
Spiked wire on every hand.
Prisoners of War

Ill clad ,unkempt and underfed,
Trading watches and rings for bread,,
With chilly concrete floors for beds,
Prisoners of War

Queueing for hours in blistering heat,
Receiving a morsal of bread and meat,
Glad, even of scraps to eat,
Prisoners of War.

Crowded together like flocks of sheep,
Bullied and driven from dawn to sleep,
Hearts are filled with hatred deep,
Prisoners of War

Cut off from the news of the outside world,
Sifting truth from taunts that are hurled,
Slightly keeping the flag unfurled,
Prisoners of War.

Striving to keep alive their hope.
Finding at times 'tis beyond their scope,
Drugging themselves with rumour dope
Prisoners of War

Setting new values ion trivial things,
The smell of a flower, a skylark that sings
The beauty,the grace of a butterfly's wing
Prisoners of War

Finding life without freedom is vain
'Tis better to die than live ever in chain,
Thank God! For hope of relief once again,
Prisoners of War

Seeing new meaning in higher things,
In life in Christ and the hope He brings
Thus did they treat the King of Kings
Prisoners of War

Finding at last, if you've the eyes to see
This glorious truth fixed by God's decree,
As long as the soul's unchained you're free.
Prisoners of War

June 23 .We awoke after a cold hungry night. The compound larger than Derna and as we were about 1000 more room to move about .In a separate cage near the gate were a party of Indian troops, used in fatigue work for strengthening the wire .In the other corner was a 40ft tower with machine guns.. Each corner had a water tank (empty) and guards patrolled all sides. We were ordered to form groups of 50 and we became N0o 22. Nothing else happened-it got hotter, more rings etc swapped across the wire for water. Someone paid £2 for a quart. Around 2pm the tanks were filled and after queueing for hours we were given a quart each., a groundsheet and 2 short poles . Rations arrived at 5pm - a tin of bully each and 2 small loaves between 3 men. Eat it all or save some? We had begun the trek down Starvation Road.
More new faces arrived and we hoped to move on- we entered hungry men and left weeks later starving wrecks. More searches-this time anything sharp. A few kept back their jackknives or we would have had no way to open the bully cans. Water ration was increased to 3 pint per day, usual ration arrived at 4pm. The cigarette supply started running out!!! Profiteering took over and cigarettes that were selling for 50 piastres for 50 rose to 10piastres each. The guards realized the opportunity and were soon exchanging cigarettes for clothes etc. Sanitary arrangements were just a row of trenches and the smell would become unbearable. Empty day followed empty day ,bored, dirty ad unshaven the main conversation was about food. At the end of the month the Italians issued cigarettes-2 between 6 men!! By rerolling the dogends we made 2 more.
By July 3 morale was low and sickness high , the MO visited but had nothing to teat anyone. Great excitement on July 6 -the RAF bombed the harbour and again on the 9th , lots of shrapnel falling on the camp but no injuries. Now we were so organised that we could make hot meals at night by soaking dry bread ,adding bully and boiling it up. Fuel was the problem, the guards became unhappy about us ripping pieces off the fence posts. The Indian fatigue troops had plenty but at a cost- 2 cigarettes for a small piece and the price of cigarettes was 5 piastres or a shilling each. Another bombing raid on the 11th and a ship hit in the harbour.
Sunday 12th and a service from a South African Padre, though it must have helped it brought everyone back to thinking of home as they took part in a service knowing family at home were doing the same. We were all given Red Cross Cards to fill in, they were handed in but to this day I never heard of any arriving. By now health was getting poor, walking an effort and dizziness when standing. We were dirty, unshaven and lice started to appear. One by one those who had kept rings etc swapped them with the guards for food-tempted by guards holding up loaves of bread The minds of the guards needed understanding, a good watch worth £5 would get maybe 2 loaves but a cheap ring from the Souk costing pennies would get 5 loaves easily Cigarettes became THE currency and money was used for card games until we found the guards would sell 40 cigarettes for £1 Egyptian. Ersatz coffee was added to our rations but what was it? A Cookhouse was also built but could only feed one compound a hot meal per day so we hot meals every third day.
Our first meal was 17 july a pint stodge of rice peas flavoured with olive oil . this cost us half a tin of bully each. The cooks found the dry rice a valuable trade item and were soon exchanging it for cigarettes. Dysentry broke out amongst the weakest but only the worst cases went to hospital I reckon about 60 died. Daily routine- get up when you felt like it, pass the time somehow until rations were drawn at noon, go to bed early to escape the day. Meals were 9am and 5.30pm and a brew of coffee in between (no milk or sugar)..
July 25 the reality of how weak we had become hit home. New latrines were needed to be dug The labour divided up and each man had 2 minutes of digging to do. Mainy were unable to complete even this.. An escape attempt was made by a couple of guys hanging onto the underside of the rubbish truck, unfortunately this went into the next compound where native SA troops saw the guys and crowding round bending down to look resulted in the 2 heroes retuning in chains for 48 hrs.
On July 27 groups from the next cage started to be moved out . July 31 we were given English bully 1 tin between 2 . We knew we would be soon and had started pooling our food to sustain us on the journey. We eat as much as we could and for the first time since capture I felt full. We paraded at 0330 next day, we had our food and 2 gallons of water why go hungry and thirsty? We were marched to the docks, the water weighed a ton but it was good to see the bombing damage that had been done We embarked on the Rosalino Pilo , although modern she soon took on the look of a slave ship as we were crammed into the holds helped by the Libyans standing on anyones fingers if they were slow on the ladders. More fun was had by throwing buckets of sea water at us through the gratings . The heat was stifling and we dreaded the night, a meal of cold fried bread,bully and water arrived at 11am and we sailed at noon.
Next days rationed were lowered in a bucket at 4pm, tin of bully and a pack of biscuits. We were told next stop was Tripoli then across to Naples. The dysentery cases became so bad that in the end they were allowed on deck. We tried to sleep in the heat with the smell of engine oil and engine noise. It was a long night but as dawn approached the hold was silent save for a few groans and moans when I heard an unknown person playing "solitude" on a mouth organ- knowing my feelings and thoughts I could sympathise with him. We were allowed up on deck at 8am and managed to stay there all day, one man was hauled up unconscious and his body was taken off at Tripoli.. Our 11am meal of biscuits and bully seemed good until we saw the meals being taken to the gun crews who were German even though it was an Iti ship. We reached Tripoli at noon
Sgt John Verdun Kelley
Names in the log book from Benghazi:

Sgt Taylor
John Toole
Dougie Herrage
Charlie Peace
Stitch Taylor
Dodger Green
Bill Fyfe
RQMS Bone
CSM Muldowney
Sgt Graham
Sgt Mc Dermott
Gdsman Hall
Gdsman Simpson

Peter Mason.

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Cyril John Prangley Royal Artillery

My Father, Cyril Prangley’s regiment, was ordered to protect the enemy line in Benghazi so all the other regiments could escape. He was captured sometime during 1940 and held in prison in Benghazi. He was transferred by the German army in a boat to mainland Italy and marched to a place called Casserta. To our knowledge he was held as a PoW but classed as "missing presumed dead" for three and a half years. He was repatriation by the Americans at the end of the war. He very rarely spoke of the horrors he saw and the vicious treatment he endured, but recalled on that great morning he awoke to find no German soldiers patrolling the prison camp and the gates wide open and they all just walked out of the gates.

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Pte. Stanley James Lavery 2/28th Btn.

As my father, Stanley Lavery told me: The 2/28th Battalion was surrounded after successfully achieving the objective at Ruin Ridge, El Alamein on 27th-28th of July 1942, and were all taken prisoners by the Germans. We were transported to Benghazi where we were held for 15 days before being transported to Bari, in Italy. We crossed the Mediterranean on the night the Nino Bixio, another transport ship, was hit. On the crossing I organised the men into groups and assisted with passing water down below and pee up on deck in buckets on ropes. At one point someone called out "is this bucket going up or down!" I replied, apparently in a "gruff" voice, "Taste it and see for yourself!!" (other prisoners reminded me of that story after the war). We were 30 days in Bari before being transported to Udine. I spent 4 months in hospital at Udine with pneumonia and the care by the Catholic Nuns was exceptional. After 12 or so months, when the Allies broke through in Italy, the Germans took us to Austria, Stalag 18A, Wolfsberg, where I was assigned to a workcamp, a brickworks at Trieben until the end of the war."

Hugh Lavery

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Tpr. Douglas Davidson DCM. 44th Btn. C Sqn. Royal Tank Regiment

Douglas Davidson was taken prisoner on the 1st of June 1942, near the Knightsbridge Box, during the Battle of Gazala. Within the following month he made four attempts to escape, on the first occasion away from Italians who were guarding a small number of POW sleeping in the open. Although he reached the coast, he was caught by a German patrol and returned to the camp. The following night he made a similar escape but he was again recaptured. A few days later he and six others cut the wire surrounding Durna (Derna) transit camp. Davidson separated from the others and wearing Arab clothing given to him by friendly tribesmen was within sight of British positions when his disguise was seen through by a German patrol.
On his return to camp with three other escapees he was made to face a firing squad, the execution was only stayed by Davidson's direct appeal to the Commandant. In spite of this narrow escape from death he made another attempt on reaching Benghazi camp by crawling through the wire. However he was recaptured the following morning and transferred to Italy.
At the time of the Italian armistice he was at Monteurano (Camp 70) and in accordance with instructions given by the SBO took no action on hearing the news. On the 26th September during transfer to Germany, he jumped from a train near Bologna, through a hole cut in the door of the carriage. Travelling alone to Monte San Vicino he joined a rebel group. Except for one unsuccessful attempt to cross the Maiella in November 1943 he remained with this group of Partisans until he met advancing British troops on the 6th June 1944. Although he was not an NCO Davidson was put in charge of 35 - 50 guerrillas. Other escapees have praised his courage and leadership, one officer reporting that he had a reputation for outstanding courage and daring amongst the most reckless of rebels, who had the most complete confidence in him. In addition in March 1944 it was mainly due to Davidson's efforts that 8 RAF personnel were not captured when a Fascist road block was met during a drive to a rendezvous for sea evacuation.

Mike Davidson

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Pte. Martin Albert Henry Lewis Welch Regiment

My father, Martin Lewis was captured outside Bengazi on 29th of January 1942 and arrived at Weinsburg on 9th October the following year. Leaving the North African port of Tripoli on 23rd of February 1942 he reached Naples four days later and eventually found himself at an Italian POW camp in Capua. When this camp was taken over by German forces he was moved in July 1943 and travelled via Rome, Foggia, Padua, Bologna and Moderna eventually, after several months travelling, reaching Weinsburg on the 9th October. En route to Oflag VA in Germany my father spent time in Strasburg as well as a transit camp near Munich, Stalag VIIA, Moosberg before finally reaching Weinsberg.
Strangely he was placed in a camp for officers for his rank was a private, however he was a gents' hairdresser so perhaps this was the reason he was placed in an Oflag rather than a Stalag POW camp, the latter being for enlisted men as opposed to officers. His war diaries articulate the routine and events of life within a German POW camp which he stated was far tougher than in his previous two camps run by the Italians. There were obviously difficulties he and Other Ranks faced, this being a camp for officers, one example being given just 15 marks per month for working almost daily cutting hair in the camp salon.
Sadly, my father suffered psychologically as time went on in the Weinsberg camp, so much so that on being released in 1945 he had a complete nervous breakdown and never really recovered full mental health during the rest of his life. He died at an early age in 1973 when he took his own life.

Martin Lewis

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Pte. Ronald McFarlane

We have a letter to my grandmother from the Office of the War Records, Pretoria which states that on the Vatican City Radio on 13th of August 1942 Private Ronald McFarlane was still in camp in Benghazi.

Kerry McFarlane

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Thomas Edward Atkins

All I know about my Granddad Thomas Atkins so far is that he was a tank driver, captured on 29th of January 1942 and made POW in Benghazi. He was then moved to a camp in Italy. Apparently, he escaped from there but was recaptured by the Germans and taken to a war camp in Germany. From there, I'm told that he made his way home through France and stayed in France for a couple of months before making his way back home.
He would never talk about the war to us but after insisting once, he only told me that the conditions were bad and they had to burn the lice from under their arms with a lighter/match. He also had a finger missing but I don't know how that happened.

Anita Atkins

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Pte. Frederick George Ninow B Coy 2nd Transvaal Scottish

Memories of Frederick George Ninow - North Africa - ACROMA< GAZALA TOBRUK Submitted by nephew Gregory Ninow'since his passing.
There were rumblings of war in Europe, Hitler was taking over little countries and this greatly upset me. I decided I needed to go to war to help stop this mad man. I was only 17 and when I tried to enlist. The officer told me to go and join the boy scouts. I went around the block and went to see him again, this time I said I was 19, and he said “that’s better” and I was enlisted in the 2nd division of the Transvaal Scottish attached to the British 8th Army.
This was the 5th of August 1940. We trained in a place called Zonderwater near Pretoria. We left South Africa on the 19th April 194l on a 42,000 ton ship called the Mauretania which had been converted for military use. I was thoroughly sea sick and spent most of my time on deck; when I had to eat I would take a deep breath and dash downstairs where the food was, grab what I could, and then back upstairs, it was a miserable trip. The ship stopped at Haydon on the Indian Ocean to refuel, we then sailed through the Red Sea to Port Said and docked at Alexandria, Egypt, on the North African Coast.
We traveled into the desert about 17 miles where we joined with the British Forces and received further training in desert fighting. That night the German Air Force came over and dropped their bombs; we rookies made for our trenches only to discover that the bombs were being dropped 17 miles away on Alexandria but it sure sounded like they were being dropped in our trenches.
Life in the desert was very challenging. We dug a hole in the sand to act as a kitchen, a couple of days later we were standing watching this thin black line from the sky down to the sand little realizing it was the Gumseen Winds (Egyptian word); within 30 minutes we were in the middle of a massive sand storm. We quickly crawled into our tents and when the storm was over we had to dig ourselves out as the sand had covered all the tents. We did not find the kitchen again and there was sand in everything even our food, I think this is the reason I do not like to go camping.
Our food was very meager and only a pint of water a day for drinking, shaving, washing etc. If we complained the British soldiers would say “Hey mate, don’t you know there is a war on”.
We served in different lines of defense and eventually got close enough to the enemy and went on fighting patrols. We built the El Alamein defenses that would eventually stop the Germans advance; it was important to keep this line open because it was situated near the port which was used to bring the soldiers, food and guns, If Germany had taken that port they would have had total control of the area and they already had north of the Mediterranean and Italy. We had to cling to Malta as it was a vital spot. We patrolled right along the Egyptian Coast, Mersa Matruh 240 km (149 miles) west of Alexandria and 222 km from Sallum and 145 km (91 miles) west from Tobruk, and Darnah (also Spelled Derna), west of Tobruk.
We got leave twice during my stay in the area. Once I went into Alexandria, and the second time I went to Cairo. The trip to Cairo gave me the opportunity to go through the Sphinx and the Pyramid, to ride a camel and observe the Egyptian way of life. There was an epidemic of flies that would settle around any moist area of the face; the poor little children had to pull the flies away from their eyes if they wanted to see, and their nostrils and sides of the mouth were also full of flies. The male children were always trying to rent their sisters out to the soldiers.
We were guarding Tobruk one of the main shipping areas. The Germans had already taken the Australian section of the army as prisoners and we were sent to replace them. The Indian section of the army went on patrol outside the gap with 16 infantry tanks; they were captured by Rommel and his forces that put on the Indian uniforms and used the tanks to go through the gap and took control of it.
The Germans surrounded us and we had no defense; our officers had slipped away in the night knowing the end was there. We were left with just the non-commissioned officers who informed us in the morning of the 21st June 1942 that they had surrendered. We were told to destroy as quickly as possible anything we could lay our hands on including the canned food, this aggravated the Germans who marched us 25 miles without stopping to the coastal area with no food or water.
When we arrived at the sea they allowed us to swim in the ocean and the salty sea water increased our thirst. When we finally arrived at the camp they gave us no food or water in an effort to destroy our morale and hopefully stop any desire to escape. This created a certain attitude in my mind and I became somewhat rebellious and after two days I said to my friend “Please come with me; we walked out of the camp, passed two German guards to an enclosure opposite us where the Germans kept their water supplies, picked up a two and four gallon cans of water and walked straight out past the guards who were so shocked they did not even stop us. We shared the water with as many as we could; I think I got about a half a cup of water out of it.
We were then taken from Tobruk to Benghazi where there were two tanks of water, one for the white soldiers and one for the black soldiers. The men had not had water for many days and some of the white soldiers became frenzied, they attacked the tap and tore it right out of the tank causing the water to run into the desert. These men then made for the tank of water that had been allocated for the black soldiers who said "if you want water behave like gentlemen and form a line and we will see that you get water". I was so disgusted at the behavior of the men that I went to my cover and decided it would be better to die than to act like an animal.
We remained in the desert for about 40 days after which we were taken to Italy on Italian cargo ships. They put us in the hold of the ship like a lot of animals and wired the hatch down so that we could not get out; if the ship had been hit there would have been no hope for us. This was a terrible experience as there were no toilets and after about three days the smell became unbearable; add to this my nausea and my sea motion problem which did not help matters.
After a few days we arrived at Brindisi on the western Italian coast, we were transported in cattle trucks to Bari and then to a prison camp called P.G.54 - Fara in Sabina located in the town of just west of Rome (Fara in Sabina is a comune (municipality) in the Province of Rieti in the Italian region Latium, located about 40 km northeast of Rome and about 25 km southwest of Rieti. The Camp was in the town of Passo Corese) - See Appendix for more on P.G. 54
Our food was very meager and consisted of about 7 grains of rice and a quarter leaf of cabbage boiled in water. If one man received more grains of rice than another he went to the grievance committee to complain, we received a slice of bread a day and once a week we got a little piece of butter and a little piece of cheese. Occasionally we got packages from the Red Cross (most of the packages were stolen by the Italians).The packages weighed about I0 lbs. and were divided into four. The dividing would almost cause murder and they would count every raisin. We were not used to much food so when one man ate his entire share at once it killed him. Another man was so hungry he ate grass and died.
We lost so much weight that one day when the men were taking a shower l started laughing - they looked like an H. I happened to look down at myself and stopped laughing as I looked the same. Although we were weak three of us tried to keep our minds clear and our bodies fit by wrestling on a fast mat, taking cold showers and keeping our clothes clean we did everything necessary to prevent us from falling apart. Some of the POW’s sat on rocks near the camp gates day after day; being curious I would ask them "Hey Jack what are you thinking about?" They would answer "Nothing", “What are you looking at", answer "Nothing”, they were like the walking dead and we called them "Gloompers".
The Italian soldiers were a joke. They were afraid of us. One day they had to count us three of the prisoners had escaped. They made us march around the camp between the inner and outer fences. We did it once and when they ordered us to do it again we decided that was enough. The Italian Officer in charge of the soldiers told them to load up their rifles and fix bayonets and instructed them to charge. We were completely at their mercy as we were tightly hemmed in between the two fences. We said “come and try”. They put down their bayonets and stood like scared rabbits. We just walked back to the main camp.
I was in this camp for about twenty-three months. On 11th September 1943 Italy capitulated to the Allied forces. When we woke up in the morning there were no guards as they had all gone away. During the period before the Germans arrived to take over the camp twenty of us walked away from the camp. The next day the Germans recaptured 18 of the men who were down by the river enjoying themselves and took them back to camp. Tom and I were watching this and at the first opportunity we took off walking away from the camp in a westerly direction.
My friend Tom spoke fluent Italian as he was married to a lady from Malta who spoke Italian. We arrived at a freeway and I decided to go across first to see if everything was O.K., as I stepped onto the freeway I saw a German convoy coming around the bend; I jumped back quickly not realizing I was over a ravine and fell straight down through the trees ripping my clothes and body as I fell. When I arrived at the bottom I was scratched all over and naked. Tom went to look for some clothes for me and brought back some pants and a shirt that were on a line near by. We were trying to get to the Allied lines. Some of the Italian people were friendly but I cannot remember what all we ate during the seven months.
One evening we visited a couple of the Italians we knew in a village, we knocked, they said "Avanti" (come in) as we opened the door we saw two German soldiers at the table so we took off. Another time we were at the table eating when two German soldiers came in and sat down to eat, there was nothing we could do, fortunately they took us for Italians as every one was speaking broken Italian, it was a scary experience.
One day a lady had just killed a pig and there were sausages hanging in the rafters; she offered us something to eat but when we saw her pour pigs blood in the pan we took off as hungry as we were. Another person asked us if we were hungry and when we said yes she told us there was a vineyard down the road where we could pick some grapes and a stream where we could get water. Another time a lady offered us some food which consisted of polenta (Polenta is made with ground yellow or white cornmeal) with fresh goat’s cheese on the top and we got up and ran. The Italians would scrub the table and pour the polenta (like a stiff porridge or what South Africans would call mealie meal) directly on the table and then pour a tomatoe sauce over it. Each person was given a fork and you cut out pieces in front of you and ate it.
When we left camp the weather was still warm but we were not adequately dressed for the severe winter as it progressed; we were dressed in very light weight summer clothes and not suitable for traveling in the snow of the mountains. We would have to wade through frozen streams, sleep in shepherds’ cabanas on straw and have to break the ice off our clothes in the morning. One evening after visiting some friends they gave us two paper sacks; we had not traveled far when a German soldier asked us for our papers. We replied in Italian that we had left them at home. He wanted to know what was in the paper sacks and we told him that it was just some old clothes. The soldier did not have a flash light and ordered us to report to the work camp the next morning with our papers. As we left one of us replied O.K. in English, he realized we were not Italian and called "halt" but by then we had run off to the cave we were staying in which was under the road and covered by trees. When we opened the paper sacks we found they contained German uniforms and German food. We buried the uniforms and ate the food. If we had been caught with these things we would have been shot.
The next day a battalion of German soldiers with dogs were searching for us, fortunately the dogs were on leashes making it awkward for them to find us. They spent half the day looking for us then went away. We continued up the mountain until we arrived at an abandoned monastery where we took refuge for some time. Tom was a Catholic, but to protect us he said we wanted to be Catholics and needed god-fathers who he knew would not betray us.
In March 1944 at four o’clock one morning I awoke to the sound of "raus" to find a gun at my head. Some Italian had sold us to the Germans for four thousand lira each. The Germans took us to a village where they interrogated us. I received such a shock that I lost my memory. They took us back to the Italian Camp. The Allies were advancing so they put us in lines of five and marched us out of the camp; when one fellow tried to escape they shot him in both shoulders and forced him to keep his arms up. We marched about 25 miles and those who tried to escape or were even a foot out of line were shot dead. The next morning they marched us back again and we could see how many they had killed. They had not moved the dead and the convoys had run over them and all that was left were their uniforms.
On our return to camp they prepared us to go to Germany in cattle trucks. The first train of P.O.W’s (prisoners of war) was blown up as they crossed a bridge by the Allied forces, who did not know what they there were in the cattle trucks. Some of my fiends were in that train. We went from Turin through Insbruck, Bremmer Pass to Muizeburg (actually Moosburg) near Munich to the camp known as Stalag VIIA (See Appendix for Stalag VIIA).
Some of us were transferred as a working party to Munich where we stayed on a train going from on Marshall Yard to another eventually staying at a school at Versailler Strasse (See Appendix - Google Earth Images) which was next to a Marshall Yard. The Germans asked for someone who understood German to assist in getting the rations for the prisoners. I put up my hand and when they discovered I could not speak German they put a luger to my head and said you have six weeks to learn the language. Of course I learned in a hurry.
This assignment gave me a bit of freedom as I traveled with a guard around the city. The bombing of Munich by the Allies was very heavy and everyday the German guard and I would go to a Shelter during the Air Raid; this one day during an air raid he was talking to a friend and decided we were not going into the shelter, I was not very happy but he carried the gun and I had no option but to stand while he visited with his friend. I suppose without knowing it the Lord was protecting me as the shelter had five direct hits and everyone in it were killed. I seemed to have someone looking after me as bombs were flying all over the station. We were speaking to a party of about 50 Italians and had just moved away from them when they took a direct hit were all killed; around another corner a bomb came through the ceiling and did not explode.
One night I was brazen enough to get in civilian clothes and take a French girl who was forced labor to the Atlantic Palace to a concert. There where German Office all over the place. When I returned to camp I was whistling one of the tunes from the concert; The German Officer in charge called me and asked where I learned that tune – apparently it was a new song. They interrogated me and said they had already interrogated the girl but did not get any information from her. Of course I lost my privileges and had to go out on work parties after that. We went to various areas where the Allies had bombed to clean up. Having learned the language I could understand what was going on and volunteer for the right places to go.
The skies over Munich, Germany, were black with Allied planes dropping, bombs. It looked like Munich was on fire with shaking buildings that crumbled. Three quarters of Munich was destroyed. After the air raids the German soldiers and prisoners would bring large boxes of the dead who had been blown up to a mortuary where I worked, we had to put the parts together and put them in boxes and bury them. The ground was frozen and we dug trenches 3 foot deep to put the boxes in. This was terrible work as the stench of burnt flesh is awful.
The German citizens could request prisoners of war to help repair the damages of the air raids. An old lady (I called her Hackle tooth as she only had one) signed me out to kill a rabbit; I told her she was crazy that I could not kill a rabbit. We became friends and she would sign me out, she would lend me her husbands bicycle and we would ride around Munich looking at the damage done during the air raids. One evening she signed me out telling me that her friend across the river had some American soldiers in her house. She called the friend who let me speak to one of the American soldiers who said he would liberate us in the morning. Sure enough, early next morning they were there. It was a strange sight- one minute the prisoners of war were peeling potatoes with the Germans having the guns, the next the position was reversed and the German soldiers were peeling potatoes and the prisoners of war had the guns.
I was released 7.30 a.m. on May 6th 1945, and weighed about 128 lbs when I arrived home. We left Munich on a DC3 and went to Brussels for a day and arrived in England on the 28th of May 1945. On my return to South Africa the airplane stopped at Khartoum in the Sudan to refuel. As I walked away from the plane I bumped into someone in the dark only to discover that it was my brother Raymond whom I had not seen for 5 years. I resumed my journey home and arrived in Johannesburg on the 10th of June 1945.
At that time my family lived in Cape Town and my father had also joined up, I had not seen him for 5 years as well. I went into the Victoria Hotel to have dinner and as I went through the revolving doors to my utter amazement I bumped into my father. I then went to Cape Town by train to see my family after that long absence.
Summary of Official War Record of Fredrick George Ninow Frederick George Ninow
Union Defence Force 2nd South African Division serving under English 8th Army
Scottish
Rank Private
Company B Coy
Force Number 221527
Age 09-01-1924 19 ½ Years
Enlisted 03-08-1940
Embarked Durban S.S.Mauretania 08-06-1941
Disembarked Suez 20-06-1941
Confirmed Missing in action 20-06-1942
Confirmed captured – Tobruk 21-06-1942
POW – Italy PG 54 Fara in Sabina (town of Passo Carreso)
Escaped after Italian capitulation 8th September 1943
Captured interned in German Stalag VIIB (located Moosburg near Munich)
POW # 132847
Re-Patriated 15-05-1945
Total Time 4 years and 276 days
Discharged 10-08-1945
Medals: Serial 7381, North Africa Star 1941-1942, 1939-1945 Star, The War Medal 1939-1945, Africa Service Medal

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W/O. Raymond Thomas Marquet 75 Squadron

My father, Ray Marquet, joined the RNZAF in 1940 aged 21. He was trained as an observer (gun aimer) at Jervis 1 Bomber school in Ontario Canada passing as a navigator on Ansons and later Wellington bombers.
He flew 13 operations before being shot down over Benghazi on 3rd of April 1942. He and all the crew bailed out safely with only the rear gunner Joe Galland spraining his ankle on impact with the Western Desert. They were taken in by the local tribesmen who initially looked after them, but after a few days alerted the local German troops of their whereabouts (an entire Wellington bomber crew would have been a good prize.)
They were taken to Germany and housed at Dulag Luft where my dad (who was a jazz pianist in his spare time before the war) entertained the troops. He was actually kept there longer than was normal as he was judged to be good for morale.
He was later sent to Stalag Luft 4B where he stayed for 3 1/2 years until the war ended. He never really talked about this time, but when he was demobbed and sent home to NZ he weighed 6 stone (he was a strapping 6 footer before the war).

Julie Dunseath

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Spr. William Adams 233 Field Coy Royal Engineers (d.18th Sep 1942)

William Adams died at the age of 31, he was the husband of Miriam Adams (nee Robinson) of Primrose Jarrow. William is buried in Benghazi War Cemetery.

Vin Mullen

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Harry Adams 4th Btn. Green Howards

Harry Adams served in the 4th Battalion the Green Howards and was a POW in Stalag 8b during WW2.

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Claude Wyatt-Mair British 8th Army

My Dad, Claude Wyatt-Mair wrote a memoir of his time between 1939 and 1945. He was captured in Tobruk and ended up in Stalag 8c and 8b lamsdorf 344. I am trying to locate anyone who knew him.

David Wyatt-Mair

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Pte. Coenraad Willem Frederik "Raadjie" Stoltz Artillery Support 2nd Regiment Botha

I have recently started plotting my grandfather's path through WW2, we knew he served in North Africa but that was it, he never talked about the war. After his death in 1991, I inherited, amongst other things, a stamp collection containing a complete collection of Vatican stamps from 1936 to 1944, a Italian concertina and some letters and photos which turned out to be from his service years. I became really interested and started researching his military career, I found out that information is often scarce even military records are often incomplete.
Here's what I know up to now; he volunteered at age of 26 and was enlisted as cadet into the 2nd Regiment Botha. Basic Training started in February'41 in the Army Cadet Force in Middelburg, Transvaal. In August he was in Durban,tented down on a race course, awaiting transport. The letter does not mentions which one.
On 9 October'41 they embarked the HMS Mauretania, with HMAS Australia as escort, in convoy no: CM20. The ship left the harbor at 13:45.In his letter he mentions "the lady in white sang to us from the pier, the lads we shouting, whistling and waving their appreciation" (translation from Afrikaans). I later found out this lady was Perla Gibson who sang to each and every troop ship coming and going, she was very popular and today there is a memorial on the exact spot were she stood every single day to welcome or sent the boys on their way.
Grandpa disembarked at Suez on 21st and the Regiment was camped at Mersa Matruh. In a letter dated 4 November 1941 he complains about theft "everything not worn on, or tied to your person has a habit of disappearing". He also mentions the dust "the wind pushes the dust into everything, ears, boots, knapsack, even your johns". They where tented up in a "wadi", offering a little protection against the wind and dust.
On the 18th the Regiment was on the move, right flank to the 5th South African brigade, during Crusader. On 23 November'41, after the 5th Brigade was badly mauled at Sidi Rezegh, grandfather was captured by German Armored section, one of almost 3000 captured that day. By 2nd of December, according to his military records, he was confirmed captured and POW at Benghazi. This suggest he was part of the "Thirst march" and was detained in what become known as "The Palms" camp, a filthy, unhealthy bivouac camp between many palm trees, about 5 miles from the harbor.
How he was transported, on which vessel and when, still evades me, however in March'42 he is listed as POW, Camp 52, Chiavari, Italy.(Military records). One letter dated June 1942 mentions a "Ernsten" and "Georgie Loyd", he also talk about "Captain Chilly, Dancing Bob, Jannie Smuts" names he had given to his louse! He mentions the river in which they where occasionally allowed to bath in. What happened to him after September'43 until his arrival in England in 1945 is unclear. Some family legend says he escaped and with a few friends hid in the country side until meeting up with some advancing Allied soldiers. I could however, not find any proof of this. Perhaps somebody out there has more information on this period. And, so the research continue in honor of that special, quiet, gentle, hard working farmer that was my granddad and whose names I proudly bear today Africa Star, 1939-45 Star, War medal, SASM Thank you

Conradt Stoltz

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Sgt. Wallace J. Eisenhauer 5th Btn. East Yorkshire Regiment

My Dad, Wallace J. Eisenhauer - who is still alive at the age of 86 - was a POW at the following POW camps until the liberation by Russians: Jacobstahl, Benghazi, Tuturano, Stalag IVB. He has much memorabilia including his POW dog-tag from Stalag IVB and a suberb cloth signed by over 100 fellow POW's ! He collected this whilst encarcerated - so they are original names from over 60 years ago! He was a Sargeant in the 5th Battalion of the East Yorkshire Regiment
I would love to hear from others who are still with us or their relatives.

Marty Eisenhauer

Sgt. John Verdun Kelly

The following extracts are from the YMCA Wartime Log Book supplied to Sgt John Verdun Kelley. Captured at Tobruk he passed through various Camps- Derna, Benghazi, PG60 Lucca, PG70, Stalag IVB and Stalag 357. Some of the entries are by Kelley others by "guest" writers.
Benghazi

Barren wastes of stony sand
Dry infertile desert land,
Spiked wire on every hand.
Prisoners of War

Ill clad ,unkempt and underfed,
Trading watches and rings for bread,,
With chilly concrete floors for beds,
Prisoners of War

Queueing for hours in blistering heat,
Receiving a morsal of bread and meat,
Glad, even of scraps to eat,
Prisoners of War.

Crowded together like flocks of sheep,
Bullied and driven from dawn to sleep,
Hearts are filled with hatred deep,
Prisoners of War

Cut off from the news of the outside world,
Sifting truth from taunts that are hurled,
Slightly keeping the flag unfurled,
Prisoners of War.

Striving to keep alive their hope.
Finding at times 'tis beyond their scope,
Drugging themselves with rumour dope
Prisoners of War

Setting new values ion trivial things,
The smell of a flower, a skylark that sings
The beauty,the grace of a butterfly's wing
Prisoners of War

Finding life without freedom is vain
'Tis better to die than live ever in chain,
Thank God! For hope of relief once again,
Prisoners of War

Seeing new meaning in higher things,
In life in Christ and the hope He brings
Thus did they treat the King of Kings
Prisoners of War

Finding at last, if you've the eyes to see
This glorious truth fixed by God's decree,
As long as the soul's unchained you're free.
Prisoners of War

June 23 .We awoke after a cold hungry night. The compound larger than Derna and as we were about 1000 more room to move about .In a separate cage near the gate were a party of Indian troops, used in fatigue work for strengthening the wire .In the other corner was a 40ft tower with machine guns.. Each corner had a water tank (empty) and guards patrolled all sides. We were ordered to form groups of 50 and we became N0o 22. Nothing else happened-it got hotter, more rings etc swapped across the wire for water. Someone paid £2 for a quart. Around 2pm the tanks were filled and after queueing for hours we were given a quart each., a groundsheet and 2 short poles . Rations arrived at 5pm - a tin of bully each and 2 small loaves between 3 men. Eat it all or save some? We had begun the trek down Starvation Road.
More new faces arrived and we hoped to move on- we entered hungry men and left weeks later starving wrecks. More searches-this time anything sharp. A few kept back their jackknives or we would have had no way to open the bully cans. Water ration was increased to 3 pint per day, usual ration arrived at 4pm. The cigarette supply started running out!!! Profiteering took over and cigarettes that were selling for 50 piastres for 50 rose to 10piastres each. The guards realized the opportunity and were soon exchanging cigarettes for clothes etc. Sanitary arrangements were just a row of trenches and the smell would become unbearable. Empty day followed empty day ,bored, dirty ad unshaven the main conversation was about food. At the end of the month the Italians issued cigarettes-2 between 6 men!! By rerolling the dogends we made 2 more.
By July 3 morale was low and sickness high , the MO visited but had nothing to teat anyone. Great excitement on July 6 -the RAF bombed the harbour and again on the 9th , lots of shrapnel falling on the camp but no injuries. Now we were so organised that we could make hot meals at night by soaking dry bread ,adding bully and boiling it up. Fuel was the problem, the guards became unhappy about us ripping pieces off the fence posts. The Indian fatigue troops had plenty but at a cost- 2 cigarettes for a small piece and the price of cigarettes was 5 piastres or a shilling each. Another bombing raid on the 11th and a ship hit in the harbour.
Sunday 12th and a service from a South African Padre, though it must have helped it brought everyone back to thinking of home as they took part in a service knowing family at home were doing the same. We were all given Red Cross Cards to fill in, they were handed in but to this day I never heard of any arriving. By now health was getting poor, walking an effort and dizziness when standing. We were dirty, unshaven and lice started to appear. One by one those who had kept rings etc swapped them with the guards for food-tempted by guards holding up loaves of bread The minds of the guards needed understanding, a good watch worth £5 would get maybe 2 loaves but a cheap ring from the Souk costing pennies would get 5 loaves easily Cigarettes became THE currency and money was used for card games until we found the guards would sell 40 cigarettes for £1 Egyptian. Ersatz coffee was added to our rations but what was it? A Cookhouse was also built but could only feed one compound a hot meal per day so we hot meals every third day.
Our first meal was 17 july a pint stodge of rice peas flavoured with olive oil . this cost us half a tin of bully each. The cooks found the dry rice a valuable trade item and were soon exchanging it for cigarettes. Dysentry broke out amongst the weakest but only the worst cases went to hospital I reckon about 60 died. Daily routine- get up when you felt like it, pass the time somehow until rations were drawn at noon, go to bed early to escape the day. Meals were 9am and 5.30pm and a brew of coffee in between (no milk or sugar)..
July 25 the reality of how weak we had become hit home. New latrines were needed to be dug The labour divided up and each man had 2 minutes of digging to do. Mainy were unable to complete even this.. An escape attempt was made by a couple of guys hanging onto the underside of the rubbish truck, unfortunately this went into the next compound where native SA troops saw the guys and crowding round bending down to look resulted in the 2 heroes retuning in chains for 48 hrs.
On July 27 groups from the next cage started to be moved out . July 31 we were given English bully 1 tin between 2 . We knew we would be soon and had started pooling our food to sustain us on the journey. We eat as much as we could and for the first time since capture I felt full. We paraded at 0330 next day, we had our food and 2 gallons of water why go hungry and thirsty? We were marched to the docks, the water weighed a ton but it was good to see the bombing damage that had been done We embarked on the Rosalino Pilo , although modern she soon took on the look of a slave ship as we were crammed into the holds helped by the Libyans standing on anyones fingers if they were slow on the ladders. More fun was had by throwing buckets of sea water at us through the gratings . The heat was stifling and we dreaded the night, a meal of cold fried bread,bully and water arrived at 11am and we sailed at noon.
Next days rationed were lowered in a bucket at 4pm, tin of bully and a pack of biscuits. We were told next stop was Tripoli then across to Naples. The dysentery cases became so bad that in the end they were allowed on deck. We tried to sleep in the heat with the smell of engine oil and engine noise. It was a long night but as dawn approached the hold was silent save for a few groans and moans when I heard an unknown person playing "solitude" on a mouth organ- knowing my feelings and thoughts I could sympathise with him. We were allowed up on deck at 8am and managed to stay there all day, one man was hauled up unconscious and his body was taken off at Tripoli.. Our 11am meal of biscuits and bully seemed good until we saw the meals being taken to the gun crews who were German even though it was an Iti ship. We reached Tripoli at noon
Sgt John Verdun Kelley
Names in the log book from Benghazi:

Sgt Taylor
John Toole
Dougie Herrage
Charlie Peace
Stitch Taylor
Dodger Green
Bill Fyfe
RQMS Bone
CSM Muldowney
Sgt Graham
Sgt Mc Dermott
Gdsman Hall
Gdsman Simpson

Peter Mason.

Cyril John Prangley Royal Artillery

My Father, Cyril Prangley’s regiment, was ordered to protect the enemy line in Benghazi so all the other regiments could escape. He was captured sometime during 1940 and held in prison in Benghazi. He was transferred by the German army in a boat to mainland Italy and marched to a place called Casserta. To our knowledge he was held as a PoW but classed as "missing presumed dead" for three and a half years. He was repatriation by the Americans at the end of the war. He very rarely spoke of the horrors he saw and the vicious treatment he endured, but recalled on that great morning he awoke to find no German soldiers patrolling the prison camp and the gates wide open and they all just walked out of the gates.

Pte. Stanley James Lavery 2/28th Btn.

As my father, Stanley Lavery told me: The 2/28th Battalion was surrounded after successfully achieving the objective at Ruin Ridge, El Alamein on 27th-28th of July 1942, and were all taken prisoners by the Germans. We were transported to Benghazi where we were held for 15 days before being transported to Bari, in Italy. We crossed the Mediterranean on the night the Nino Bixio, another transport ship, was hit. On the crossing I organised the men into groups and assisted with passing water down below and pee up on deck in buckets on ropes. At one point someone called out "is this bucket going up or down!" I replied, apparently in a "gruff" voice, "Taste it and see for yourself!!" (other prisoners reminded me of that story after the war). We were 30 days in Bari before being transported to Udine. I spent 4 months in hospital at Udine with pneumonia and the care by the Catholic Nuns was exceptional. After 12 or so months, when the Allies broke through in Italy, the Germans took us to Austria, Stalag 18A, Wolfsberg, where I was assigned to a workcamp, a brickworks at Trieben until the end of the war."

Hugh Lavery

Tpr. Douglas Davidson DCM. 44th Btn. C Sqn. Royal Tank Regiment

Douglas Davidson was taken prisoner on the 1st of June 1942, near the Knightsbridge Box, during the Battle of Gazala. Within the following month he made four attempts to escape, on the first occasion away from Italians who were guarding a small number of POW sleeping in the open. Although he reached the coast, he was caught by a German patrol and returned to the camp. The following night he made a similar escape but he was again recaptured. A few days later he and six others cut the wire surrounding Durna (Derna) transit camp. Davidson separated from the others and wearing Arab clothing given to him by friendly tribesmen was within sight of British positions when his disguise was seen through by a German patrol.
On his return to camp with three other escapees he was made to face a firing squad, the execution was only stayed by Davidson's direct appeal to the Commandant. In spite of this narrow escape from death he made another attempt on reaching Benghazi camp by crawling through the wire. However he was recaptured the following morning and transferred to Italy.
At the time of the Italian armistice he was at Monteurano (Camp 70) and in accordance with instructions given by the SBO took no action on hearing the news. On the 26th September during transfer to Germany, he jumped from a train near Bologna, through a hole cut in the door of the carriage. Travelling alone to Monte San Vicino he joined a rebel group. Except for one unsuccessful attempt to cross the Maiella in November 1943 he remained with this group of Partisans until he met advancing British troops on the 6th June 1944. Although he was not an NCO Davidson was put in charge of 35 - 50 guerrillas. Other escapees have praised his courage and leadership, one officer reporting that he had a reputation for outstanding courage and daring amongst the most reckless of rebels, who had the most complete confidence in him. In addition in March 1944 it was mainly due to Davidson's efforts that 8 RAF personnel were not captured when a Fascist road block was met during a drive to a rendezvous for sea evacuation.

Mike Davidson

Pte. Martin Albert Henry Lewis Welch Regiment

My father, Martin Lewis was captured outside Bengazi on 29th of January 1942 and arrived at Weinsburg on 9th October the following year. Leaving the North African port of Tripoli on 23rd of February 1942 he reached Naples four days later and eventually found himself at an Italian POW camp in Capua. When this camp was taken over by German forces he was moved in July 1943 and travelled via Rome, Foggia, Padua, Bologna and Moderna eventually, after several months travelling, reaching Weinsburg on the 9th October. En route to Oflag VA in Germany my father spent time in Strasburg as well as a transit camp near Munich, Stalag VIIA, Moosberg before finally reaching Weinsberg.
Strangely he was placed in a camp for officers for his rank was a private, however he was a gents' hairdresser so perhaps this was the reason he was placed in an Oflag rather than a Stalag POW camp, the latter being for enlisted men as opposed to officers. His war diaries articulate the routine and events of life within a German POW camp which he stated was far tougher than in his previous two camps run by the Italians. There were obviously difficulties he and Other Ranks faced, this being a camp for officers, one example being given just 15 marks per month for working almost daily cutting hair in the camp salon.
Sadly, my father suffered psychologically as time went on in the Weinsberg camp, so much so that on being released in 1945 he had a complete nervous breakdown and never really recovered full mental health during the rest of his life. He died at an early age in 1973 when he took his own life.

Martin Lewis

Pte. Ronald McFarlane

We have a letter to my grandmother from the Office of the War Records, Pretoria which states that on the Vatican City Radio on 13th of August 1942 Private Ronald McFarlane was still in camp in Benghazi.

Kerry McFarlane

Thomas Edward Atkins

All I know about my Granddad Thomas Atkins so far is that he was a tank driver, captured on 29th of January 1942 and made POW in Benghazi. He was then moved to a camp in Italy. Apparently, he escaped from there but was recaptured by the Germans and taken to a war camp in Germany. From there, I'm told that he made his way home through France and stayed in France for a couple of months before making his way back home.
He would never talk about the war to us but after insisting once, he only told me that the conditions were bad and they had to burn the lice from under their arms with a lighter/match. He also had a finger missing but I don't know how that happened.

Anita Atkins

Pte. Frederick George Ninow B Coy 2nd Transvaal Scottish

Memories of Frederick George Ninow - North Africa - ACROMA< GAZALA TOBRUK Submitted by nephew Gregory Ninow'since his passing.
There were rumblings of war in Europe, Hitler was taking over little countries and this greatly upset me. I decided I needed to go to war to help stop this mad man. I was only 17 and when I tried to enlist. The officer told me to go and join the boy scouts. I went around the block and went to see him again, this time I said I was 19, and he said “that’s better” and I was enlisted in the 2nd division of the Transvaal Scottish attached to the British 8th Army.
This was the 5th of August 1940. We trained in a place called Zonderwater near Pretoria. We left South Africa on the 19th April 194l on a 42,000 ton ship called the Mauretania which had been converted for military use. I was thoroughly sea sick and spent most of my time on deck; when I had to eat I would take a deep breath and dash downstairs where the food was, grab what I could, and then back upstairs, it was a miserable trip. The ship stopped at Haydon on the Indian Ocean to refuel, we then sailed through the Red Sea to Port Said and docked at Alexandria, Egypt, on the North African Coast.
We traveled into the desert about 17 miles where we joined with the British Forces and received further training in desert fighting. That night the German Air Force came over and dropped their bombs; we rookies made for our trenches only to discover that the bombs were being dropped 17 miles away on Alexandria but it sure sounded like they were being dropped in our trenches.
Life in the desert was very challenging. We dug a hole in the sand to act as a kitchen, a couple of days later we were standing watching this thin black line from the sky down to the sand little realizing it was the Gumseen Winds (Egyptian word); within 30 minutes we were in the middle of a massive sand storm. We quickly crawled into our tents and when the storm was over we had to dig ourselves out as the sand had covered all the tents. We did not find the kitchen again and there was sand in everything even our food, I think this is the reason I do not like to go camping.
Our food was very meager and only a pint of water a day for drinking, shaving, washing etc. If we complained the British soldiers would say “Hey mate, don’t you know there is a war on”.
We served in different lines of defense and eventually got close enough to the enemy and went on fighting patrols. We built the El Alamein defenses that would eventually stop the Germans advance; it was important to keep this line open because it was situated near the port which was used to bring the soldiers, food and guns, If Germany had taken that port they would have had total control of the area and they already had north of the Mediterranean and Italy. We had to cling to Malta as it was a vital spot. We patrolled right along the Egyptian Coast, Mersa Matruh 240 km (149 miles) west of Alexandria and 222 km from Sallum and 145 km (91 miles) west from Tobruk, and Darnah (also Spelled Derna), west of Tobruk.
We got leave twice during my stay in the area. Once I went into Alexandria, and the second time I went to Cairo. The trip to Cairo gave me the opportunity to go through the Sphinx and the Pyramid, to ride a camel and observe the Egyptian way of life. There was an epidemic of flies that would settle around any moist area of the face; the poor little children had to pull the flies away from their eyes if they wanted to see, and their nostrils and sides of the mouth were also full of flies. The male children were always trying to rent their sisters out to the soldiers.
We were guarding Tobruk one of the main shipping areas. The Germans had already taken the Australian section of the army as prisoners and we were sent to replace them. The Indian section of the army went on patrol outside the gap with 16 infantry tanks; they were captured by Rommel and his forces that put on the Indian uniforms and used the tanks to go through the gap and took control of it.
The Germans surrounded us and we had no defense; our officers had slipped away in the night knowing the end was there. We were left with just the non-commissioned officers who informed us in the morning of the 21st June 1942 that they had surrendered. We were told to destroy as quickly as possible anything we could lay our hands on including the canned food, this aggravated the Germans who marched us 25 miles without stopping to the coastal area with no food or water.
When we arrived at the sea they allowed us to swim in the ocean and the salty sea water increased our thirst. When we finally arrived at the camp they gave us no food or water in an effort to destroy our morale and hopefully stop any desire to escape. This created a certain attitude in my mind and I became somewhat rebellious and after two days I said to my friend “Please come with me; we walked out of the camp, passed two German guards to an enclosure opposite us where the Germans kept their water supplies, picked up a two and four gallon cans of water and walked straight out past the guards who were so shocked they did not even stop us. We shared the water with as many as we could; I think I got about a half a cup of water out of it.
We were then taken from Tobruk to Benghazi where there were two tanks of water, one for the white soldiers and one for the black soldiers. The men had not had water for many days and some of the white soldiers became frenzied, they attacked the tap and tore it right out of the tank causing the water to run into the desert. These men then made for the tank of water that had been allocated for the black soldiers who said "if you want water behave like gentlemen and form a line and we will see that you get water". I was so disgusted at the behavior of the men that I went to my cover and decided it would be better to die than to act like an animal.
We remained in the desert for about 40 days after which we were taken to Italy on Italian cargo ships. They put us in the hold of the ship like a lot of animals and wired the hatch down so that we could not get out; if the ship had been hit there would have been no hope for us. This was a terrible experience as there were no toilets and after about three days the smell became unbearable; add to this my nausea and my sea motion problem which did not help matters.
After a few days we arrived at Brindisi on the western Italian coast, we were transported in cattle trucks to Bari and then to a prison camp called P.G.54 - Fara in Sabina located in the town of just west of Rome (Fara in Sabina is a comune (municipality) in the Province of Rieti in the Italian region Latium, located about 40 km northeast of Rome and about 25 km southwest of Rieti. The Camp was in the town of Passo Corese) - See Appendix for more on P.G. 54
Our food was very meager and consisted of about 7 grains of rice and a quarter leaf of cabbage boiled in water. If one man received more grains of rice than another he went to the grievance committee to complain, we received a slice of bread a day and once a week we got a little piece of butter and a little piece of cheese. Occasionally we got packages from the Red Cross (most of the packages were stolen by the Italians).The packages weighed about I0 lbs. and were divided into four. The dividing would almost cause murder and they would count every raisin. We were not used to much food so when one man ate his entire share at once it killed him. Another man was so hungry he ate grass and died.
We lost so much weight that one day when the men were taking a shower l started laughing - they looked like an H. I happened to look down at myself and stopped laughing as I looked the same. Although we were weak three of us tried to keep our minds clear and our bodies fit by wrestling on a fast mat, taking cold showers and keeping our clothes clean we did everything necessary to prevent us from falling apart. Some of the POW’s sat on rocks near the camp gates day after day; being curious I would ask them "Hey Jack what are you thinking about?" They would answer "Nothing", “What are you looking at", answer "Nothing”, they were like the walking dead and we called them "Gloompers".
The Italian soldiers were a joke. They were afraid of us. One day they had to count us three of the prisoners had escaped. They made us march around the camp between the inner and outer fences. We did it once and when they ordered us to do it again we decided that was enough. The Italian Officer in charge of the soldiers told them to load up their rifles and fix bayonets and instructed them to charge. We were completely at their mercy as we were tightly hemmed in between the two fences. We said “come and try”. They put down their bayonets and stood like scared rabbits. We just walked back to the main camp.
I was in this camp for about twenty-three months. On 11th September 1943 Italy capitulated to the Allied forces. When we woke up in the morning there were no guards as they had all gone away. During the period before the Germans arrived to take over the camp twenty of us walked away from the camp. The next day the Germans recaptured 18 of the men who were down by the river enjoying themselves and took them back to camp. Tom and I were watching this and at the first opportunity we took off walking away from the camp in a westerly direction.
My friend Tom spoke fluent Italian as he was married to a lady from Malta who spoke Italian. We arrived at a freeway and I decided to go across first to see if everything was O.K., as I stepped onto the freeway I saw a German convoy coming around the bend; I jumped back quickly not realizing I was over a ravine and fell straight down through the trees ripping my clothes and body as I fell. When I arrived at the bottom I was scratched all over and naked. Tom went to look for some clothes for me and brought back some pants and a shirt that were on a line near by. We were trying to get to the Allied lines. Some of the Italian people were friendly but I cannot remember what all we ate during the seven months.
One evening we visited a couple of the Italians we knew in a village, we knocked, they said "Avanti" (come in) as we opened the door we saw two German soldiers at the table so we took off. Another time we were at the table eating when two German soldiers came in and sat down to eat, there was nothing we could do, fortunately they took us for Italians as every one was speaking broken Italian, it was a scary experience.
One day a lady had just killed a pig and there were sausages hanging in the rafters; she offered us something to eat but when we saw her pour pigs blood in the pan we took off as hungry as we were. Another person asked us if we were hungry and when we said yes she told us there was a vineyard down the road where we could pick some grapes and a stream where we could get water. Another time a lady offered us some food which consisted of polenta (Polenta is made with ground yellow or white cornmeal) with fresh goat’s cheese on the top and we got up and ran. The Italians would scrub the table and pour the polenta (like a stiff porridge or what South Africans would call mealie meal) directly on the table and then pour a tomatoe sauce over it. Each person was given a fork and you cut out pieces in front of you and ate it.
When we left camp the weather was still warm but we were not adequately dressed for the severe winter as it progressed; we were dressed in very light weight summer clothes and not suitable for traveling in the snow of the mountains. We would have to wade through frozen streams, sleep in shepherds’ cabanas on straw and have to break the ice off our clothes in the morning. One evening after visiting some friends they gave us two paper sacks; we had not traveled far when a German soldier asked us for our papers. We replied in Italian that we had left them at home. He wanted to know what was in the paper sacks and we told him that it was just some old clothes. The soldier did not have a flash light and ordered us to report to the work camp the next morning with our papers. As we left one of us replied O.K. in English, he realized we were not Italian and called "halt" but by then we had run off to the cave we were staying in which was under the road and covered by trees. When we opened the paper sacks we found they contained German uniforms and German food. We buried the uniforms and ate the food. If we had been caught with these things we would have been shot.
The next day a battalion of German soldiers with dogs were searching for us, fortunately the dogs were on leashes making it awkward for them to find us. They spent half the day looking for us then went away. We continued up the mountain until we arrived at an abandoned monastery where we took refuge for some time. Tom was a Catholic, but to protect us he said we wanted to be Catholics and needed god-fathers who he knew would not betray us.
In March 1944 at four o’clock one morning I awoke to the sound of "raus" to find a gun at my head. Some Italian had sold us to the Germans for four thousand lira each. The Germans took us to a village where they interrogated us. I received such a shock that I lost my memory. They took us back to the Italian Camp. The Allies were advancing so they put us in lines of five and marched us out of the camp; when one fellow tried to escape they shot him in both shoulders and forced him to keep his arms up. We marched about 25 miles and those who tried to escape or were even a foot out of line were shot dead. The next morning they marched us back again and we could see how many they had killed. They had not moved the dead and the convoys had run over them and all that was left were their uniforms.
On our return to camp they prepared us to go to Germany in cattle trucks. The first train of P.O.W’s (prisoners of war) was blown up as they crossed a bridge by the Allied forces, who did not know what they there were in the cattle trucks. Some of my fiends were in that train. We went from Turin through Insbruck, Bremmer Pass to Muizeburg (actually Moosburg) near Munich to the camp known as Stalag VIIA (See Appendix for Stalag VIIA).
Some of us were transferred as a working party to Munich where we stayed on a train going from on Marshall Yard to another eventually staying at a school at Versailler Strasse (See Appendix - Google Earth Images) which was next to a Marshall Yard. The Germans asked for someone who understood German to assist in getting the rations for the prisoners. I put up my hand and when they discovered I could not speak German they put a luger to my head and said you have six weeks to learn the language. Of course I learned in a hurry.
This assignment gave me a bit of freedom as I traveled with a guard around the city. The bombing of Munich by the Allies was very heavy and everyday the German guard and I would go to a Shelter during the Air Raid; this one day during an air raid he was talking to a friend and decided we were not going into the shelter, I was not very happy but he carried the gun and I had no option but to stand while he visited with his friend. I suppose without knowing it the Lord was protecting me as the shelter had five direct hits and everyone in it were killed. I seemed to have someone looking after me as bombs were flying all over the station. We were speaking to a party of about 50 Italians and had just moved away from them when they took a direct hit were all killed; around another corner a bomb came through the ceiling and did not explode.
One night I was brazen enough to get in civilian clothes and take a French girl who was forced labor to the Atlantic Palace to a concert. There where German Office all over the place. When I returned to camp I was whistling one of the tunes from the concert; The German Officer in charge called me and asked where I learned that tune – apparently it was a new song. They interrogated me and said they had already interrogated the girl but did not get any information from her. Of course I lost my privileges and had to go out on work parties after that. We went to various areas where the Allies had bombed to clean up. Having learned the language I could understand what was going on and volunteer for the right places to go.
The skies over Munich, Germany, were black with Allied planes dropping, bombs. It looked like Munich was on fire with shaking buildings that crumbled. Three quarters of Munich was destroyed. After the air raids the German soldiers and prisoners would bring large boxes of the dead who had been blown up to a mortuary where I worked, we had to put the parts together and put them in boxes and bury them. The ground was frozen and we dug trenches 3 foot deep to put the boxes in. This was terrible work as the stench of burnt flesh is awful.
The German citizens could request prisoners of war to help repair the damages of the air raids. An old lady (I called her Hackle tooth as she only had one) signed me out to kill a rabbit; I told her she was crazy that I could not kill a rabbit. We became friends and she would sign me out, she would lend me her husbands bicycle and we would ride around Munich looking at the damage done during the air raids. One evening she signed me out telling me that her friend across the river had some American soldiers in her house. She called the friend who let me speak to one of the American soldiers who said he would liberate us in the morning. Sure enough, early next morning they were there. It was a strange sight- one minute the prisoners of war were peeling potatoes with the Germans having the guns, the next the position was reversed and the German soldiers were peeling potatoes and the prisoners of war had the guns.
I was released 7.30 a.m. on May 6th 1945, and weighed about 128 lbs when I arrived home. We left Munich on a DC3 and went to Brussels for a day and arrived in England on the 28th of May 1945. On my return to South Africa the airplane stopped at Khartoum in the Sudan to refuel. As I walked away from the plane I bumped into someone in the dark only to discover that it was my brother Raymond whom I had not seen for 5 years. I resumed my journey home and arrived in Johannesburg on the 10th of June 1945.
At that time my family lived in Cape Town and my father had also joined up, I had not seen him for 5 years as well. I went into the Victoria Hotel to have dinner and as I went through the revolving doors to my utter amazement I bumped into my father. I then went to Cape Town by train to see my family after that long absence.
Summary of Official War Record of Fredrick George Ninow Frederick George Ninow
Union Defence Force 2nd South African Division serving under English 8th Army
Scottish
Rank Private
Company B Coy
Force Number 221527
Age 09-01-1924 19 ½ Years
Enlisted 03-08-1940
Embarked Durban S.S.Mauretania 08-06-1941
Disembarked Suez 20-06-1941
Confirmed Missing in action 20-06-1942
Confirmed captured – Tobruk 21-06-1942
POW – Italy PG 54 Fara in Sabina (town of Passo Carreso)
Escaped after Italian capitulation 8th September 1943
Captured interned in German Stalag VIIB (located Moosburg near Munich)
POW # 132847
Re-Patriated 15-05-1945
Total Time 4 years and 276 days
Discharged 10-08-1945
Medals: Serial 7381, North Africa Star 1941-1942, 1939-1945 Star, The War Medal 1939-1945, Africa Service Medal

W/O. Raymond Thomas Marquet 75 Squadron

My father, Ray Marquet, joined the RNZAF in 1940 aged 21. He was trained as an observer (gun aimer) at Jervis 1 Bomber school in Ontario Canada passing as a navigator on Ansons and later Wellington bombers.
He flew 13 operations before being shot down over Benghazi on 3rd of April 1942. He and all the crew bailed out safely with only the rear gunner Joe Galland spraining his ankle on impact with the Western Desert. They were taken in by the local tribesmen who initially looked after them, but after a few days alerted the local German troops of their whereabouts (an entire Wellington bomber crew would have been a good prize.)
They were taken to Germany and housed at Dulag Luft where my dad (who was a jazz pianist in his spare time before the war) entertained the troops. He was actually kept there longer than was normal as he was judged to be good for morale.
He was later sent to Stalag Luft 4B where he stayed for 3 1/2 years until the war ended. He never really talked about this time, but when he was demobbed and sent home to NZ he weighed 6 stone (he was a strapping 6 footer before the war).

Julie Dunseath

Spr. William Adams 233 Field Coy Royal Engineers (d.18th Sep 1942)

William Adams died at the age of 31, he was the husband of Miriam Adams (nee Robinson) of Primrose Jarrow. William is buried in Benghazi War Cemetery.

Vin Mullen

Harry Adams 4th Btn. Green Howards

Harry Adams served in the 4th Battalion the Green Howards and was a POW in Stalag 8b during WW2.

Claude Wyatt-Mair British 8th Army

My Dad, Claude Wyatt-Mair wrote a memoir of his time between 1939 and 1945. He was captured in Tobruk and ended up in Stalag 8c and 8b lamsdorf 344. I am trying to locate anyone who knew him.

David Wyatt-Mair

Pte. Coenraad Willem Frederik "Raadjie" Stoltz Artillery Support 2nd Regiment Botha

I have recently started plotting my grandfather's path through WW2, we knew he served in North Africa but that was it, he never talked about the war. After his death in 1991, I inherited, amongst other things, a stamp collection containing a complete collection of Vatican stamps from 1936 to 1944, a Italian concertina and some letters and photos which turned out to be from his service years. I became really interested and started researching his military career, I found out that information is often scarce even military records are often incomplete.
Here's what I know up to now; he volunteered at age of 26 and was enlisted as cadet into the 2nd Regiment Botha. Basic Training started in February'41 in the Army Cadet Force in Middelburg, Transvaal. In August he was in Durban,tented down on a race course, awaiting transport. The letter does not mentions which one.
On 9 October'41 they embarked the HMS Mauretania, with HMAS Australia as escort, in convoy no: CM20. The ship left the harbor at 13:45.In his letter he mentions "the lady in white sang to us from the pier, the lads we shouting, whistling and waving their appreciation" (translation from Afrikaans). I later found out this lady was Perla Gibson who sang to each and every troop ship coming and going, she was very popular and today there is a memorial on the exact spot were she stood every single day to welcome or sent the boys on their way.
Grandpa disembarked at Suez on 21st and the Regiment was camped at Mersa Matruh. In a letter dated 4 November 1941 he complains about theft "everything not worn on, or tied to your person has a habit of disappearing". He also mentions the dust "the wind pushes the dust into everything, ears, boots, knapsack, even your johns". They where tented up in a "wadi", offering a little protection against the wind and dust.
On the 18th the Regiment was on the move, right flank to the 5th South African brigade, during Crusader. On 23 November'41, after the 5th Brigade was badly mauled at Sidi Rezegh, grandfather was captured by German Armored section, one of almost 3000 captured that day. By 2nd of December, according to his military records, he was confirmed captured and POW at Benghazi. This suggest he was part of the "Thirst march" and was detained in what become known as "The Palms" camp, a filthy, unhealthy bivouac camp between many palm trees, about 5 miles from the harbor.
How he was transported, on which vessel and when, still evades me, however in March'42 he is listed as POW, Camp 52, Chiavari, Italy.(Military records). One letter dated June 1942 mentions a "Ernsten" and "Georgie Loyd", he also talk about "Captain Chilly, Dancing Bob, Jannie Smuts" names he had given to his louse! He mentions the river in which they where occasionally allowed to bath in. What happened to him after September'43 until his arrival in England in 1945 is unclear. Some family legend says he escaped and with a few friends hid in the country side until meeting up with some advancing Allied soldiers. I could however, not find any proof of this. Perhaps somebody out there has more information on this period. And, so the research continue in honor of that special, quiet, gentle, hard working farmer that was my granddad and whose names I proudly bear today Africa Star, 1939-45 Star, War medal, SASM Thank you

Conradt Stoltz

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Benghazi Prisoner of War Camp

Those known to have been held in or employed at
Benghazi Prisoner of War Camp
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The Wartime Memories Project - Benghazi Prisoner of War Camp during the Second World War -

Benghazi Prisoner of War Camp

Those known to have been held in or employed at Benghazi Prisoner of War Campduring the Second World War 1939-1945.

The Wartime Memories Project is the original WW1 and WW2 commemoration website.

Announcements

Want to know more about Benghazi Prisoner of War Camp?

Benghazi

Benghazi

Recomended Reading.

Links

The Wartime Memories Project
- Benghazi Prisoner of War Camp during the Second World War -

Those known to have been held in or employed at
Benghazi Prisoner of War Camp
during the Second World War 1939-1945.