Here's my 'afternoon light' shot converted into b&w - critique welcome.**
Our family lived for generations in Suffolk. Apart from my paternal great grandfather and great great grandfather who were thatchers, the men in our family worked as agricultural labourers.
My father was born near Ipswich and lived in or near that town all his life. In October 1942, he was a PoW in a camp in Benghazi. From his diaries:
"On Tues 20-10-42, we were informed that the whole camp was moving to another camp built on higher ground. We packed our tents and moved towards the gate. After a long wait there, we learnt the move was off for that day and would take place the next day. We put up our tents for the night and packed up again in the morning. The weather was miserably cold that morning and we waited about for hours and felt frozen. We were still waiting at 2.30 when the hot meal arrived and this was indeed welcome. I shall always remember how I enjoyed that meal and I certainly felt much warmer. Soon after this, we moved to the new camp which I estimated was about ¾ mile away. This was Wed 21-10-42.
On arrival, we found the camp to be just off the main road. There was a gravel road running down the centre with square pens on either side each holding 1,000 prisoners.
On entering the first pen we were searched for pick-heads, crowbars etc. At the camp we had just left, some chaps had tried to tunnel their way out and I suppose the Italians were afraid of a repetition. On reaching our allotted pen, we pitched our tents and settled down. The ground was soft and covered with dead thistles which proved painful when walking around in bare feet.
On the first two days at the new camp we had no hot meals but these continued daily after this. Conditions were much the same as at the previous camp. I made my shorts into long slacks by stitching pieces of tent flaps to them.. This kept my legs warm as the weather was sometimes rather cold, especially in the evenings. My shirt was a sorry sight: the back was completely gone and the remaining cloth was thoroughly rotten. Everyone was running around in much the same state as myself as we had no material for mending our clothes.
Jack was eating more at this time and feeling much better. My foot did not heal up and was really a big nuisance to me. I continued to bathe the sore as soon as it festered up and that’s about all I could do as the M.O. still had no dressings.
The pen we were in did not contain a thousand men. We were the number left over after the other pens had been made up to a thousand each. Any fresh prisoners arriving at Benghazi came into our pen. One day a rumour went round to the effect that the push had started from El Alamein on Mon 26-10-42. A day or two later, new prisoners came into our pen who had taken part in the initial attack. This good news raised our hopes tremendously and we had visions of a possible release by our own troops.
Our hopes were soon shattered however, as the Italians recommenced moving prisoners away. Half of one pen was taken on Sat 31-10-42 and we were immediately transferred to that pen. Our stay in that pen was very short as we received orders to prepare to move on the following day.
Jack and I dumped many odds and ends and, in the morning, packed up what little kit we had. On Sun 1-11-42 we left Benghazi after being there nearly four months. I believe our troops arrived at Benghazi about fourteen days after we left. I do not think there could have been many released by our troops as there were about 3,000 left there when we moved out and the Italians were getting them away fairly quickly."
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http://365project.org/quietpurplehaze/365/2016-10-26
Interesting chapter of you Dads dairy .
Your father's diary is so interesting.
I do have a word processed bound version with illustrations, but the energy to do more escapes me. But thank you for the suggestion and well done for your mother's diaries.
Another great instalment of your Dad's diaries too by the way.