My father, Silvio Fiorita, had fought in North Africa with the regular Italian army. He was with the Alpine regiment and was a sergeant major and served with the artillery unit.
He and his unit held out in the Egyptian desert for four months before finally surrendering to a South African unit. They had suffered terribly from starvation, sandstorms and my father had to bury 250 men who served with him.
They were taken to a POW camp (Zonderwater) in South Africa outside of Pietermaritzburg near Cullinan. They were there for six months when a lottery was held. My father being an officer had better odds. Their captors told them they would be transferred to another camp but did not reveal the location. My father wanted to leave as he found the camp very dreary. He thought anything would be an improvement. His name came up and he along with others were put on a ship and they sailed. They finally disembarked in Liverpool.
My father was glad to be in England. It was 1943 and he was 30 years old, married to my mother for 4 years and the father of a 3-year-old daughter he had yet to see. They had been married only a few months when my father was sent to the front and my mother was expecting their first child. The prisoners were herded onto a train which eventually made its way through the English countryside to Scunthorpe in North Lincolnshire. The POW camp was located a few miles outside the town of Brigg and was known as Pingley Farms. The prisoners were treated kindly. Mussolini had been assassinated by then and Italians had allied themselves with the other side.
The men were given day passes and worked in a steel foundry known as Frodigan steel. My father, as an officer, did not have to labour. His job was to supervise the men under him. It was at this foundry that my father met Mr Joseph Ben Fox who was the company's foreman. Mr Fox assured my father that this was not a war between them and he bore no ill-will towards the Italian POWs. In fact, a wonderful, longstanding friendship was struck as the Fox family invited my father to their home for Sunday dinners, and to share Christmas and family celebrations. My father learned to speak a fair amount of English with their help and with the use of an English-Italian dictionary purchased for him by Doreen Fox, the only child of the family. She was engaged to an RAF officer and later married and had two children, David and Stephen Westaby. My father reciprocated their warm hospitality by providing the family sugar and tea that were rationed during the war but which the prisoners were provided with. In fact, my father told me he would sneak out his rations of tea and sugar so no one would know he was giving them away to an English family. He rode his bike to Scunthorpe every Sunday to spend the day with them.
When my father was finally repatriated to Italy, he was given a British army uniform to wear back home. He and the Foxes corresponded until the early 1960s when Mr Fox died. Unfortunately, we do not have their letters. We do have an old photo of Stephen and David as young boys. Before my father's death at 100 in 2013, I was very fortunate, with the help of a good friend, to locate Doreen Fox (now Westaby). We found Stephen's address and I wrote to him explaining who I was and how I came across his family. His wife Sarah responded to my letter and we began to email each other. Unfortunately, Doreen had now passed away with dementia, so would not have been able to recall my father. On a trip to England Sarah and I arranged to meet in Oxford not far from where they are living. I was very happy to have shown a photo of Doreen and her son Stephen to my Dad before he died. "She was such a smart girl", he told me, "She worked in a bank".
My father always maintained a soft spot for the English. They had helped make a young man far from his home and family feel a little better. My father eventually moved to Canada in 1951, followed by the rest of the family in 1955. I was born in Canada one year later. Perhaps it is because of this positive experience in England that I, too, feel at home with English people and have a few close friendships with people from England. Thanks again to the Foxs for their kindness and hospitality shown my father.
