Escaping from Italy’s Devil’s Island

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 840, 7 December 1929, Page 22

Escaping from Italy’s Devil’s Island

Nephew of Former Premier Makes 300Mile Dash for Liberty from Island Prison for Political Offenders . . . Signor Nitti Writes of Thrilling Night Adventure

1 'ranccsco Xitti, nephew of the former Prnnicr of Italy, toyether with Professor Carlo flosselli, a distinguished savant, and Emilio Pussn, twice a member of the Italian Parliament, escaped from the Island of Lipari, where they were scrvmy five-year sentences for alleycd activities ayaiiist the Fascist reyime. Xitti here describes Ills life at this Italian detention “camp" and the thrillinrj details of the sensational escape of Ins two friends and himself. ■ N December, 1926, a youth named Zamboai tried to kill Signor Mussolini at Bologna. The police on the spot used their revolvers and killed Zamboni. It was afterward discovered that he was a fanatical Fascist. Shortly after that incident Signor Mussolini had a Bill passed in special legislation under which any person who is regarded as suspicious, from the Government’s point of view, can be deported without inquiry. I was one of the first victims of this arbitrary system (writes Signor Nitti in the San Francisco "Chronicle”). The fact that I bore the name of Nitti and was a nephew of the late Prime Minister was quite enough to cause the authorities to turn their attention to me, although I was earning my living as an ordinary bank clerk in Rome and had never taken any part in politics. My rooms were searched several times, and eventually f was arrested on suspicion and imprisoned for six months. My father went to see Commenatore Belloni, head of the Rome police, to ask him why I was under arrest. He replied : “Your son is a dangerous conspirator.” “Have you any evidence against him?” my father inquired. “No,” was the reply, "but it is quite clear. He lives a very quiet life,' he associates with suspicious people, he is unmarried and he has not even a lady friend, so he must be a revolutionary.” I was eventually transferred to the Island of Lipari, off the coast of Sicily. Lipari is one of three islands on which deported prisoners are kept, the others being Ponza and Ustica. There were 500 prisoners in Lipari, .150 in Ponza and only twenty in tJstica. in addition to five or six hundred common-law offenders, including murderers and members of the secret society known as the Maffia. Life in this place was hard. We each had a daily allowance of ten lire, which was hardly enough for one meal, as the inhabitants of this small island take advantage of the position to put up prices at the expense of the unfortunate prisoners. Those who were not kept supplied with money by their relatives had to go without food. The deportees are kept under very close watch. They are allowed to walk only in certain streets and at certain hours, the area within bounds being only about a few miles square. Water is very scarce and there is no such thing as a bath for any one, except in the sea during the summer months. Most of the deportees live in the castle, but those who can afford it can hire rooms in private houses. The castle inmates are, of course, locked in at night. The others have to be indoors before 9 p.m. and answer to their names when the guard makes its rounds. The only distraction is reading. All

books have to be passed by the censor before the prisoners are allowed to read them. Some months after we had been allowed to start a library, a search was made and many of the books were confiscated. Among them were works by Dostoievsky, Turgenieff, Blasco Ibanez and Tolstoi, and Carlyle’s “French Revolution.” At the beginning of summer we resolved to make an attempt to escape with the assistance of friends, with whom we succeeded in communicating despite the strict watch kept over us. The date was fixed for July 26. 27 or 28, the exact day to be determined by circumstances. Our party consisted of three: Prof. Carlo Rosselli, who was arrested just as I was. aud Signor Emilie Lussu, formerly a member of Parliament. Rosselli had married an Englishwoman, Miss Marion Cave, who was herself arrested by the Italian authorities after her husband helped Signor Turati to escape from the country.

On the first of the three days our luck was out. It was arranged that we should station ourselves at one spot on the coast, which seemed to us likely to be not too closely watched by the patrols. Our rescuers were to

come as close as they could to this spot in a motor-boat —dangerous work in a rough sea, the coast being very rocky and treacherous. As deportees were forbidden to go on the beach without special permission, Lussu disguised himself for the occasion as a fisherman and Rosselli as a peasant. I was the only one without a disguise. Lussu had a pipe in his mouth and a big coloured handkerchief around his neck, so as to conceal his beard. We reached the appointed spot about 8 p.m., knowing that an hour later the patrol would be at our house and that we should have to be there to answer "present” unless we succeeded in our attempt to escape.

A few lights were visible on the island, but the spot we had selected was sufficiently dark for our purpose. We undressed, leaving our clothes, on the beach, and swam to the little headland where we expected the motor-boat to pick us up. We saw no sign of our rescuers. We began to count the minutes. Five, ten. fifteen. Still help did not come. It was nearly quarter to nine. In 15 minutes the patrol would be at our house, we should be missed and the search for us would begin. We could run no further risk. All hope, for that night at any rate, must be abandoned.

Bitterly disappointed, we swam back to the shore, dressed hurriedly, hardly trusting ourselves to speak, and reached home undiscovered. We were fully resolved to try our luck again the next night, as we never doubted that our friends would come for us.

The following day seemed endless, but at last evening came and we started out again. At first we were less lucky than on the previous attempt. Both Lussu and Rosselli, who were seperated, encountered a Fascist patrol. Lussu sat down on a doorstep and smoked quietly, while the soldiers passed by with a jest. Rosselli retreated into the shadow of a door and escaped observation. I had gone on in front, so their failure to join me made me extremely anxious, as 1 did not know the cause of the delay. After waiting some time, and fearing that I should attract attention if I were seen strolling about on the beach, I decided to go on without them. They might have been ahead of me, I thought. Accordingly I stripped and plunged into the sea, which was rather rough. I had been swimming only a few minutes when I saw a dark object close to me. It was the motor-boat.

I was hauled on board, amid anxious inquiries for Lussu and Rosselli. “I do not know where they are,” I said, “but they were here yesterday.” My. friends, with many apologies, explained that on the previous evening they lost their bearings and were unable to locate the spot at which they were to pick us up. We, waited, but as we were near the shore, the noise of the engine was sure to attract attention soonfer or later. We stopped the engine, but as soon as we did so the tide began to carry us in toward shore. We discovered to our horror that we were barely a hundred yards from the commandant and several other officers, who were taking their coffee on a terrace.

“Why not go and have coffee with them?” suggested one of our party, with grim humour. The situation was extremely critical. If we continued to drift we were certain to run aground and attract attention and my absence and that of my two companions was sure to be discovered soon. We tried the oars, but they did not help us against the tide. We decided to risk everything. Our engine was started again, and in a few minutes we were back at the appointed meeting-place. We spotted two dark forms in the water. They were our friends. They had stood up to their necks in water, not knowing what had become of me or of the boat, but fearing that in another few minutes they would be obliged to swim back to captivity again. No words can describe their joy, or ours, when we hauled them aboard. '

We looked anxiously at the shore, where everything appeared to be quiet. . . fishing-boat sailed past, taking no notice of us. The crew, no doubt, mistook our craft for one of the police patrol boats, which ours resembled in shape, though they must have wondered why we showed no lights. Possibly they took us for smugglers. In any case they let us alone, and we were also fortunate enough not to come across any of the three policeboats, armed with machine-guns, which ■were stationed on the coast, or the torpedo-boat, which might have shelled us.

Farther on we ran the risk of encountering destroyers and other craft from Messina and Palermo. When daylight -came, we sighted a vessel which we believed to be an Italian battleship. We promptly changed our course and made off at full speed, racing for our lives. After a journey of 30 hours we reached a domain of safety, and landed with more pleasure than I can describe.