“It seems half the town was involved in helping the escapees. Some forged documents for them: the town clerk supplied official blank forms, another provided the necessary rubber stamps and a photographer took the document photos.”

By Victor Failmezger

THOUSANDS OF escaped Allied POWs in Italy received life-saving assistance and support from the local population between 1943 and 1945.

These Italians gave freely of their often-meagre resources, putting themselves in considerable danger, including the risk of death. In and around the small Abruzzi town of Sulmona, there were as many as 100 ex-POWs to hide, feed and clothe. Most had escaped from a POW camp a few kilometres to the north of the town.

One of the escapees was British lieutenant, John Furman. His story illustrates the vital help many Allied prisoners received from locals.

Furman, a mustached junior officer, had been captured in North Africa. He was one of more than 70,000 Allied prisoners scattered in camps all across Italy. Because he had studied in pre-war Germany, he spoke the language well.

Furman arrived at the Sulmona camp on Sept. 23, 1943. When he was trucked into the camp he saw German guards washing at a spring and water trough about 150 yards away from the main gate. Making a cursory inspection of the camp, Furman noted that there was little water for bathing and requested permission for the prisoners to wash at the same trough. Remarkably the Germans allowed it. Soon small groups, under close guard, were using the spring.

Several days later Furman saw a working party leave camp to fetch water. On the spur of the moment, he ran after them, assuring the German guard that he was part of the departing detail. Once out of camp, he took advantage of a bend in the road and slipped through a gate in a hedge. He hid in the brush during that cold night. Dressed only in shorts and a light shirt, Furman was thoroughly unprepared, but he had to take the chance.

The next day he moved toward the town while practicing his Italian.

“I am an English officer, prisoner of war, escaped from prison camp,” he repeated to himself in the language of the locals. Furman eventually tried out the line on two 14-year old boys whom he encountered.

They took him home and offered him shelter. While in hiding, he learned that there were POWs recovering under guard in a hospital in Sulmona. Furman thought that these prisoners should be given the opportunity to escape too. Convinced to help, a doctor and several women of the town smuggled in civilian clothes. One night, nine POWs climbed down a rope of bed sheets and were taken in by the townspeople. The escape infuriated the Germans, but they lacked the manpower for a thorough search of the town.

The ex-POWs were free but by no means safe.

Trying to blend in, Furman and some others attended a party. After an evening of much wine, the revelers went home, but shortly later they heard a commotion down the street and shouts in German of “Come out!” The soldiers were rounding locals to work as forced labour. At first light, Furman was recaptured and he and others were taken to an enclosed compound.

Eventually they were moved to a work camp 20 miles south of Sulmona, close to the front lines. A German sergeant addressed them and warned the men not to escape. He threatened that for every man who escaped, 10 would be shot.

Sanitation in the camp was virtually non-existent; the stench from latrines filled the air. That night, the men were herded into huts where they slept on straw and without blankets. A stove in the centre of the room provided insufficient heat. More prisoner labourers arrived throughout the evening.

Early the next morning, each man got a piece of bread, some margarine and a spoonful of jam. They were formed into working parties and issued picks and shovels. The work site was three kilometres away and there the men had to cut away a hill to form an anti-tank barrier. No one believed that the Germans would shoot 10 men for each escapee; as labourers, they were too valuable.

Not all the guards were Nazi zealots. Two young Austrian soldiers told Furman they were draftees and wanted to return home. They agreed to help the British officer and three others when they were on nighttime duty.

Free once more, Furman headed for the mountains but after some rough days he stumbled back into Sulmona.

It seems half the town was involved in helping the escapees. Some forged documents for them: the town clerk supplied official blank forms, another provided the necessary rubber stamps and a photographer took the document photos.

As winter approached, more escaped POWs were brought into the town. BBC broadcasts were urging them to head for the neutral Vatican City. The fugitives wrote the Vatican for advice. These letters were taken to Rome and passed to the Vatican’s interned Allied diplomats. The Vatican reply said “don’t come to Rome.” Enclosed in the envelopes was money to be shared among the escaped prisoners. The church also asked for the names, ranks, units and next-of-kin of other escapees.

Noting that many of the men lacked adequate winter clothes and blankets, Furman met with a wealthy Sulmona merchant who owned a large supply of Italian uniform items and blankets. Furman obtained the clothing from his contact. Armed with a list of escapees, a woman from town traveled to Rome and returned with a large supply of pullovers, shirts and more cash.

Again, testing their luck, the ex-POWs attended a boisterous, wine-soaked birthday party. Amid the celebrations, a loud banging could be heard coming from down the street. Next, harsh, guttural commands in German rang out. It was the local SS detachment conducting a house-to-house search. The Allied escapees scrambled into the attic and hid. The Germans searched the other houses in the street but found no one. Amazingly, the Gestapo had overlooked the one house where the escaped POWs were hiding.

Just before dawn the fugitives went to hide in a nearby church bell tower where they agreed to make for Rome. At the railway station, they discovered a train was due to leave for the city that evening. Climbing aboard, the party was shocked to see a horde of German troops going to Rome on leave. The conductor explained that upon arrival in Rome, the police would examine each passenger’s documents closely and that the German city commander had declared that any person entering Rome must have advanced written permission.

The train lurched and stopped so often that the trip of 120 miles lasted all night. At first light, three stops outside the city, the train screeched to a halt. Furman and his group waved goodbye to the other passengers and leapt from the carriage. They had decided it was safer to enter the city via tram. Eventually they arrived in the city center and found a hotel. They were safe for now, but they could not relax and immediately contacted Vatican representatives.

These escaped POWs who had been hiding in Sulmona were to become the leaders of the Rome Escape Line, which sheltered and saved more than 4,000 Allied soldiers from interment in Germany.

They had countless brave Italians to thank for their success.

Victor Failmezger is the author of Rome – City in Terror: The Nazi Occupation 1943–44 published by Osprey. This article was adapted from the book.