‘But nobody did escape, did they? From California.’
Dr Mann led the way into the hut. ‘That’s right. But more than four hundred Axis prisoners did get out of the camps around Britain and more than eighty were never accounted for. So escapes happened. Finding the tunnel is exciting – I’d like to get a short section moved here.’
Inside Hut 14 a dozen beds were lined on either side of a central aisle at the end of which stood a single pot-bellied stove, its flue rising through the roof. Beside each bed was a box side-table made from packing-case planks, and each pair of beds shared a roughly made wardrobe. On each table was an array of memorabilia: cut-throat razors, pictures, a lighter made from gunmetal, a gold chain with a locket, and some books – mostly bound in brown paper to stiffen the paperback covers.
Dryden picked up one of the books and smelt it: a wave of remembrance of stories past coming with the familiar odour of ageing paper.
He opened it. No linguist himself, he could still tell the difference between Italian and German.
‘Why Italian?’ He picked up one of the snapshots which showed a young man, proudly holding what looked like a new bicycle, on a crowded city pavement with the dome of the Vatican caught on the horizon.
‘They occupied the huts for three years – from 1941 to 1944. The Germans were there for only a year.’
‘But surely the Italians took their things with them when they moved out to the farms?’
‘No. No they didn’t. Well… It’s complicated.’
Dryden bristled, acutely aware when he was about to be patronized.
‘The authorities here on the Isle of Ely were concerned that there would be trouble if they told the prisoners they were being put permanently out to work. They were good workers in the fields, but they wanted to come back together at night. They were together at California, and there was a strong community spirit, I think – you only have to talk to those who stayed behind.
‘The train carrying the Germans turned up early – typical War Office cock-up. So the authorities decided to solve both problems in one move – they brought the Germans straight in and billeted the Italians straight out on the farms. They collected most things of value and the prisoners got it all – and new shaving kits, and other things, to sweeten the move. But a lot of stuff just stuck on the walls was left behind. It was a botched job, really – typical of war, I’m afraid, although most of the PoWs carried anything really valuable with them.’
Dryden tried to recall Mann’s academic field: history certainly, modern European perhaps.
‘So all this stuff was stored in the camp?’
‘Yes. The Germans collected the items here and stored them carefully for their eventual return. When they left they took all their personal effects. They were very neat.’
‘Did the two communities ever mix?’
‘No. There’s no record of that at all, although some of the Italians were drafted in to do menial work at the camp. As you can imagine, the Germans despised them for surrendering and for being, in their eyes, third-rate soldiers. The Germans were seen as ideologues, Nazis, and war criminals – a crude caricature but a view widely held.’
‘The tunnel – at the PoW camp. Do you think they dug it – the Germans? Or was it there when they were moved into the camp?’
Mann shrugged. ‘It would help to see it, I think – but so far, the site is still closed.’
‘They sent you the ID disc they found – the police?’
‘Yes.’ He took a folded pouch from his pocket, placed it on the palm of his hand and unfolded it to reveal the disc. ‘Very badly corroded I’m sad to say. Unreadable. But we have others here…’
He opened a cabinet and extracted an ID disc. It had been crudely engraved with a punch mark: FIELD WORKER 478.
‘Field worker?’
‘Yes. When they let the Italians out on the land they gave them these.’
‘Can you trace the number to a name?’
Dr Mann shook his head, replacing the disc with care in the museum cabinet.
‘Do you know Professor Valgimigli?’ asked Dryden.
‘Certainly. I taught him, Mr Dryden – at Cambridge. A fine student. He was here only last week, touring our modest museum. Which is, I think…’
‘Yes. Of course. The body found in the tunnel – well, the bones. It’s been suggested we might put some items in the coffin – something which might be appropriate although we can’t be sure…’
‘Indeed. Your message made it clear so I took the liberty…’ On a deal table he had arranged items taken from the museum stores. Two medals – one Italian, one German, some ammunition, some furled flags and pennants, a tobacco tin, some playing dice, and an assortment of military buttons and buckles.