Category Archives: Prisoners—Camp 59

An Article on Luther Shields’ Escape

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The following article by Graham Kislingbury, entitled “Escape from Nazis in Italy Close Call for D-1 Soldier,” appeared in the Thursday, April 26, 1945 edition of The Bealiner. The Bealiner is the newspaper of the Beal Air Force Base in Yuba County, California.

Capture in North Africa, escape from Italy, and a game of hide-and-seek from the enemy in the high mountains of northern Italy is but a small portion of the adventure story told by Pfc. Luther C. Shields, 25, of D-1, PRD.

I was with the 16th Combat Engineers, attached to the First Armored Division in North Africa, when captured in Dec. 10, 1942,” said Shields. “My platoon was building a road block about 18 miles west of Tunesia to delay the enemy counter attack, when a whole German Panzer Division moved in on us, with their tanks sweeping right by. The few of us that lived were surrounded by German Infantry and had to give up.”

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Luther Shield’s Story

Prior to being drafted, I attended Garrett Ridge High School in the Cortez area of Colorado during my freshman and sophomore years. My mom and dad had no money to pay tuition for me to finish high school, so I went to Kuna, Idaho where I lived with my granddad and grandma Walker. I milked cows in Boise, Idaho. My granddad had an old radio in the barn that he played when milking cows. He swore the cows gave more milk when the radio was playing.

I was drafted in fall of 1941 to serve one year. Beginning in September 1941, I spent 13 weeks in basic training at Fort Knox in Kentucky, and I also trained at Fort Bliss in Texas.

Then Pearl Harbor was attacked in December 7, 1941 and World War II broke out.

World War II was everywhere. Yugoslavia and Greece had fallen to Nazi troops, Russia was being heavily attacked by powerful German artillery, American forces had whipped a Japanese fleet in the Coral Sea, and Mussolini was fighting for control over Italy in an alignment with Hitler. By November of 1942, most of the Allies’ concentration was on the European theater. Rommel masterminded a series of surprise advances in North Africa. On November 8th, our 16th Combat Engineers were attached to the First Armored Division of the U.S. Second Corps.

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“Servigliano Calling” Camp Poem #9

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“To Mother and Dad” is one of three poems by Denis Crooks recorded in Robert Dickinson’s diary, “Servigliano Calling.”

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To Mother and Dad

All my thoughts are for you, dear Mother and Dad,
And I dream of you both day and night;
Our our little white home
And the old sitting room,
And the things that are now gone from sight.

Of a night spent at home by the old fireside
With the wireless, a book and you two,
Of all the good things
And all the kind love
That you’ve always given me too.

And I pray every night to the good God above
To comfort you, not make you sad;
That one day quite soon
He’ll send me back home
To old England, my Mother and Dad.

A Timeline of Armie Hill’s Service

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The above mimeographed certificate indicates that Armie Hill was deloused on March 29, 1943. At the time Armie was being held in Le Bardo, a Tunisian city west of Tunis in North Africa. He had been at the camp since March 3, and on the day after the delousing, March 30, he was flown to Camp 98 on Sicily.

Translated from German, the certificate reads:

“Prisoner-of-War Camp Le Bardo
The prisoner-of-war Sgt. Hill
was on 29.3.43 deloused
[signature] Camp Commander [signature] Camp Doctor”

Timeline

Here is a timeline of Armie Hill’s service in the United States Army, from induction to discharge:

1941

January 20—accepted for active military service at Induction Center, Milwaukee, and sent to Reception Center, Fort Sheridan, Illinois

January 23—assigned to 19th Engineer Corps, Fort Ord, California

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Men of Hut 4–Section 11

As I mentioned in earlier posts, my father, Armie Hill, was put in charge of a section of 35 men (Hut 4–Section 11) in Camp 59. The first page of his camp notebook contains a roll of the men.

Armie listed them according to B. No. (perhaps an abbreviation for bunk or bed number), Rate (rank), Surname–First Name–Middle Initial, and Serial Number.

Interestingly, I noticed that three of the men (Edgar J. Curttright, Allen A. Coombs, and Claude J. Cole) had consecutive serial numbers. On investigation, I learned that the three were inducted at Cedar Rapids, Iowa on the same day—February 10, 1941—into the Army National Guard Infantry. I assume they knew each other, served in the same unit in North Africa, and were captured together.

All 35 men are listed in the U.S. National Archives WW II POW records. Armie’s address book contains addresses for a number of them. In future individual posts I will document all I know about each of these men.

B. No. 361—Sergeant Armie S. Hill—Serial No. 36200720
B. No. 362—Sergeant Kenneth E. Gaddy—Serial No. 20701847
B. No. 363—Corporal Michael M. Sterm—Serial No. 2703555
B. No. 364—Private Morris Scianna—Serial No. 33147188
B. No. 364—Private Rochester F. Nettles—Serial No. 34059817
B. No. 366—Private Joe Maly—Serial No. 16000460
B. No. 367—Corporal William S. Kornrumph—Serial No. 12020628
B. No. 368—Private First Class William W. Hurley—Serial No. 38064103
B. No. 369—Private First Class Gilbert D. Loonam—Serial No. 32019660
B. No. 370—Corporal Warron A. Colver—Serial No. 20705564
B. No. 371—Private First Class Lawrence F. Hunt—Serial No. 14038487
B. No. 372—Private First Class James Guillary—Serial No. 6959286
B. No. 373—Private First Class Earl C. Linaweaver—Serial No. 13023638
B. No. 374—Corporal Edgar J. Curttright—Serial No. 20701885
B. No. 375—Corporal Les J. Cratty—Serial No. 10600080
B. No. 376—Corporal Robert D. Chandler—Serial No. 15059956
B. No. 377—Private First Class Ray W. Dentler—Serial No. 37073082
B. No. 378—Private First Class Allen A. Coombs—Serial No. 20701884
B. No. 379—Private First Class James Collins—Serial No. 13022149
B. No. 380—Private First Class Claude J. Cole—Serial No. 20701883
B. No. 381—Private First Class Willis Largent—Serial No. 13023021
B. No. 382—Private First Class Alvie D. Cochran—Serial No. 15055130
B. No. 383—Private First Class Fredric G. Busky [Frederick G. Buske]—
Serial No.37038102
B. No. 384—Private John E. Buchanan—Serial No. 20701816
B. No. 385—Private First Class Stanley Bentley—Serial No. 15055095
B. No. 386—Private First Class Harold S. Arneson—Serial No. 39602619
B. No. 387—Private First Class Dillard W. Anderson—Serial No. 33090088
B. No. 388—Private First Class Arnold L. Anderson—Serial No. 20714955
B. No. 389—Private First Class Harold Adkins—Serial No. 33090536
B. No. 390—Private Anthony P. Fiore—Serial No. 32003230
B. No. 391—Private Ray Felcle [Felchle]—Serial No. 37025587
B. No. 392—Private Benjamin F. Farley—Serial No. 15054958
B. No. 393—Private Chris J. Facchina—Serial No. 33189164
B. No. 394—Private First Class John O. Everett—Serial No. 34138090
B. No. 395—Private August C. Erdbrink—Serial No. 33067286
B. No. 396—Private Billy V. England—Serial No. 6956161

“Servigliano Calling” Camp Poem #8


This poem is one of eight by Cpl. D. Nevitt recorded in Robert Dickinson’s diary, “Servigliano Calling.”

The Fireside Fusiliers

LISTEN!, while I tell you a story,
Of interest to you and to me,
Of a bunch of spineless cowards,
Away across the sea,
They fear the tanks and guns of war,
They shed no blood or tears,
They’re Conscientious Objectors,
The Fireside Fusiliers.

While there’s women in the navy,
In the army and air-force too,
These men are only found in jobs,
Where there’s no fighting to do
There ranks have been growing daily,
And now, just after two years,
You’ll find there’s fifty-thousand or so,
Of these Fireside Fusiliers.

I believe they’ve a special medal,
It’s one they can call their own,
Painted a bright gleaming yellow,
Designed by the women at home,
Its centre’s a crest of white feathers,
Surrounded by cold feet, it appears,
And their motto “Self-preservation,”
That’s the Fireside Fusiliers.

While their country has need of all men,
On “religious grounds”, keep from the fray,
And despite the serious position,
Enjoy home-comfort each day,
When Jerry has been defeated,
They’ll flourish their souvenirs,
Then tell you how they won them,
These Fireside Fusiliers.

Daily our seamen risk their lives,
To bring their rations through,
For remember there’s fifty-thousand,
Not just one or two,
But when this war is over,
You can regard these men with sneers,
For you’ve done your bit, and theirs, my boys,
The Fireside Fusiliers

“Servigliano Calling” Camp Poem #7


This touching poem by Cpl. D. Nevitt reflects on the bravery and sacrifice of the women of Blighty (England) through the story of one widow’s loving protection of her baby. The poem is from Robert Dickinson’s diary, “Servigliano Calling.”

Tribute to the Women of Blighty

The cottage was a thatched one,
The inside clean and neat,
As a mother sat there rocking,
The cradle at her feet.

Outside the night had fallen
And all was peace and quit,
When suddenly the sirens,
Came wailing through the night.

People ran for shelter,
Children screamed with fear,
For one and all knew what it meant,
As the planes came roaring near.

The guns barked out their warning,
And search-lights cut the sky,
But they only served one purpose,
To keep the bombers high.

Then suddenly above the roar,
Of the noisy ack-ack guns,
There came the whistling of the bombs,
Dropped by the callous Huns.

In the cottage all was peaceful,
And at the bottom of the stairs,
Knelt that mother with her baby,
As she softly said her prayers.

And as she looked towards the heavens,
Her eyes shone full of faith,
As she softly murmured, “God above,
Please keep my baby safe.

He’s already lost his daddy,
For he gave his life in France,
So if I should get killed this night,
Please give my child a chance.”

And though her cheeks were wet with tears,
Her voice was full of pride,
As she whispered may God Bless you,
And the bombs still fell outside.

And though that cottage stood,
Outside the town, alone,
A bomb crashed through the centre,
Of that peaceful little home.

Then when the raid was over,
And the bombers had passed by,
They searched that ruined cottage,
And they heard a baby’s cry.

They found her ’neath the ruins,
That poor young soldiers wife,
For her dead and battered body,
Had saved her baby’s life.

So when you go in action,
And you feel somewhat afraid,
Just think of what the women stand,
In any big air-raid.

“Servigliano Calling” Camp Poem #6


This clever poem, an ode to the Camp 59 dog, is one of six by C.A. Hollis recorded in Robert Dickinson’s diary, “Servigliano Calling.”

The Neutral

He’s not of any army, he has no need to kill,
His is the freedom of the prison, he comes and goes at will,
No cheering at advances, no worries of retreats;
It matters not, if he’s a coward, or performs heroic feats.

He’s the friend of captor and captive, of both he has no fear,
He just walks disdainfully, if either clip his ear.
No rations is he issued, his meals are bits and scraps,
And when he’s feeling tired, most anywhere, he knaps.

And when this war is over, his life will be the same,
He cares not who’s the victor, or who deserves the blame.
He’s a neutral in this conflict—this world engulfing bog,
He’s one of man’s greatest friends, just a homely dog.

This poem was inspired by Old Bob the camp dog.

The Christmas Ship

This Christmas postcard, sent from Camp 59 by Robert Dickinson to his parents and young brother Len, reads:

Nov. 2nd.

“To Mum, Dad, and Len.
Laden with Good Wishes

“This sailing ship is carrying
A load of Xmas cheer
And luck and happiness enough
To last another year

“Greetings and Best Wishes
From—Bob.xx.

“Xmas 1942”

Robert’s ocean scene is full of happy detail. Wind fills the sails of the ship, named Len, and sends it on it’s merry way toward “Blighty” (a nickname for Britain). A gull carries a sign that reads “Good Luck” as it sails on a breeze overhead. One sailer, playing an accordion, balances on the bowsprit. Another, with broad-brimmed hat, lands a fish at the back of the ship.

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Combat and Capture—Armie’s 1976 Story

This account is from the first of two interviews with Armie regarding his experience during World War II. Armie’s son Dennis Hill taped this conversation on February 21, 1976 in Phelps, Wisconsin.

Dennis edited the transcript; Armie also made a few additions and corrections to the story.

This portrait of Armie was created by an artist in North Africa.

En Route to Invasion

“On August 31, 1942 the troops in my company left the States. Our first stop was Antrim County, Ireland. We were in Ireland for a few weeks. Then they sent us to England—to Liverpool. In England we had an idea that we would be sent someplace, but we didn’t know where we would be sent. We had been given extra training. We had spent time getting all our equipment ready. Everything had to be covered with oil and grease so that it would be waterproof, and then we covered it with canvas.

“One day we were told to be ready to load on the ships. They took us in barges out to the ships. And the ship that I was loaded on—I was a sergeant and a squad-leader at the time—wasn’t a passenger ship but an old, Russian ship that had been used to carry freight. It really wasn’t sea-worthy. All around ships were being loaded. It took us several days to load and assemble the convoy. Finally, we set off from Liverpool.

“We were given orders to stay below deck. When we were allowed on deck, we weren’t supposed to throw anything in the water that would give a clue as to the trail of the ships. When we did throw anything overboard—garbage or anything—it was always at night.

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