It is now the end of October and one cold morning, a fatigue party were detailed to bring home the long-awaited Red Cross parcels into the camp. This was indeed good news, and the morale of the lads was raised tremendously. Smiles were to be seen again and before the parcels were issued, men were saying how they were going to eat the contents. One was going to eat his in one go, another ration himself to so much per day, another was going to keep his until all had eaten theirs and then they could watch him eat his. Knowing the men at this time, this one would be lucky to see any of his parcel if he kept it after the others had eaten theirs!

At 2pm, the first issue of parcels was made. I had not seen such excitement for a long time. All of us stood in the queue like a lot of excited schoolboys. At the head of the queue stood a wooden table, at which sat two Italian officers, nearby stood a British officer. Each man in his turn walked to the table and saluted, a parcel was then given to him which he opened in front of the issuing officer, all the contents put on the table in front of the Italian, who, with great gusto, plunged a spike into every can of food. The chocolate was broken into little pieces, just in case a map was concealed!

This piercing of tins meant the food had to be eaten quickly anyhow, and was done in order to prevent men hoarding tins of food in order to make an escape, which we were told was a prisoner's first duty. So the pierced tins were put back into the box and carried back to our tents.

What a tuck-in we had! 24 hours of bliss. After so long without decent food - of starvation and malnutrition - this issue of food caused much distress for a few days. The contents were grand, but after an orgy of stewed steak, Spam, apple pudding, raisins, biscuits, butter, chocolate, milk, sugar, tea and cheese, the bliss of this in a few hours turned to great distress, and many could be seen rolling on the straw in agony. Sickness and diarrhoea were the prevailing feature in the camp for the next few days. Many blamed the Red Cross for their predicament, most blamed themselves.

600 of us moved out of the camp in late October. The march to Bari station was so different from our march to the camp a few weeks earlier. The soldiers, many of whom had stoned us earlier, now stood near the barracks, staring at us, not a word of abuse coming from their lips. Perhaps the news was good for us, perhaps the war was at an end, perhaps we should be home for Christmas -perhaps!

Nearer the station, children stood and smiled, some said 'Buono Inglese, la guerre quasi finere'. The war to finish soon! Yes, if that was true, the news was good. Water was offered to us by the children, and the guards did not stop us from taking it from them.

It was obvious to all that something great had taken place, and we climbed on the cattle wagons with light hearts. The wagons had no seats, no straw,and I had no overcoat or blanket to keep me warm tonight. I could only hope that we were not to travel far.

It is noon, and all seems still. The guards sit on the ground near the wagons, munching bread and salami, we sit watching, hoping that perhaps one guard is not hungry today. Before the train moved off, and wagon doors locked, we were surprised to receive a bag of food for our trip. Opening the bag, we found two salami sandwiches.After our parcel eating experience, we had learnt to treat our stomachs with respect, so did not scoff the food all at once, after all, how long was it to last?

At 3pm, the guard's siesta finished and the train moved off. Hour after hour the train thundered on -the wheels rumbling on the track appeared to be saying 'To another camp, to another camp', on, on, on. It is getting stuffy in the wagon, 40 bodies crowded into such a confined space. Anyway, it gives the fleas and lice a chance to change their abode if they want to!