October 18-23, 1943

Tiburtina station

On October 18 in the morning, 1,022 Jews were transported on trucks from the Military College to Tiburtina station. From here they faced a five-day journey, ending up at Auschwtiz-Birkenau camp.

MORE INFORMATIONS

  • IMAGES
  • DOCUMENTS
  • TESTIMONIES
  • VIDEOS
Created with Fabric.js 1.7.22

Tiburtina station

Created with Fabric.js 1.7.22

Amedeo Tagliacozzo

Created with Fabric.js 1.7.22

Verbale dell'interrogatorio

Created with Fabric.js 1.7.22

Verbale dell'interrogatorio

Created with Fabric.js 1.7.22

Verbale dell'interrogatorio

Created with Fabric.js 1.7.22

Verbale dell'interrogatorio

Created with Fabric.js 1.7.22

Verbale dell'interrogatorio

Created with Fabric.js 1.7.22

Almansi in Rigano, p.27

Created with Fabric.js 1.7.22

Video Testimony

Created with Fabric.js 1.7.22

Video Testimony

Created with Fabric.js 1.7.22

Video Testimony

Rome's Tiburtina station in the early 1900s. This is where the train left for Auschwitz-Birkenau on October 18, 1943, carrying the Jews rounded up two days earlier.

Italian State Railways photographic archive

Rome's Tiburtina station in the early 1900s. This is where the train left for Auschwitz-Birkenau on October 18, 1943, carrying the Jews rounded up two days earlier.

Italian State Railways photographic archive

Rome, October 18, 1943, Tibertina station. Amedeo Tagliacozzo (1898-1944), deported with his mother Eleonora and young niece Ada, throws a note from the train, saying: "All three well leaving Rome today. Tell the porter at 174, Via Salaria in Rome. To let them know. Thanks. Amedeo". None of them will return.

Lello Dell'Ariccia private archive

Amedeo Tagliacozzo

Lello Dell’Ariccia personal archive

A note written by Amedeo Tagliacozzo, thrown from the train before it left for Auschwitz. Tagliacozzo tried to give the rest of his family news about himself, his mother and his young niece. None of them will return. “Rome 18-10-43. All three well leaving Rome today. Tell the porter at 174 Via Salaria in Rome. To let them know. Thanks. Amedeo”.

Lello Dell’Ariccia personal archive

A note written by Amedeo Tagliacozzo, thrown from the train before it left for Auschwitz. Tagliacozzo tried to give the rest of his family news about himself, his mother and his young niece. None of them will return. “Rome 18-10-43. All three well leaving Rome today. Tell the porter at 174 Via Salaria in Rome. To let them know. Thanks. Amedeo”.

Lello Dell’Ariccia personal archive

On October 18, 1943, Rome Police headquarters (Questura) informed the Ministry of the Interior about the departure of a train from Tiburtina station containing around one thousand men, women and children. The record noted "No incident occurred".

Italy’s Central State Archives

On October 18, 1943, Rome Police headquarters (Questura) informed the Ministry of the Interior about the departure of a train from Tiburtina station containing around one thousand men, women and children. The record noted "No incident occurred".

Italy’s Central State Archives

A telegram, intercepted by the Allies, sent by Theodor Dannecker to the Jewish Affairs Department at the Reich Main Security Office in Berlin (RSHA, IV B4): "At the moment a single goods train left Rome on 18.10.43 at 19.00. Transporting 1,007 Jews. The train is accompanied by 20 men (plus one head of transport). The transport is the responsibility of SS. Oberschaführer Arndze [?] […]".

The National Archives, Kew, London

A telegram, intercepted by the Allies, sent by Theodor Dannecker to the Jewish Affairs Department at the Reich Main Security Office in Berlin (RSHA, IV B4): "At the moment a single goods train left Rome on 18.10.43 at 19.00. Transporting 1,007 Jews. The train is accompanied by 20 men (plus one head of transport). The transport is the responsibility of SS. Oberschaführer Arndze [?] […]".

The National Archives, Kew, London

A note thrown from the train leaving Tiburtina station written by Lionello Alatri, Vice President of the Italian Union of Jewish Communities. Alatri tried to send information to his loved ones and to the relatives of other people in his wagon. He also wrote that he was seriously worried about the health of his father-in-law, Eugenio Elia Chimichi. Lionello Alatri came from a very well-known family in the city: his grandfather Samuele Alatri was elected MP in the first parliament of the kingdom of Italy. Lionello himself was the head of an important wholesale textiles factory and was first a member, then commissioner and president of the fascist trade union for textiles. He was also Governor of the Bank of Italy, a financial adviser for the Banks of Naples, Sicily and Novara, and was adviser to the labour court. This note was his last contact with his family. He was killed on arrival at Auschwitz.

Marcello and Sandra Alatri personal archive

A note thrown from the train leaving Tiburtina station written by Lionello Alatri, Vice President of the Italian Union of Jewish Communities. Alatri tried to send information to his loved ones and to the relatives of other people in his wagon. He also wrote that he was seriously worried about the health of his father-in-law, Eugenio Elia Chimichi. Lionello Alatri came from a very well-known family in the city: his grandfather Samuele Alatri was elected MP in the first parliament of the kingdom of Italy. Lionello himself was the head of an important wholesale textiles factory and was first a member, then commissioner and president of the fascist trade union for textiles. He was also Governor of the Bank of Italy, a financial adviser for the Banks of Naples, Sicily and Novara, and was adviser to the labour court. This note was his last contact with his family. He was killed on arrival at Auschwitz.

Marcello and Sandra Alatri personal archive

A note thrown from the train heading to Auschwitz on October 18, 1943. It reads: "Tell them in Rome. Shop in Via Nazionale, that wife and mother are together, the Mieli and Di Cave families. Greetings". Padua resident Gino Giocondi sent the note to Rome.

Centro di Documentazione Ebraica Contemporanea (CDEC) archive, Fondo Vicissitudini dei Singoli, b. 17, fasc. 517, "Eva Sornaga"

Padua, October 18, 1943. A child threw this note from the train heading to Auschwitz. A man from Padua, Gino Giocondi, sent it to Rome.

Foundation Center for Contemporary Jewish Documentation, Milan

Testimony of Settimia Spizzichino, in Settimia Spizzichino, Isa di Nepi Olper, Gli anni rubati. Le memorie di Settimia Spizzichino, reduce dai Lager di Auschwitz e Bergen – Belsen, Comune di Cava de’Tirreni, 1996.

“They made us get off at Tiburtina station. We were pushed onto a train that was waiting on a dead-end track; they loaded us onto cattle wagons. And when we were in, they shut the doors and sealed them […].
The train set off in the evening. We did not know where to. Northwards apparently from what we could see from the station names we managed to catch a glimpse of through the cracks.
There were about 50 or so of us in the wagon, crammed against each other. Someone had made a hole in the floor as a toilet.
An endless journey, locked in, except when the train stopped in the countryside and we were allowed to get out for our more urgent needs; we even managed to drink at times, all under close supervision. There was no food left, after we’d already eaten everything, we’d brought with us.
At Padua, the Red Cross stopped the train, and we were given a bowl of soup. […] I was looking through a crack and saw them laying a body on the ground; the body of a man, the first.
[…] Many others died on that train and their bodies were left there until we arrived.
I felt ill, and it wasn’t just the emotion or the fear; I had a bad stomachache. “Don’t worry”, my mother said, “As soon as we arrive, I’ll take you to a doctor”. A doctor… how could my mother know what a doctor is in a concentration camp? How could she imagine what was waiting for her?
[…] At dawn on the sixth day of the journey, the train stopped. In open countryside: a railway line and that was it, you couldn’t see anything else. Only a faraway building, barbed wire all around, for kilometres. We didn’t know it was electrified at high voltage, but We learnt.”

From G. Debenedetti, 16 ottobre 1943, Torino, Einaudi, 2001.

“Around dawn on the Monday, those arrested were put on trucks and driven to Rome’s Tiburtina station station, where they were loaded onto cattle wagons that were left standing on a dead-end track all morning. Twenty or so armed Germans stopped anyone from approaching the convoy.
At 1.30pm, the train was allocated to driver Quirino Zazza. Very soon, he realised that locked inside the cattle wagons “were numerous civilians of differing sexes and ages, who then turned out to be of the Jewish faith”, as he wrote in a report.
The train set off at 2pm. A young woman travelling from Milan to see relatives in Rome reported that at Fara Sabina (but more likely at Orte) she encountered the “sealed train” from which voices from hell could be heard. Behind the grating of one of the carriages, she seemed to recognise the face of a little girl who was a relative. She tried calling her, but another face appeared at the grating and made a sign to stay silent. This invitation to silence, to not make any further attempts to reinsert them into human society, was the last word, the last sign of life we had of them. Close to Orte, the train came up to a red light and had to stop for about ten minutes. “At the request of the passengers on the trucks”, recalled the train driver, some wagons were unblocked so that “those who needed to carry out bodily functions were able to do so”. Some tried to escape, but they were immediately repressed with a heavy round of gunfire. There was another brief stop at Chiusi to unload the body of an old woman who had died during the journey. At Florence, Mr. Zazza went off duty, without having been able to speak to any of the people he had carried on this first leg of their deportation. After the staff change, the train headed off for Bologna. Neither the Vatican, nor the Red Cross, nor Switzerland, nor the other neutral countries were able to find news of the deportees. It’s calculated that only those from October 16 amounted to more than one thousand people, but that figure is certainly lower than the real one because many entire families were taken away, without leaving any traces, relatives or friends who could have reported their disappearance.”

Testimony of Armino Wachsberger, in Arminio Wachsberger, L’interprete. Dalle leggi razziali alla Shoah, storia di un italiano sopravvissuto alla bufera, a cura di Clara e Silvia Wachsberger, Milano, Proedi, 2010.

“On October 18, a Monday, they woke us before dawn and ordered us to gather together with all our things.
The same black trucks that took us to the Military College were ready in the courtyard to transport us again. The convoy moved through the whole of Rome, still deserted because of the curfew, then drove down Via Tiburtina to reach the railway station of the same name. But the trucks didn’t stop at the passenger terminal, they carried on further down, to the hub for loading animals and goods.
We got off the trucks and found ourselves almost in the centre of the railway yards, in an area clearly well out of sight of the other passengers, the ‘normal’ ones.
You could see a long, reddish goods train parked on the tracks, with sliding doors left wide open, revealing an almost totally dark interior.
It had about 20 or so wagons. The mere idea of getting into it was repugnant and humiliating at the same time. The SS forced all the prisoners to climb into the cattle wagons until they were incredibly packed. As soon as a wagon was crammed full of passengers, the soldiers slid the doors shut and locked them with a metal bar that sealed them from the outside.
I stayed outside until the operation was completed because I had to translate the orders from the SS, then I got into the last wagon with my family…”

“On October 20, the train reached the Brennero pass and stopped at the border. The Italian staff left the convoy and were replaced by Germans. The cattle wagons were opened. By this point we were on our last legs, with no strength left, immobile, freezing cold with clothes that were far too lightweight for that altitude…”

“The evening of the third day, the convoy stopped at Furth Im Wald, in Bavaria. Some German women from the Red Cross boarded the train, bringing some barley soup for us prisoner, reduced to a pitiful condition by now…”

“The wagons were opened and they made us get out. I saw a sign in German indicating a toilet for Russian prisoners of war. We were told to use it, and we took the opportunity to try to clean the wagons a little, even though we were forbidden to touch the ever-increasing number of bodies.
A few hours later we set off again. We were like skeletons; even hope – the last thing to die – was fading away, the train continued on, now wrapped in an ominous silence.”

Play Video

Video testimonianze di Sabatino Finzi e Settimia Spizzichino, tratte dal documentario

La Razzia. Roma, 16 ottobre 1943", di Ruggero Gabbai

Play Video

Video testimonianze di Arminio Wachsberger e Settimia Spizzichino, tratte dal documentario

La Razzia. Roma, 16 ottobre 1943", di Ruggero Gabbai

Play Video

Video testimonials by Sabatino Finzi and Settimia Spizzichino, from the documentary

La Razzia. Roma, 16 ottobre 1943", by Ruggero Gabbai

26 Settembre 1943

Villa Wolkonsky (Ambasciata tedesca fino all'occupazione tedesca), via Ludovico di Savoia 11

Ugo Foà e Dante Almansi sono convocati da Herbert Kappler a Villa Wolkonsky per la richiesta dei cinquanta chili d'oro

Ugo Foà, Presidente della Comunità Israelitica di Roma tra il 1941 e il 1944, e Dante Almansi, Presidente dell’Unione delle Comunità Israelitiche Italiane dal 1939 al 1944, vengono convocati da Herbert Kappler, Capo della Polizia di Sicurezza tedesca (Sipo) a Roma, a Villa Wolkonsky, sede dell’ambasciata tedesca fino all’occupazione. Kappler chiede la consegna di 50 chili d’oro alla Comunità, pena la deportazione di 200 dei suoi membri.

APPROFONDIMENTI

  • IMMAGINI
  • DOCUMENTI
  • TESTIMONIANZE
Created with Fabric.js 1.7.22

Ugo Foà

Created with Fabric.js 1.7.22

Dante Almansi

Created with Fabric.js 1.7.22

Herbert Kappler

Created with Fabric.js 1.7.22

villa Wolkonsky

Created with Fabric.js 1.7.22

Verbale dell'interrogatorio

Created with Fabric.js 1.7.22

Almansi in Rigano, p.27

Created with Fabric.js 1.7.22

Video Testimonianza

Created with Fabric.js 1.7.22

Video Testimonianza

Settimia Spizzichino

Fondazione Museo della Shoah, Roma Fondo David Calò

Settimia Spizzichino

Nasce il 15 aprile del 1921 ed è la quarta di sei figli. In un primo tempo la famiglia vive a Tivoli dove il padre, Marco Mosè Spizzichino, è commerciante. Dopo la promulgazione delle leggi antiebraiche, persa la licenza del negozio, la famiglia decide di trasferirsi a Roma, presso le figlie Ada e Gentile ormai sposate.
Il 16 ottobre i nazisti irrompono nell’appartamento di via della Reginella 2, dove gli Spizzichino risiedono. Con la prontezza che la contraddistingue, Settimia riesce a salvare la sorella Gentile e i suoi tre figli dichiarandoli non ebrei. Lei viene però deportata con la madre Grazia Di Segni, le sorelle Giuditta e Ada, la nipotina Rosanna di solo 18 mesi.
All’arrivo a Birkenau solo Settimia e Giuditta superano la selezione, mentre le altre vengono mandate alle camere a gas. Giuditta, purtroppo, non sopravvive al lavoro schiavo.
Settimia, immatricolata con il numero 66210, viene successivamente trasferita ad Auschwitz I per essere sottoposta a una terribile sperimentazione medica a cui miracolosamente sopravvive. Nel gennaio del 1945 deve affrontare anche la “marcia della morte” verso il campo di Bergen-Belsen, dove rimane fino all’arrivo degli inglesi. L’11 settembre rientra finalmente a Roma.
Settimia è una delle prime persone sopravvissute ad Auschwitz a testimoniare il dramma della Shoah, impegno che avrebbe onorato per tutta la vita.
Nel 1996 esce il suo libro: Gli anni rubati. Muore il 3 luglio 2000 a Roma.

Nasce il 15 aprile del 1921 ed è la quarta di sei figli. In un primo tempo la famiglia vive a Tivoli dove il padre, Marco Mosè Spizzichino, è commerciante. Dopo la promulgazione delle leggi antiebraiche, persa la licenza del negozio, la famiglia decide di trasferirsi a Roma, presso le figlie Ada e Gentile ormai sposate.
Il 16 ottobre i nazisti irrompono nell’appartamento di via della Reginella 2, dove gli Spizzichino risiedono. Con la prontezza che la contraddistingue, Settimia riesce a salvare la sorella Gentile e i suoi tre figli dichiarandoli non ebrei. Lei viene però deportata con la madre Grazia Di Segni, le sorelle Giuditta e Ada, la nipotina Rosanna di solo 18 mesi.
All’arrivo a Birkenau solo Settimia e Giuditta superano la selezione, mentre le altre vengono mandate alle camere a gas. Giuditta, purtroppo, non sopravvive al lavoro schiavo.
Settimia, immatricolata con il numero 66210, viene successivamente trasferita ad Auschwitz I per essere sottoposta a una terribile sperimentazione medica a cui miracolosamente sopravvive. Nel gennaio del 1945 deve affrontare anche la “marcia della morte” verso il campo di Bergen-Belsen, dove rimane fino all’arrivo degli inglesi. L’11 settembre rientra finalmente a Roma.
Settimia è una delle prime persone sopravvissute ad Auschwitz a testimoniare il dramma della Shoah, impegno che avrebbe onorato per tutta la vita.
Nel 1996 esce il suo libro: Gli anni rubati. Muore il 3 luglio 2000 a Roma.

Fondazione Museo della Shoah, Roma Fondo David Calò

Contattaci

Ritratto di Ugo Foà (1887-1953), presidente della Comunità Israelitica di Roma nei primi anni '40 e per tutto il periodo dell'occupazione nazista, in veste di procuratore generale della Corte d'appello di Roma (1934 - 1938).

Federico Spoltore, olio su tela. Museo Ebraico di Roma

Ritratto di Ugo Foà (1887-1953), presidente della Comunità Israelitica di Roma nei primi anni '40 e per tutto il periodo dell'occupazione nazista, in veste di procuratore generale della Corte d'appello di Roma (1934 - 1938).

Federico Spoltore, olio su tela. Museo Ebraico di Roma

Dante Almansi (1877-1949), giurista, prefetto, consigliere della Corte dei Conti dal 1930 fino alla promulgazione delle leggi antiebraiche. Presidente dell'Unione delle Comunità Israelitiche Italiane dal 1939 al 1944.

Renzo De Felice, Storia degli ebrei italiani sotto il fascismo, Torino, Einaudi, 1988

Dante Almansi (1877-1949), giurista, prefetto, consigliere della Corte dei Conti dal 1930 fino alla promulgazione delle leggi antiebraiche. Presidente dell'Unione delle Comunità Israelitiche Italiane dal 1939 al 1944.

Renzo De Felice, Storia degli ebrei italiani sotto il fascismo, Torino, Einaudi, 1988

Herbert Kappler (1907-1978), Capo della Polizia di Sicurezza tedesca (Sipo) a Roma.

Bundesarchiv, Berlin

Herbert Kappler (1907-1978), Capo della Polizia di Sicurezza tedesca (Sipo) a Roma.

Bundesarchiv, Berlin

Villa Wolkonsky durante l'occupazione nazista.

The National Archives, Kew, London

Villa Wolkonsky durante l'occupazione nazista.

The National Archives, Kew, London

Verbale dell'interrogatorio di Kappler, avvenuto il 22 agosto 1947, sulla convocazione dei due presidenti Foà e Almansi per la richiesta dei 50 chili d'oro.

Tribunale Militare di Roma

Verbale dell'interrogatorio di Kappler, avvenuto il 22 agosto 1947, sulla convocazione dei due presidenti Foà e Almansi per la richiesta dei 50 chili d'oro.

Tribunale Militare di Roma

Dante Almansi sul suo colloquio con Herbert Kappler, in Sivia Haia Antonucci, Claudio Procaccia, Gabriele Rigano, Giancarlo Spizzichino, Roma, 16 ottobre 1943. Anatomia di una deportazione, Milano, Guerini e associati, 2006.

“Voi e i vostri correligionari avete la cittadinanza italiana, ma di ciò a me importa poco. Noi tedeschi vi consideriamo unicamente ebrei e come tali nostri nemici. Anzi, per essere più chiari, noi vi consideriamo come un gruppo distaccato, ma non isolato dei peggiori fra i nemici contro i quali stiamo combattendo. E come tali dobbiamo trattarvi. Però non sono le vostre vite né i vostri figli che vi prenderemo se adempirete alle nostre richieste. È il vostro oro che vogliamo per dare nuove armi al nostro paese. Entro 36 ore dovete versarmene 50 Kg. Se lo verserete non vi sarà fatto del male. In caso diverso, 200 fra voi verranno presi e deportati in Germania alla frontiera russa o altrimenti resi innocui.”

Da G. Debenedetti, 16 ottobre 1943, Torino, Einaudi, 2001.

“Effettivamente, la sera del 26 settembre 1943, il presidente della Comunità Israelitica di Roma e quello dell’Unione delle Comunità Italiane – tramite il dott. Cappa, funzionario della Questura – erano stati convocati per le ore 18 all’Ambasciata Germanica. Li ricevette, paurosamente cortese e «distinto», il Maggiore delle SS Herbert Kappler, che li fece accomodare e per qualche momento parlò del più e del meno in tono di ordinaria conversazione. Poi entrò nel merito: gli ebrei di Roma erano doppiamente colpevoli, come italiani […] per il tradimento contro la Germania, e come ebrei perché appartenenti alla razza degli eterni nemici della Germania. Perciò il governo del Reich imponeva loro una taglia di 50 chilogrammi d’oro, da versarsi entro le ore 11 del successivo martedì 28. In caso di inadempienza, razzia e deportazione in Germania di 200 ebrei. Praticamente: poco più di un giorno e mezzo per trovare 50 chili d’oro.”

Play Video

titolo

descrizione

Play Video

titolo

descrizione