“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.”