tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-88882608893737815022024-03-18T09:19:08.363+01:00Remembering Fascist CampsWestern culture desperately needs more memory.
Our aim is to recall some of what has been lost.Manca Juvanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04803138780562724910noreply@blogger.comBlogger23125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8888260889373781502.post-26640930732342841182014-09-25T17:23:00.001+02:002021-01-08T16:59:31.761+01:00Choosing Life and Family<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 9px; line-height: 12px;">©</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 9px; line-height: 12px;"> </span><span style="font-size: x-small; text-align: left;">Ivan Krašnja private archive</span></div>
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T<span style="font-size: x-small; text-align: left;">he Women's sector of the Rab Concentration Camp captured in a postcard from 1943. Od the left side a small part of the Jewish sector (built barracks) is visible. </span></div>
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A white-haired, svelte-figured man, who introduced himself as Ivan Krašnja (1947), approached me at the opening of the <span style="color: #cc0000;">Last Witnesses, memories from fascist camps</span> exhibition in Maribor. In his hand a black and white photo. It turned out to be a postcard from Rab, dated September 13th 1953. He was holding a postcard capturing a fascist concentration camp for civilians on a Croatian island of Rab, operating from July 1942 to September 1943. The concentration camp is represented in it's late phase of operation when the tents were removed and inhuman living conditions improved. </div>
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His father Janez Krašnja (1911-1967) wrote a postcard as a former fascist camp internee sending regards to the family while participating at the 10th anniversary of the camp liberation. </blockquote>
Janez was working as a teacher in Maribor and just got his firstborn child, daughter Jelka (1941), when the war in Yugoslavia broke out. In April 1941, Maribor was occupied by the Nazis. Janez decided to move his family to fascist-controlled Ljubljana, which was believed to be a safer place.<br />
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In July 1942 he was denounced to the Italian authorities as a member of intelligence and a reserve officer of Yugoslav royal army. He was sent to Rab concentration camp. Early in the year 1943 the Italian army started to mobilize internees for Milizia Volontaria Anti-Communista (MVAC), a fascist controlled anticomunist volunteer militia, which would help them fight the partisans. <br />
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Janez, weighing only 40 kilos at the time, was at the very end of his life strength and volunteered to join the militia he personally disagreed with. He considered this step as the only way to save himself and to see his family again. </blockquote>
Though totally exhausted, he managed to jump off a moving train on the way from the camp to Ljubljana. He was hiding in a village close to Ljubljana and got in contact with his wife Marica (1913-1963). He slowly recovered and looked forward to join the partisan resistance movement.<br />
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Only in January 1944 did he manage to get in touch with the partisan movement. Years later he discovered why it took him so long.<br />
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In the paranoid war years he was considered untrustworthy for he was released from the fascist camp before the eventual capitulation of the fascist regime in September 1943. The stigma of suspicion had chased him deep into the postwar years.</blockquote>
Apart from its documentary value, the postcard is a medium of a touching war memory, which addresses a fundamental dilemma, familiar to the majority of the people during the war. Any war. Which principle to follow? The one that is in accordance with the idea of national liberation or the one that keeps you and your family safe? Often the two choices exclude one another.<br />
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Urška Strlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04580954610669472649noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8888260889373781502.post-29809876007155893492014-06-18T15:38:00.000+02:002014-06-18T15:39:42.868+02:00I was an activist<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 9px; line-height: 12px; text-align: center;"> © Manca Juvan</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">At 99, Anton Vratuša is the oldest living survivor of italian fascist concentration camps in Slovenia. During fascist occupation he was, as an academic and as a member of resistance, arrested in Ljubljana. </span></div>
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Than he was in internment in four fascist camps.</blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">First he was deported to fascist camps for civilians and political prisoners in Italy: Gonars, Treviso and Chiesanuova (Padua). From there he was transferred to a Croatian island Rab, a camp where the internees from Slovenia suffered the most.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Experiencing four of twelve major fascist concentration camps for inhabitants from occupied slovene ethnic territories of the Kingdom of Yugoslavia we looked forward to Mr. Vratuša for a simple answer about the character of fascist camps. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"> "I can not give an unanimous description of fascist concentration camps," Ms. Vratuša said. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Each group of internees had a different experience depending upon the time of her internment. Living condition varied depending of the state of development of the detention facility and the geographical region. Some of the camps were in use as detention sites before the outbrake of the second world war, some were under construction and internees were caring out the building works. Internees experienced wildly differing circumstances. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">According to their testimonials they all suffered malnutrition, poor hygiene and general neglect. </span><br />
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There was something Mr. Vratuša was able to summarize about Italian fascist concentration camps: "I noticed that the majority of internees suffered badly. They were thinking only about the tragedy they found themselves in. I've made a decision that I will carry on my fight inside the camp or from the outside. I don't remember experiencing tragedy. I was an activist and I behave as such, as an activist."</blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">"Several hundreds students and university colleagues were sent first to a concentration camp Gonars," Mr. Vratuša told. The very second day of the internment Mr. Vratuša, at the time a young intellectual in his activist mode, didn't follow the orders to salut with a fascist </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Saluto Romano</i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">. His act of disobedience created confusion. He was tied at the pillar and left without food and water for a day. "After that they left me alone. I continued my culture work and taught internees as an activists of the national Liberation front. As many others I was fighting the aggressors with different means."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">From Gonars he was transfered to three other fascist concentration camps: Treviso and Padua in Italy and the island of Rab in Croatia.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Did concentration camp managers used similar punishment methods?</span></div>
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"Tying to the pillar was a common method. Sometimes internees were bitten, but not as much as at Rab. There the camp commander, Colonel Vincenzo Cuiuli, was <i>feroce</i> - ferocious. He used to hit internees with a whip and used his dog for intimidation. One of the internees was caught while escaping. Cuiuli in person shot him to death. Compared to other camps leaders he was the most violent. For that reason the concentration camp on Rab became known as an execution camp."</blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">At the time of the Italian capitulation in September 1943 Mr. Vratuša was part of the underground military movement, who's leaders carried on a take over of the concentration camp Rab. Between 3.500 internees, majority of them of Slovene nationality, 300 Jews and 60 of Croatian nationality formed a Rab Brigade and disarmed the italian army. No casualties were recorded. </span></div>
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Sasa Petejanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13643610012595657244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8888260889373781502.post-11448514256349899242013-09-05T16:02:00.001+02:002021-01-08T16:58:43.506+01:00The Consequences of the Internment<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"> <span style="font-size: xx-small;">Peter (second from the left) among friends, who were all diagnozed for tuberculosis. Jože and Anda Ovsec (the two on the right) died in a couple of years. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">The original photo is kept in the private archive of Peter Starič. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Peter
Starič<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(1924) was a 16-year old student
of secondary school, when the Axis powers occupied the Kingdom Yugoslavia. As a kid
he wasn't much interested in the politics and war interpretations, he was more
into music and teenage things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was
also a keen amateur radio operator and was lucky he wasn't caught for that activity.</span><br />
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">On 26th of June 1942, when he was only 17, he was arrested
and later deported to the Gonars concentration camp with many other peers. According
to the secret war decree, all men in the area from 15 to 50 years of age were meant
to be confined. Students particularly were considered a dangerous element in
the eyes of Italian authorities for they might join the Partisan forces.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">At first he
was convinced they would all be freed from the camp for there was nothing they
did wrong and no trial was initiated against them. Slowly he started to realize
that the 'mistake' is a consequence of the paranoid war time, which tended to
disable every potential opponent.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">During the
first day in the camp, he met his sister’s boyfriend Ivo whom he failed to
recognize. »Oh, I didn't know it was you. You're so terribly skinny!«, »You
will be the same soon«, responded Ivo rather cynically. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Malnutrition
weakened almost every one. They were supposed to get 800 calories a day, but the
majority got substantially less, for much of the food was stolen or distributed
unjustly. Consequently, the immune
system of the internees dropped significantly. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Peter remembers they laid in
beds for the whole day in order to save up energy. Many<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>- Peter as well <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>- suffered from severe disentery outbreak in
the hot sunny weather.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">As autumn
approached he was transferred to the Monigo concentration camp. Living
conditions there were slightly better, but poor nutrition continued. Apart from
that the internees were molested by lice. Peter gradually got weak, dizzy and
terribly tired. At that time, he believes, his tuberculosis began to evolve. At
the intervention of his brother Jože, who befriended an Italian officer, he was
freed from the camp already in the end of December 1942. In time. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Peter was a tall boy of 187 cm, but he
only weighted 41 kg when he returned back home. “They offered us an effective
slimming treatment in the camp”, remarks ever witty Peter.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Once back
in school Peter refused everything Italian. »If my Italian teacher called me in
front of the blackboard, I couldn't open my mouth, though she was kind to me. I
didn't make any homework or anything regarding my Italian lessons. I simply
couldn't make it. I couldn't do anything at all,« writes Peter in his recently published memoirs Moje življenje v totalitarizmu [My life in totalitarianism] (1941-1991).</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">In the following
weeks after the return his health condition seriously worsened and he was
diagnosed with tuberculosis. He was fighting the disease, which was still
rather lethal at that time, for eleven years. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">He was lucky to have survived, for
many of his friends didn’t.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">His story suggests that the internment didn’t
end with the closure of the camp, but continued with prolonged memories of
starvation, imprisonment, homesickness, humiliation etc. It continued with his
exhausted body that needed years to recover. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Not only the mortality rate in the camp
itself, also the (lethal) consequences in decades following the internment
should be taken into consideration when rethinking the harshness of the
concentration camps.</span></div>
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Urška Strlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04580954610669472649noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8888260889373781502.post-35248097307362459202013-08-10T14:05:00.003+02:002021-01-08T17:00:09.519+01:00Please, write his name on the memorial<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 9px; line-height: 12px;">© Manca Juvan</span></td></tr>
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When Marjana Pahor called on the phone I was strongly impacted by the intense narration. She tried to summarize and convey the destiny of her grandfather Angel Pahor. <br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Most of all she was proposing a social act of remembrance: "We keep the identification number of his internment. Is there a possibility to write his name on the memorial in Gonars? The history forgot him." I didn't have the answer to Ms. Pahor's request but I was experiencing pain and suffering contained in the memory about her grandfather. </blockquote>
I remember our phone conversation beginning with: "My grandmother never got back the body of my grandfather." With this words a grandchild Marjana Pahor set the content and the flow of a conversation. <br />
<br />
"He dug Teleskop with his hands. Pirnat (Niko) and Magajna (Bogomir) told it," Ms. Pahor began a string of second- or firsthand collected memories mentioning two representatives of Slovene cultural elite at the time. According to what she was told her grandfather was connected with a group of internees who dug an underground tunnel and escaped the camp. The escape was named Teleskop. "I am not asking for his name to be written down because he is my grandfather. I am talking about a person who was a friend of <a href="http://www.poetryinternationalweb.net/pi/site/poet/item/5043/23/Srecko-Kosovel" target="_blank">Srečko Kosovel</a>, a person who supported the culture." She enforced the statement by revealing that Riko Debenjak, a Slovene painter and printmaker was her grandfather's friend. He became his son's Sergej Pahor godfather. When the family lost a father, Debenjak supported the education of Angel's sons. One became a journalist, the other a scientist and a professor of quantum physics.<br />
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In Pahor family Italian fascist camps were not a topic of a conversation. Internment was a later stage in Ms. Pahor's family experience of fascism.<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Her ancestral past was changed by a Treaty of Rapallo. Italy, by signing the treaty, recognized the Kingdom of Serbs, Croats and Slovenes. In exchange a portion of territory inhabited by Slovene ethnic group, known as Primorska (Littoral) Region, came under the Kingdom of Italy. From year 1922, Angel Pahor and his family became subject to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Italianization" target="_blank">forced cultural and ethnic assimilation</a> of the native minority populations living in the former Austro-Hungarian territories. "The family fled fascism and escaped to Ljubjana," Ms. Pahor told. </blockquote>
Later in the day of our phone call I visited Ms. Pahor. She shown me documents and objects preserved after his grandfather. She preserved a drawing, a caricature, of her grandfather made in the concentration camp Gonars. Angel Pahor was in internment as an activist and anti-fascist. "My grandmother told me how she run after a transport train living the station in Ljubljana for Gonars," Ms. Pahor shared transmitted memories.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"My grandfather is a tabu in our family," Ms. Pahor said before verbalizing testimonials about him. </blockquote>
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In search of her grandfather Angel Pahor (1897) past Ms. Pahor learned that he was extremely honest. In internment he gave the last piece of bread to children. It is of immense importance to her hearing from one of the witnesses that her grandfather left the concentration camp in Gonars among the last. "He went in the camp and checked if someone was left behind," she repeated what she was told. </div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"He came to Ljubljana from Gonars after the capitulation of Italy. Than he was killed and left somewhere …. This was such a pain," Ms. Pahor shared a family's loss and unfinished grieving. </blockquote>
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The past of Angel Pahor as known by his descendants is fragmented. He died after the internment in situation unknown to his family. He has no grave, he is not remembered among fascist camp internees, he is not remembered as anti-fascist. </div>
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What is provoking a constant pain in his granddaughter who is making attempts to create his legacy?<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"As a young girl I could't understand that he has no grave, that he has no place to lit a candle," she told.</blockquote>
To establish his internment and have his name written on the Gonars concentration camp victims memorial Marjana Pahor should contact the Concentration camp Rab-Gonars commeette (<a href="http://www.zzb-nob.si/kontakt-in-lokacija/" target="_blank">Taboriščni odbor Rab-Gonars</a>). Reconstructing Angel Pahor's past the <a href="http://www.arhiv.gov.si/" target="_blank">Archive of Republic of Slovenia</a> is a right place to search. A large collection of documents (kilometers of documents) created in the administration headquarters of the occupied Province of Ljubljana, among them documents of arrests in the Province of Ljubljana and name lists of internees in the fascist concentration camps, is preserved. A novel <i>Teleskop</i> (1954), written by Ivan Bratko, one of the organizers of the escape from the concentration camp Gonars, is a valuable document of past events too. </div>
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Hopefully last suggestions will help the Pahor family in the process of a rightful and truthful remembrance of Angel Pahor. </div>
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Sasa Petejanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13643610012595657244noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8888260889373781502.post-10592432759233833382013-08-06T13:34:00.003+02:002021-01-08T17:00:21.494+01:00Memories war orphan lives with<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<br />
When Magda Lovec Trtnik (1932) attended school in occupied Ljubljana she wasn't allowed to tell her father was shot as a hostage and her mother killed at Urh, a location known for torture and killings of partizans and supporters of the resistance. "Tell them they died before the war," were the instructions Ms. Lovec Trtnik, a World War II orphan, received. <br />
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For years she was holding for herself events that marked her life since she was nine years old. For her as for many others the Word War II and the italian occupation of the slovene territory turned into a life sentence. <br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
The truth is that her father, a political activist and member of resistance, was shot by italian soldiers as hostage in Ljubljana at Gramonza jama on June 11, 1942. </blockquote>
Tone Trtnik, later a national hero, was one of seven hostages killed that day. Shot hostages were buried in two graves. "At the time my aunt visited the graves and lit the candles. One candle died out. She decided that my father is buried in the grave with the lit candle," Ms. Trtnik explained how this simple belief influenced the location of her father's grave. It stayed unquestioned until today. It is of immense importance and consolation to Ms. Lovec Trtnik to have a known place she can visit and pay respects to her father.<br />
<br />
Her mother, Justina Trtnik, was an activist and member of resistance too. "One morning when she left for work - she was working at the paper factory Papirnica Vevče - italian soldiers arrested her," Ms. Lovec Trtnik remembered the September 18, 1942 events. Her mother was arrested and sent in internment on the island of Rab. "The soldiers searched for me too. My grandmother sent me on time to known people in a neighboring village," Ms. Lovec Trtnik beleives that day she escaped the internment. <br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Letters and postcards her mother wrote in interment where messages of encouragement, care and love. Ms. Lovec Trtnik preserved all of them. She read them many times and she shown them to her children and grandchildren. "When I read her letters and postcards I cry," she told. </blockquote>
Letters are full of mother's care for the daughters survival and future. She was allowed to write to her doughtier on Thursday, we learned form Ms. Lovec Trtnik. Through letters Justina Trtnik encouraged her doughter to learn at school, get healthy and never turn down anything important. In a child story stile she described the internment. She wrote about animals in internment. She wrote about lice.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
In April 1943 her mother was released from italian fascist internment. </blockquote>
Once back home Ms. Lovec Trtnik remembers her mother being weak. But nothing was in a way for Justina trtnik to go back to work. "It's from work that she once came home and announced the capitulation of Italy," Mr. Lovec Trtnik remembered.<br />
<br />
The capitulation of Italy was just a short period that turned to be a period of exchange of occupiers, soldiers and troops in Ljubljana and its suburbs. Soon German soldiers took over the territory. With Germans their local allies the so called <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/White_Guard_(Slovenia)" target="_blank">White Guard</a> and Slovene Home Guard - <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Slovene_Home_Guard" target="_blank">domobranci</a> got power. They arrested Justina Trtnik at the end of November 1943, seven month after her release from the internment. "She never came back," Ms. Lovec Trnik said. Her mother is one of non-identified victims at <a href="http://translate.google.com/translate?sl=sl&tl=en&js=n&prev=_t&hl=en&ie=UTF-8&u=http%3A%2F%2Fsl.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FSveti_Urh_%28hrib%29" target="_blank">Urh</a>.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Ms. Lovec Trtnik assisted to the exhumations of the mass grave at Urh. She was a 13-years old war orphan and she was standing and staring at corpses in an attempt to recognize her mother's outfit. </blockquote>
The exhumations stopped before all the victims were unburied. Justina Trtnik was never found and she doesn't have a grave. "It is difficult to explain the importance of a memorial place where you can visit your dear ones," Ms. Lovec Trtnik told.<br />
<br />
She shown us all the material heritage she is preserving from her childhood: letters, few photos, articles cut from newspapers … Among them was a little orange notebook. She opened it on a page where she wrote dates of her father's birth, arrest and death and of her mother's arrest. It was heart braking to step in shoes of a ten or thirteen years old girl who is writing down in her notebook dates of loss of her parents and not dates of falling in love with a boy from the same class.</div>
Sasa Petejanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13643610012595657244noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8888260889373781502.post-16177449506453581042013-08-05T12:50:00.002+02:002021-01-08T17:00:34.169+01:00A functioning military base at Monigo<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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We prolonged our time sitting in a car parked in front of the functioning military area of Caserma Luigi Cadorin in Monigo, a subburb three kilometers north-west from the historic downtown of Treviso. It served us to calm down our hesitation. We were about to walk to the guard. He was fully equipped and looked like a soldier, who just came back from mission in Iraq, Bosnia, Kosovo or Afghanistan. Both, the photographer and I, were perplex at the look of a young soldier dressed in camouflage military uniform and wearing a bulletproof vest. He was listening to our inquiry from behind the glass of the facility that was separating soldiers from us, the civilian population.</div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
The armed guard listened to our inquiry and turned his back to speak to someone we couldn't see. Turning back to us, standing on the other side of the glass division, he confirmed that he area of the <i>caserma</i> - an area of military barracks and training course - was once an area of detention. "Inside there is nothing marking the past," he said. </blockquote>
Mainly Slovene and Croatian civilians were in internment in Monigo from July 1942 until the capitulation of Italy in September 1943. It is estimated that over the operation period 10.000 civilians were in detention.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
As in other italian fascist concentration camps so in Monigo internees suffered hunger. Among estimated 200 victims hunger was the main cause of death, followed by tuberculosis, illnesses caused by cold and overcrowding. </blockquote>
Leaving the military area parking lot we headed to Treviso, the capital of the italian region of Veneto. In preparation of our search of fascist concentration camp locations we learned that in January 2013 a memorial to victims of fascist camps was inaugurated in Treviso. The media reporting the event didn't report its location. We seek help from locals. Finally a taxi drivers joint search with their smart phones got as back on track. Our findings are captured in a video.</div>
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Sasa Petejanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13643610012595657244noreply@blogger.comTreviso, Italy45.6669011 12.24303899999995345.5781346 12.081677499999953 45.755667599999995 12.404400499999953tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8888260889373781502.post-57979738710556145802013-07-30T18:22:00.004+02:002021-01-08T17:00:45.539+01:00Her internment began in Bakar, Croatia<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 9px; line-height: 12px;"> © Manca Juvan</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Ivanka Zamida, a survivor of three italian fascist camps, greeted us at her home in <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ko%C4%8Devje" target="_blank">Kočevje</a> - the largest city in the area that was exposed to extreme fascist ethnic cleansing and designated, as a region reach in timber, to be populated by Italians from South of Italy. Ms. Zamida welcomed me even if her health was deteriorating. She was open to tell what she remembers. Deeper in the memories we went more upset and agitated she got. Nonetheless she didn't stop. She was committed to make herself available until all what she find important was told. <br /><br />She was born in a poor peasant family of six children in 1929 in the village of Papeži. Her account began with an incursion of Italian soldiers. "It was an ordinary day. They came and surrounded the village. Soldiers were robing the houses. They took everything. There was not much. They took the chickens, put the pigs on a truck. They killed what they couldn't take. Our heifer didn't want to move. They shoot it and drag it down. They tied the men and locked them in the school building."</span><br />
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The next vivid memory Ms. Zamida recalled located us in Western Croatia, in horse stables in a coastal town of Bakar. At the time she didn't know she arrived in a concentration camp for civilians, first of the three she was in internment. </blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Ms. Zamida didn't know her internment didn't start on Rab but in <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bakar" target="_blank">Bakar</a>. How could she? During the time of war she knew her home was burned down, the live stock taken away or killed and that they were forced to leave the village. The internment in the concentration camp was unprecedented to her and to the memory of her family. She was familiar with the war and the loss of soldiers. Many men from her area were enrolled and fought the WW1. The concept of internment of civilians was new.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Later, during the post WW2 period in Yugoslavia she could't gain much insight in her internment - fascist concentration camps were not a topic of significant importance. Similar was at the level of european historic research of WW2 and social awareness.</span><br />
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Until today<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><a href="http://www.campifascisti.it/scheda_campo.php?id_campo=145" target="_blank">Bakar concentration camp</a> for civilians remains poorly researched. The area of the camp and it's cemetery are part of an industrial area. </blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Italian army established the concentration camp for civilians in Bakar soon after occupation of half of Croatia's territory in June 1942. <a href="http://instituteapis.org/italian-fascist-camps/" target="_blank">Visiting the area</a> with a colleague, an audio documentarist <a href="http://www.ilnarratore.com/autori/idx/256/" target="_blank">Andrea Giuseppini</a>, a writer, journalist and translator <a href="http://it.wikipedia.org/wiki/Giacomo_Scotti" target="_blank">Giacomo Scotti</a>, known as a fervent anti-fascist and communist, and a kind local men, Ivan Butković, who guided us to the camp location, we were looking for a memorial. Nidless to say, we found a vast industrial area and looked at the supposed cemetery of camp victims over a high metal fence. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Ms. Zamida remembered her mother being in an awful condition in Bakar. "The doctor said, she would receive help if not an interee," Ms. Zamida recalled. Shortly a whole family, except two sons who where migration workers in France, was transported to the concentration camp on island of Rab: women in a female section, their father in the male section of the concentration camp. Her mother, Julijana Zbašnik, died soon after arrival on Rab. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> <br />"Father was visiting us during our stay on Rab. Three sister and me were so foolish to put bread aside for him. If he didn't come to collect it, we sent it through our cousin. He never delivered the bread to our father. He ate it himself." <br /> <br />In the concentration camp Kampor on the island of Rab children until age of 14 were forced to the sea. "I was so sad. I couldn't socialize. I sat on my mess bowl touching the sea with my feet. I couldn't do much. I was so sad." And they were suffering hunger. <br /> <br />As children they searched kitchen rotting leftovers hoping to find something to calm the persistent hunger. "Out of desperation I was once among this kids. Suddenly an officer hit me on the head with a stick having a metal square and a hook on the top. I was wounded. I've got a bruise and a swelling on my head." </span><br />
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There were other reasons than officer's violence that prevented her from searching food scraps: "Didn't take us long to learn that kids eating rotting food were soon gone." </blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Remembering a short documentary made on concentration camp of Rab Ms. Zamida got upset. "My son Dušan brought me the documentary. I can not watch it," she made it know that remembering requires a substantial amount of control to cope with strong emotions that could overwhelm her at any moment. At that moment I was questioning myself if awakening survivor's past memories of dehumanization, suffering, pain, mistreatment, violence, loss, death and illness is appropriate. As a researcher and an interviewer I needed to stay with my grief. The gift of empathy at moments seemed to be a curse. <br /><br /> "My uncle died there, my aunt, … I lost at least ten relatives on Rab and at home, where they were killed," Ms. Zamida summarized her family loss in war. <br /><br /> She was moved from Rab to a concentration camp in an italian town of Gonars, to a barrack number 21. She remembers arriving during a cold snowy winter.</span><br />
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Among many memories she recalled a priest who was holding a mass. "I didn't attend. I stop attending mass since I saw the priest blessing the dead and the alive who were than shot. I don't judge the existence or the non-existence of god. If there is God, he would act at the time when we were suffering so much," Ms. Zamida placed herself among many who, while exposed to atrocities, looked forward for an action of an interventionist God. As for many, so for Ms. Zamida, God died during WW2. </blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">To whom could possibly turn a 14 years old girl who is kept captured in an unknown land, suffering extreme deprivation and fighting flies, malnutrition and dysentery. <br /><br /> In September 1943 she and her sisters left the concentration camp at Gonars among the first. They were disoriented and walked the Italian territory left to the mercy of its inhabitants. "One of the woman told us to left behind our handicapped sister. Can you believe this? " She recalled they walked from Gonars to Udine and back to Palmanova where they caught a train to Slovenia. The train was taking them for an approximately hundred kilometers ride back home to the occupied territory where Slovene Partisans, an anti-nazi resistance movement, were fighting Nazi Germans.</span>
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Her cousins didn't left with first groups of internees. They were captured by Nazi Germans and transported to the Dachau concentration camp. "They died in Dachau. If they would left with us, they would be alive," she remarked. </blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Ms. Zamida and her three sisters reached their village to find out that nothing was left behind. Begging for food marked their recovery from internment until they find a job as maids. Her father returned from the internment too. <br /><br /> Our interview was over and Ms. Zamida's son Dušan joined us. He was tensed and overwhelmed by the event too. While talking in the living room there was more light and less heaviness. Looking at Ms. Zamida I noticed her face mussels relaxed. Her right hand stopped shaking. </span></div>
Sasa Petejanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13643610012595657244noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8888260889373781502.post-74444261001470946522013-07-22T19:27:00.003+02:002021-01-08T17:00:57.455+01:00Lost Memory Of Chiesanuova<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 9px; line-height: 12px;">© Manca Juvan</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A road Padua-Vicenza lead us to Chiesanuova. We were searching for a military facility, indicated as a former fascist concentration camp area for Yugoslav civilians, mostly Slovenes. Driving we passed by apartment buildings, houses, bars, shops and stores, a church … when suddenly, a wide area opened up and an orange brick building caught our attention. <br /><br />We were supposedly standing at the entrance of the <i>caserma Romagnoli</i>, a shut down Italian military area. It is surrounded by high walls and rusty barbed wire. Gates are locked with chains. </span><br />
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In an absence of a sign, we were guessing if we found a location that during Word War II was a fascist concentration camp, established at the end of July 1942.</blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The first internees - they were 1.429 - were Slovene men from the Province of Ljubljana - an occupied and annexed territory. The camp was in operation for twelve months. Later it received internees from Croatian islands of Zlarin and Rab, and from an Italian island Ustica. During the twelve months of its operation 70 men died.</span><br />
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Facts we share are gathered from history books. There is no memorial preserving the historic memory at the site.</blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Walking the street we greeted people taking care of their garden. Their spacious home is facing the wall of the <i>caserma</i>. I didn't hesitate to ask if they know, what was behind the walls during the war. A lively conversation developed followed by an invitation to enter the house. Our host, remembering his roots and the history of the house, brought a book. He opened it on the page with a large areal picture of Padua, taken during the war. He pointed with a finger his family house and the military area in Chiesanuova. "This area was heavily bombed during the World War II. Do you see the explosion craters? Our house wasn't hit. We were lucky." <br /><br />I repeated the question if, as a family living in the neighborhood of the military area for more than hundred years, he knows if the facility functioned as a concentration camp? Instead of answering he suggested to contact Ugo Usardi, an old man who is knowledgeable about that period of local history. <br /><br />Living Chiesanuova we felt bitter. There is no designated place to remember, grieve and pay our respects. There is no memorial with names of men who died in the internment in Chiesanuova. </span></div>
Sasa Petejanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13643610012595657244noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8888260889373781502.post-87526049593416103692013-06-16T21:11:00.001+02:002021-01-08T17:01:08.587+01:00With a heart for the deprived<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">The first chapter of Cristina Sartori's book entitled Padre Placido Cortese (2010) holds a title after </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Majda Mazovec </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 14px;">©</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Urška Strle</span></div>
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When a tiny, long-haired elderly woman curiously opened the door of her cozy flat, I was a bit surprised, for I expected a rather different figure in regard to the facts I was told about her. Dr. Majda Mazovec (1920) is a retired, yet still vivid pioneer of Slovenian cardiology, who considers humanistic foundations to be essential to her medical vocation. <br />
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During the WW2 she was a promising student of medicine at the University in Padova, Italy. While at the outskirts of Padova, in Chiesanuova, one of many Italian fascist concentration camps was located. <br />
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Majda learned about the nearby camp when she tried to get in contact with her arrested and interned cousin, who – as it turned out – was also among the internees in the Chiesanuova concentration camp. </blockquote>
Soon Majda became a part of undercover help network, led by a Franciscan monk Placido Cortese (1907-1944) who secretly operated as an assured anti-fascist and helped many who were being prosecuted by the fascist regime. As a priest he was appointed to Chiesanuova concentration camp to conduct a religious service for the internees. However, it was young and determined Majda, who convinced p. Cortese, “a small limping man with glasses, dressed in black monk robes”, to help the internees with extra food, money, providing them letters and information. <br />
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“I was motivated for such an activity, for I found it extremely unjust that I could study medicine while others were dying of starvation. There were also my relatives and friends among them and maybe people, who were more important to be in the world than me, a green student of medicine,” dr. Mazovec told. </blockquote>
Majda worked as courier and was in charge of smuggling money, letters and information on relation Ljubljana–Padova. That was a very adventurous and dangerous task, which might have proved costly at the expense of her life in case her legal activities in the excessive time of war were discovered. She was lucky enough she hadn't been caught. She never visited the concentration camp herself, neither did p. Cortese tell her about the circumstances in the camp - for safety reasons. <br />
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Prompt and witted, courageous and empathetic, "a green student of medicine" later became an important Slovenian cardiologist. It seems she has chosen the right profession, if we take into account the difficult, yet hearty actions that could have cost her a life. <br />
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Her venturous deeds unintentionally question us, what would we have done if we were in her shoes. Would we risk our lives to help others as many anonymous individuals like Majda did? Would we?<br />
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Urška Strlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04580954610669472649noreply@blogger.comVia Chiesanuova, Padua, Province of Padua, Italy45.4136795 11.83765779999998845.402533 11.817487799999988 45.424826 11.857827799999988tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8888260889373781502.post-80776104135982689022013-05-29T08:31:00.001+02:002021-01-08T17:01:46.400+01:00Confronting the Past with Photography<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Usually photography is about capturing this key moment, the "now" in an unfolding event. In this photographic project, it's equally if not more about confronting the past.<br />
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In a way, Remembering fascist camps project is a continuation of my previous long term project <a href="http://mancajuvan.com/unordinarylives/" target="_blank">Unordinary Lives</a> that speaks about the war and its consequences on civilian population; they both address the war trauma and bring out things that are usually unpleasant to address or to look at. <br />
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While in Afghanistan the war is ongoing and still very much part of the 'present', in Slovenia the war our project refers to is practically a reality of seven decades ago. However, the long term consequences of it, the trauma transferred through generations, is still much a thing of the present.<br />
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-</style>Photography is surely not a perfect medium - as written or oral
testimonies aren't either. Consequently it has been, unjustly, a subject of much critic by modernist and post-modernist
critics for its anti-analytical nature. If we expect that
photographs explain us how and why things happen(ed), elucidate bad things that
people do to each other, and not just to document it, we often forget
that it is photography more than any other medium that brings out our
visceral feelings. Maybe we can't articulate them instantly or well, but, I believe that
this is a condition for one, for the viewer, to connect with what Roland
Barthes called "the thereness of the world." Moreover, by joining various narrative perspectives in this project
we hope to add to the stories we're telling another dimension.<br />
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Hanna Arendt in her writing about Aushwitz called photographs "instants
of truth", and added that such instants, though not absolute or perfect,
"are in fact all we have available to us to give some order to this
chaos of horror." </blockquote>
That's why looking at what photographs communicate,
I belive, and not getting trapped by deconstructing them in sense of technical or
aesthetic measures, is all the more necessary. <br />
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Manca Juvanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04803138780562724910noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8888260889373781502.post-18015096504758246992013-05-21T20:13:00.004+02:002021-01-08T17:02:03.602+01:00At that time I was very, very hungry<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span id="docs-internal-guid-0a0b167c-ae17-6881-8b34-b9810ef17d4a"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 9px; line-height: 12px; text-align: center;"><b> </b> © Manca Juvan</span></span><br />
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As a preteen, Albina Vogrin was deported to a fascist concentration camp with her family. They first stayed in a tent on the island of Rab, and later they were transferred to barracks in Gonars. Their transfer to the concentration camp in Gonars and the subsequent move into barracks at first provided a source of happiness for them in those desperate times of cold gripping terror, weakness and starvation.<br />
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I arrived to find a lively and spirited 83-year old woman who was patiently awaiting my first question to help awaken those distant memories for our face-to-face interview.<br />
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Historically her words are all that is left from her internment - an internment as lived by a 12-year old girl. There are no photographs, no personal items, no institutionalized collective memory of the Italian fascist concentration camps.</blockquote>
We began with her forced separation from her roots.<br />
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Like other families in occupied Slovenia, Albina's eight member family was violently forced out of their home. They ran into the nearby hills, taking almost nothing of their possessions. What they saw when glancing back was a fiercely burning fire where their house and their village once stood. "Seeing our house in flames hit me badly."<br />
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Only after the war was over, when Ms. Vogrin was invited to a bonfire, did she realize how deeply she had been wounded: "Seeing the fire I collapsed and ran away. After witnessing our home on fire, I wasn't able to stand the sight of fire for decades." </blockquote>
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Ms. Vogrin’s flow of memories brought her back to August 1942, when, for a short period of time, Italian soldiers had captured the whole family. They fetched the villagers and gathered all the men in a line, among them was her father. That was the last time the 12-year old homeless girl saw him. "There was a man pointing at three of villagers. He didn't speak Italian. He just said: "Partizans. Beng. Beng." Only after the war did she discover that her father was buried in a mass grave that he and the other hostages had to dig before being shot.<br />
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As I was listening to the witness's subjective testimony, I became aware that her word was the sole source of the interview's authenticity. And I felt that was appropriate at the first stage of oral history, which attempts to preserve memories that are at risk of loss. What follows is a very careful crafting of those memories, sensitively extrapolating the fragments of Ms. Vogrin internment experiences.<br />
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Memories of internment on Rab</h4>
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Upon arrival at Rab concentration camp, Ms. Vogrin's family was housed in a weathered tent. She shared the stretched canvas shelter, made to accommodate maximum of four people, with eight others of her family: her eighty year old grandmother, her mother, two sisters, two brothers, her aunt and a cousin. Their tent was just one among hundreds of tents located within the concentration camp whose borders were marked with multiple rows of barbed wire. From the watchtowers, hostile armed guards maintained a vigilant watch. "We arrived on August ninth. It was hot. They didn't give us water. We got a little food. We could all fit into our tent only if we were lying down, one next to the other. It was horrible! And we were always hungry. I know that at that time I was always very, very hungry."<br />
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Immediately upon their arrival lice with their piercing mouthparts infested their bodies and feed on their skin. Her mother couldn't hide Albina when the military introduced haircutting as a measure to reduce the parasitic insects. She lost her long braid while the lice stayed. "They gave me the cut braid back. I didn't need it. I was terribly hurt. I was bold. It was hot … I was thirsty … hungry," Ms. Vogrin was re-experiencing her internment. <br />
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Occasionally the Italian military provided a reservoir of water, she told. "People crowded around. They were fighting, instead of each person waiting to get some water. Half of the water was spilled." Death soon flooded Ms. Vogrin's memories. It wasn't long after their arrival that people began dying. </div>
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She discovered that death at a concentration camp arrives unnoticed. </blockquote>
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"I heard women's lament and looked into the tent close to ours. Three boys were lying in the tent, covered in lice. Their mother had died earlier and no one gave them food or checked up on them. Couldn’t anyone have taken a look into their tent?" Ms. Vogrin asked rhetorically. <br />
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"Many family members died only because they fought over food. They were screaming: 'You've got more. No, you've got more'," is what Ms. Vogrin recalled from her early teenage memories. Under their tent, they always took care that the little brother was fed. "We counted the macaroni we've got in a watery soup and shared them equally. That's why we survived."<br />
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One night a sudden wild storm developed over the island. "We didn't know how bad it would be. Suddenly water had run up over our sleeping bodies. We jumped up and rushed towards an exit situated at the highest point of the camp. The guards didn't let us stay out. They chase us back." Ms. Vogrin was speaking faster, her gaze focused on her fingers. The waters took people away. Some drowned; others were knocked over by the streams. "It was horrible. I remember the screams. I remember the cries. Children’s cries. Children were screaming." </div>
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She said that the event was so shocking that later anyone could describe what happened that stormy night. </blockquote>
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"In my family we were all crying after two small bread squares that were swept away by the sea." She extended her arm and opened her palm to show the size of the bread. With a finger of her other hand she drew a square covering nearly half of her small open hand.<br />
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Fighting illnesses in Gonars</h4>
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In December 1942 all members of the family were transferred from Croatia to Italy, to the concentration camp Gonars. "Regarding illnesses, we were not in such bad shape at Rab. The worse began in Gonars," Ms. Vogrin continued her story of the heavy past that was becoming more and more palpable. <br />
<br />
"My grandmother died on May first, 1943. Then my mother got ill. She couldn't move her hands. My cousin got typhoid." That's how Ms. Vogrin began remembering Gonars. Next surfaced a memory of her mother putting together money to buy a kilo of onions. "I jumped on a largest one and ate it. I got a horrible diarrhea." Her mom brought her to the clinic. "I couldn't walk. I was just observing how they moved us from bed to bed. I've noticed that the helplessly ill were in bed closest to the door." The agony began when Ms. Vogrin saw that they covered the face of someone lying next to that door. "She was dead," she said. It was her understanding, death was waiting for the person in that last bed next to the door. Ms. Vogrin was three beds away. "I didn't want to reach that bed. I throw myself on the floor, grabbed the legs of an iron bed, and began pulling. That way I dragged myself to the toilet. I gained such a strong willpower." <br />
<br />
"I've pulled myself out of the worst," said Ms. Vogrin and alleviated the heaviness of the past. </div>
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With the capitulation of Italy, the door of the concentration camp in the Northern Italian city of Gonars opened, setting them free. It took them a month to reach the West of Slovenia where once their family home stood. That journey is a story another on its own. </blockquote>
Although they survived the fascist internment, now they didn't have a home to return to. Ms. Vogrin was then 13-years old and weighted only 21 kilos. Her mother weighted 35 kilos, she remembered. World War II was still raging. Her mother began a new life by walking enormous distances, begging for food from village to village. They had made it to freedom.<br />
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Sasa Petejanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13643610012595657244noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8888260889373781502.post-23346502589217320462013-05-13T09:22:00.001+02:002021-01-08T17:02:16.255+01:00Recollections of the mess bowl <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Stanko Kotnik (1925), whom
I met at the presentation of a bitter graphic novel entitled <a href="http://instituteapis.org/italian-winter/">Italian Winter</a>, turned out
to be an impressive voice of heavy memories from Italian fascist camps. We
recorded more than eight hours of conversation, marked with his extraordinary
diction, powerful articulation, dramatic narration, and improvised
dialogues. </span><br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Following his recounts of
dreadful details on depravation was challenging. When memories were </span>too
painful to be disclosed, he paused them with silence. Frequently, my eyes were
filled with tears. Weeks after our interview, I was still awaking in distress.</blockquote>
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On a plateau of Kampor field on the island of Rab, turned by Italian army into concentration camp in the late July 1942, living conditions were outrageous. There
was a severe shortage of water in the seething summertime. The diet was scarce
and low in nutrients: a cup of watery coffee in the morning, watery vegetable
soup containing some macaroni or rice for lunch, and a piece of bread the size
of a child's fist with a small cube of cheese for dinner. Parcels of food sent
from home were considered a treasure. An internee was allowed to receive a
maximum of five kilos of essential goods per month. There was enough food, yet
the regime denied it to the internees.<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">At the dissolution of the
camp, hundreds of rotten, mold-covered parcels were found in the concentration
camp storehouse.</span></blockquote>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Mr. Kotnik described how
unbearable thirst and starvation aroused barbaric behavior among the internees.
Some were stealing food from others. Others were deliriously accusing others of
theft or selfishness. Some were begging for a tiny piece of bread, rashly
promising a cow or a piece of land for it. Yet, some were willing to share what
little they had. In such agony many people were driven insane. They were
hallucinating, swearing, crying, praying in despair ...</span><br />
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">"We were living in worse
conditions than monkeys in a zoo, clustered in tents on everyone's sight,
without privacy for months ... We were creeping skeletons dressed in dirty
ragged clothes, ... starving, stinking, ... our bodies were full of
wounds, we were enduring pain ... We were completely dehumanized."</span></blockquote>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">In January 1943, when
exhaustion brought Mr. Kotnik close to death, he was ordered to prepare and
leave the camp. On the way to the concentration camp of Visco and Gonars in
Northern Italy, where he was kept untill the capitulation of Mussolini’s Italy,
they stopped at the sanatorium of Reka (nowadays Croatia). "There we've
had nothing to eat for the whole day. Finally they called us for dinner. All of
us, miserable internees, formed a line. I was among the last. I saw they filled
everyone’s mess bowl full with macaroni. ‘They're gonna run out of
food before it's my turn!’ I've panicked desperately. Finally, when my bowl was
filled with pasta, I've realized I might survive and see my home again. I've
sat down on a staircase and began to eat. I started crying. Tears were falling
into the bowl, full of macaroni, but I kept eating while trembling.”</span><br />
<br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The aluminum mess bowl,
which he brought back home, holds a memory of one of the gravest periods of his
life. At the same time it is a symbol of survival in extreme inhumane
conditions. On the outer side the names of fascist concentration camps of Rab,
Visco and Gonars with the dates of relocations, are engraved. S</span>urrounded
by a large heart shape, Reka holds a special place on the bowl. I
instantly understood why.
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Urška Strlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04580954610669472649noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8888260889373781502.post-75022276361136427512013-05-01T09:19:00.001+02:002021-01-08T17:02:26.982+01:00The Storm on the Island Rab<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">We came across this large field in our attempt to locate the site of a concentration camp on the island of Rab. Comparing the reality in front of us to the printed old map indicating this camp for civilians, it all seemed so incomprehensibly bigger now.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Then, an unexpected storm approached. Suddenly, I found myself trudging through the mar<span style="font-size: x-small;">shy</span> grass field, my feet with every further step becoming wetter and wetter. Within moments, while my step was already sinking, I traveled back in time, to the year 1942.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">On this island where water was otherwise scarce, a sudden autumn storm then flooded the camp. The section where mainly women, children and elders were stationed was hurt the most. It only took moments, according to the survivors' testimonies, for hundreds of tents to be soaked and blown away, and the interned shouting in panic: The sea's rising, we'll sink!</span><br />
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Flood water was rising so fast that it went up to people's waists, and its force was such that it carried away the children. But, none of them had any other place to go. Children were found next morning on the barbed wire and in the nearby spring. Dead. Drowned.</blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Soaked myself in only moments from this otherwise normal April weather storm, standing on this very field now barely flooded, I could almost feel the screams and panic which that night storm brought.</span><br />
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Manca Juvanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04803138780562724910noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8888260889373781502.post-46379539589301949392013-04-26T20:47:00.005+02:002021-01-08T17:02:37.362+01:00Shrine dedicated to victims of Gonars<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">A memorial to victims of Mussolini's fascism in Gonars was erected during the cold war period in year 1973. A</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">t the local cemetery </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">a shrine was created </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">by a Yugoslav sculptor Miodrag Živković. The 453 remains of Slovene and Croatian citizens who died in internment were then moved to two crypts at the shrine. </span><br />
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At the time of our unannounced visit municipality workers opened the collective burial place without hesitation, even when in order to do so, they had to drive to Gonars town to get the keys. The keeper spoke reverently about the past. He was eager to tell us about schoolchildren visiting the shrine and a historian <a href="http://shelf3d.com/i/Alessandra%20Kersevan" target="_blank">Alessandra Kersevan</a> leading educational tours on location. With affection he remembered the presence of <a href="http://rememberingfascistcamps.blogspot.com/2013/03/a-pink-cap_21.html" target="_blank">Barbara Miklič Türk</a>, a wife of a former Slovene president, a state representative at one of recent yearly commemorations.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Visiting the shrine was a deeply moving experience. Coming out of the silent humid crypts one faces the sculpture representing a flower: stainless steel petals surrounding a round, blood red mosaic. A keeper suggested to me to step in the middle of the mosaic. His invitation: "Say something", met my discomfort and curiosity. I don't remember what I've uttered, but something unexpected happened. </span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
The waves of sound bounced back amplified. I felt them within my body, in my guts. I gazed in awe at the keeper whose smiling eyes revealed familiarity with the visceral experience I went through seconds ago. </blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I walked away changed. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This experience reinforced the importance </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">of visiting the locations of internment, a commitment we've made when starting the project <i>Remembering Fascist Camps</i>. Our aim's been to be first person witnesses, documentarians of locations that once were Italian fascist concentration camps for Slovene civilians.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br />
Summarizing our 2000 kilometers drive in Italy and Croatia, with less than clear maps and directions marking locations of internment, i</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; text-align: -webkit-auto;">t was because of local people's help, our persistence and intuition </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; text-align: -webkit-auto;">that we've found </span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">all five locations in Italy: <a href="http://rememberingfascistcamps.blogspot.com/search/label/Visco" target="_blank">Visco</a>, Gonars, Monigo Chiesanuova and Renicci, and one location in Croatia. </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px;"> </span><br />
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It was a place where we could pay our respects to the victims, that we were in search for. </blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">While in Gonars (Italy) and the island of Rab (Croatia) memorials are easy to find, on other locations the traces of once existing fascist concentration camps are scarce. However, it's the testimonies of survivors, which you will be able to learn about through this blog, that will reveal otherwise untold fascist interment experiences and memories. You are kindly invited to follow us.</span><br />
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Sasa Petejanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13643610012595657244noreply@blogger.comGonars, Province of Udine, Italy45.8937093 13.24853989999996945.849505799999996 13.167858899999969 45.9379128 13.329220899999969tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8888260889373781502.post-48276779482408794152013-04-23T00:14:00.002+02:002021-01-08T17:03:02.784+01:00A memory captured in a spoon<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span face="Verdana, sans-serif" style="font-size: x-small;">A silver spoon holds war memories of a nurse Martina Košak (1911-1997). Among them dreadful memories of inhumane conditions at the nursery of the Italian fascist concentration camp on island of Rab. </span></div>
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<span face="Verdana, sans-serif" style="font-size: x-small;">Because a nurse, Martina Košak was immediately appointed to an improvised nursery in a building at the time known as the outhouse of Hotel Kontinental. "She was in charge of children. They were laying on the floor. She <span style="font-size: x-small;">said</span> it was horrendous. As a woman and as a nurse she should be helping people, being children or adults, but she had nothing to help with," s<span style="font-size: x-small;">aid</span> Mr. Herman Janež, <span style="font-size: x-small;">an</span> internee himself, who became a custodian of the spoon<span style="font-size: x-small;">.</span></span><br />
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"There was no water, no paper to put under those children who all had terrible diarrhea. Warms grew under their bodies. There were no clothes. She told me the experience was so horrible for her that as a woman and as a nurse she couldn't withstand it," Mr. Herman Janež conveyed.</blockquote>
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<span face="Verdana, sans-serif" style="font-size: x-small;">From collected memories, it became known that first babies who were born in the concentration camp Rab were delivered under tents. The nursery didn't improve the conditions. Chances <span style="font-size: x-small;">of</span> survival for babies born in the camp were close to none. </span></div>
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<span face="Verdana, sans-serif" style="font-size: x-small;">After the war Ms. Košak <span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">made a resea<span style="font-size: x-small;">rch</span></span> whether </span>any babies born on Rab h<span style="font-size: x-small;">a<span style="font-size: x-small;">ve</span></span> survived. She found four Slovene women, one of them was Marija Mohar who died in 2011. Mr. Janež, who was also rese<span style="font-size: x-small;">arching <span style="font-size: x-small;">the issue<span style="font-size: x-small;">,</span></span></span> found nine men. According to a list of internees on Rab created by Mr. Janež, at least 163 children under the age of fifteen died during the internment. </span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Researchers and historians estimate that the annual mortality rate in the Rab camp was higher than the overage mortality rate in the Nazi concentration camp of Buchenwald. </blockquote>
<span face="Verdana, sans-serif" style="font-size: x-small;">Concentration camp on Rab was operating from July 1942 to September 1943.</span><span face="Verdana, sans-serif" style="font-size: x-small;"> </span><br />
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Sasa Petejanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13643610012595657244noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8888260889373781502.post-69400728499407854982013-04-19T08:16:00.002+02:002021-01-08T17:03:15.436+01:00Food parcels for survival<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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We ran into Ms. Ada Rebov in Gonars. "I came to see, where my three brothers were in internment", she said. To visit the location and memorial of a fascist concentration camp in this northeastern Italian town, not far from Venice, it took her an hour and a half long drive from Slovenia.<br />
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During the Italian <a href="http://www.muzej-kampor.croatia-rab.com/hr/knjiga01.pdf" target="_blank">occupation of Ljubljana</a>, her three brothers, Bogomir, Anton and Marjan Javornik, were educated young men. They were arrested in a raid and later deported to a concentration camp in Gonars.</div>
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With the Italian occupation, educated and cultured individuals and intellectuals, no matter their age, became a threat to fascist expansionist policies and its cultural and ethnic assimilation. </blockquote>
Written communication from and to the concentration camp was allowed, as were allowed parcels with food sent to internees. "That's what I was taking care of", Ms. Ada Rebov explained her role as a girl during war time.<br />
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She was searching through streets of Ljubljana, at the time <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Province_of_Ljubljana" target="_blank">an annexed city within a barbed wire fence</a> and under severe control of Italian military. An act of repression turned the actual capital of Slovenia in a camp with controlled and limited exits.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"We barely succeeded. We were allowed to send five kilos. One parcel, each month, to each of them", Ms. Ada Rebov remembered from the period of her brother's internment.</blockquote>
Once in internment, men, women and children suffered hunger, illnesses and poor hygiene. For many of them, parcels - if delivered - granted survival. For some, the sudden intake of received food was fatal.</div>
</div>
Sasa Petejanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13643610012595657244noreply@blogger.comGonars, Province of Udine, Italy45.8937093 13.24853989999996945.849505799999996 13.167858899999969 45.9379128 13.329220899999969tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8888260889373781502.post-64757966039588758462013-04-15T10:49:00.004+02:002013-09-28T17:37:17.493+02:00In search of witnesses<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ie06AIJa9nA/UWu-4emw6yI/AAAAAAAADPQ/S8eytxCHW38/s1600/Fanika_baraga_MJblog2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ie06AIJa9nA/UWu-4emw6yI/AAAAAAAADPQ/S8eytxCHW38/s1600/Fanika_baraga_MJblog2.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small; text-align: center;">© Manca Juvan</span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">The collaborating at Remembering Fascist Camps came as second to my academic research project within <a href="http://www.sicris.si/search/prj.aspx?opt=1&lang=eng&id=7030">Scientific Research Center Of Slovenian Academy of Sciences and Arts</a>. This blog and the upcoming exhibition in September 2013 at the Museum of Contemporary History of Slovenia were a natural development of a "<a href="http://rememberingfascistcamps.blogspot.com/p/contact.html">dream trio</a>" joined forces.</span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Today it is clear to me that I perceive both projects as a call of duty with regard to my ancestors. </blockquote>
<span style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I
grew up with nono Pepi’s (1915-1993) funny and bitter anecdotes
about his interwar period on the island of Sardinia. In 1943 he was "mobilized" along with other young men to be
isolated
from the war events and used as unpaid labor force in such distant
places. While Franci (1927-1991), grandpa on my father’s side, kept
telling me the touching
story of how his father was shot dead as a hostage "by Italians". His
broken,
blood covered corpse was left to his wife and three children to be
buried. Consequently,
the oldest of them freaked out for good. Soon afterwards, only
15-year-old
Franci grabbed his father’s rifle and went to the woods to fight
the
occupiers …</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"> </span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">The idea for the academic research project had been raised from the poor recognition of Italian war crimes in
the international context.</span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Italian occupiers are mostly considered
as indulgent and benevolent, and their concentration camps as mild and
favorably inclined. </blockquote>
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Initially, as a research team, we <span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-align: -webkit-auto;">thought</span> finding internees seven decades after
the tragic events, who would still be sufficiently lucid and open to
share their dreadful stories, would be uneasy. Out of over 40.000 deported and interned Slovenians only
several dozen former internees are believed to be alive nowadays. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Luckily we found a handful of intellectuals, eloquent witnesses, who provided precious, detailed
and well structured testimonies. </span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Some
people refused to cooperate. Their
major argument revealed as persistent internment memories: bursts of
fear, subjection, confinement, homesickness, shame, dehumanization,
recollections of loss, illness, starvation and death. Occasionally, the
internment revives in nightmares. Silence, however,
is also very telling.</span></blockquote>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Later,
to reach as much witnesses as possible, we published a call for
collaboration in various newspapers. Many survivors – to our great
surprise – responded positively. These narrators are mostly outspoken
persons who never publicly revealed their experiences. They represent
the major group of internees, coming predominantly
from rural areas, areas of extreme ethnic cleansing and internment
policies led by Mussolini's Italy. </span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
They were
excited to be given the voice. </blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Their experience turned out
to be of immense importance. Many testimonies revealed also items from
private archives, like photographs, letters, drawings, pictures and
other objects used in the camps. Unexpectedly, such objects give an added
documentary value to the research.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Finally, it is
appropriate to acknowledge that the majority of testimonies expressed
gratitude for the research we conduct. We take the occasion to thank all
and each of them for bravery and willingness to participate through
their experiences to the collective memory of Europe. </span></span></div>
<br />
<br /></div>
Urška Strlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04580954610669472649noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8888260889373781502.post-76946330293167398432013-04-11T09:32:00.001+02:002013-08-03T18:15:48.051+02:00Renicci Oaks<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ie06AIJa9nA/UWu-4emw6yI/AAAAAAAADPQ/S8eytxCHW38/s1600/Fanika_baraga_MJblog2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ie06AIJa9nA/UWu-4emw6yI/AAAAAAAADPQ/S8eytxCHW38/s1600/Fanika_baraga_MJblog2.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small; text-align: center;">© Manca Juvan</span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The collaborating at Remembering Fascist Camps came as second to my academic research project within <a href="http://www.sicris.si/search/prj.aspx?opt=1&lang=eng&id=7030">Scientific Research Center Of Slovenian Academy of Sciences and Arts</a>. This blog and the upcoming exhibition in September 2013 at the Museum of Contemporary History of Slovenia were a natural development of a "<a href="http://rememberingfascistcamps.blogspot.com/p/contact.html">dream trio</a>" joined forces.</span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Today it is clear to me that I perceive both projects as a call of duty with regard to my ancestors. </blockquote>
<span style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I
grew up with nono Pepi’s (1915-1993) funny and bitter anecdotes
about his interwar period on the island of Sardinia. In 1943 he was "mobilized" along with other young men to be
isolated
from the war events and used as unpaid labor force in such distant
places. While Franci (1927-1991), grandpa on my father’s side, kept
telling me the touching
story of how his father was shot dead as a hostage "by Italians". His
broken,
blood covered corpse was left to his wife and three children to be
buried. Consequently,
the oldest of them freaked out for good. Soon afterwards, only
15-year-old
Franci grabbed his father’s rifle and went to the woods to fight
the
occupiers …</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"> </span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The idea for the academic research project had been raised from the poor recognition of Italian war crimes in
the international context.</span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Italian occupiers are mostly considered
as indulgent and benevolent, and their concentration camps as mild and
favorably inclined. </blockquote>
Initially, as a research team, we thought finding internees seven decades after the tragic events, who would still be sufficiently lucid and open to share their dreadful stories, would be uneasy. Out of over 40.000 deported and interned Slovenians only several dozen former internees are believed to be alive nowadays<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Luckily we found a handful of intellectuals, eloquent witnesses, who provided precious, detailed
and well structured testimonies. </span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Some
people refused to cooperate. Their
major argument revealed as persistent internment memories: bursts of
fear, subjection, confinement, homesickness, shame, dehumanization,
recollections of loss, illness, starvation and death. Occasionally, the
internment revives in nightmares. Silence, however,
is also very telling.</span></blockquote>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Later,
to reach as much witnesses as possible, we published a call for
collaboration in various newspapers. Many survivors – to our great
surprise – responded positively. These narrators are mostly outspoken
persons who never publicly revealed their experiences. They represent
the major group of internees, coming predominantly
from rural areas, areas of extreme ethnic cleansing and internment
policies led by Mussolini's Italy. </span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
They were
excited to be given the voice. </blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Their experience turned out
to be of immense importance. Many testimonies revealed also items from
private archives, like photographs, letters, drawings, pictures and
other objects used in the camps. Unexpectedly, such objects give an added
documentary value to the research.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Finally, it is
appropriate to acknowledge that the majority of testimonies expressed
gratitude for the research we conduct. We take the occasion to thank all
and each of them for bravery and willingness to participate through
their experiences to the collective memory of Europe. </span></div>
<br />
<br /></div>
Manca Juvanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04803138780562724910noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8888260889373781502.post-63669817059597870952013-04-09T04:37:00.002+02:002013-04-20T05:13:17.621+02:00Wooden conductor’s baton<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<b id="internal-source-marker_0.9272872691508383" style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"></b><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<b id="internal-source-marker_0.9272872691508383" style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zFk8NAR3W-k/UWN5Uf2qutI/AAAAAAAAAFw/ZqaGeN9YopY/s1600/Stanovnik_SASA_blog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zFk8NAR3W-k/UWN5Uf2qutI/AAAAAAAAAFw/ZqaGeN9YopY/s1600/Stanovnik_SASA_blog.jpg" /></a></b></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b id="internal-source-marker_0.9272872691508383" style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small; font-weight: normal; line-height: 14px; text-align: center;"> </span></b><span style="font-size: x-small; line-height: normal; text-align: center;">© Manca Juvan</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small; line-height: normal; text-align: center;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<b id="internal-source-marker_0.9272872691508383" style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><b id="internal-source-marker_0.9272872691508383"></b></b></div>
On postcards sent from the concentration camp Gonars, Karlo Boštjančič (1915-2003) wrote about conducting the choir and concerts. The existence of a choir named Gonarski zvonček (Small Bell of Gonars) was life saving during times of induced hunger and lice infestation causing rashes or in worst cases epidemic typhus.<br />
<br />
“He told me the baton was made from a broom handle. You can see that this is a broom handle”, Ms. Stanovnik introduced her family heritage. We clearly saw carvings representing slovene ethnic symbols: heart, coronation and wheat plant. At the hendel’s end of a conductor’s baton was a small harp and a metal badge with an inscription: “Gonarski zvonček, to our conductor, companion number 5389, Boštjančič Karl, 4.10.42”.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Mr. Boštjančič’s baton is a unique representation of a cultural life in an italian fascist concentration camp in Gonars.</blockquote>
It is unknown what songs they sang and if they were in Slovene language. “What a pity that testimonies were not more accurate and that I didn’t take notes. You now, when you are young, it just touches you briefly”, Ms. Stanovnik expressed her regret for missing memories.<br />
<br />
Before Italian occupation of Ljubljana, Karlo Bošjančič was developing his academic career as young biology professor and expressed his musical skill level at the Opera. “I know that he was arrested during a rehearsal. Italian officers aligned the artists on the stage. Someone, hiding behind the curtain, was indicating whom should they pick up”, Ms. Stanovnik told about her father’s past. She knows the exact days of his internment. It was June 28, 1942 when he was transported to concentration camp in Gonars and later transferred to Monigo and back to Gonars. He was released from there on June 12, 1943.<br />
<br />
Asking about reasons for her father's interment she answered: “What reasons did they have? They took the students and young intellectuals because they thought they might be unruly and will join the <a href="http://www.resistance-archive.org/en/glossary/L/1008">Liberation Front</a>.” <br />
<div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-weight: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
</div>
Sasa Petejanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13643610012595657244noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8888260889373781502.post-74968753517694603862013-04-03T19:00:00.002+02:002021-01-08T17:03:37.673+01:00Finding a camp location at Visco<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='500' height='320' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/PAx5BAsROvk?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br />
<br />
We walked all around a vast closed area in search of a sign or a memorial saying we are at the former Italian fascist concentration camp site. Instead, in Visco, a small community in Northern Italy, we found walls, fences, barbed wire, gates and bushes keeping us out from what during WW2 was a concentration camp and later a military area.</div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
As much as we tried, we didn't find a memorial place to pay our respects to the victims of this concentration camp, operating between February and September 1943. </blockquote>
During eight months between 4500 to 6000 prisoners, mostly civilians from Slovenia and Croatia, were kept in internment there.<br />
<br />
The concentration camp was a detention center mostly for people belonging to ethnic groups living in territories occupied by Italian army during WW2. Under the rule of fascism civilian inhabitants were displaced from areas today belonging to Slovenia, Croatia, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Serbia, and Montenegro.<br />
<br />
At that point, we find it important to remember that as a result of the mistreatment of civilians interned during WW2, the <a href="http://www.icrc.org/ihl.nsf/INTRO/380" target="_blank">Fourth Geneva Convention</a> was established in 1949, in order to provide for the protection of civilians during times of war. We believe that in times of enormous human development and achievement, we need to remember the basic values of humanity and human responsibility. We should own the <a href="http://www.un.org/en/documents/udhr/" target="_blank">Universal Declaration of Human Rights</a> which restricts the use of internment. Article 9 states that "No one shall be subjected to arbitrary arrest, detention or exile." Enforcing the Declaration of Human Rights, we pay our respects to victims of Italian fascist camps.<br />
<br /></div>
Sasa Petejanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13643610012595657244noreply@blogger.comVisco, Province of Udine, Italy45.8923154 13.34623329999999445.8702119 13.305892799999995 45.9144189 13.386573799999994tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8888260889373781502.post-31957582202855851432013-03-28T22:50:00.000+01:002015-05-05T16:53:34.964+02:00A washed out baby dress<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dqez0SziOwE/UVSVvXm_XWI/AAAAAAAADNs/V4KX7dehCBA/s1600/Fanika_baraga_MJblog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dqez0SziOwE/UVSVvXm_XWI/AAAAAAAADNs/V4KX7dehCBA/s1600/Fanika_baraga_MJblog.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">© Manca Juvan</span></div>
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Fanika Baraga (1920) was a 21-year-old peasant woman when World War II broke out. Italian army occupied her village. During those turbulent times, when her life was at stake, she met a respectful, handsome and intelligent man. They fell in love and got married. Because he was a sympathizer of the partisan movement, he was captured by Italian soldiers and shot as a hostage. It was only 40 days after her wedding day when Fanika became a widow - a pregnant widow.<br />
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A few weeks later Fanika - along with her mother-in-law and her sister-in-law - was arrested. Despite being heavily pregnant she was taken to Gonars concentration camp in cattle wagons in December 1942. She spent several months in detention without knowing why. Living conditions in overcrowded wooden barracks were wretched; starving and benumbed internees were constantly molested by lice and scabies.<br />
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Luckily, Fanika got well along with the majority of women who helped her. At the end of January 1943 she gave birth in an improvised barrack, supposed to be a sickroom. Fortunately nothing went wrong and she had a relatively easy delivery.<span style="font-family: Arial;"> </span></div>
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For Fanika had nothing to wrap her newborn baby, an inmate made a small dress for a little girl out of her clothes. </blockquote>
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Alas, her newborn baby was exhausted already at the birth and died three months later.<br />
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A washed out baby-dress retains Fanika's bitter and touching memories of the hellish camp period. She never remarried nor had children again. The loss of the two she loved was way too painful for her. She dedicated herself to people in need and to God, which according to her own words, gives her shelter and power to withstand the burden of life. Strangely enough, I can't recall to meet a woman of almost 93 years of age – so vital, joyful and warm. </div>
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Urška Strlehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04580954610669472649noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8888260889373781502.post-75093322368256498812013-03-23T20:33:00.002+01:002021-01-08T17:03:55.037+01:00Historic context <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><span style="background-color: #f9f9f9; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">This map shows only the western portion of the former Kingdom of Yugoslavia - currently known as Republic of Slovenia - and its divisions between the Axis Powers. </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #f9f9f9; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">Gray stripes: Fascist Italy occupied territory, known as The </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Province of Ljubljana</span><span style="background-color: #f9f9f9; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">; </span><span style="background-color: #f9f9f9; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">Brown: Nazi Germany occupied territory; Green: Hungary </span><span style="background-color: #f9f9f9; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">occupied territory; Black: A</span><span style="background-color: #f9f9f9; line-height: 19px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">rea already annexed by Italy with the Treaty of Rapallo</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On April 6, 1941 when the Axis Powers invaded the <a href="http://www.ushmm.org/wlc/en/media_nm.php?ModuleId=10005456&MediaId=2120">Kingdom of Yugoslavia</a>, the Slavic union was largely occupied by Nazi Germany and the Kingdom of Italy, while smaller territories were occupied by Hungary and the Independent State of Croatia. In the process of annexing this territories to their parent land, the various occupiers imposed racial laws, conducted ethnic cleansing, and forced cultural assimilation.<br /><br />Our research is limited to Slovene territories under Italian rule from 1941 to 1943, which was then renamed as the Province of Ljubljana. An estimated twenty-five thousand people, or 7.5 percent of the total population, were deported during the duration of this occupation. Villages were destroyed, houses were burnt, and people were interned in concentration camps, such as Rab, Gonars, Monigo (Treviso), Renicci d'Anghiari, Chiesanuova and elsewhere.</span></div>
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Our human concern compels us to document what has happened to our ancestors.</blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">By the atrocious standards of the Second World War, the Italian concentration camps may be perceived as only a footnote of evil. We do not attempt to measure that evil. We intend to memorialize </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Italian war crimes that have not been fully investigated until now. There were no trials of Italian war criminals, such as there were for the Germans and Japanese. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We are recording testimonials of survivors to document these atrocities. By doing so, we are creating a missing context of Italy's concentration camps in the annals of Western European history. </span></div>
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Sasa Petejanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13643610012595657244noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8888260889373781502.post-45912362089176212272013-03-21T20:38:00.001+01:002013-09-03T15:17:29.600+02:00A Pink Cap<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q87STmrlvA8/UUtj9fJAxTI/AAAAAAAAAgM/6VuQv4ubxgI/s1600/bmtBlog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-center: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q87STmrlvA8/UUtj9fJAxTI/AAAAAAAAAgM/6VuQv4ubxgI/s1600/bmtBlog.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Manca Juvan</td></tr>
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"This is part of my identity," Barbara Miklič Türk said while holding a pink knitted cap in her hands.</blockquote>
On this well preserved historic object, made by her mother during her internment in Italian fascist concentration camp in Gonars (Italy), are embroidered names of inmates and years of internment "42 - 43", meaning years 1942 and 1943.<br />
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In Ms. Miklič Türk's hands was a material representation of events that happened 70 years ago, when Kingdom of Italy occupied half of the territory of Kingdom of Yugoslavia, and when an estimated 7.5% of Slovene population was displaced to Italian fascist camps.<br />
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Italy wanted the occupied territory, not its inhabitants. In internment they were referred to as <i>alogeni</i>, an Italian word used to describe a less than human. </blockquote>
Barbara Miklič Türk, wife of the former Slovene president, who has served for majority of his career in the United Nations, has been carrying this cap along with her wherever they lived. On occasions she spoke of historic events and remembered her mother's and her maternal grandparents' internment. Her memories often evoked surprise as listeners discovered the very existence of Italian fascist concentration camps.<br />
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In the years 2008-2011, during several encounters with Italian President Giorgio Napolitano and Mrs. Napolitano, President Dr. Danilo Türk and his wife Barbara Miklič Türk spoke about the tragic experience of Slovene and other internees in the Camp of Gonars. These conversations helped raising sensitivity for this aspect of history in Italy.<br />
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In the year 2011, at the invitation of the Major of Gonars Marino Del Frata she attended the <a href="http://www2.gov.si/up-rs/2007-2012/bmt-arhiv.nsf/dokumentiweb/C23B01FE788669EFC1257A4C004A1743?OpenDocument" target="_blank">commemoration of the victims of the Gonars camp</a>. The ceremony was attend by Slovene state representatives, representatives of the Slovene minority in Italy and combatants association, and the delegation of the Republic of Croatia. In her speech she expressed respect for the victims and remembered the tragedies of fascism and the World War II.<br />
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For Ms. Miklič Türk everyone has a right for her pain to be respected. </blockquote>
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In Ms. Miklič Türk's perspective it is important to spread the awareness about this specific period in European history. We need to remember and make our best to prevent something similar to occur again. Her memories serve as ambassadors keeping the experience of a period of suffering, terror and destruction in Europe and in the Balkans present. </div>
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Manca Juvanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04803138780562724910noreply@blogger.com0Ljubljana, Slovenia46.056450899999987 14.5080702000000245.880175399999985 14.18534670000002 46.23272639999999 14.830793700000021