Call Me Joe: The Secret World War II Diary of Nello Camilli

Call Me Joe

The Secret World War II Diary of

Nello Camilli

Edited and Additional Chapters by

Gloria Camilli

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2014 Gloria Camilli

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please do so through proper retail channels. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. To obtain permission to excerpt portions of the text, please contact the author at gloriaonline@live.com.

DEDICATION

For the men and women who have served or are currently serving in the United States Military, we are humbled by your service and sacrifice.

And for the next generations of Joe’s family, including another Joe who is currently serving in the United States Navy.

CONTENTS

Introduction

Book One (February-April, 1943)

Book Two (May-June, 1943)

Book Three (July-August, 1943)

Book Four (September-October, 1943)

Book Five (November-December, 1943)

Book Six (January-March, 1944)

Book Seven (April-June, 1944)

Book Eight (July-August, 1944)

Book Nine (September, 1944-September 1945)

The Trip Home

Afterword

Notes and Discussion Topics for Reading Groups

INTRODUCTION

By Gloria Camilli

Luigi and Zaira Camilli left the Pesaro, Italy area in late 1920. Both were from farming families, and they were lured to America by the dream of making a better life for themselves and their future children. Zaira was expecting their first child, Nello, when they crossed the Atlantic Ocean by boat and arrived in Boston, Massachusetts on October 17, 1920.

Although they only had ten dollars with which to start their lives in America, they had the benefit of knowing a cousin who lived in Chicago. After making their way to Chicago, Luigi and Zaira stayed with the cousin until they found jobs and could afford their own apartment.

Their first child, Nello Camilli, was born March 12, 1921. Since Luigi and Zaira lived in the Italian neighborhood in Chicago and worked mostly with Italian speaking immigrants, they had little chance to learn English. As a result, Nello learned to speak Italian as his first language. It wasn’t until Nello began school that he learned English, returning home each day to teach his parents a few new words.

Nello attended Catholic school until he was enrolled in ninth grade at Lane Tech High School on Chicago’s north side. It was during his first year of high school that other students began making fun of his name. They would continually find ways to annoy him with strings of phrases like, Hello, Nello. Feeling mellow, Nello? You look a little yellow, Nello. From this point on, when Nello was asked his name he would say, Call me Joe.

After two years of high school, Joe left Lane Tech to get a job and help contribute to his family’s income. He found a job working in a smoking pipe factory. Like any eager new worker, he was assembling pipes with great speed and gusto on his first day of work. An older worker next to him advised him saying, Slow down, kid. If you do so many too quickly, they’ll expect all of us to get as many done. Joe remained at the pipe factory for five years.

In 1942, with so many men going off to fight in World War II, Joe wanted to do his part to contribute to the war effort. He and Fred Barbeau, his good friend since childhood, went to the Army Recruiting Office near their homes. Fred had graduated from high school, but when the recruiter found out that Joe had only completed two years of high school, he told Joe he would not take him unless he passed the G.E.D. exam. Begrudgingly, Joe studied for the exam.

After Joe passed the G.E.D. exam, he and Fred returned to the Army Recruiting Office to officially enlist. They wanted to make sure they would be together during their time in the Army, and the recruiter guaranteed they would be together throughout the war.

Joe’s and Fred’s official Army Air Corps enlistment dates are the same: August 4, 1942. They left Chicago and went to boot camp at Fort Campbell, where they were kept together the whole time. While at boot camp, Joe found out that other soldiers were not required to take the G.E.D exam. At the time, he was very angry that the recruiter had made him do extra work in order to enlist.

After boot camp, Joe and Fred were stationed at Mitchel Field in New York. In February, 1943, Joe and Fred received orders to go to separate units. Fred would end up in Burma, while Joe was headed for Africa. They were very upset they had been lied to and would not be fighting for their country side by side.

Just prior to his deployment to Africa, Joe’s parents traveled to New York to see him off. It was Joe’s hope that he would eventually get to Italy, his parents’ homeland, and have an opportunity to meet his grandparents, aunts and uncles, who still lived in the Pesaro area.

During World War II, United States military regulations prohibited servicemen from keeping personal diaries and journals. After Joe’s death in 1995, nine U.S. Army Signal Corps message books were found among his belongings. He had used these books as his diary during his time overseas during World War II. There is no doubt that Joe knew he was breaking the rules by keeping a diary. In the first book, he began writing on the last 30 pages of the book. It can be presumed that he was keeping his diary secret and wanted to make sure the book appeared to be empty if anyone found it. After approximately a month of writing, he then returned to the front of the book to continue his diary. By this point, he realized that his personal belongings were not being checked and was not worried the diary would be discovered.

Through his diary, we get a firsthand account of what Joe experienced while overseas during the war. There are accounts of the movements of the troops and battles being fought, but between the lines we also get a glimpse of a young man’s homesickness, fear and humanity. We have an opportunity to see the war and the places he was stationed through the eyes of a regular enlisted man in his early twenties.

The diary begins toward the end of Joe’s voyage on the U.S.A.T. (United States Army Transfer) ship from the United States to Oran, Algeria.

BOOK ONE

FEBRUARY-APRIL, 1943

Saturday, February 20, 1943

We went through the Strait of Gibraltar at about eleven o’clock this morning. We are now on the Mediterranean Sea, and the water is very calm. It’s a wonder we don’t see any subs. This is the place that’s supposed to be full of them. We heard a big cannon shot over our bow. All of us got scared. We thought it was the Germans firing at us, but we found out it was the English firing a salute. Our boat is heading for Oran. We ought to be there by morning. I’m going to use these books for my diary from now on.

Sunday, February 21, 1943

Today was our big day. We arrived at the Port of Oran at about ten o’clock, and in the harbor you can see French boats and houses in the distance. There are also British destroyers in the harbor. There doesn’t seem to be much around. We got off the boat about one o’clock in the afternoon, and we walked into the small harbor town. From there the trucks took us to the Oran railroad station, and we waited until 7:30 in the evening for our train. Everybody said we were going toward Algiers, but when we got off the train at 9:30 this evening, I knew it wasn’t Algiers. This place is just the outskirts of some small town. After we got off the train, we walked seven miles with our field packs on our backs. When we got here we saw big tents, and we thought we were going to sleep in them. To our surprise, we had to pitch our own pup tents, and the ground was covered with mud. It was about one in the morning, so my buddy and I decided to sleep right on the canvas instead of putting up the tent.

Monday, February 22, 1943

It looks like we’re going to stay here for a few days. We had our first cooked meal on African soil. This place is just a push out center. The weather here is like Wisconsin; it’s warm in the daytime and very cold at night. Right now I’d say it’s about 85 degrees, and the sun is shining. You people back home are freezing while I’m getting a tan. The sun is dangerous around here. You can’t trust it. Some of the boys got their backs burned. Everybody looks forward to the night when it’s usually cool.

Tuesday, February 23, 1943

I pulled guard duty from two until seven this morning. After sleeping a few hours, I got up at 10:30. This afternoon we went on a nine mile hike. When we came back from the hike they had a surprise for us. They had a shower fixed up for us. It was the first time I took a bath since I left Mitchel Field, and that was about 18 days ago.

Wednesday, February 24, 1943

This morning I got up at seven so I was in time for breakfast. I had some ham and eggs right from the can. Everything around here is from the can. We did a little drilling this afternoon. Also, one of the boys claims he has some film, so I’m going to try to take some pictures of this place. This place looks like a green valley with beautiful mountains around it. I wish I knew how long we’ll be here.

Thursday, February 25, 1943

We have had a lot of rain lately. It’s the rainy season here in Africa. We went on a hike this afternoon and got all wet. It’s been raining all day. I’m hoping for a little sunshine tomorrow. Everything gets damp around here. I almost got a pass to go into Oran yesterday, but I had to go on duty. I’ll be on duty until Friday. I should get a pass this Saturday. I’m going to try for it.

Friday, February 26, 1943

I am on guard this afternoon and should be off soon. We’ve been getting butter lately. It’s put in the can by the Kraft people; butter is one thing I never expected to see around here. One of the boys claims he heard cannon fire from the front lines last night. We aren’t very far from the front lines. The nights seem to be getting colder all the time. They’re changing the guard system all around again. That might mean I won’t get my pass tomorrow.

Saturday, February 27, 1943

I knew I’d get to go to town after all! The city of Oran is very big, and they have some beautiful buildings in this town. I’d say the population is about eighty thousand including the natives. The natives run around the street with their shoes off all the time. I was over at the American Red Cross building. They have a theatre there. They show two movies a day, one in the afternoon and one in the evening. You can also get a meal ticket there. It costs 15 francs (or 30 cents in American money). The money problem is a little confusing until you get on to it. It’s just double in our money. After you get your meal ticket, you go to a restaurant up the street and get your meal. It’s Army chow, only camouflaged. We also went to confession. The hardest thing to do is get transportation to and from our camp. We’re about 20 miles from town. Every time a soldier comes back from Oran, he swears he’ll never go there again, but as soon as he gets his pass he’s off to Oran. There’s nothing else to do in camp, so why not go to town?

Sunday, February 28, 1943

Last night the boys said something about moving, but I thought they were kidding. It seems that we always move on Sundays. What a day. We were supposed to leave at 10:30 this morning but didn’t leave until this afternoon. The place we moved to is called Es Senia Airfield. It’s all French barracks. This place was riddled with bullets. The hangars have holes in them big enough to drive a car through. They left the hangars in a big mess. We also had our supper. This makes the second time I’ve eaten on a table since we left New York. The food here is a little better than the food we ate at Mud Hill. They have a lot of room to cook inside. We are attached to the 3rd Fighter Command for chow, and I hope that’s all. They have a different APO number. Tonight they put me on guard in the hangar, and it’s as dark as the inside of a closet. I don’t know how long I will be at Es Senia.

Monday, March 1, 1943

I got back from the hangar this morning, and I got a pass to go into town. I’ve been looking around town for jewelry. They claim Africa has a lot of stones, but after looking around I think the Germans took everything when they left here. Oran is the place everybody heard of back home when they had the big fight in the harbor to get the town. I had a hard time getting a ride back to the airfield tonight. I waited for a ride from 7:45 until 9:00. We have to be out of the town by 10:00 or get thrown in the jail. We might be here a month.

Tuesday, March 2, 1943

I’m beginning to get used to this pup tent life. (Or should I say my back is getting used to it?) This afternoon we played a little baseball. Then I had a cold shower under a hose. This evening I went to the base theatre and saw a stage show put on by the soldiers. That was the best and longest stage show I’ve seen so