This is part two of an article about two unpublished letters written by Nerik Mizzi while in Africa during the 1940s to the Governor of Malta. Read the first part here.

Just before leaving Grand Harbour, a British army captain, described by Albert Gauci as “nofs karawetta b’ħafna stillel” (half a peanut with plenty of stars, meaning pips) and a navy officer, addressed the deportees in the hold.

He opened by stating that “though not in sympathy with us he had decided to treat us with fairness”. He invited them to wear a lifebelt but warned them that in case of ‘abandon ship’ no lifeboats would be available for the deportees but only rafts. The naval officer then threw in a chilling threat: “Anyone attempting to rush to the lifeboats would be shot.”

This warning shocked all the detainees, particularly those “who – as in my case – are unable to swim”. Proudly, Mizzi adds “nobody, however, lost his calm behaviour and all were able to keep a tranquil and sure countenance”.

Mizzi then describes in some detail the punishing almost three-day crossing to Cairo. The convoy of which the Breconshire formed part was escorted by several warships: “…all along the voyage our ship and our convoy were persistently attacked by aircraft and submarines”. The internees, locked up in the hold, had no way of knowing the loss of lives and ships suffered by another British convoy going the other direction, which, at that time, had joined them.

Prime Minister Enrico Mizzi (left) exiting St John's Co-Cathedral after the inaugural Mass held on his election. To his right, George Borg Olivier. Photo: Author's CollectionPrime Minister Enrico Mizzi (left) exiting St John's Co-Cathedral after the inaugural Mass held on his election. To his right, George Borg Olivier. Photo: Author's Collection

On arrival in Alexandria, they read in the Egyptian Mail of February 19 that the action during the crossing had been “one of the fiercest battles fought in the Mediterranean”. It was only by a miracle that Breconshire had slipped through unharmed. She survived unscathed the infernal blitz, only to be hit and sunk in Malta on a return journey, on March 27.

A memorial card, issued one month after Mizzi’s death. Photo: Author's CollectionA memorial card, issued one month after Mizzi’s death. Photo: Author's Collection

Again, Mizzi cannot conceal his pride at the dignified behaviour of all the deportees penned in the ship’s hold. “Even at the most critical moments of the battle, the morale of all the deportees was always very high, thanks to the help of Divine Providence. They gave a magnificent proof of calm and courage, keeping serene and self-confident”.

Their behaviour was admired even by their British army escort “who after having known us personally commenced to feel for us a much less hostile sentiment than the antipathy which he had previously shown us with such a praiseworthy frankness”.

Deafening explosions rocked the Breconshire, both from the ship’s own guns and from the bombs detonating all around her. Mizzi, on the way to deafness, only heard the more violent ones. He singled out “the magnificent proof of courage, calm and affection shown, even in the most tragic moments, by Lady Mercieca and her daughter. During the whole battle they remained in the ship’s hold with us, at Sir Arturo’s side, and their tranquil behaviour helped in maintaining the others calm, inspiring faith and courage in all”.

Members of the judiciary and of the legal professions in the funeral cortège of Mizzi. Photo: Author's CollectionMembers of the judiciary and of the legal professions in the funeral cortège of Mizzi. Photo: Author's Collection

They gave a magnificent proof of calm and courage, keeping serene and self-confident

Mgr Pantalleresco too comes in for special mention – his constant spiritual ministrations serving “to reinforce our complete faith in the help of God”.

On landing in Alexandria on February 16, military trucks took the exiles to the railway station. They boarded a train for Cairo where they lodged in the Citadel. Mizzi’s unfailing sense of fairness prompts him to praise the kindness and good manners of the officers and soldiers – mostly Dominion troops, Maoris and New Zealanders who they came across on the ship, in Alexandria and Cairo. They were “all animated by the good wish of rendering our life, as far as possible, less unhappy and uncomfortable”.

Exhibition of Enrico Mizzi memorabilia, held at Castille in 2010, the 60th anniversary of his death.Exhibition of Enrico Mizzi memorabilia, held at Castille in 2010, the 60th anniversary of his death.

In the Cairo barracks, they had to sleep on mattresses on the floor. Again, a testimonial to Mizzi’s fairness: “The officer in charge has succeeded in improving for all the quantity of the rations” and in procuring for Mercieca, Pantalleresco and Mizzi “three little wooden beds with a better-conditioned mattress”. They would soon be leaving for Uganda where their treatment, Mizzi believed, would depend “on the instructions imparted by Your Excellency”.

The long, and here abridged, letter ends with four recommendations: that every exile be provided with an identity card, showing the reason for his deportation; that eventual future deportees be better treated on board and their lives and safety be better protected; that those deported not for crimes but as a precautionary measure be not subjected to harsher restrictions than absolutely necessary; and that those who, for health reasons, required special diets, be provided with it.

Here, Mizzi remarks that the deportees were not allowed to take more than £10 with them and that an allowance should be granted to the exiles. But, in typical Mizzi style, the penniless politician hastens to make clear: “I have never asked, nor intend to ask, for me or for my family, any financial help from the government but if my condition as a deportee will, at any time, compel me to accept such a help, I declare that I shall accept it with the reservation and promise to pay it back as soon as conditions will allow me to, with the highest interests allowed by law.”

The last farewell by Bice, Mizzi’s widow. Photo: Author's CollectionThe last farewell by Bice, Mizzi’s widow. Photo: Author's Collection

Unbelievable.

The statesman’s only slip into sarcasm may be his closing paragraph: “Asking Your Excellency to excuse the inevitable length of this letter and thanking Your Excellency in advance for all that Your Excellency will do to alleviate the sorrowful situation of the deportees, I remain Your Excellency’s most obedient servant, Enrico Mizzi”. Four ‘Your Excellency’ in three lines may have meant more than a show of respect.

I may deal with the second letter, sent by Mizzi from Bombo on April 16, 1942, which recounts, vividly and in detail, the deportees’ voyage from Cairo to Mongalla, in Sudan, on another occasion. This is preserved in File CSG 01/3114/1942 at the National Archives.

The author thanks Leonard Callus, Anthony Mifsud, Richard Muscat, the National Archives and the Fortunato and Enrico Mizzi Foundation for their unswerving assistance.

Leading British military officers rendering homage during Mizzi’s funeral. Photo courtesy of the Fortunato and Enrico Mizzi FoundationLeading British military officers rendering homage during Mizzi’s funeral. Photo courtesy of the Fortunato and Enrico Mizzi Foundation

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