A memorial event was held in Italy on October 11 to commemorate the victims of the 1940 sinking of the Arandora Star, a British passenger ship torpedoed by a German U-boat while transporting internees from Britain to Canada during World War II. The annual observance marks the date in 2013 when the last survivor of the tragedy passed away.
The Arandora Star had been carrying 1,600 people, including 707 Italian men who had been classified as enemy aliens following Italy’s entry into the war alongside Germany. These individuals, many of whom had lived in the United Kingdom for years—some with British-born children or serving in the military—were arrested and slated for internment in Canada. Packed onto the ship in Liverpool, the vessel sailed without adequate lifeboats and was not marked as a civilian or hospital ship, making it vulnerable to attack.
On July 2, 1940, the ship was struck off the Irish coast by a German torpedo and sank within 38 minutes, resulting in approximately 780 deaths, including 446 Italians along with German and Austrian internees and British crew members. Survivors recounted harrowing scenes as oil slicks spread across the water and panic ensued amid the lack of rescue provisions.
Among those lost was Guido Conti, a well-known Italian café owner in Newport, South Wales. Although he initially survived by clinging to debris, he ultimately relinquished his hold to aid another and drowned. His nephew, Giuseppe Conti, who heads an association dedicated to preserving the memory of the sinking, noted that the disaster went largely unreported at the time. British press accounts focused on internees allegedly fighting over lifeboats, while Italian newspapers showed little interest, uncomfortable with the involvement of their wartime ally Germany. Postwar, the victims were excluded from Italy’s official war dead, deepening the sense of neglect attached to the tragedy.
Italian parliamentarian Enzo Amich has played a key role in securing official recognition for the victims through legislation establishing the national memorial day. Amich emphasized the historical oversight, asking how Italy’s largest maritime disaster could have been ignored for so long. He called for acknowledgment without recrimination, reflecting a desire to confront history rather than assign blame.
Other survivors, such as Uberto Limentani, a Jewish lawyer barred from practicing in fascist Italy and employed by the BBC’s Italian service, endured the ordeal despite having been cleared by British intelligence. Limentani survived the torpedoing and later recounted the rescue efforts, yet few contemporary reports detailed the incident. His son, Rupert Limentani, recalled how the BBC remained largely silent afterward.
Memorial efforts have gradually emerged over the years, including plaques in London’s St Peter’s Church and monuments in Glasgow, Cardiff, and the Scottish island of Colonsay, where some victims’ bodies were found. Research by writer Maria Serena Balestracci, who discovered victims’ graves in Tuscany, has further brought the story to light. She noted that postwar stigma and fears of association with fascism initially suppressed public discussion of the internments and sinking.
Relatives of victims and survivors gathered at the Italian parliament to view a documentary recounting the disaster, underscoring the challenges of preserving wartime memories. The event reflects a broader recognition of the need to include such episodes in historical scholarship, ensuring that those affected are no longer forgotten.