The following pieces are from the diary of Mafalda Codan who was arrested in Trieste, where he had taken refuge, in early May 1945.
His father and uncles of the young woman, merchants and landowners, had been arrested and infoibati in Istria in the fall of 1943.
taken from Foibe: 60 years of silence
The May 7, 1945 [...] I take a book and go to the garden. I'm just out in front of three partisans led by Nino Stoinich with machine guns. First of all, welcome the horrible death of my loved ones and then I was told to follow them. Dressed as they are, or without being able to enter the house nor greet mum, I have to follow them. With a piece of wire I bind your hands behind your back and make me into a car .[...] First stop, Vižinada. I take the square crowded with people, partisans, women rowdy, shouting, gesturing, cursing. S. introduces me as an Italian, an enemy of the Slav people, the daughter of an exploiter of the poor, everyone starts to insult me, spitting at, hitting me with long sticks and shouting: death, death. [...] Sunday in Santa bring me before the house of Norma Cossetto, infoibata in September 1943, called his mother, I want to attend my torture commemorates the martyrdom of his rule. The woman, despite le severe intimazioni, si rifiuta di uscire, la trascinano a forza sulla porta e, appena mi vede in quelle condizioni, cade a terra svenuta. [...]
Siamo arrivati davanti a casa mia. [...] Si raduna subito una folla scalmanata e urlante: il tribunale del popolo. Stoinich tira fuori un foglio e comincia a leggere le accuse: infondate, non vere, testimonianze false, imposte. Vedo i miei coloni e molte persone aiutate e mantenute gratis da mio padre. Non posso credere ai miei occhi, sono gli stessi che prima "veneravano" la mia famiglia e si consideravano amici, ora sono qui per condannarmi e gridare "a morte". Sono diventati tutti un gregge di pecore, fanno ciò che è stato loro imposto di fare, ora seguono chi comanda, chi promette loro la spartizione delle terre dei padroni. Non posso stare zitta, urlo anch'io, non posso puntare il dito contro quelle bestie mostruose solamente perché ho le mani legate, li chiamo allora per nome, li accuso della morte dei miei cari, dei furti commessi, dei soprusi, dei debiti mai pagati... e da accusata divento accusatrice. [...] Nell'ex dopolavoro mi attendono tre donne. Mi legano a una colonna in mezzo alla sala, a sinistra e a destra mi mettono due bandiere slave con la stella rossa e sopra la testa il ritratto di Tito. È un druze grande e grosso che dà il via al pestaggio. Con tutta la sua forza comincia a percuotermi con una cinghia. Mi colpisce così forte sugli occhi che noti riesco più a riaprirli. I'm sorry because I always had the courage to set eyes who beat me. The abuse continued, the women strike me with big sticks, with pliers trying to take off my nails but can not because they are too short. A rowdy, a spoon with me scratching my eyelids swollen and closed wounds, "Open your eyes that you get up there," she cries. [...] Later I shall go around the country linked to a chain like a bear, I followed a crowd of kids had fun. [...] Comes a wagon, I drive up, make the horse run and I have to stand. The constant shock and make me fall every time I get up a shot with machine guns. In those conditions around different countries. [...] Porec lead me in the yard of the Castle hours barracks, where men gathered. [...] What he rails against me is furious Ziri, my ex-farmer who has been so good to my father. He says he is happy to see me in those conditions and hopes that the whole family is destroyed for him the master of our fields.
[The Castle of Pazin] Every night, a dark and grim-faced partisan, enter cells and exit with someone who will never return. When the torchlight seeking the names on the sheet, all eyes are attached to his mouth and a sudden chill us through the body. The screams of pain from Arnaldo [the seventeen year old brother, detained and tortured in the same prison] and his other companions otherwise I resonate painfully in my head day and night. [...] One night the door opens and immediately I'm struck terror, this time on the sheet there is also my name. [...] I come linked arm in arm with a young child. Lead us in the courtyard of the castle where we face two trucks already loaded with prisoners, with the engines running. We charge on the second, close the banks and is given orders to leave. At that moment an officer comes running with a sheet in his hand and shouts: "Halt! Mafalda Codan down." I feel faint, I tremble all over [...]. The chief took me by the arm, he takes me in a small house opposite the prison, puts me in a dark room and shut myself up inside. [...] In the morning, the torturers back happy to have killed so many enemies of the people. They were all massacred. One goes into my new "home" and asks, "How old was your brother?" He did not want to die you know, even after death his body continued to jump [...].
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