This is an English translation of a book that came out in Italy in 2015. Hence, one suspects, the rather nebulous subtitle which may have lost its original meaning. It covers the Italian side of the story about the hunt for Zerzura, the mythical rainwater oasis in the Gilf Kebir in the south-west corner of Egypt, which so fascinated British, Hungarian, Italian and German explorers in the early 1930s. The ‘hunt’ was, of course, driven by great power tensions between Britain and Italy over the ownership of the Sarra Triangle, a sliver of territory on the borders of the Anglo-Egyptian Sudan, Italian Libya and French Equatorial Africa. This explains why the ‘explorers’, mostly military officers, were keen to map the routes and wells across the desert and especially around Jabal ‘Uweinat and the Sarra Well, and to keep tabs on each other. What has been missing, until now, is an accurate account of Italian activities in this part of the desert in the critical period before the cession of the Sarra Triangle to Italy in 1934. Roberto Chiarvetto and his colleagues have combed the Italian archives for the pertinent documents, maps and photographs, and tracked down mementos of the men involved, which often still lie with their proud families, to give us a fascinating look at the carefully planned Italian official response to the forays by successive parties of mainly British explorers into the Gilf Kebir, Jabal ‘Uweinat and the Sarra Triangle. They have also ‘walked the ground’ and taken photographs of the places visited by the Italian military and found the traces they left in the sand (including two plane wrecks).

In the preface Generale Ispettore Di Martino draws particular attention to the tactical and operational importance of the air–land co-operation embodied in one unit, namely the Italian Auto-Sahariana company, which had been instrumental in the final conquest of Kufra in 1931 and the ending of the Sanusi insurgency. It was this unit that not only tracked the movements of the British explorers across the desert in 1931–1932 but ten years later, in 1941, thwarted a British attack by the Long Range Desert Group (LRDG) on Kufra. In a twist of fate, Pat Clayton, who led the patrol and had been involved in the earlier explorations, was captured in this action (written about by Roberto Chiarvetto in his earlier book Incident at Jebel Sharif, 2009).

Doubts always existed in the minds of such experts as Dr John Ball, the head of the Egyptian Desert Surveys, Ralph Bagnold, the leading British desert explorer and later founder of the LRDG, and the commander of the Italian garrison at Kufra, Major Ottavio Rolle, as to the existence of the lost oasis of Zerzura. This stemmed from their analysis of the water levels and flow in the Libyan Desert. But enough doubt existed as to whether there might be a periodic rainwater oasis in the Gilf Kebir to spur on these men and their fellow explorers to look for it in the various wadis of that great sandstone plateau. Yet Rolle had doubts about the scientific purpose of the first Bagnold expedition in the autumn of 1932 and thought their search for water was related to gathering information to help future negotiations in the territorial dispute between Britain and Italy. His suspicions were aroused by their all being British Army officers. He therefore made sure he met them when they arrived at the Italian post at ‘Ain Doua, one of the springs at Jabal ‘Uweinat. This book shows the Italian commander in Cyrenaica, Rodolpho Graziani, had ordered Rolle and Major Lorenzini to garrison respectively the wells at ‘Ain Doua and Matten-Sarra. They were supported by Colonel Roberto Lordi, who tracked Bagnold's party from the air. Chiarvetto makes much of the political symbolism of Lorenzini hosting his visitors, Bagnold and Co., with roast chicken and chianti in ‘Italian’ territory at Sarra Well, although it was to another two years before it was recognised as such by treaty. The loquacious Lorenzini spoke openly about Italy's desire for further territorial expansion into French territory around Lake Chad, though it is hard to believe Bagnold agreed with him. He teased Bagnold with the threat of taking an Italian Auto-Sahariana company across the desert to Wadi Halfa in the event of war between Britain and Italy, which Bagnold was later to recall when he set up the LRDG.

Chiarvetto and his fellow authors have tracked down all the documents and photographs relating to Rolle's incursion into Egyptian territory in November 1932 to explore the Gilf Kebir, to pre-empt an intended expedition by the Hungarian explorer Ladislaus Almasy. Although two aircraft flew over and photographed the Wadi Abd el-Malik (one of three wadis that Almasy suspected comprised the Zerzura oasis), Rolle could not find a way into the Gilf. The Italians seem to have been bemused by the comings and goings of two British expeditions to the Gilf in the winter of 1932–1933 by Pat Clayton and Dorothy Clayton-East-Clayton (the widow of a Zerzura explorer) and Almasy and Wing-Commander Hubert Penderel. Graziani believed that Lady Clayton-East-Clayton was up to no good. Italian suspicions, or those of Colonel Lordi, had been aroused, when she landed in Benghasi, having flown across the Mediterranean in her Gypsy Moth. Apparently she then announced that she intended to make her way to Jabal ‘Uweinat and her companion, Dicky Roundell, looked nervous at the prospect. It is not clear whether that was because he had feared for her as a novice flyer in dangerous desert conditions or because of the tricky political situation. The Italians seem to have suspected she was a spy. Eventually when she made it to the Gilf, with Pat Clayton in one of Bagnold's old Fords, she visited Kufra for water but asked her Arab servants to question the locals about conditions under Italian rule and Jabal ‘Uweinat. Apparently, the Italians returned the compliment, asking her servants about her activities. Rolle made sure one of his officers, Lieutenant Fabri, escorted her part of the way back to the Gilf, while two Italian aircraft tracked her from the air. One of these came down in the desert and had to be abandoned (its wreck can still be seen).

While there is much in this book which fills out the picture of Italian activities in this critical period in the desert, there are some gaps in the coverage. The authors do not cast any light on whether Fabri accompanied Almasy to Bir Messaha, a key well on the Selima sand flat en route to Wadi Halfa. Certainly Fabri sought permission from the Cyrenaica high command in Benghasi. If the answer was ‘no’ where is the documentary evidence for it? Another unanswered question is whether the Marchesi land survey expedition in 1933 made a 100 mile incursion south-south-east of ‘Uweinat towards Merga in the Sudan, where the bandit Guraan were based. There is evidence for it from the British documents but it would be useful to have the Italian side. Lastly, more is needed on Rolle's mission to ‘Ain Doua in September 1933. This followed the British Royal Air Force reconnaissance flight over ‘Uweinat and Sarra Well and the establishment of the Sudan Defence Force post at Karkur Murr during the Anglo-Italian stand-off at the Jabal in the winter of 1933–1934.

It is fitting that the dour Rolle should be in the joint Anglo-Italian commission that demarcated the Libyan-Sudan boundary in early September 1934 (there are photographs of this event in the book and I have a framed copy of them on my wall, generously given to me by a relative of Shirley Strong, the former stalwart of the Society of Libyan Studies). The book ends with potted biographies of the main Italian protagonists in the Zerzura story. Whereas Rolle survived the Second World War and became a general (there is a photograph of him with old Alpini comrades from the First World War on a mountain peak where they had fought the Austrians), Lorenzini, dubbed ‘the lion of the desert’ by his Eritrean askari, died leading his men into battle at Keren in 1941. Lordi joined the Italian resistance against the Germans and was shot by them in the massacre of the Ardeatine Caves on 24 March 1944. He died shouting ‘Viva Italia!’