Ever smiling, cheerful and an extremely pleasant character. This is how I remember my Physics and Geometry teacher Fr Maurice Naudi way back in the mid-1950s.

As he had been an old boy of St Aloysius’ College, Naudi was entrusted with various jobs besides teaching: prefect, scout chaplain, house minister, prefect of discipline, bursar, spiritual father, sports teacher and the college’s principal photographer. In fact, his great interest in photography knew no bounds. He was responsible for taking a photo of each and every student to have it inserted in the College annual printed the next scholastic year.

A native of Floriana, Naudi was a student and a boy scout at St Aloysius College from 1924 to 1930, and during this time he resolved that his vocation was to become a Jesuit. He entered the Jesuit novitiate at Bagheria, Sicily, on September 19, 1930 at 16 years of age. After having completed his studies in Philosophy at Catania, he was sent to Malta in 1937 to teach and act as perfect.

But since war clouds began to gather ominously over Europe, he could not return to Sicily to start his studies in Theology. However, together with Joseph Bernard, another enthusiastic Jesuit student, they started studying Theology on their own under the tutorship of Fr Albert Busuttil SJ. It was a very hectic time for the two Jesuits, teaching, acting as prefect, and studying.

They were making steady progress, and although the war in Europe began on September 1, 1939, schools in Malta were hardly affected and proceeded with their normal routine. However, Italy joined the side of the Axis on June 10, 1940, and at about 7am the next day, the Regia Aeronautica carried out a surprise attack on Malta, killing 23 civilians and six Maltese soldiers.

The Jesuit community in Malta and the rector of St Aloysius’ College, Fr Joseph Delia, were faced with a problem. The college had a Sicilian provincial, as it officially belonged to Italy, which was now at war with Britain and its Allies. As a result, the British authorities were on the verge of confiscating the college.

The rector sought advice and found it thanks to Bernard, whose father was Chief Government Medical Officer at the time; the latter advised the rector to offer part of the college to be used as a hospital. Delia agreed and consequently the Medical and Health Department immediately requisitioned almost three-quarters of the college premises for use as a hospital, an old people’s home and a residential quarter for the nursing sisters.

The college theatre was turned into a hospital ward with three rows of beds. Besides the nuns the patients were also attended by various helpers. Naudi visited the sick and injured, and being a cheerful man, he helped raise their morale.

The college’s 338 students were accommodated in the remaining quarter of the premises. Due to the lack of dormitories the number of boarders had to be drastically reduced, and as a result, preference was given to students from Gozo and other faraway cities and villages.

He was responsible for taking a photo of each and every student to have it inserted in the College annual

School hours were shortened and lessons were only held in the morning from 8.15am to 12.15pm until the end of the war. This did not deter Naudi from fulfilling his pastoral work or his regency, which in his case was that of teaching.

The college premises were large, and the space therein was used to its best advantage:

In the basement were the boarders’ dormitory, various rooms for the hospital nursing staff and the hospital operating theatre. Half of the ground floor on the side of the church were used as senior school classrooms, a lay staff room and a room for hospital sisters. On the first floor were the rooms of the Jesuit community, middle school classes and a prep class.

The second floor had two large dormitories occupied by over 100 residents of St Vincent de Paul Hospital, to which were added 26 blind people in January 1941. The study hall of the day boys near the church was converted into a dormitory for doctors and the playgrounds, as if to add a grim, though sometimes humorous aspect to the scene, were used by units of the Home Guard for evening training.

On April 13, 1942, the head office of the Medical and Health Department in Valletta was hit and yet another study hall of the college was placed at the disposal of its clerical staff. More was to follow. When the Archbishop’s Seminary in Floriana was blitzed, the college welcomed the seminarians to continue their lessons in the afternoons and evenings when the classrooms were vacant.

But one essential thing was missing. The college lacked a suitable underground shelter. Concerned for the safety of the considerable number of people there, Delia decided to have one built. He sent an application to the Public Works Department for its construction and works started on October 28, 1940. Despite his enthusiasm, work moved at a snail’s pace. On February 5, 1941, Governor Sir William Dobbie visited the college and expressed his displeasure at the slow work being performed.

He took a personal interest in the matter and the shelter was finally ready on March 27, 1941. It consisted of a fairly large L-shaped gallery under 12 feet of solid rock beneath the inner sports ground. It had two entrances each facing a solid wall to protect the occupants from a blast. One entrance was in the very centre of the corridor in the basement and the other was right out in the open between the two former inner grounds.

The shelter was used extensively throughout air raids as everybody felt safe there. The Jesuits had a place reserved specially for them and Naudi helped the senior Jesuits into the shelter whenever the alarm was sounded.

On November 22, 1941, after a raid, a student made a startling discovery. A ‘bomb’ in the form of a thermos flask was found in a mound of rubble in the playground. By chance, the Governor happened to visit the hospital and precautions were taken to keep everybody, especially the students, away from danger. Sir William was urgently called and he hurried to the ground. After advising everybody to keep at a safe distance, he called a sergeant and two soldiers from the bomb disposal squad.

The bomb was cautiously lifted and as the seconds ticked away the atmosphere was so tense one could hear a pin drop. The thermos flask was gently and carefully prised open and out fell two harmless-looking welded empty tins of salmon. It was a prank and everyone breathed a sigh of relief. The culprit was never caught.

Nothing escaped the sharp eyes of the enemy, and once a possible target was noted, it would be next in line for a surprise attack. The various and large number of people living at St Aloysius’ College offered this possibility. Raids took place day and night, and the Luftwaffe chose the latter.

Not long after the bomb hoax, on December 18, 1941, as Naudi was saying his night prayers, there was a raid on the island and the alarm was sounded. Almost at once the boarders, the community and all those who could walk scrambled for the shelter, followed by the infirm helped by nurses. Naudi and Bernard assisted as much as they could. Being still young and energetic they had an advantage of agility.

Just before 10.30pm, a lone Junkers 88 night fighter-bomber detached itself from the main bomber stream and made for the college. Amid the din of distant exploding bombs, one could suddenly hear the crescendo of a low flying machine followed by a high pitched whistle and a huge explosion that rocked the foundations of the college church. The people in the shelter hurriedly made the sign of the cross and recited the Lord’s prayer in order to be delivered from harm.

The grotto of Our Lady of Lourdes was built exactly on the spot where the bomb had made a deep hole

As soon as the raiders had passed, torches were lit and many ran towards the church. This was spared, but a 500-pound bomb had carved a deep hole in the college garden in front of the church a few feet away from the main building. Luckily no one was injured but many windows had had their panes shattered. As a result some beds were moved away from the walls to prevent the cold wintry air from entering through the broken windows.

The next morning the community and the boys prayed fervently and thanked the Lord for having spared them casualties and more serious damage. In gratitude to God for the narrow escape, the rector promised to pay for a dinner for the old people at the Little Sisters of the Poor.

He and the Jesuit community also made a solemn oath to Our Lady that if through her heavenly intercession the college remained unscathed throughout the war, a shrine dedicated to her would be built where the 500-pounder had been dropped. In the afternoon, the hospital staff gathered in the indoor chapel and sang the Te Deum to thank the Lord for having spared them that danger.

In 1942, air raids were becoming so continuous day and night that it was felt necessary to be forewarned of incoming Axis planes. A senior boy had the task of staying on the roof keeping a sharp lookout for the red flag meaning danger hoisted on the top of Castille. Once the alarm was given he would then scurry down to give the warning to the college. This would result in gaining a few extra seconds advantage for the boys and the community to scramble for their life and make for the shelter before the wailing of the sirens.

Malta was at that time fighting for its life. On April 22, bombs hit part of the Jesuits’ Sarria residence in Floriana. Three Italian Jesuit ‘internees’ there, namely, Fr A. Di Re, Bro. Vincenzo Mirti and Bro. Vito Di Noto were given permission by the authorities to go and reside at the college. But Fr Emmanuel Grima and Bro. Frenċ Schembri remained at Sarria.

Naudi and many others would survive the onslaught in the deep rock shelter hewn well below ground. Finally, he and Bernard were ordained priests on September 13, 1944, in the college church. After the war, they both left for Heythrop College in England where they stayed for two years pursuing their studies in Theology.

Meanwhile, the promise made by Delia in 1941 was fulfilled as Our Lady spread her mantle over the college and spared it from death and destruction in the blitz on Malta. The grotto of Our Lady of Lourdes was built in the college garden exactly on the spot where the bomb had made a deep hole on that memorable night in 1941.

It was inaugurated at a Marian ceremony on July 16, 1958, during the rectorship of Fr Salvino Darmanin SJ, who left no stone unturned to fulfill his predecessor’s vow. The same date was the anniversary of the 18th and last apparition of Our Lady of Lourdes. Both Naudi and Bernard were there, including a number of boys representing practically all classes and divisions.

At 6.15pm, a short procession carried the statue from the church, winding round the inner ground, and proceeding to the grotto in front of the church. The rector blessed the statue and it was put in its niche. Fr Emvin Busuttil gave a short talk, stressing that “the bomb in the hands of men was a weapon of destruction but in the hands of Mary it proved to be a clear sign of protection”.

After the sermon, all recited the rosary, and letters written in the month of May by the boys with petitions to Our Lady were burned. Finally, the rector imparted a solemn benediction and the congregation joined the choir of the Ladies Sodality singing hymns to Our Lady.

Naudi had a lot in his plate and ill-health obliged him to be relieved of teaching, and for his benefit he was sent to Sarria. Although he was advised to take it easy, he returned to work with great enthusiasm as before. As he was getting on in age, he could not adapt well to his new environment but he revived his old hobby of photography and he won many local and international competitions.

The Lord’s vineyard is very extensive and it took Naudi beyond Malta’s shores. He spent 15 years in London doing parish work when he suddenly felt ill as he was preparing to celebrate Mass at St Anselm church in Holborn on October 13, 1993. He was then rushed to the same hospital where he had been chaplain and had previously won over many a heart, but he died a few minutes later.

Naudi will always be remembered for his goodness and words of inspiration and encouragement to the young generation in the field of sport and counselling at St Aloysius’ College; over a period of 33 years he was a positive influence on many students, who in turn felt endeared to this Jesuit father and held him in high esteem.

I would like to thank University chaplain Fr Arthur Vella and Fr Carmel Delia from the Jesuit Novitiate in Naxxar for their help and information, and the Provincial's Socius Fr John Scicluna for the photos.