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  ORTONA

  ORTONA

  CANADA’S EPIC WORLD WAR II BATTLE

  MARK ZUEHLKE

  Copyright © 1999 by Mark Zuehlke

  First paperback edition 2003

  First US edition published in 2004

  03 04 05 06 07 5 4 3 2 1

  This book was published originally by Stoddart Publishing.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written consent of the publisher or a licence from The Canadian Copyright Licensing Agency (Access Copyright). For a copyright licence, visit www.accesscopyright.ca or call toll free to 1-800-893-5777.

  Douglas & McIntyre

  2323 Quebec Street, Suite 201

  Vancouver, British Columbia

  Canada V5T 4S7

  www.douglas-mcintyre.com

  National Library of Canada Cataloguing in Publication Data

  Zuehlke, Mark

  Ortona: Canada’s epic World War II battle / Mark Zuehlke.

  Includes bibliographical references and index.

  ISBN 1-55054-557-4

  1. Ortona (Italy), Battle of, 1943. 2. Canada. Canadian Army. Canadian

  Infantry Division, 1st—History. 3. World War, 1939–1945—Regimental histories—

  Canada. I. Title.

  D763.I82O77 2003 940.54′215713 2003-910572-5

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication data is available.

  Cover design by Peter Cocking

  Cover photograph by T. Rowe (NAC, PA-114490)

  Part title photo by Sarah Jane English

  Interior design and typesetting by Kinetics Design & Illustration

  Printed and bound in Canada by Friesens

  Printed on acid-free paper

  Distributed in the U.S. by Publishers Group West

  The publisher gratefully acknowledges the financial support of the Canada Council for the Arts, the British Columbia Arts Council, and the Government of Canada through the Book Publishing Industry Development Program (BPIDP) for its publishing activities.

  The next dreadful thing to a battle lost is a battle won.

  — Arthur Wellesley,

  Duke of Wellington

  CONTENTS

  Preface

  Acknowledgements

  Maps

  Introduction: The Way to Ortona

  ONE / March to the Moro

  1 A Colossal Crack

  2 Waiting, Waiting, Always Bloody Waiting

  3 Pearl of the Adriatic

  4 The Sharp End

  TWO / For Lack of a Bridge

  5 Rush Jobs

  6 No Good, Johnny

  7 Mixed Results

  8 The Impossible Bridge

  THREE / Breaking the Moro River Line

  9 Into the Inferno

  10 You Take It Now

  11 Sterlin Castle

  12 At All Costs

  FOUR / The Gully

  13 A Little Old Heart Starter

  14 All We Can Do

  15 The Germans and the Mud

  16 The Safest Place for Us

  17 A New Plan Is Needed

  18 Morning Glory

  19 The Drive to Ortona

  Five / Little Stalingrad

  20 A Bunch of Madmen

  21 They Always Mess Things Up

  22 Fight for the Bulge

  23 The Unmuffled Drums of Hell

  24 The Daring Gamble

  25 It’s Christmas Eve

  26 As Merry as Circumstances Permit

  27 Carry On

  28 There Is No Town Left

  29 Aftermaths

  30 Point 59

  Epilogue: Ortona in Memory

  Appendix A: The Canadians at Ortona

  Appendix B: Canadian Infantry Battalion (Typical Organization)

  Appendix C: Canadian Military Order of Rank

  Appendix D: German Military Order of Rank

  Appendix E: The Decorations

  Glossary of Common Canadian Military Terms and Weaponry

  Notes

  Bibliography

  General Index

  Index of Formations, Units and Corps

  PREFACE

  WRITING a history dedicated exclusively to a single battle fought more than fifty years ago presents an enormous challenge for the modern historical writer. Documentation is often lacking, the physical landscape is changed, the memories of the veterans who survived may be fading, and there are far too few veterans left. Yet that collective veteran memory became the essence of this book.

  I was privileged to interview or correspond with many an old soldier, as well as Italian civilian. I was able to access the interviews that Major Michael Boire conducted with German soldiers who fought at Ortona. Each veteran reached into the web of personal memory to pull forth compelling stories, often little more than a snapshot, of a horrific experience. My debt to them all is immense. They are all listed in the bibliography.

  There are some historians who argue that the memory of participants in events that have been filtered through the passage of fifty or more years is suspect. They argue that writers should only march down the official record when stating what is or is not a fact. Fact. What a conundrum for a non-fiction writer. Norman Mailer has argued that nothing can be factual — that everything is coloured through the eyes of the recorder and therefore no interpretation of events can be called “true.”

  I confronted this problem daily. The war diaries of the battalions featured in this book are rife with errors and sometimes blatant revisionism to protect commanders from just criticism for decisions that led to unnecessary deaths. The official histories are laden with inaccuracies that the war diaries illuminate. Individual soldiers point out errors and omissions in the official record, while the war diaries may contradict both. So where is truth?

  To address the problem, I used a somewhat unscientific solution based on gut instinct. I cross-checked where possible. If two or three veterans say the same thing, it seems probable that this is what happened. Sometimes I was forced to consider the middle road between accounts of an event and make decisions, based on terrain and other military factors, to arrive at what likely transpired. Seldom did these decisions contradict the memory of veterans relating the story more than fifty years after the fact. Rather, their memory often corrected the official version.

  War, as the esteemed psychologist Abraham Maslow contended, is a peak experience. There are only about three peak experiences possible in Maslow’s world. They involve a heightening of sensation that transcends the normal flow of life. The experience is so intense that it will never be forgotten. It is not surprising then that the veterans still carry these memories and that some are unable to discuss them at all because they remain so alive to them. For others, the memories are beginning to fade. Many times veterans either wrote or said, “I don’t remember the details.” They often referred to things being “a blur.” Yet through this fog of time, many incidents were starkly illuminated in their descriptions. The distant gaze in Bert Hoffmeister’s eyes, as he described the caked blood on the hands and faces of the wounded in the San Vito hospital, is mute evidence of how vivid such memories remain. When a bullet meant for Jock Gibson only clipped his ear, but struck the young runner behind him in the face, the image of the boy’s dead body lying on a cobblestone street in San Leonardo stuck. Those are the type of memories reflected in this book. Usually it was not too difficult to verify memories against the official documentation. Often, through interviewing other veterans, I was able to see the same incident through many eyes, and their stories were usually in agreement.

  I tried wherever possible to confirm the memory of the veterans with the historical record as contained in the National Archives of
Canada, the Directorate of History of the Department of National Defence, the Canadian War Museum, and the published official histories. At times the accounts conflict. For example, George Garbutt’s experience before Villa Rogatti was completely at odds with that recorded by the war diary and then immortalized in the Princess Patricia’s Canadian Light Infantry official history. It takes a special courage to point out that the heroism assigned to you never actually occurred and that, in fact, you were in a different part of the battlefield at the time.

  Largely, however, I believe the official records are accurate. And mostly the veterans agreed with those records. What the official records often don’t include are the mistakes made at every level of command. War is an exercise in confusion. Based mainly on the analysis of veterans, I have tried to capture and reflect the many errors of strategy and tactics that occurred. These men had to bury comrades as a result. So I gave them the last word.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  WHILE researching this book, I was assisted by many helpful staff at the National Archives of Canada and National Library of Canada, the Department of National Defence’s Directorate of History, the Canadian War Museum reading room, the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation’s Radio Archives (special thanks to Debbie Lindsey), the City of Edmonton Public Archives, and the University of Victoria Special Collections.

  Many people were extremely generous with their time and in sharing resources that helped bring this book to completion. Wayne Langton, whose father died at Ortona while serving with the Saskatoon Light Infantry, was always enthusiastic with his support. Oral historian Ken MacLeod both physically and metaphorically opened doors to interviews with various veterans. Dr. Reginald Roy provided some helpful suggestions of where to look in his papers for information.

  In Italy, I was fortunate to stay with Sue Leoni and family in Rome. Nicholas Serafini was a helpful guide in Ortona and also a capable translator. Fabio Dell’Osa and everyone at the Ristorante Miramare in Ortona did much to help ensure that the Italian story of the battle could be included. The food was wonderful, too.

  My debt to Major Michael Boire is great. He contributed immensely to my understanding of the physical nature of the battlefield in and around Ortona. Michael’s subsequent efforts in interviewing German veterans of the battle and sharing the resulting interview transcripts and translated diary entries contributed a dimension to this book that would otherwise have been absent.

  The regimental associations mostly went out of their way to try to link me up with surviving veterans. The Seaforth Highlanders of Canada and the Loyal Edmonton regimental associations were particularly helpful. The Loyal Edmonton Regiment was also a great host at two reunions, which opened doors for more interviews.

  A full list of the veterans either interviewed or corresponded with is included in the bibliography. Without their participation this book would have lacked many compelling eye-witness accounts. I am indebted to them all. Some veterans went to great lengths to help me connect with others. Victor Bulger, Wilf Gildersleeve, and Bill Worton particularly went beyond the call of duty for a stranger. So, too, did Peggy Turnbull and her family. Jerry Richards and Jack Haley not only helped with other contacts but also took an active interest in bolstering a writer’s flagging morale as the book grew in both size and complexity. It was a welcome lunch. Fred Gaffen read the manuscript and offered helpful clarification of several points regarding Canadian military organization and events at Ortona.

  A grant from the British Columbia Arts Council helped make writing this book feasible. Literary agent Carolyn Swayze found a home for it. Thanks, Carolyn. Elizabeth McLean provided her meticulous editing and, as always, was a pleasure to work with.

  I was blessed to have the unfailing support and companionship of Frances Backhouse during the research and writing of this book. She also spent long hours reading the manuscript and offering many suggestions for needed changes. Any remaining errors and omissions are mine.

  As this book was being researched, several old soldiers who fought at Ortona died. The stories they did not tell are lost now. If there is a veteran in your family, I urge you to help him write or tape his memories. With each passing on, a wealth of historical memory is forever lost.

  The many battles of World War II in which Canadians fought have largely gone ignored by historians as individual subjects worthy of in-depth attention. This book has been an effort to redress that neglect with regard to the Battle of Ortona. This is a work of remembrance. I hope it also contributes to our collective understanding of both the experience of battle and its inevitable human costs.

  INTRODUCTION: THE WAY TO ORTONA

  WHEN Canada declared war against Germany on September 10, 1939, the nation had a professional army numbering 4,500 and a partially trained militia of only 46,000. By October, 70,000 Canadians wore soldier’s khaki. In December, 15,911 sailed for Britain as part of the 1st Canadian Division. Poland had fallen. A spring invasion of France by Germany was certain. Britain was at risk.

  For the next three and a half years the Canadian army in Britain grew ever larger — reaching 500,000 by 1942. The soldiers trained and they waited. Meanwhile Canadians fought in two major battles, each ending disastrously. On December 25, 1941, Hong Kong was surrendered to Japan. Two Canadian battalions were among the vanquished defenders — 290 dead, 493 wounded, 1,184 sent to slave labour camps. Then came Dieppe on August 19, 1942. The Canadian debate over this battle’s purpose and execution will never cease. In a single dreadful day, 907 died, 1,946 surrendered, and a nation was left with a legacy of shame and glory.

  All this time 1st Canadian Division waited. The soldiers joked that theirs was the only military formation in history whose birthrate was higher than its deathrate. Many a soldier had come to Britain at twenty and was now a father at twenty-four. Then the waiting and the fun abruptly ended.

  The delay in committing Canadian divisions to battle resulted from Ottawa’s initial desire to keep its volunteer army together. But as the war dragged on, popular opinion at home called for Canadian troops to fight. Where mattered little, so long as it was sooner rather than later. The decision was made to split the army. The 1,851 officers and 24,835 enlisted men of the newly redesignated 1st Canadian Infantry Division and the 1st Canadian Army Tank Brigade were sent to the Eighth Army, commanded by General Sir Bernard Law Montgomery. Along with the U.S. Fifth Army, the Eighth Army was to invade what British Prime Minister Winston Churchill called Europe’s soft underbelly. Sicily first, Italy second, then through the back door into Austria, and perhaps right into Germany. That was the plan at its most optimistic. At the least, it was hoped, they would knock fascist Italy out of the war and divert thousands of German troops from the Russian front and France’s Atlantic coast. Already the massive buildup for an invasion across the English Channel was under way; a 1944 invasion of France was inevitable.

  Most of the 26,000-strong Canadian contingent waded ashore in Sicily on July 10, 1943. In thirty-eight days the island fell. Canadians marched 120 miles, fought several small, fierce engagements, and took 2,310 casualties. Of these 562 died. The nation now had the bloody battle honours it had sought.

  When on September 3 the Allies invaded Italy, Canadian troops were in the Eighth Army vanguard. The Italian army was in tatters after suffering massive losses in Africa and Sicily, so offered little opposition. On September 8 Italy surrendered, but German divisions quickly advanced and engaged the invading Allied forces. Through the fall of 1943, the Eighth Army fought its way up Italy’s eastern coastline, while the American Fifth Army followed the western coast. Between the two armies stood the Apennine Mountains. Every dusty mile had to be hard won.

  December 1943 brought the Canadians to the southern bank of the Moro River. Beyond lay the coastal town of Ortona. In Sicily the Canadians had been blooded, on the march up Italy’s boot they had become veterans of the long campaign. During the entire month of December, the Canadians in Italy would endure one of the most bitter battles in the natio
n’s history. This is their story.

  ONE

  MARCH TO THE MORO

  1

  A COLOSSAL CRACK

  RIDICULOUS that a piece of paper should leave him feeling so uneasy. Lieutenant Jerry Richards knew this, but the unease remained, forming a lump in his gut. November 25, 1943, and the weather was growing ever colder and wetter in the Apennine foothills where most of the 1st Canadian Infantry Division was assembled in and around the medieval town of Campobasso.

  The twenty-one-year-old lieutenant commanding the three-inch mortar platoon of the Princess Patricia’s Canadian Light Infantry Battalion thought the weather would prove no friend to soldiers on Italy’s narrow Adriatic coastal plain. Yet the warning order accompanying the rather unusual Order of the Day from Eighth Army commander General Bernard Law Montgomery directed the Canadians to prepare to embark by convoy down the rough tracks running from the mountains to the coast. The divisional move would bring the Canadian infantry division, its supporting artillery regiments, and what was now known as the 1st Canadian Armoured Brigade together south of the Sangro River for what promised to be the first major battle fought by a combined force of all Canadian units in Italy. Richards figured this battle would prove more bitter than those seen since the invasion of Sicily five months earlier. The promised soft underbelly was proving instead to be a pelvis of steel.1