The Gothic Line Read online

  The Gothic Line

  THE GOTHIC LINE

  CANADA’S MONTH OF HELL IN WORLD WAR II ITALY

  MARK ZUEHLKE

  Copyright © 2003 by Mark Zuehlke

  03 04 05 06 07 5 4 3 2 1

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored

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  a copyright licence, visit www.accesscopyright.ca or call toll free

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  Douglas & McIntyre Ltd.

  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

  The Gothic Line : Canada’s month of hell in World War II Italy / by Mark Zuehlke.

  Includes bibliographical references and index.

  ISBN 1-55365-023-9

  1. World War, 1939–1945—Campaigns—Italy. 2. Canada.

  Canadian Army—History—World War, 1939–1945. I. Title.

  D763.I8Z83 2003 940.54’215 C2003-910595-4

  Library of Congress information is available upon request

  Editing by Elizabeth McLean

  Jacket design by Peter Cocking & Jessica

  Sullivan Jacket photograph: NAC PA-173437

  Interior design by Peter Cocking

  Maps by C. Stuart Daniel/Starshell Maps

  Typeset by Rhonda Ganz

  Printed and bound in Canada by Friesens

  Printed on acid-free paper

  All photos were supplied by the National Archives of Canada,

  and, unless cited, were taken by unspecified Department of

  National Defence photographers.

  We gratefully acknowledge 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 our publishing activities.

  It is just a rough hard job, which must be carried through.

  WINSTON CHURCHILL

  Oh, what with the wounded, and what with the dead.

  And what with the boys, who are swinging the lead.

  If this war isn’t over, and that goddamn soon,

  There’ll be nobody left in this bloody platoon.

  UNKNOWN CANADIAN SOLDIER IN ITALY

  I can’t see us getting out of here alive.

  PRIVATE STAN SCISLOWSKI,

  PERTH REGIMENT OF CANADA

  [ CONTENTS ]

  Preface

  Acknowledgements

  Maps

  INTRODUCTION Long March To the Gothic Line

  PART ONE RETURN TO THE ADRIATIC

  1 Sojourn in Florence

  2 A Very Happy Family

  3 Inevitable Wrangles

  4 With the Greatest Energy

  5 Under the Boot Heel

  6 A Tremendous Nut To Crack

  PART TWO DRIVE TO THE GOTHIC LINE

  7 We Begin the Last Lap

  8 Ah, Cannon!

  9 Quite an Affair

  10 A Gallant Do

  11 Most Difficult and Unpleasant

  12 Something Radically Wrong

  PART THREE THE GATECRASH

  13 Go Down, Boys

  14 A Definite Breach

  15 A Bitter Day

  16 Pure Bloody Murder

  17 A Greater Sorrow

  18 Absolute Bedlam

  19 A Long Chance

  PART FOUR THE DOG FIGHT

  20 All This Unpleasantness

  21 A Sure-thing Gallop

  22 It Was Useless

  23 A Hard Row To Hoe

  24 Five Minutes To Twelve

  PART FIVE THE RIDGES

  25 This Is Our House

  26 A Carefully Coordinated Plan

  27 Little Reason for It

  28 To the Last Man

  29 Going To Bleed You

  30 We’ll All Be Heroes

  31 The Gallant Attackers

  32 Well Done, Canada

  EPILOGUE The Gothic Line in Memory

  APPENDIX A Eighth Army Order of Battle

  APPENDIX B Canadians at the Gothic Line

  APPENDIX C Canadian Infantry Battalion (typical organization)

  APPENDIX D Canadian Military Order of Rank

  APPENDIX E German Military Order of Rank

  APPENDIX F The Decorations

  Glossary of Common Military Terms and Weaponry

  Notes

  Bibliography

  General Index

  Index of Formations, Units and Corps

  About the Author

  PREFACE

  THIS IS THE FINAL VOLUME of what has developed into a trilogy of books detailing the experiences of Canadians in the largest, most decisive battles of World War II’s Italian campaign. Following the publication of both Ortona: Canada’s Epic World War II Battle and The Liri Valley: Canada’s World War II Breakthrough to Rome, an ever growing number of veterans of this long, brutal, and terribly costly campaign contacted me to share their personal memories of the Gothic Line Battle. I have drawn on veteran memories by letter, E-mail correspondence, telephone calls, and personal interviews. The willingness of these old soldiers to frankly discuss what for many was a painfully grim part of their young lives has made these three books possible. It is their ability to vividly recall many details—sifted together with the official records, regimental diaries and official histories, autobiographies and biographies, and other archival materials—that enabled a dramatic and detailed depiction of the combat experience of Canadians at the Gothic Line during the late summer of 1944.

  Some military historians are skeptical of incorporating veteran memory into the examination of battle. This skepticism becomes most keenly honed when one is asking a person to reach back across the span of almost a lifetime. Such historians tend to argue that it is only to the official records that we can turn for accurate accounts of events. Another, generally smaller number of historians turn only to the oral history of those who lived through the war—choosing to present in unvarnished form the accounts of veterans, without placing these experiences into the larger historical context of the battle in which their tale unfolded.

  I follow a middle path between these two groups—shaping a detailed narrative of the Canadian experience of battle by weaving together the accounts of veterans and the official record. Such an approach is fraught with its own intrinsic difficulties, the most challenging being how to handle those times when historical record and veteran memory conflict. Fortunately, these situations arise far less than might seem probable at first blush. I have often been amazed at how clearly many veterans recall a specific incident and can peg it to an exact date or even hour. Go back to the official record, particularly the regimental war diaries, and there is a short description that aligns well with the veteran’s recollection.

  There are, however, times when memory and record do not mesh so cleanly. Most of these instances occur where the perception of regimental honour or the reputation of an individual—most probably a senior officer—might be compromised by the reality of events and behaviour during the course of combat. At such times, the regimental histories and official contemporary military records become suddenly vague or highly sanitized to avoid the hint of aspersion. My approach in these instances is to consult as many sources as possible, both by contacting more veterans who were present at the time and by checking every possible document. This approach usual
ly makes it possible to develop an accurate depiction of how that event transpired. At other times, however, the matter remains obscure and it is necessary to finally make a calculated judgement call as to how a situation likely played out. In these rare circumstances, I have tended to accept veteran memory over the official record, for it is, after all, their story that I present here. The veterans lived through the battle, buried friends who did not, and have carried the memory of war’s experience through the rest of their lives.

  As the years have passed, memories have generally dimmed. There are few veterans still able to extensively recall the twenty-six days of combat that was the Gothic Line Battle. What they impart are fragments, anecdotal incidents that burned so deeply into consciousness they remain there still. Seldom are these moments that bathe the remembering veteran in a heroic spotlight. That light they direct elsewhere, onto friends and compatriots they served alongside. Often the memories are humorous, because there is little pain in such stories. These are generally the only tales that veterans will tell wives, children, and grandchildren. When asked—as I have asked—for them to relate the darker events, some refuse, but surprisingly most do their best. One veteran’s small fragment linked to those of other veterans is then tied together with the historical and official record to yield a credible account. An account that does honour to those who lived through a terrible test of spirit.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  MY GREATEST THANKS to the many veterans who contributed to this book, all of whom are listed in the bibliography. There are a few, however, who I would like to recognize specifically. Tony Poulin took great care to provide many personal experiences, often translating thoroughly from French to English for my non-bilingual edification the accounts he had written years before. Strome Galloway has been a wonderful, gracious source for the duration of my research work on all three books. John Dougan, Jack Haley, David Kinloch, J. Milton Gregg, and Ted Shuter were also extremely patient and helpful.

  At the regimental museums and archives, staff and volunteers were always generous with their time and willing to provide material that otherwise would not have been available. Special thanks to Tony Walters of the Rocky Mountain Rangers and Howard Hisdal of the British Columbia Dragoons. Thanks also to Dr. Steve Harris and others at the Directorate of History, Department of National Defence, staff at the National Archives of Canada, Chris Petter and the two Terrys at University of Victoria’s Special Collections, and Debbie Lindsey at the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation’s Radio Archives.

  In Italy, Amedeo Montemaggi was a wonderful resource and I cannot say enough kind things about Oviglio Monti. Both shared their wartime stories and local knowledge. Monti drove much of the battle-field with me and, when he could not, loaned his car to this virtual stranger from Canada for solo outings. His Hotel Levante in Rimini was a pleasant base for operations. My thanks to his family, too, for their help.

  Alex McQuarrie translated the German paratrooper Carl Bayerlein’s account into English and has always been supportive of my work. Dr. Bill McAndrew pointed me to several valuable sources and provided sound counsel on other matters of relevance. Ken McLeod previously opened many doors to the homes of veterans in Vancouver and kindly shared his oral history collection with me.

  Literary agent Carolyn Swayze worked very hard on my behalf, making it possible for me to focus on the research and writing while she dealt with the burdensome contractual and financial complexities that sometimes seemed destined to sink this entire project. That it is here today is in no small measure due to her efforts. As was the case with my other two books on the Italian campaign, C. Stuart Daniel contributed his mapmaking excellence and Elizabeth McLean her precise editorial eye. Finally, I have been fortunate indeed to have the support and companionship of Frances Backhouse, mi amore.

  [ INTRODUCTION ]

  Long March To the Gothic Line

  THEY WERE the forgotten soldiers. Some thought themselves forsaken. They marched amid an Allied army in a Canadian corps that had largely disappeared from the consciousness of Canadians back home. “Where are you? We never hear about you in the newspapers!” was a common refrain in letters received from parents, siblings, wives, and lovers. The short, grim answer: “In Italy.”

  For almost a year, until early June 1944, the eyes of the Western world had been rivetted on the slow, bloody Allied advance up Italy’s long, hard boot to Rome. On June 6, 1944—D-Day—history’s largest armada hove to off the shores of Normandy and a great amphibious invasion gained the Allies a decisive toehold in northern France. D-Day transformed the Western European theatre of combat. Once it had been thought that the outcome of the Western Allied war against the Axis powers might depend on driving up the length of Italy to pierce into Austria, and then break into Germany through the back door north of Vienna. British Prime Minister Winston Churchill called this the offensive against “Europe’s soft underbelly.”

  Italy had, however, proven to be more hard, sinewy muscle than tender tissue. An unforgiving land, divided in the centre by the Apennines, crisscrossed by ravines and spiny ridges, Italy was ideal for defence and hostile to the offence. In summer, it was sun-scorched and dust-choked; in winter, drenching rains transformed the soil into a muddy quagmire. Despite the terrain, the Allies in Italy had slowly, relentlessly prevailed.

  From the Canadian perspective, the Italian campaign had served initially as a proving ground for an army largely untested. Although by early 1942 Canada had deployed 465,000 soldiers to Britain, none had undergone a baptism of fire. While thousands of British soldiers fought and died in North Africa, the Canadians in Britain trained and waited for a great invasion of Western Europe that drew no closer with each passing season. Between training schemes, they drank, went sightseeing, fell in love with and married British women, and fathered children. Along with growing numbers of Americans, they behaved somewhat like an occupation force. “The problem with the Americans,” went a British saying of the day, “is they’re overpaid, oversexed, and over here.” Canadians were only slightly more popular.

  On August 19, 1942, the Canadians finally did fight. Operation Jubilee was an amphibious raid on the small French port of Dieppe. Of the 6,000-strong attacking force, 4,963 were Canadians. Jubilee was a disaster. In a matter of hours, the attackers were cut to pieces on the beaches. Only 2,210 Canadians returned to Britain and 28 of these died of wounds. Of the rest, 807 were killed during the battle and 82 of the 1,946 taken prisoner of war perished while in captivity.

  Rather than dampen Canadian military ardour, Dieppe fuelled the growing demand at home that Canada’s army get into the fight. The government agreed and saw its opportunity when Operation Husky, the invasion of Sicily, was proposed in early 1943. Initially, no Canadian units were assigned to the operation. But the Canadian government lobbied hard and the Combined Chiefs of Staff finally agreed to attach 1st Canadian Infantry Division and 1st Canadian Armoured Brigade to the British Eighth Army for the invasion.

  On July 10, 1943, the Canadians waded ashore on the extreme tip of the Pachino peninsula, Sicily’s southernmost point. From here, they marched 130 miles, fought several small, fierce engagements, and took 2,310 casualties. Of these, 562 died and 490 were buried in a small Canadian-only cemetery on the outskirts of Agira in the hardscrabble Sicilian interior. It was at Agira and nearby Leonforte—two dun-coloured mediaeval hilltop fortress towns—that a majority of the Canadian casualties were suffered.

  Sicily served as a stepping-stone for an invasion of Italy. It was an invasion the British wanted and the Americans agreed to only half-heartedly, fearful such a campaign would weaken the Allied ability to proceed with the invasion of Western Europe. Canada wanted to be in the fight, if there was to be one. On September 3, Eighth Army crossed the Strait of Messina with the Canadian veterans of Sicily leading the way.

  Even as these Canadians started the long trek up the Italian boot, plans were underway in Ottawa to expand the Canadian presence in Italy from a mere division and brigade
to a full, entirely Canadian corps. By November 1, I Canadian Corps was a reality brought into the strength of Eighth Army. It comprised the seasoned troops of 1st Canadian Infantry Division and 1st Canadian Armoured Brigade, as well as the newly arrived 5th Canadian Armoured Division. By the end of 1943, about 75,000 Canadians were in Italy, including the many support personnel necessary to keep a corps operational.

  The 5th Canadian Armoured Division was spared the first prolonged Canadian battle in Italy. From December 6, 1943 to January 4, 1944, 1 CID and 1 CAB slugged it out with the elite 90th Panzer Grenadier and 1st Parachute divisions for control of a few miles of ground extending from the Moro River to just beyond the Adriatic port town of Ortona. The Moro River, Villa Rogatti, San Leonardo, Casa Berardi, Cider Crossroads, The Gully, Torre Muchia, and Ortona became battle honours for the regiments engaged at each place. Inside Ortona, an eight-day street battle between the German paratroopers and the Loyal Edmonton Regiment, the Seaforth Highlanders of Canada, and the Three Rivers Tank Regiment was one of the most intense and costly battles ever fought by Canadian soldiers. At month’s end, 2,339 Canadians were casualties, including 502 dead.