Operation Husky Read online

  Axis confusion was furthered by Hitler’s penchant for thinking himself one step ahead of both his general staff and the Allies. Hitler decided the deception documents confirmed that the main Allied thrust would be directed at the Balkans. An invasion there, he said, was “more dangerous than the problem of Italy which, if the worst comes to the worst, we can always seal off somewhere.”6 Hitler’s assessment that an invasion in the Balkans posed more danger to Germany was correct, for it was from southeastern Europe that many vital raw materials, such as grain, timber, oil, and minerals, were drawn. As the American official historian later argued, “Hitler expected the Allies to land in Greece or the Balkans, and his reasoning was sound. Both areas were more important to the German economy than Italy. The populations were friendly to the Allies. An Allied invasion would supplement pressure, force the dispersal of Axis troops over widely separated areas, and forestall a Russian occupation of the Balkans.”7

  The German Armed Forces High Command, meanwhile, had also been closely examining the documents found on the dead courier. According to their analysis, an operation code-named “Husky” would land two British infantry divisions in Greece with another operation in the western Mediterranean against an unspecified target. But this landing would be supported by a “feint attack against Sicily.” Sardinia and Corsica were deemed at risk and it was recommended that because the “report directs special attention on Sardinia and the southwestern Greek ports ... the importance of increased preparedness in these sectors” was imperative.8

  Tenth Army commander Generalfeldmarschall Albert Kesselring, who was responsible for German operations in southern Italy, was less convinced. While recognizing that “landings in the south of France or in the Balkans . . . might be assessed as a preliminary to operations with far-reaching strategic and political aims,” Kesselring believed the Allies more likely sought to defeat Italy. Sicily provided a logical stepping stone onto the mainland, but so too did Sardinia or Corsica. And, like the other German analysts, Kesselring could not discount the possibility of Allied invasions in the Balkans, or southern France, or anywhere else in the Mediterranean for that matter. The Allied options seemed limitless. Yet whenever he looked at the map and saw Sicily sitting there so temptingly below the toe of Italy’s boot, and considered what its possession would provide the Allied air and naval forces in terms of an operational base, it was hard to believe the invasion would not fall there.9

  And the Axis forces were ill prepared to defend it. Although Italy’s armed forces numbered two million men, about 1.2 million of these were serving abroad on fronts such as Russia and the Balkans. These troops were the country’s best trained and equipped. The forces that remained in the homeland were of generally poor quality. Badly equipped and inadequately supplied, they were seriously demoralized by May 1943. News that Italy’s very best divisions had surrendered—those that had shown such tenacity in the final stages of fighting in Tunisia—sent their spirits tumbling to even lower depths. The Tunisian defeat dealt a fatal blow not just to military morale, but to that of the entire population, which was shaken by the loss of this last remaining colony. A war that had never been popular became much less so. His Excellency Cavalier Benito Mussolini’s prestige nosedived, and general war weariness began to manifest as open defeatism. When King Victor Emmanuel III suggested to Il Duce that Italy should “consider very seriously the possibility” of breaking with Nazi Germany to negotiate a separate peace, he only echoed popular opinion.10 Mussolini rejected the suggestion.

  Il Duce was woefully ignorant of both the general mood in Italy and the pathetic condition of his homeland army. He pronounced that Italians would defend their native soil to the bitter end, that any Allied attack “on our mainland” would be heroically defeated.11 Yet Mussolini realized the first attack on Italian soil would more likely be directed either at Sardinia or Sicily. Whereas his army commanders favoured Sardinia, Mussolini suspected Sicily because its possession would give the Allies control of the Mediterranean Sea. None of the Italians were fooled by Operation Mincemeat into thinking the Allies would strike anywhere but Italy. Still, neither Mussolini nor the army command undertook any major effort to bolster Sicily’s defences.

  The commander-in-chief of Italy’s Sixth Army technically commanded all Axis troops in Sicily. In 1943, Generale di Corpo Mario Roatta held this post from February to the beginning of June. Roatta recognized the danger to the island and worked feverishly to bolster Sicily’s fortifications. But lacking necessary resources, he achieved minimal results. Roatta’s request for cement to construct fixed defences typified the problems faced. Instead of the 160,000 tons he sought, Roatta was sent only 7,000 and told to share this amount with the naval and air commands on the island.12

  The Axis chain of command on Sicily was chaotic. While all army units and some naval and air formations fell under Roatta’s authority, those naval forces deemed to be in the three “fortress areas” of Messina-Reggio, Trapani, and Augusta-Siracusa were commanded by admirals who reported to a naval headquarters—Comando Militare Marittimo Autonomo della Sicilia—which was independent of Sixth Army. Anti-aircraft units were distinct again and under a commander who reported directly to the Ministry of War in Rome. The German army and air force ground crews technically fell under Roatta’s command for political reasons, but Hitler had quietly arranged for General der Panzertruppen Fridolin von Senger und Etterlin to be posted as German liaison to Sixth Army’s headquarters. His orders were to keep German troops under his administrative control.13

  By the end of May, Roatta’s morale was dipping perilously close to the same dismal level as that of the average soldier serving in Sicily. When German foreign minister Konstantin von Neurath toured Sicily to prepare a report on the defences for Hitler, Roatta said bluntly that he had little “confidence in the possibility of defending Sicily. He claimed he was too weak and that his troops were not properly equipped.” Since the beginning of May, the Royal Air Force had been subjecting the island to severe bombing raids and strafing runs. Ferry traffic from the mainland to Messina had been brought to a near standstill. The Sicilian populace despised the Germans and believed that only liberation by the English would bring peace. Roatta divulged his woes in long, tedious detail that von Neurath delivered almost verbatim to Hitler. Asked his personal opinion of Roatta, von Neurath observed, “I wouldn’t trust him further than I could kick him,” and speculated that the general was plotting something.14

  Perhaps he had been, for on May 30, Roatta was unexpectedly appointed Chief of the General Staff of the Army. His replacement in Sicily was Generale d’Armata Alfredo Guzzoni, a sixty-six-year-old called back to service after two years in retirement, who had never been to the island. His first inspection left the new general shocked and dismayed. At first glance, the command—numbering some 200,000 Italian troops backed up by another 32,000 German soldiers and 30,000 German Luftwaffe ground crews—should have been impressive. About half the Italian troops comprised four divisions and his army headquarters troops, while the rest were assigned to coastal defence divisions or various support services. Everything Guzzoni saw only convinced him that his Italian forces were “mediocre,” with poor morale, equipment, and training to boot. A large number of the troops were Sicilians, who shared the civilian population’s disillusion with the government and the war. Food shortages and the unrelenting Allied bombing increased their misery.15 Just to feed the civilians and soldiers on the island required nearly eight thousand tons of supplies daily, but only about fifteen hundred to two thousand tons made it across the Straits of Messina. So everyone went hungry.16

  The coastal defence divisions were badly understrength, and many of their troops were elderly. Defending a ninety-mile front from Siracusa to Cape Scaramia—which was precisely where Eighth Army planned to land—the 206th Coastal Division had just fifty-six outdated field guns, thirty-four mortars, and six hundred and ninety light and medium machine guns. On average, there was one anti-tank gun for every five miles of c
oastline. The much-touted Mobile Groups were equipped with obsolescent tanks and a smattering of self-propelled 47-millimetre guns, light artillery, and anti-tank weapons. 17 Even the four mobile infantry divisions were poor. The 28th (Aosta) and 54th (Napoli) were undermanned, short on equipment, and ill trained. Enjoying only slightly better morale, but otherwise equivalent to these two divisions, was the 26th (Assietta). More recently deployed to Sicily from Rome, the 4th (Livorno) Assault and Landing Division had better training and, rather than relying almost completely on horse-drawn transportation, was two-thirds motorized. It also had a good number of light tanks.18

  Not only was the quality of troops poor, but the coastal defences were also a shambles and lacked a continuous system of fortification. In many sections, there were no minefields, obstacles, anti-tank ditches, pillboxes, or dugouts at all. Elsewhere, such defensive works were badly separated or sited, so that one position provided no support to another. Back of the beaches, little attempt had been made to construct defensive positions to provide in-depth strength.

  Prior to retirement, Guzzoni had reputedly been one of Italy’s more competent generals, which he soon proved was still the case. Despite the seemingly hopeless situation, the general did not despair. In a personal effort to turn the situation around, he logged seventeen-hour days. Given the lamentable condition of both defences and his Italian troops, Guzzoni realized that Sicily’s salvation might depend on the two German divisions garrisoned there.19

  Both were good. The Hermann Göring Panzer Division—a Luftwaffe unit originally formed to serve as the supreme air force commander’s personal bodyguard but later released for combat duty—deployed to Sicily on June 20 at Kesselring’s direct order. The best of its troops had been sent to Tunisia and had surrendered there, so it was capable of fielding only two full infantry battalions rather than its mandated two Panzer Grenadier regiments.20 It also had lost a third of its artillery strength, a portion of its flak regiment, and about half of its supply and support units. However, the division was strong in terms of armour, with two tank battalions fielding ninety-nine tanks. About thirty-five of these, however, were outdated Mark IIIs that were more lightly armoured than the Allied Shermans. Mounting either a long-barrelled 50-millimetre or short-barrelled low-velocity 75-millimetre gun, they were barely a match for the Sherman’s 76-millimetre gun. A roughly equal number of German tanks were Mark IVs armed with a 75-millimetre long-barrelled gun that could go head to head with a Sherman. A third armoured battalion was equipped with self-propelled guns. The division also had an attached army tank company, the 2nd Company of the 504th Heavy Panzer Battalion, recently supplied with seventeen Tiger I tanks. Weighing fifty-six tons, the Tiger mounted an 88-millimetre gun that greatly outmatched the Sherman’s 76-millimetre. Its heavy armour rendered it almost impervious to anything but the luckiest of hits on a weak point. The Tiger, however, was new technology and prone to breakdown.21 Generalmajor Paul Conrath commanded the Hermann Göring Division. A former Berlin State Police officer, Conrath had joined the Luftwaffe in 1935 and seen extensive service on the Russian front at the head of what had originally been formed as a regiment, then expanded to a brigade, and finally became the division he still led.

  The other German division in Sicily had been cobbled together from troops drawn from bits and pieces of units scattered all over Italy, but most had either been serving in anti-aircraft units on the island or waiting there as reinforcements bound for Tunisia. Although designated the 15th Panzer Grenadier Division, its structure did not adhere to conventional form because of its ad hoc construction. At its core, however, were two Panzer Grenadier regiments—the 129th and 104th. The former was composed largely of men who had seen hard service on the Russian front fighting in Panzer divisions, while the latter was made up of wounded veterans of the Afrika Korps.22

  As was the norm for Panzer Grenadier regiments, each battalion was better equipped with automatic weapons, anti-tank guns, and mortars than were regular German infantry regiments. Each battalion was armed with fifty-nine light and twelve heavy machine guns, three 75-millimetre anti-tank guns, six 8-centimetre mortars, and four 12-centimetre mortars. The mass of machine guns gave these battalions a weight of firepower far superior to any comparable Commonwealth unit. The division’s tank regiment also fielded about sixty Mark III and Mark IV tanks, while another unit was armed with thirty-six multibarrelled rocket launchers, called Nebelwerfers. German artillery field pieces on the island numbered 104. Added to this was a plethora of anti-aircraft guns ranging from light-calibre weapons up to the deadly 88-millimetres that could equally serve an anti-tank or general artillery role.23

  Assembly of this division had begun in April under the hand of Oberst Ernst-Günther Baade, an eccentric but brilliant officer. On June 9, however, Generalmajor Eberhard Rodt had taken over the division. Rodt had performed capably in a variety of command slots on the Russian front. Although the new commander had little knowledge of Sicily, the division’s other officers had at least a few months’ experience on the island and most of the troops also shared a good sense of the ground. Not as mechanized as the Hermann Göring Division, the 15th was still sufficiently mobile to enable its rapid deployment to wherever required.24

  The mobility and strength of the German divisions prompted Guzzoni to position both of them inland from the southeastern coast as a reserve to the Napoli and two coastal divisions assigned to that area’s defence. He also concentrated his best Italian division—the Livorno—here as an inland reserve in the expectation that the Allies would land on beaches in Sicily’s southeastern corner. Guzzoni’s plan called for the coastal divisions to fight a delaying action rather than try to immediately repel the invasion. He would then counterattack with the Livorno and German divisions and drive the Allied forces into the sea. Given his resources, Guzzoni’s plan was sound, and he had correctly divined where the Allies would strike.25

  But during a visit to the island on June 26, Generalfeldmarschall Kesselring questioned the plan. At Guzzoni’s headquarters in Enna, Kesselring worried that the Italian was overconfident about where the Allied landing would fall. He insisted that the majority of the 15th Panzer Grenadier Division should be deployed in the western part of Sicily to protect Palermo and that one of its regimental groups be detached to directly defend Catania on the east coast. Only the Hermann Göring Division would be kept in the southeastern reserve. Kesselring’s plan not only scattered one German division into packets but robbed Guzzoni of the concentrated punch he could have delivered by sending both divisions into battle side by side.

  “Smiling Albert,” as Kesselring’s detractors had nicknamed him, had a sound reputation as a strategist and tactician. Now fifty-seven, Kesselring had transferred from the army to the Luftwaffe during the interwar years but always considered himself “a soldier heart and soul.”26 It was the role he now served, despite still wearing Luftwaffe insignia. Cheerful and optimistic to a fault, Kesselring also had an iron will and was always persuasive. In leaving it to the Luftwaffe Generalfeldmarschall to determine how German forces would be used in the defence of Sicily, Hitler had said, ruefully, that “Kesselring is no end of an optimist and we must be careful that in his optimism he doesn’t fail to see the moment when optimism must be a thing of the past and severity take its place.”27 Yet on June 26, Kesselring behaved more as Hitler appeared to wish. He was forceful and convincing in presenting his argument, which suddenly had the Germans preparing to defend the island in every direction feasible. Despite the fact that Rodt and Guzzoni both disagreed, Kesselring refused to be swayed, and the Italian general reluctantly agreed to change his dispositions. Von Senger approved of the dispersal of a German division to guard against a western invasion force that might cut off the Straits of Messina and trap their forces in Sicily. But he wished Kesselring had selected the weaker Hermann Göring for scattering and kept the 15th concentrated in the southeast.28

  In a final private briefing with the German divisional commanders before he re
turned to Rome, Kesselring cautioned them: “It makes no difference whether or not you get orders from the Italian army at Enna. You must go into immediate action against the enemy the moment you ascertain the objective of the invasion fleet.”

  Conrath growled, “If you mean to go for them ... then I’m your man.” Kesselring allowed afterward that he returned home “feeling pretty confident” that an Allied invasion force striking Sicily could be repelled.29

  FROM VARIOUS POINTS of the compass, the Allied invasion fleet closed on Sicily during the last days of June. On July 1, Major General Guy Simonds ordered the senior officer aboard each ship in the fast convoy to open the bags containing the plans for Operation Husky. The troops were then divided into two groups and, as each was brought up on deck, the officer made a brief announcement to “put them in the picture.” On Hilary, Lieutenant Colonel George Kitching opened by saying, “We are on the largest combined operation ever mounted . . . and . . . our next stop is the southeastern peninsula of Sicily which we will assault and capture.”30 Upon being told that the division would join General Montgomery’s Eighth Army, the men “cheered heartily.”31

  The bulging bags yielded a treasure trove of information. Bales of maps, air photos, operation orders, and intelligence pamphlets were unwrapped for study. One cabin on each ship was transformed into a briefing room equipped with “large scale models of the beaches and hinterland where the division was to assault.”32