by Mark Zuehlke
Bowen’s LCM made for shore. At night, or when the LCMs were not needed for immediate runs, the Canadian sailors crowded into a cave just off the sand. There were about eighty naval personnel living in this dark, filthy warren. Craving a shower, Bowen had managed to hitch a ride out to the merchant ship on which a navy gunner he knew was posted. The gunner handed him a towel and soap and “was that shower ever good.” Bowen had just dressed and was coming out on deck when a German bomb slammed into the side of the ship and blew him over backwards. “They don’t go boom, they go bam,” he said when some men picked him up. Bowen had not a scratch, but blood was coming out of his nose and ears. Getting dropped back on the beach, he staggered into the cave. His commander saw that Bowen was stumbling about strangely. “What the hell’s the matter with you?” he demanded. “I dunno, don’t know,” the coxswain replied. “The bomb landed. I’m queer.” He was told to get his head down for a bit. Bowen’s headache was fierce and unabating.
Sometime later he learned the hospital ship had been sunk with some loss of life. Bowen wondered about the nurse and hoped she was safe. His headaches were a constant torment. A couple of days later, bodies from the hospital ship drifted ashore. Bowen stood on the beach watching an LCA towing in the corpse of a nursing sister. An officer yelled to him, “Bowen, bring your knife.” He walked reluctantly to the surf line. The body was badly swollen and distorted. The skin was so swollen around either a watch or identity bracelet that nobody could tell which it was. “Norm,” the officer said, “you cut down and see if we can get an ID.”
“Sure,” Bowen answered. Then he bent down and saw the woman’s grey hair and knew it was the nursing sister who had wished God to bless him. “I just had to go away by myself,” he later recalled. A few days afterward, Bowen saw a medical officer about his still terrific headaches. The doctor looked him over. “Boy, you had one hell of a concussion. I can’t do anything about it now, it’s too late.” The doctor grinned. “Tell you what, don’t get involved in very loud noises.”
“Jesus,” Bowen shot back, “tell that to the Germans.”25
MONTGOMERY’S THIRTY-SIX-HOUR STAND-DOWN order for the Canadians not only allowed the exhausted infantry brigades time to reorganize and rest, but also enabled the supply chain to catch up. While 1 CIB spent the time concentrated around Giarratana, 2 CIB was situated between Modica and Ragusa. The reserve brigade, 3 CIB, took up positions south of Giarratana, with the Three Rivers Tank Regiment laagering in the same area. On July 13, Major General Simonds established divisional headquarters eight miles north of Modica.
Behind this leading edge of the Canadian division, the Royal Canadian Army Service Corps worked round the clock to get supplies in order for the advance into the heart of Sicily. “The vehicles are never empty,” the RCASC war diarist wrote on July 13. “Rations and supplies are brought forward and prisoners and salvage sent back. Transport is on the move 24 hours a day... It had been impossible to give the vehicles any maintenance at all, and the personnel have been able recently to snatch only the barest of rest. Their health seems not to have suffered in any way. In all their dirt and grime, they seem very happy and willing to work themselves to the limit. The run from this point back to the beach is approximately 40 kilometres over the worst possible dirt roads and tracks. It speaks very highly for the driving personnel that they have been able to keep their vehicles on the road continuously without accident and practically without the slightest breakdown. Any breakdowns have been immediately attended by vehicles of the workshops sections which have been stationed at strategic points along the route with instructions to help all and sundry.”
A shuttle service established refuelling points along the route and supply transfer stations so one convoy could hand off supplies to another working closer to the front and then go back for another load. By the morning of July 14, the division had gone from always being short of everything to having a reserve consisting of 8,400 rations, 3,840 gallons of fuel, and “a good stock” of ammunition. The same day, eighty-nine RCASC trucks were unloaded from ships offshore. Although forty-three of these were given to the infantry brigades to relieve their transport shortage, the rest were used to bolster the supply movement system. Slowly the division was getting back its mechanized mobility, but the infantry would still be largely dependent on “shank’s mare.”26
ON THE MORNING of July 14, General Montgomery toured the division and spoke to the men. Because each brigade had scattered its battalions around either Giarratana or Ragusa, Montgomery could not carry out a single collective inspection. Brigadier Howard Graham met Montgomery at a pre-arranged map reference from which he intended to guide the Eighth Army commander to his respective battalions. It was a typical hot, dusty July day in Sicily. Montgomery arrived in a camouflaged touring car with its top cut off. When Graham said he would lead the way in his Jeep, Montgomery smiled and said he should instead just show on the map where they were to go. “The foxy old fellow wasn’t going to eat the Brigadier’s dust,” Graham thought. Off they went, Montgomery’s car throwing up billows of grit, Graham and his driver choking on it as they raced to keep up.27
The battalions had been given little warning of the inspection. It was already 0822 hours when Captain Galloway received orders to report with the other company commanders to RCR headquarters. Montgomery, Lieutenant Colonel Crowe told them, would inspect their men at 1100 hours. In a quick diary notation, Galloway seethed: “Even the order of dress is laid on. One would think we were still soldiering in Sussex! It will take about an hour to get down there, if not longer, and all of two hours to get back. Have just sent the order out to the platoons, one man per section is to be left in position, the rest have to shave, readjust their equipment and move off, so that we won’t be late. The heat is going to be bloody. It is now, although not yet 9 o’clock.”28
Monty’s inspections were tightly scripted to boost troop morale. An essential component was not to keep the men waiting hours for his arrival. They were also only required to wear shorts, shirts, steel helmets, and web belts, so the individual preparation was relatively simple. Nobody had to polish boots; the dust would have rendered the effort pointless after the first step. In most cases the men barely reached their parade area before the open car arrived. They formed in open square and gave Montgomery the general salute. “After taking the salute, he just yelled to the men to group around his car,” Lieutenant Jack Francis Wallace of the Three Rivers Tank Regiment wrote. “You never saw such a sudden rise of dust as the men sprinted to his car. He spoke to us very informally asking the men as to what part of Canada we came from.” The tankers had been gathered together with the Loyal Edmonton Regiment, and Monty reflected that when the Eddies served under him in England, they had been barracked for awhile in an old brewery. Would they like some beer now? “There was one big yes. Monty said, ‘In due time.’”29
At each inspection Montgomery had the men gather about the car. Brigadier Graham was struck by how deftly the general worked the crowd. His “relationship with the troops” made it “easy to see why he is a great commander.”
“Sit down, boys, and take off your helmets. I want to see your good Canadian faces again... I hope you are enjoying it here. They tell me it looks just like Canada.” The men guffawed. “I hope the Brigadier is getting the beer up to you every day.” More roars of laughter. Montgomery smiled broadly, seeming to enjoy his jokes as much as the troops.
Then his voice softened; his expression turned serious. He was glad to have the Canadians in Eighth Army. They had done “a splendid job” so far and he was sure they would continue doing so. But he wanted to warn them “that we are going to be faced with difficult country and soon you will be running up against the Germans. So far you have met only the Italians, and they don’t want to fight; but the Germans are tough, very tough opponents. But I am confident that you can master them. I will make good plans. I wouldn’t be here today if I didn’t make good plans. But good plans need good soldiers to carry them out. I
have confidence in you. You have confidence in me, and all will be well.”30
As he was making these speeches, Montgomery was also taking the measure of the Canadians. “They are a grand Division,” he confided to his diary, “and when we get them tough and hard and some of the fat off them, they will be absolutely first class.”31
When Montgomery spoke to the Seaforth Highlanders, Private Richard Latimer considered his remarks “the usual bag of clichés ... yet somehow that wiry, ordinary looking little guy in his baggy pants ... and the famous black beret with the two cap badges [General’s and Armoured Corps] exuded confidence and it could not help rubbing off on us.” On the march back to their rest area, Latimer confided this thought to Private Jim Carney. Normally, he would have kept such sentiments to himself because “even the faintest praise of the army and its officers was just not done.” But Carney was someone he could discuss emotions with. “I had that feeling too,” Carney replied. Same old hash, but “I was amazed to find that I got a little lift out of it. Of course, I’ve also heard that Monty simply will not rush into anything until he’s completely ready and I think that’s bound to help you feel you have a chance at least.”32
Galloway was less impressed and made the mistake of loosing his thoughts on the rest of the RCR officers later that afternoon. He told them it was “rather ridiculous, making the men march and counter-march throughout the heat of the day and relegating the tactical situation to second place in order to create an audience for Monty’s speechmaking...[It was] hard enough to make the men realize the seriousness of the situation when there was apparently no enemy around, without causing them to lose the proper perspective by listening to a general talk nonsense for fifteen minutes.” Galloway’s comments earned him “a sharp ticking off” from Lieutenant Colonel Crowe.
But the captain was unrepentant, for Crowe immediately turned to discussing a march that was to begin before the day was out. Instead of spending the first part of the day resting and preparing their battle kit, the men had been forced to trudge cross-country to hear a general talk. Actions, Galloway thought, not words, would win the day.33
[10]
Wranglings
GENERAL BERNARD MONTGOMERY had warned the Canadians they would henceforth be fighting only Germans, for by July 14, the Italian forces in Sicily had effectively been eliminated. The 206th Coastal Division had disintegrated, its general surrendering to the Canadians on July 13 at Modica. As for 54th Napoli Division, Generale di Divisione Count Giulio Cesare Gotti-Porcinari had spent July 12 trying to pull his shattered command together. The division’s artillery regiments had largely been overrun or had deserted. One infantry regiment ended the day encircled by the British near Siracusa and the entire divisional line was riddled with gaps and holes. A British patrol slipping through one hole the morning of July 13 surprised Gotti-Porcinari and his entire divisional headquarters, taking virtually everyone prisoner. Napoli Division ceased to exist, the surviving remnants being attached to the Hermann Göring Division. The 4th Livorno Division had been similarly shredded by the Americans. The sailors and troops defending Fortress Augusta, commanded by Admiral Ugo Leonardi, had mostly deserted their posts—leaving the naval officer to surrender the city on the morning of July 12 to a British naval party. Even the Italian high command was left in disarray after a July 13 air raid on Sixth Army headquarters in Enna almost killed Generale d’Armata Alfredo Guzzoni, shattered the building, destroyed most of its signal equipment, and forced a move to somewhere safer.1
Hermann Göring Division’s commander, Generalmajor Paul Conrath, had been disgusted to see that many Italian units, “either led by their officers or on their own, marched off without firing a single shot. Valuable equipment fell into the hands of the enemy in undamaged condition. The good intentions of some commanders and the good appearance of some officers and non-commissioned officers must not lead one to overlook the fact that 90% of the Italian Army are cowards and do not want to fight . . . Future actions to be planned as if there were no Italians at all in the area ... Italians must see as little as possible of our own positions, intentions, strength and formation.”2
“In consequence of the defection of the Italian defence forces in the southeastern part of the island,” concluded one German summary, “operations against the mounting British-American attacking forces [falls] almost entirely to the German formations. The important thing now was to prevent the enemy from thrusting forward to Catania from the Syracuse or the Gela areas, and then with united forces pushing through to the Straits of Messina. At the same time, the strong enemy force that was advancing from Licata toward the north must be prevented from breaking through in the direction of Palermo, thereby making it impossible to bring up those troops still in the western part of the island, and the evacuation of important supplies.”3
While the Italians crumbled, the Germans reinforced their two divisions. First to arrive on July 12 were II Battalion, 382nd Panzer Grenadier Regiment and the Panzer Grenadier Battalion Reggio. These two regiments had been waiting in reserve in southern Italy. The former was attached to Hermann Göring Division and the latter to Battle Group Schmalz, the element of 15th Panzer Division facing the British Eighth Army. More important, however, was the arrival of 1st Parachute Division’s 3rd Parachute Regiment. The 1,817 paratroops jumped from more than one hundred HE-111 transports at 1900 hours onto the Catania plain to join Battle Group Schmalz. The following day, 1st Parachute Division airlifted 1st Parachute Machine Gun Battalion, 1st Parachute Engineer Battalion, 4th Parachute Regiment, and part of 1st Parachute Artillery Regiment to Sicily. All came under Colonel Wilhelm Schmalz’s command.4
Generalfeldmarschall Albert Kesselring and General der Panzertruppen Fridolin von Senger und Etterlin had been on the ground with Schmalz to see 3rd Parachute Regiment’s jump. Kesselring had flown into Enna earlier that day. By the evening, the Commander-in-Chief South had concluded that coming to Sicily had “yielded nothing but a headache. I had seen for myself the total breakdown of the Italian divisions and the tactical chaos resulting from their disregard for the agreed defence plan.”5 Ever optimistic, however, Kesselring believed the situation could be saved if the entire 29th Panzer Grenadier Division was immediately ferried across the Straits of Messina and 1st Parachute Regiment also committed. Even Hitler’s immediate prevarication that forestalled 29th Division being sent to Sicily in whole did little to whittle down Kesselring’s confidence, although having informed Mussolini this division was on the way caused considerable personal embarrassment when it was held back. Kesselring’s spirits were further buoyed when Hitler approved giving overall command for German troops in Sicily to XIV Panzer Corps General der Panzertruppen Hans Valentin Hube.
Nicknamed “Der Mensch” (“the Man”), the fifty-two-year-old Hube had been soldiering since his eighteenth birthday. A wound at the Battle of Verdun had cost him his right arm. At the head of 16th Panzer Division, Hube had carved out a reputation as a brilliant tactician during the German drive across Russia in 1941, which garnered him the Knight’s Cross and Oak Leaves to the Knight’s Cross. Given command of XIV Panzer Corps, Hube was caught in the Soviet encirclement of Generalfeldmarschall Friedrich Paulus’s Sixth Army at Stalingrad. On January 16, 1943, Hube—who had said he would stay and die with his men—was forced at gunpoint by Waffen SS, under Hitler’s orders, to fly out of the rapidly shrinking cauldron. Hube was given the job of rebuilding XIV Panzer Corps, which was transferred in mid-June to Italy. His chief of staff, Oberst Bogislaw von Bonin, considered Hube “a brave soldier, calm, well-balanced, equal to any situation, never in doubt and always ready to take over responsibility.”6
Disinclined to accept Kesselring’s assertion that part of Sicily could be held indefinitely, Hube still did not consider the situation hopeless. For once, Hitler’s direct orders had been clear and concise. Issued on July 13, they simply read: “After the bulk of the Italian forces are eliminated the Germans alone will be insufficient to push the enemy into the sea. It wil
l therefore be the objective of the Germans to delay the enemy advance, and bring it to a halt west of Mount Etna.” The final defensive line was to run southward from Santo Stéfano di Camastra on the northern coast to Adrano, immediately southwest of Mount Etna, and then cut across the southern flank of the volcano to Catania. In the meantime, Hube would establish a series of Hauptkampflinie (main defensive lines) and force the Allies to fight through each in turn at heavy costs in men and matériel.
Augmenting Hitler’s orders came typically precise and cynical instructions from Oberkommando der Wehrmacht (Armed Forces High Command) operations chief Generaloberst Alfred Jodl. While maintaining the pretence that Guzzoni retained command of Axis troops in Sicily, Hube was to “take over the overall leadership in the bridgehead of Sicily itself, while unobtrusively excluding the Italian headquarters. The remaining Italian formations are to be divided up and placed under the command of the various German headquarters.” Jodl added that Hube was to “fight a delaying action and gain further time for stabilizing the situation on the mainland.” Henceforth, the campaign in Sicily was intended to pin down the Allies on the island for as long as possible, while ensuring that German forces survived to fight again on mainland Italy.7
