by Mark Zuehlke
Another explosion drew his attention forward and Kanik watched in horror as Wells’s tank blew up. The stools that the tank commander and gunner sat on in the turret both shot out of the tank and flew about 150 feet straight up into the air. He figured everyone inside had probably been incinerated, as smoke was boiling out of the Sherman.
Behind him, he could see the driver, co-driver, and loader-operator of his own tank bailing out. Just then, another shell hammered into the turret and shrapnel sprayed everywhere. He lost sight of the loader-operator, but saw the co-driver and driver scramble clear and into cover. Seeing some brush nearby, Kanik wriggled through the wheat to the better protection it offered. He was still bleeding profusely, particularly from his chest, face, and legs. The brush was the leading edge of a small wood and Kanik moved carefully through this, looking for help. After a while, he heard some voices speaking English and found a group of tankers that included Major Don Taylor, the ‘C’ Squadron commander.
Kanik stumbled up and said, “Sir, Wells’s tank exploded and everybody’s killed. Our tank was hit but it didn’t burn. Can you send someone to see what happened to the four other guys?” Just then, Wells’s co-driver emerged from the wood and Kanik was amazed to see that he was completely unhurt. “Send somebody to see what happened to the other three guys,” he said.
Taylor replied that he couldn’t send anyone right now, as the squadron was fending off a German counterattack. Once that was dealt with, he would send help. Kanik worried that would be too late for the more badly wounded. He turned to the co-driver and said, “Come on, we got to get those guys.” The co-driver looked anxious. “No, no, Stan,” he said, “we got the ambulance coming.”23
In fact, an ambulance Jeep carrying Regimental Medical Officer Captain Sidenberg was on the way. Within minutes of Kanik delivering his report to Taylor, the ambulance had set out from regimental headquarters toward the position where No. 1 Troop had been knocked out. Unfortunately, at 1530 hours, the Jeep struck a mine and both Sidenberg and his driver were wounded. Shortly thereafter, Taylor dispatched a rescue team to the knocked-out tanks. They found that only Wells and his loader-operator had been killed in the explosion. Wells’s gunner, Trooper Tony Szeler, was seriously wounded. The driver and co-driver miraculously were uninjured, as the tank had not burned. In Kanik’s tank, Marchant was dead and the loader-operator had lost an arm, but would survive.24
Kanik crudely patched himself up and then he and the co-driver walked a mile back to regimental HQ. He felt badly shaken and was still bleeding heavily from an array of surface wounds. The men reached headquarters just as a Jeep ambulance was leaving for the rear with some other wounded tankers. Kanik was loaded on board. When they got back to the Regimental Aid Post, a doctor told him to lie down on a bunk. After giving him a shot of morphine, the doctor said he would be okay and that he would not be operated on at the RAP. He drifted off to sleep, only awakening at 1100 hours the next day to find he was in a hospital in Caserta. The operating room staff had already removed much shrapnel from his wounds and there was a padre standing next to him, as if the man had somehow instinctively known Kanik would awaken that very moment. The padre said, “Write your parents today.”
He remained in hospital for a week, spending hours plucking bits of shrapnel out of his chest and legs with tweezers. When he ran a hand over his chest, Kanik could feel dozens of metal pieces that felt like glass weeping off his flesh. Throughout that week, Kanik often thought back to the events of the day when his tank was knocked out and every time was reminded that his crew had never had a chance to eat any of those German rations.25
Despite the loss of No. 1 Troop, ‘A’ Squadron succeeded in holding the objective against the German counterattack. By day’s end, the Argylls and the Calgary tankers were well dug in and the position secure. On their right flank, ‘B’ Squadron and the Royal Frontier Force Rifles reached the outskirts of Pignataro at 1730 hours. While the tankers shelled the town and called artillery concentrations down on it, two companies of the RFFR worked around the southern side of Pignataro and fought their way in. They then set about clearing it in house-to-house fighting that resulted in heavy German casualties and many prisoners. At 2300 hours, the rubble heap that had been Pignataro was reported cleared of the enemy. The RFFR and ‘B’ Squadron tanks consolidated their hold on both it and a crossroads just to the north.26
On the northern flank of the Calgary Tank Regiment, the Three Rivers Regiment pushed toward the Cassino-Pignataro lateral road with ‘A’ Squadron leading. No. 1 and No. 4 troops under command of Captain F.W. Simard were up front, with No. 2 and No. 3 troops under Captain D.C. Whiteford in reserve. Resistance was scattered but occasionally fierce. Mud continued to be a problem and two tanks became stuck. When Sergeant J. Leslie dismounted from his tank to conduct a reconnaissance on foot, he was killed. Then an armour-piercing round struck Lieutenant J.M. O’Dell’s tank and it burst into flames. Remarkably, the crew managed to escape unharmed.
At 1400 hours, ‘B’ Squadron passed through ‘A’ Squadron and took over. As the tanks followed a sunken road, the tankers heard armour-piercing shot constantly hissing overhead, but because of the road depth their Shermans were below the line of fire and the shot passed harmlessly over them. At 1730 hours, the squadron was on the secondary objective about 300 yards short of the Cassino-Pignataro lateral road. Lieutenant Colonel Fernand Caron decided to throw all the battle squadrons forward on the heels of a ten-minute artillery barrage with ‘B’ left, ‘C’ right, and ‘A’ centre. Lacking infantry support, the tanks would advance at full speed. When the attack slammed forward, German opposition collapsed. A few minutes later, the tanks severed the road.27
North of the Three Rivers Regiment, the Ontario Regiment and the Frontier Force Regiment tried to capture another segment of the lateral road. Two troops from ‘A’ Squadron and two infantry companies led. On the right was ‘B’ Company; on the left, ‘A’ Company. All the tanks were delayed when an antitank gun blocked the only route that could be used to get through some rough, overgrown ground. A detailed attack had to be worked out between tankers and infantry to knock the gun out. The gun and crew were subsequently destroyed and six prisoners taken when the infantry overran machine guns protecting the antitank gun. The advance resumed, with the troop supporting ‘A’ Company fighting its way through numerous machine-gun and sniper positions. As the tanks approached the objective, they managed to surprise and knock out three antitank guns, including one in a heavily fortified house.28
During the sharp engagement to seize the lateral road, the Germans attempted a counterattack. At Three Rivers Regiment HQ, Lieutenant Beach heard the Ontario tankers reporting excitedly that Germans were forming on their left. This gave him pause, since the Ontario left was also Three Rivers’ right flank and the counterattack could pose a hazard to that regiment as well. He reported the radio traffic to Caron, who called for a concentration by two artillery regiments on the cited position. When the shells started falling, the Ontario head-quarters was instantly on the radio demanding the concentration be stopped. Beach reported that his regiment had requested the concentration, but he would stop it forthwith. The Ontario staff officer told Beach curtly that Three Rivers was “not, repeat not, to interfere with their show, and not to bring down arty unless they asked for it. However, five minutes later, it came over the air that the enemy counter-attack had been broken up by arty fire.” Beach felt rather smug about the whole incident.29
As the Three Rivers’ fighting squadrons settled in for the night on the ridge paralleling the Cassino-Pignataro lateral, the reconnaissance squadron started bringing fresh ammunition and fuel supplies forward in its Stuart tanks. The wisdom of not deploying trucks for resupply purposes was brought home to Corporal Gwilym Jones when his Stuart was suddenly struck in the side by a German shell as it approached the slope leading up to the ridgeline. Everyone bailed out fast, with Jones diving headfirst to the ground and somersaulting into some rocks. Seeing the tank unda
maged, Jones limped painfully back to it and they carried on.
Around them, the infantry was moving up to join the tank squadrons, and to the north, battle sounds could be heard, indicating that British 78th Division was making hard headway along the southern slope of Monte Cassino against still-determined resistance. On the way back from the resupply run, Jones saw an infantry officer lying on the ground with wounds in both his legs. He climbed out, picked the man up and loaded him into the tank. As he tried to inject morphine into him, Jones inadvertently jammed the hypodermic needle into his own thumb. On the way back to the rear, Jones held the wounded man in his arms to cushion him from the rough ride while struggling himself to remain awake. The tiredness accruing from days without adequate sleep combined with the morphine to make him feel like a zombie.30
Everyone was exhausted. Beach noted that the battle in the latter hours of May 15 seemed to be running out of steam, “as if both sides had spent their strength and just had to pause and get their breath. It had been a terrific slogging match. Not only tough on the nerves, but practically no sleep, completely worn out men, and officers in particular.”31 Between the heavy casualties suffered by XIII Corps and the supporting armoured brigades and the exhaustion of those men who were still combat ready, it was obvious the corps, particularly 8th Indian Division and British 4th Division, had pretty much shot its bolt.
Eighth Army commander General Sir Oliver Leese had been seeking the perfect moment to order I Canadian Corps to pass through XIII Corps. The trick was to identify not only when XIII Corps was played out, but also to anticipate the point at which the German battalions in the front lines were reeling from a combination of exhaustion and heavy casualties. If he struck before Kesselring decided to funnel significant reinforcements into the front line to shore up the defence, the Canadians could crack through with such force that they would not be stopped.
The current situation was hardly propitious. True, 8th Indian Division had decisively broken the Gustav Line from San Angelo south to the Liri River. The German defenders in that sector were disorganized and so reduced by casualties and men surrendered that their ability to resist was negligible. Yet, in the sector between San Angelo and Cassino, the British 4th and 78th divisions were making slow headway, often intermingled and mired in congestion as units from each tried to advance along the same few functional roads or tracks. German resistance in this sector remained tenacious. Was this the moment to play his trump card by sending I Canadian Corps forward? Or should he wait for the divisions on XIII Corps’s right flank to wear down the Germans there further? Leese decided to play the Canadian card now.
His decision was prompted by the realization that if he could drive far enough forward into the Liri Valley, the Germans’ possession of Monte Cassino and Monte Cairo would be outflanked. Further, the unrelenting grip the German paratroopers had inside a fragment of Cassino’s ruins must then be withdrawn or left surrounded. Leese contacted Lieutenant General Tommy Burns on the evening of May 14 and ordered I Canadian Corps forward. Burns’s first task would be to advance from the Cassino-Pignataro lateral road to the Hitler Line.32
Anticipating the order, Burns was more than ready for action. In the initial planning for the Canadian role in Operation Diadem, two scenarios had been envisioned. The first was that XIII Corps would rapidly break through the Gustav and Hitler lines. At this point, I Canadian Corps would pass through and race directly up Highway 6 toward Rome. This was the “pie-in-the-sky” scenario. More realistically, both Burns and Leese had developed an alternative scenario whereby heavy opposition slowed XIII Corps and a breakthrough seemed in question. At this point, the Canadians would come up on XIII Corps’s left flank and advance up the valley on a front paralleling the other corps. It was this strategy that Burns was to initiate.33
The Canadians were to relieve 8th Indian Division and advance westward on a front extending from just north of Pignataro south to the Liri River. To their right, 78th Division would continue its drive forward with its right flank anchored hard against the base of the northern mountains. The 1st Canadian Infantry Division would lead the Canadian Corps’s drive, while 5th Canadian Armoured Division remained in readiness to assume the lead once the Hitler Line was severed. The 25th Army Tank Brigade would provide 1 CID’s armoured support.34 However, until all regiments in that brigade could move into position, the Three Rivers Tank Regiment would support the immediate right-hand flank attack carried out by 3rd Canadian Infantry Brigade.35
It would take approximately thirty-six hours for 1 CID to completely relieve 8th Indian Division, so Burns scheduled the renewed offensive for May 17. Meantime, 78th Division would pick up the pace. Burns left it to Major General Chris Vokes to deploy 1 CID.36 Vokes visited Major General Dudley Russell early on May 15 to hammer out the details of the takeover. Russell told Vokes that the enemy consisted primarily of remnants of the 44th German Infantry Division and that, with Pignataro in his hands, the relief should proceed smoothly. Vokes agreed, saying he would bring his division across the Gari River bridges on successive nights by brigades. The 1st Canadian Infantry Brigade was already on the move and would cross that very night to relieve 19th Indian Infantry Brigade. The following night, 3rd Canadian Infantry Brigade would relieve 21st Indian Infantry Brigade. Until 3 CIB completed the relief in its sector, the two brigades would be under Russell’s command to ensure better control. Once the relief was complete, Vokes would take command, retaining one of Russell’s brigades until 2nd Canadian Infantry Brigade crossed into the bridgehead on the night of May 17–18. Before the meeting ended, Russell gave Vokes “a glowing account of the superlative tank support which had been given his troops by the 1st Canadian Armoured Brigade.”37
While his meeting with Russell was taking place, two of Vokes’s staff officers, Major George Rennison and Lieutenant David Dickie were reconnoitering a forward site for divisional headquarters near the Gari River. When the men finished, they were to join Vokes at Russell’s HQ. After waiting for several hours, an impatient Vokes decided to leave without the two men, but just as he prepared to depart it was reported that their Jeep had blown up on an antitank mine. Dickie and a lance corporal from the Provost Company were dead and Rennison and the driver badly injured. As part of Vokes’s personal team, all four men were close to him. For a few minutes, he was badly shaken. Then Vokes quickly submerged his grief and got back to business. He later wrote: “Thirteen thousand officers and men of my division were waiting to enter the Liri Valley and embark on offensive operations which might result in death and injury to several thousand of them. My one and only aim was to direct them in such a way the casualties could be kept to a minimum.
“I had learned in the hard school of experience in battle, one could not afford to grieve for lost comrades. One had to adopt the philosophy a man’s fate is written the day he is born, and no amount of dodging can avoid it. If one is destined to die or suffer injury in war one must accept it and not worry about it.
“Without this personal philosophy I could not have carried on as a soldier in command of troops, knowing full well when they entered battle under my command the inevitable result in human sacrifice. War is a dirty business at the best of times and the whole object in battle is kill or be killed.”38
About the same time that Vokes was masking his emotions, Corporal Gwilym Jones of the Three Rivers Regiment was on a mission to recover the body of a fallen comrade, Wally Burnett. Staggering with exhaustion and the effects of the morphine dose, he led the two Stuarts in his patrol to where his friend had reportedly been killed. The Gurkhas, Jones discovered, had already buried Burnett wrapped in a blanket and interred standing straight up in accordance with their customs. Jones got permission from their commander to disinter Burnett and move him to a graveyard for Canadian dead. Most of the Canadians were being interred communally in a series of German bunkers, but Jones wanted Burnett buried apart. When his group set to work with their shovels, the blades just bounced off the solid rock. They resorted t
o using hand grenades to shatter the rock. Finally the hole looked deep enough and Jones went to fetch the Three Rivers’ padre to lead the burial ceremony.
Jones returned shortly with the padre, who bent down and checked Burnett’s identity disks. “Un juif,” he declared and said he would not bury a Jew. Jones saw his men were both tired and angry, even though most were French-Canadian and, like the padre, Roman Catholic. A dark rage descended on him. Drawing his revolver, Jones pointed it at the priest’s chest. “Padre, you bury him or we’ll bury you,” he snapped. The padre quickly got down to business.
At dawn, Jones was summoned into the presence of Lieutenant Colonel Caron. When he arrived, the regimental sergeant major was jumping around as if he were on a hot griddle and demanded to know what the hell Jones had done. Jones told him drily what had occurred and the RSM escorted him inside without further word. In Caron’s office, nobody asked that he remove his black tanker’s beret so Jones kept it on, realizing he had not yet been placed on a charge. The padre was present, standing next to Caron, and so was Major Grey, the second-in-command. Given all the rankers present, things looked pretty serious.
Caron was blunt. He asked what had happened. Jones didn’t sugarcoat anything. He told what he had done and how the padre had prompted his action. Caron gave no sign of his frame of mind. He just told Jones to return to his tank. But as Jones was leaving, he heard Caron say to the padre, “I want to talk to you.” Within hours, the padre vanished and nobody knew his fate. The French Canadians awarded Jones a nickname he thought praiseworthy: Le Maudit Gallois or The Welsh Devil. And rather than being punished, Jones soon received a promotion to troop sergeant.39
