by Mark Zuehlke
Meanwhile, Rawlings’s men were blocked by machine-gun and rifle fire. Seeing the tanks in trouble on the left-hand side of Spalla Bassa, the company hastily withdrew, crossed the gully, and scrambled to their aid. Arriving too late to save the tanks, Rawlings could do nothing in the face of the gunfire directed at his company but order his men to dig in. He reported back to Johnston that without more tanks there was no way the company was going to get up on the ridge.
Everywhere on the Highlanders’ front, the Panzer Grenadiers were wreaking havoc with the new Faustpatrones. When ‘A’ Company advanced to support ‘D’ Company, it took three more tanks with it. Once again, poor communications resulted in that troop’s wandering off on its own and two were promptly knocked out, but the other tank managed to get through.
Having rushed over to Rawlings’s embattled company, Johnston realized that until the ridge was cleared, further advance up the road would leave his men dangerously exposed to attack from the right flank. He sent ‘B’ Company and another tank troop up the right side of the gully and ‘C’ Company up the left side. This time, the attack succeeded. ‘B’ Company gained the ridge and sent a patrol to two houses that soon proved to contain stout German defensive positions. Captain Jack Wilson, commander of ‘B’ Company, decided to break up the house on the right with artillery while his men and the tanks cleared the left house. The tankers, wary of Faustpatrones, refused to close to a distance closer than 400 yards from the house. Wilson spent a fruitless ninety minutes vexed by poor radio contact with the supporting artillery regiment trying to score a hit on the house.27 Finally he said: “To hell with the artillery, we’ll go under cover fire of the tanks even if they can’t hit the houses.”28
Wilson figured his men could come at the left-hand house from an angle that would screen it from any fire issued by the Germans concentrated in the house to the right. In the rapidly failing light, his men went forward, the attack supported by a large volley of machine-gun and high-explosive fire from the tanks. At first, the opposition seemed to be only about two or three heavy machine guns, dug in under the house. But as the soldiers drew nearer, they moved into a hornet’s nest of light machine–gun fire that drove them to ground. With the infantry now between the tanks and the German position in the house, the British tankers could offer no further assistance. Nervous that the approaching darkness would serve to conceal tank-killer teams armed with the deadly rocket launchers, the tanks fled. When it became dark enough, ‘B’ Company followed their example, falling back to a position on the ridgeline.
As night closed in, ‘A’ and ‘D’ companies reached their objective on the eastern bank of the Forme d’Aquino. They were joined by the lost company from the Hastings and Prince Edward Regiment, which had been fighting its own private, unplanned battle throughout the day just to the right of the Highlanders. ‘D’ Company of the Hasty P’s had taken twenty-five prisoners during its journey but had lost one man killed and another seriously wounded.29
Concerned that the Panzer Grenadiers would counterattack, Johnston rushed antitank guns and mortars up to support the three companies. They arrived just in time, for, at 2200 hours, tracked vehicles were heard coming down the road toward a bridge crossing the stream that had not been blown by the retreating Germans. One of the 6-pounder antitank guns, commanded by Sergeant Robert James Shaw, was quickly shifted to cover the road and the 2-inch mortar team started popping flares into the sky. Under the flare light, Shaw saw what looked to be three enemy tanks or self-propelled guns (SPGs) coming up the road with a thirty-strong platoon of infantry in support. He was relieved to realize the vehicles were open-roofed, fixed-position .75-millimetre guns mounted on tracks and surrounded by a light armoured body, rather than the more heavily armoured tanks.
When the lead vehicle reached the narrow, wooden bridge, it paused on the entry ramp. The commander appeared to be belatedly realizing that the rickety bridge would not support the weight of his SPG. When the second gun promptly stood on the commander’s tail, blocking any quick withdrawal, Shaw opened fire.30 The shell struck the second SPG’s fuel tank. The vehicle burst into flames and its ammunition started cooking off in massive explosions. This left the lead gun trapped by a smoking wreck behind and a worthless bridge in front. Shaw fired on the leading SPG and missed. Both surviving SPGs started firing back and shells cracked overhead as Shaw adjusted his aim, but missed again. Undeterred, he punched out a third shot that wrecked the leading SPG. The crew bailed out, but was cut down by Bren gun fire.31 While the third SPG withdrew to cover, from which it began firing on the Canadian position, the infantry rushed ‘D’ Company’s flank. Counsell let them get into the stream and then his men showered the Germans with Type 36 grenades. The counterattack crumbled.32 Shaw was awarded the Military Medal for his bravery.
Despite the ferocity of the day’s fighting, the regiment’s casualties were remarkably light: eight killed and eleven wounded, with no losses among the officers.33 More important, even with all the confusion between the infantry and the tankers during the fight to cross the Spalla Bassa, the regiment had reached the Forme d’Aquino and was well positioned to renew the fight in the morning.
Back at 1st Canadian Infantry Division headquarters, Major General Chris Vokes was little impressed by the day’s performance. “The forward progress of both brigades was too slow for my liking,” he later wrote. “Granted the enemy resistance was stubborn but he was very thin on the ground and in many cases his small pockets of resistance should have been more quickly liquidated. Much of the sluggishness in the forward infantry was due to inexperience in the assault as for many of the officers and men who had joined the division as reinforcements during the winter it was their first experience of offensive action. It had to improve and I instructed both Spry and Bernatchez to see to it.”34
He suggested that wherever possible the brigade should advance with two battalions out front and one in reserve to “reinforce the soft spots. Thereby they would have an opportunity to envelop any pockets of resistance encountered.” Although 2nd Canadian Infantry Brigade was now across the Gari River, Vokes decided neither to have it relieve one of the forward brigades nor to commit it in order to shorten the front the brigades faced. Rather, Vokes intended “to maintain this brigade in reserve as long as possible and to employ it in the assault against the Hitler Line should a prepared, deliberate attack to breach it become necessary.”35
Elsewhere on the battle front, events had gone well for the Eighth Army on May 17. The Poles had attacked Monte Cassino and were well ensconced on the lower slopes and in several strategic points close to the abbey itself that left the bastion nearly encircled. Expectations ran high that the abbey would fall in the morning. The British 78th Division had also fared well, advancing two miles west of Cassino on the southern flank of Highway 6. The town of Cassino was now no longer militarily significant, although there were still some pockets of fanatical paratroopers dug into strongpoints who appeared determined to fight to the death. However, I Canadian Corps intelligence staff reported that the British had taken prisoners from No. 3 and No. 4 companies of the 4th Paratroop Regiment, indicating that the “Cassino force is already on its way out. Certainly 4 Para Regiment’s position in the town is precarious, and it must extricate itself tonight or be completely cut off.” Counterattacks directed at Polish positions on the slopes of Monte Cassino immediately overlooking the town must, believed the intelligence officers, “have as their object the keeping open of a route of withdrawal for the parachutists in the town. Their daring in remaining is remarkable, but even parachutists must realize that ‘to stand fast and hold their ground,’ though the wish of Heidrich, in this situation would be folly. Tomorrow should see both 3 Para Regiment down from the hills northwest of the town and 4 Para Regiment clear of the town itself.”36
It was apparent the Germans now had no option but to fall back to the Hitler Line, and intelligence staff saw no sign that reinforcements had arrived from the north to bolster the defensive force
available to defend it. Instead, only the weary units currently falling back from the shattered Gustav Line appeared available and that “left no complete formation to man the Hitler Line.” A battle group drawn from the Anzio bridgehead was the most available source for immediate reinforcement of the new line and Canadian intelligence officers pegged 29th Panzer Grenadier Division as the likely candidate. If 1st Canadian Infantry Division and 78th Division could advance fast enough, they might bounce the line before the disorganized Germans could harden their defences. This was the hope for the morrow.
THREE
THE HITLER LINE
12
DON’T LET IT GET YOU DOWN, CHUM
Creating enough space in 3rd Canadian Infantry Brigade’s front line to mount a two-battalion-wide attack meant the Royal 22e Regiment had to conduct a three-mile night march north to come up alongside the Carleton and York Regiment. The troops marched toward a small vale, the western edge of which would form the start line for the morning attack. ‘B’ Company commander Captain Pierre Potvin noted that his men, though dirty and exhausted, groused little about spending the night on the move. En route, the regiment brushed aside scattered pockets of German resistance, but suffered no casualties.
The men were hungry as well as weary, having received no rations since yesterday’s attack. At 0500 hours on May 18, a wireless message instructed the troops to break into emergency rations. A popular joke held that the biscuits were “hard enough to break the tracks of a tank.” Potvin was not surprised to find that many of the chocolate bars were mysteriously missing from the men’s packs. “Tough luck,” he told those who said their bars had somehow been lost.
Fortunately for everyone, a few minutes after the order to delve into the emergency rations was received, another rescinded that instruction and reported that Major Fernand Trudeau had slipped two ration-laden Jeeps into a column that was supposed to bring only ammunition forward. Each man received two cheese sandwiches, a tin of bully beef, and some hardtack that was somewhat softer than the emergency-ration version. Potvin thought the ration “not a hell of a lot for men who have trudged all day and were shortly to go into the attack.”1
Not long before dawn, the R22eR reached the vale and took up a position astride a sunken, dusty road overlooked from the west by the high ground that was its first objective. Brigadier Paul Bernatchez came up at 0600 hours to discuss the day’s plan with Lieutenant Colonel Jean Allard. As the two officers were talking, German small-arms fire started kicking up dirt around them and the soldiers in their respective entourages dived for cover. Bernatchez and Allard never budged. The brigadier snapped, “Get that nonsense stopped, will you.” Allard glanced over his shoulder toward Potvin crouching nearby. “See to it, Pot, will you.” Potvin rushed one of his ‘B’ Company platoons toward the grove concealing the German snipers, who promptly ran off.2
Of concern to Allard and Bernatchez was how the regiment would cross the Forme d’Aquino. According to the maps, it widened significantly in front of the regiment’s planned line of advance. Finally, after ordering the regiment to start moving generally in the direction of the river, Allard climbed into his Jeep. With his driver, Private Denis, and batman, Private Bujold, he set off to find a river crossing.3 Fearing his commander was going too far in disregarding personal danger, Potvin hurriedly loaded a couple of men from his platoon into another Jeep and took off in pursuit. Soon the small reconnaissance party was more than a mile ahead of the regiment, both Jeeps leaving a thick cloud of dust in their wake. Peering through the dust and knowing it marked their position to any enemy observation, Potvin was alarmed to recognize the silhouette of an armoured scout car coming down an intersecting track toward them. There was no way he and two infantrymen armed with rifles could win a fight against an armoured car. Potvin sighed with relief when he saw that the armoured car was Canadian and the head and shoulders sticking out of the open turret were none other than Bernatchez’s. The brigadier, too, sought a river crossing.
The now reinforced reconnaissance party hurried on to the river, which at this point was about thirty feet wide and ten feet deep. Three-foot-high vertical banks rose up from the water’s edge. Potvin realized the river formed “a definite obstacle for vehicles, and likely the infantry as well.” The officers stared in frustration at the river, knowing it could seriously delay the regiment’s advance to the Hitler Line if they had to wait for a bridge to be constructed. “Meanwhile,” Potvin stewed, “the Germans would surely put this time to good use, getting ready for us when we did get across. We could expect to fight them on the river banks and that must mean ‘curtains’ for many brave men.”
Allard told the party to split up and “find a crossing place, a ford where the water is not deep, a foot bridge, or something to support at least an infantry crossing.”4 Allard’s Jeep went one way and Potvin’s the other. Bernatchez, seeing Allard had matters in hand, returned to 3 CIB headquarters. Soon Allard was on the radio reporting that he had found a small flour mill that straddled the river. Potvin raced to meet him. A wooden shack with high doors stood astride a narrowing in the stream. Approaching the shack from either side was a deeply rutted track, indicating that it had been used as a local farm crossing. The plank floor appeared strong enough to bear military vehicle weight. If the doors were torn off the building, Allard thought Jeeps towing antitank guns and hauling four-inch mortars could get through. Potvin was amazed the Germans had not blown up the building.
Several Italian farmers emerged, seemingly from thin air, to report that there were no Germans on the opposite bank. They also said that the shack was not booby-trapped, information soon corroborated by the regiment’s pioneers. While the pioneers started ripping off the doors and improving the approaches to the shack, Allard’s group crossed the bridge on foot. The lieutenant colonel wanted to see if the area was indeed clear of Germans. Encountering no opposition, Allard set up his headquarters in a small cluster of houses on top of a low rise. At 1500 hours, the regiment was all across the river and formed up around the houses.
Returning to ‘B’ Company, Potvin led the regiment’s advance. Under the scorching sun, the men sweated beneath the weight of their gear and from tension as they moved through groves and across small wheat fields. The sudden crack of gunfire or explosion of shells that they feared did not materialize.5 By 1640 hours, the Van Doos were in an olive grove, looking down on the Hitler Line about one mile away. From this distance, it appeared as no more than a thick tangle of barbed wire following an irregular path across the width of the Liri Valley. Allard ordered his weary troops to dig in for the night.6
The smooth advance indicated the Germans were surrendering the terrain in front of the Hitler Line. A radio bulletin from I Canadian Corps headquarters told Allard that the Corps Expéditionnaire Français had punched through the Hitler Line’s less heavily fortified section in the southern mountains and was now behind it. High command thought this would force the Germans to abandon the entire line. In the morning, 1st Canadian Infantry Division’s regiments were to reconnoitre the facing sections of the Hitler Line in force and, if possible, break through. Allard thought high command was being too optimistic and insufficiently pragmatic. The front was too calm for his taste. He believed the Germans were inside the Hitler Line in force and lying ready to pounce on the unwary. In their place, Allard would never surrender such fortified positions without a serious fight — turned flank or not. He unhappily learned that the only support allotted for the morning would be a single artillery battery and one British tank squadron.7
Like the Van Doos, the other regiments of 1 CID had enjoyed relatively easy advances against only light opposition. Once crossings of the Forme d’Aquino had been constructed by the division’s engineering parties, tanks were able to support the infantry. By nightfall, both 1st and 3rd Canadian Infantry brigades stood about one mile from the Hitler Line.
Only the 48th Highlanders of Canada had tripped any opposition. At 1500 hours, Lieutenant Dave Duncan and two m
en were far ahead of the leading company and moving single file through tall stands of grain. Duncan led, followed by Private Leo Halstall, while Private H.E. Creswell played tail-end Charlie. Suddenly seeing a German soldier sleeping soundly in the tall grain, Creswell shouted a challenge to alert Duncan and Halstall to the danger and then covered the Panzer Grenadier with his rifle. Literally from under Duncan and Halstall’s feet and completely surrounding them, about forty soldiers in German field grey jumped to their feet with guns at the ready. Creswell could do nothing to help Duncan and Halstall, so he grabbed his prisoner and fled. Duncan and Halstall were led off in the other direction to spend the rest of the war in a prisoner-of-war camp.8
Although each day’s battle resulted in a few Canadians’ being taken prisoner, the number of Germans captured was much higher. May 18 alone netted 1 CIB about 200 prisoners. Major General Chris Vokes was pleased by the number of prisoners taken and “was well satisfied with the progress of both brigades as there was none of the tactical sluggishness, which had been apparent on the previous two days.”9 He visited both Bernatchez and 1 CIB’s Brigadier Dan Spry at their respective headquarters, telling them to “close up to the enemy wire during the night and mount a series of probing attacks on the morrow.” Vokes hoped to establish a lodgement inside the Hitler Line that could be expanded into a full-blown breakout. Failing that, the probes should yield vital information about the fortifications and enemy strength that would help his staff mount a more carefully planned attack. So far, intelligence on the Hitler Line was woefully inadequate.
