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In Peace & War: A Civilian Soldier's Story

10 — The Road to Florence

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10
The Road to Florence

The fall of Rome on June 5 1944 had been closely followed by the opening of the second front, the D Day landings in Normandy, the fighting there and the subsequent break-out in France taking centre stage. Just as the Allied forces in Italy were preparing for an assault on the Paula Line, south of Florence, to be followed by a difficult encounter on the Gothic Line in the rugged Apennines north of Florence, a controversial decision was made to open a new front on the south coast of France. The sorely needed French Corps consisting of four mountain divisions, and a similar number of American divisions, were taken from the Italian Front for this new campaign. They struck little opposition as the south of France was only lightly held by the Germans who would have capitulated, anyway, with the fall of Paris. This put a greater burden on those of us remaining in Italy and, while Churchill did pay a visit at this time, we would have preferred to have kept the troops he pilfered from us, rather than hear his words of praise.

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Towards the end of July, we were to become involved in an all-out assault on the Paula Line with the 8th Indian Division on our left and the 6th South African Division on our right. The New Zealand Division in the centre, deployed the 6th Brigade on the left, 4th Armoured Brigade in the centre and the 5th Brigade on the right. To my consternation, I found that the 4th Brigade was allotted a front almost as wide as each of the brigades on our flanks. With only one infantry battalion, the 22nd had to do the same job as three and four battalions next door to us. The tanks of the 4th Brigade were to be spread amongst all three infantry brigades, so we could not count on more than our share of their support. Moreover, as a motor battalion, we had fewer front line troops than a normal infantry battalion.

Brigadier Inglis, in charge of the 4th Armoured Brigade, called a conference at brigade headquarters to plan the coming night attack with representatives from the artillery, engineers, tanks, machine gunners and ancillary troops in attendance. It soon became apparent the brigadier expected me to conduct the conference, being the only infantry man there. This was a surprise to me as brigade had called the conference and several of those present were senior to me. Moreover, this was my first set piece battle since taking command of the battalion and I was right out of my depth. Concealing my panic, I struggled on.

I had previously decided that, if the battalion was to endure the successive battles ahead, I would only attack on a two company front with one company in reserve and my fourth company back with B Echelon well behind the lines completely out of battle where they could sleep all night without being on standby. Each company was to take its turn right out of the line for a complete rest. I had studied the ground ahead carefully and knew where my two companies would attack and had a good idea where the tanks could page 119 manoeuvre in support of the infantry. I explained my plans to the Orders Group and then asked, in turn, how the artillery, the tanks, the engineers, the machine gunners, the anti-tank gunners and so on could best fit in with this scheme. I was in a sweat, but we managed to sort out things among us and our first attack on July 27 was a complete success with San Casciano taken and casualties in the battalion held to two men killed and five wounded. What a relief.

Prior to our next encounter, I paid a visit to Brigadier Jim Burrows who had recently taken over 6th Brigade which was to attack on our left flank. We discussed our various roles and plans of attack. I pointed out to him we would be thin on the ground as the 22nd had to cope with a front almost as wide as his and we had to attack with only two companies forward compared with his two battalions. He understood my predicament and agreed to keep a watchful eye on his right flank. Here I was pleased to meet up with Lt. Colonel Eddie Norman in command of 25th Battalion. He had been one of my NCOs in the original 14 Platoon in Trentham in January 1940 and I had recommended him for a commission. He had never looked back and was now highly regarded as a battalion commander.

We had two more objectives, to take the villages of La Romola and La Poggiona, which involved set piece night attacks. We could plainly see La Romola perched on a ridge about a mile ahead but the ground was very broken and there was an almost vertical cliff on our immediate front dropping down into a creek bed. This constricted our start line which we were to cross at 1.00 am, both the time and line having been decided by division. Every inch of the ground ahead seemed to be covered by enemy artillery and mortar fire so we knew we were in for a tough night. We were facing two of our most formidable adversaries — 4 Parachute Division and 29 Panzer Grenadier Division, whose tenacious fighting page 120 qualities were well known. They were strongly supported by artillery, tanks, mines and mortars and the ground we had to attack over was tree clad, broken and steep in places.

The large Orders Group had been easier for me to handle this time as we were familiar with one another's problems. I had returned from brigade headquarters and given out orders to my company commanders and support troops, when I had an unexpected call from the general. He laid his map out on the table and pointed to our positions and said: “Now the Maori are going to attack there on your right and the 26th Battalion is going there on your left and I want you to go there,” pointing straight at the impassable cliff I had reconnoitred that afternoon. When the situation was explained to him, he seemed quite happy and went on his way. He must have just been reassuring himself we were on the job.

The ensuing battle was, in my belief, the most horrific encounter the 22nd ever experienced. The opening of our barrage, at 1.00 am on July 31, was the signal for Jerry to open up with everything he had and our casualties quickly mounted. The shellfire, mortar fire and the staccato rattle of his Spandaus filled the air. Major O'Reilly, in charge of one of the assault companies, was wounded in the head near the start line but refused to be evacuated. However, he was unable to carry on with the advance so Lieutenant Len Turner assumed command. Lieutenant Johnny McNeil was killed and his sergeant, Mick Eades, took over the platoon. Mick did such an outstanding job that night that I recommended him for a Distinguished Conduct Medal, and an immediate commission in the field, both of which were granted — a rare honour indeed.

In the darkness, noise, smoke and confusion, Lieutenant Ian Thomas was separated from half of his platoon which had rallied under Sergeant Bill Windsor and they met up again page 121 on the final objective after severe fighting during which Thomas stormed two machine gun posts. He was first to reach the objective and was awarded a Military Cross for his bravery and dogged determination. Sergeant Bill Windsor was Mentioned in Dispatches which, although a gallantry award, is not represented by a separate medal but by the wearing of a bronze oak leaf on the ribbon of a service medal. Meanwhile 2nd Lieut. Scotch Paterson led his platoon, now reduced to 11 men, up a narrow defile until they eventually reached more open ground where they spread out in a line. With conventional covering fire and movement they worked their way up to join with Ian Thomas and his men on the outskirts of the village. Together the two platoons moved on and occupied La Romola itself.

Doug Froggatt was severely wounded and his radio put out of action so, by now, we had lost all communication with the two attacking companies. There were many instances of individuals taking charge of groups of three or four men and pressing on in the dark towards their objective.

Besides the wounded, a steady stream of prisoners was being escorted back, but there was considerable confusion about how the battle was progressing — and most of the news was bad. No 5 Platoon, under 2nd Lieut. Arthur Woolcott, had been given the task of escorting a troop of three tanks up to the objective and had struck many obstacles on the way. They had to detour to the right, and the going was slow. On the way they had to clean out several enemy posts, but the platoon remained intact and managed to escort the tanks to the final objective. This was completed just after first light, much to the relief of those already there. This was a prime example of close co-operation between the tanks and infantry with each appreciating the other's problems.

Lieutenant Len Turner, having taken over Major O'Reilly's company in the height of battle, called a hurried conference page 122 with the three platoon commanders — Lieut. McLean, Sergeant Mick Kenny of Maori All Black fame and 2nd Lieut. Graham Bassett — and their platoon sergeants, and confirmed plans to press on to the objective. This was no easy task for Turner when under heavy shell and mortar fire. The depleted company reached the outskirts of the village just on daylight which gave us six weak platoons with three tanks in support to guard against counter attack. What had appeared to be a disaster on the start line had turned into a complete success due entirely to the heroism and initiative, the sheer cool bravery of the front line troops. My hair which had almost turned grey resumed its normal colour.

When No 5 Platoon carried out a search of the houses in their area, one squad burst open the front door of a house and raced inside while half their men doubled round the side to cover the back entrance. There they stopped dead in their tracks, the hair on the backs of their necks stiffening. They had hurtled straight into the front of an enormous Tiger tank, all 60 tons of it, with its 88 mm gun and two machines guns pointing directly at them. However, they circled slowly round and after they plucked up enough courage to climb onto it over the brutal looking tracks which, to our minds, were designed for crushing people, the hatch lifted slowly and out came the crew with their hands up, saving our chaps the indignity of raising theirs.

Excitement grew when the tank was inspected and found to be intact. This was Hitler's prize weapon, his ultimate tank and lo and behold we had captured one almost new and in good running order. The news soon got back and a tank recovery squad was sent to collect it. The sight of this enemy tank trundling down the road almost caused an evacuation back at B Echelon, and word went round that the Germans had broken through. All was well though and the secrets of Hitler's latest tanks were revealed to our side. On his way up page 123 to join the 22nd, Padre Sergel witnessed the arrival of the tank and the resulting panic but, when he heard an heroic version of its capture, his estimation of his new battalion rose sharply.

We spent August 1 consolidating our position and planning a further attack on the following night involving the Indians on our far left, 6th NZ Brigade on our immediate left and 5th NZ Brigade on our right. The Germans were fighting a rearguard action and had been badly mauled, so no concerted counter attack was mounted against us, but every movement of ours the Germans saw immediately drew heavy artillery and mortar fire.

I had liaised again with Jim Burrows at 6th Brigade headquarters, who was to attack on our left flank, and was concerned to see the effect on him of his command responsibilities. His hair had literally turned white since I had seen him two days before. His plans had been completely successful, but the strain had been punishing. Inevitably in such circumstances, the early news received by a commander about a battle is bad. Casualty numbers and names are the first information to come back, followed by reports of setbacks and hold-ups with frantic calls for the artillery to lift their barrage as only too often, in such broken terrain, their shells landed among our own troops. Jim's face was lined and drawn and I think it was welcome news to him when, some two months later, he received advice of his appointment as rector of Waitaki Boys' High School. He had enlisted as a captain at the age of 35 and sailed with the 1st Echelon. He saw action in Greece, Crete, North Africa and Italy and was to return home with a wonderful record.

I visited as many of the forward troops as possible during the day, being careful not to attract enemy fire, and that night determined to visit the troops manning the outposts. All was quiet and at 9.00 pm I set out on my own to visit the various page 124 company headquarters and then the forward troops. Our training and battle experience had included so many night attacks we were confident about keeping direction, and movement in the dark without lights became second nature to us.

The track was well marked and, having travelled about half way, I came to a well with a circular, two feet high concrete wall round it, set in the middle of a small clearing. Suddenly I heard a swish followed by a loud explosion and, in a flash, I was on the ground. Further explosions followed in quick succession and I realised I was in the middle of a mortar stonk which seemed to go on forever. I was frantically searching for any sort of hollow in the ground but it was all flat so I slithered to get what protection I could from the wall of the well. I can recall thinking to myself over and over, “I want to live, I want to live” and then the stonk stopped as quickly as it had begun. By some miracle, I was unscathed in spite of at least 50 bombs landing all round me, some within six feet.

It was obvious the Germans had previously registered the well as a likely bivouac area for our troops and had hoped to inflict a lot of casualties. It was my bad luck they had opened up just as I was passing. I carried on with my rounds without further incident and then, back at my headquarters, ruminating about what the happened and studying the map, I noticed that the well with tracks converging on it was clearly marked. As our maps were adaptations of Italian ones, it followed that the Germans would be using similar ones and that the well was an obvious target. I warned all my troops that, from then on, they should avoid locations marked on the map when we were within firing range of the enemy. I had learned a useful lesson.

Another maxim of successful warfare was to become painfully evident on the eve of our next attack towards Poggiona, some two miles further towards Florence. We were page 125 given a start line which we were to cross at 11.00 pm on August 1 and it appeared the Germans knew the exact timing and location of our start. Once again, as soon as our barrage opened up, the answering shell and mortar fire thrown at us landed fair and square on our troops. We were well dispersed but, nevertheless, suffered several casualties. It struck me that somehow during the day the Germans had gained access to our intelligence and, had the momentum been kept up the day before without wasting time consolidating, the enemy would not have been able to deploy his guns and register our positions.

We should have been able to use fresh troops to follow up quickly, but our reserves had been taken away by Churchill to open the new front on the south coast of France. To the men on the receiving end of the enemy's hate mail, the result of our delays was painfully obvious and we wondered at the strategy of our senior commanders. Perhaps it could not have been avoided but, in the meantime, it cost us lives. Once again the heroism of the troops came to the fore and men like Corporal Tsukigawa inspired the hard pressed forward troops into almost superhuman effort. For his heroic action this night, he won a well deserved Military Medal. Our troop of tanks under Bill de Lautour was wonderfully supportive with their 75 mm guns proving to be most effective. After hard fighting we reached our objectives on time and in the right place with the enemy in full retreat. From the ridge at Poggiona we could see the lights of Florence twinkling tantalizingly below us.

Back at battalion headquarters, we soon had a visit from Brigadier Inglis who congratulated us on a successful week of heavy fighting during which the 22nd had continually been the most advanced troops on the whole front. He said the way ahead was wide open and, if we wished, he would bring up tanks and transport to enable us to be first into Florence. page 126 This was an enticing and unexpected prospect, but I knew it would be asking too much of my men, who were exhausted and whose ranks were severely depleted, so I declined the offer. I wondered later if I had made the right decision as the men deserved the honour and, maybe, I should have taken the opportunity. Later that day the South Africans, on our right flank, were first to enter the city.

Until the end of August the division manned the line of the Arno River west of Florence, some 30 miles south of the next German defended position — the Gothic Line — which stretched right across northern Italy from Pesaro on the Adriatic coast to La Spezia on the west coast. After a static week on the Arno River, punctuated by exchanges of gun fire, the 22nd was given a week's rest back in our old stamping ground on the Fagnano Estate east of Sienna, where the Terrosi-Vagnoli family received us back with open arms. Kitty was sure her good luck charm had saved my life and she might have been right.

With time to reflect, I wrote a message to the troops which was read out informally at platoon level. The following is the text of that message:

“You have just passed through a period during which every one of you has been put to the test in a way that some have never experienced before. You have stood the test in a manner which has upheld the best traditions of the 22nd Battalion and I am proud of you. We have had our casualties, 116 in all since 2 Company started its successful advance along Route 2 and some of the best and bravest are no longer with us. This is one of the regrettable hazards of war but we shall not forget them.
“There have been many instances of personal page 127 bravery that have come to my notice and many, I'm afraid, which must inevitably pass unnoticed because of the darkness and the fog of war. Some of these men will receive the honour due to them and we thank them for bringing distinction to the Battalion.
“During the battles for Casciano, La Romola and Poggiona, you did, singularly well, the same job as the other two New Zealand Brigades did with three battalions. The strain was severe but you succeeded.
“The 22nd Battalion has fought many engagements through Greece and Crete to the Western Desert and Cassino. Its face has changed from time to time but always there has endured the spirit of its first commander — Colonel Andrew VC. He asked for and obtained the highest qualities of courage and fighting spirit. I should like to tell you that the successes you have achieved in the last three weeks have been as great as any in the Battalion's history and that our old motto ‘Twenty Second to None’ is still as deserved as ever. “You have done this. I am grateful to you.”

In all we had captured over 200 Germans and had accounted for a great many killed and wounded, probably well in excess of the number taken prisoner, so we had given a good account of ourselves.

As we relaxed in wonderful surroundings during that week at Fagnano, we were busy polishing our weapons, washing clothes, writing citations, writing letters home, censoring letters and writing difficult condolences to next of kin. Mail from home was very welcome and the lucky ones also received parcels of special food and clothing.