The Gothic Line
Page 25
LIKE HIS COUNTERPART Major General Bert Hoffmeister at 5th Canadian Armoured Division, 1st Canadian Infantry Division’s Major General Chris Vokes had sought a breakout in depth by pushing a combined armoured-infantry column through a narrow gap in the German forward defences. His column consisted of the 21st British Tank Brigade, the armoured cars of the Royal Canadian Dragoons, and two companies of infantry detached from the Royal 22e Regiment. Brigadier D. Dawnay, 21st Tank Brigade commander, was in overall command and given authority to call on regiments of the 2nd Canadian Infantry Brigade as required for additional strength.12
Vokes’s immediate problem had been to open the gap through which to unleash the armour. In the wake of the West Nova Scotia Regiment’s bloody debacle amid the forward minefields, the only gains by his division on August 31 had been those won by the Princess Patricia’s Canadian Light Infantry on the left flank. Vokes decided to use the PPCLI-held Point 133 as the launch pad for a night attack by the Seaforth Highlanders of Canada on Pozzo Alto. Once the Seaforths seized this village, he would feed other 2nd Canadian Infantry Brigade regiments through to capture Monte Luro and Point 119. This latter objective was on the division’s far right flank, where his divisional boundary adjoined that of II Polish Corps. While 2 CIB effected this penetration in depth, it would fall to the two companies of the Van Doos remaining unattached to Dawnay’s breakout force to seize the ground that had been denied to the West Novas. Once through the forward defenses, the Van Doos would execute a hard right turn, fall on Borgo Santa Maria from the rear, and drive east to Point 131—sweeping the Gothic Line’s entire front lines clear. To make up for the lost companies assigned to Dawnay, one company of the Carleton and York Regiment was placed under Van Doo command.13
The developments on the Canadian front and Vokes’s operational plan were the focus of discussion when I Canadian Corps commander Lieutenant General Tommy Burns met with Eighth Army staff at 1700 hours on August 31. With the Strathconas and Perths snug on Point 204, only the barrier of the Tomba di Pesaro–Monte Luro feature now stood between the Canadians and Highway 16. By cutting across II Polish Corps’s front immediately south of Gradara—a hilltop village with a thirteenth-century castle—Vokes’s flying column could gain the highway and drive straight up the Adriatic coast into Rimini.14
Seaforth commander Lieutenant Colonel Syd Thomson assigned the capture of Pozzo Alto to ‘B’ and ‘D’ companies. Both companies crossed the Foglia at 1726 hours and, once across, ‘D’ Company mounted the tanks of the 145th Regiment, Royal Armoured Corps. When the tanks entered the shell-battered ruins of Osteria Nuova, the infantry dismounted and, together with the tanks, advanced along a narrow track towards Point 133 and the jump-off point for the attack.
The commander of ‘B’ Company meanwhile had strayed off to the right as he tried to lead his men through the confusingly rough terrain. Infantry and supporting tanks drifted east along the lateral road until finally bumping into a pocket of paratroopers. A short fight ensued, ending when twenty-one Germans surrendered. ‘B’ Company’s commander led his men onward along the lateral road until finally stumbling into the outskirts of Borgo Santa Maria, which was a full mile and a half off course from where they were supposed to be. Still in German hands, the town and surrounding terrain were being subjected to Canadian artillery and mortar fire that left the Seaforths dodging their own shells until the company commander realized his mistake. Swinging northward, ‘B’ Company managed to disengage from the Germans defending the village and get back on track towards the regiment’s objective.15
‘D’ Company meanwhile had pushed off from Point 133 towards Pozzo Alto, with its supporting tanks using main guns to pound suspected enemy positions before the infantry went in to clear them. The company plan was to hook into the village from the north and thereby catch the defending Germans by surprise. At 2045 hours, the company attacked the village but was repulsed by an alert and well-prepared force of about one hundred paratroopers. A second attack was similarly repelled. The company sustained twelve casualties. One platoon commander, Lieutenant F. Henderson, who was twice wounded in the attacks, braved the open field in front of the village to gather one of his wounded men up and carry him to safety.16
With no idea where ‘B’ Company and its supporting tanks were, the ‘D’ Company commander pulled back to a position about eight hundred yards from the village to await reinforcement. When ‘B’ Company and its tanks straggled in a while later, the infantry formed a perimeter around the armour in case the Germans counterattacked. Thomson told the two company commanders to await the dawn before renewing the attack.17
ON THE SEAFORTHS’ right flank, the Royal 22e Regiment spent the night teeing up its plan for attacking Borgo Santa Maria in the early morning of September 1. Determined to keep casualties as light as possible, Lieutenant Colonel Jean Allard approached the planning with methodical care. There was to be no sending his Van Doos blundering into the vast minefield. Instead, sappers from 4th Field Company, Royal Canadian Engineers were ordered to use the cover of darkness to clear three lanes through the mines.18
It was a hazardous mission for the engineers, who were clearly illuminated by the light of a bright moon as they moved out at 0100 hours onto the bald ground in which the mines were concealed. Major E.A.N. Prichard and Lieutenant A.C. Ferguson were in command. Just as the sappers started lifting mines, a concentration of misdirected Canadian artillery fire crashed down on them.19 Several sappers were so badly wounded that stretcher-bearers and other sappers had to evacuate them even while the minefield was being torn by exploding shells that were also igniting some of the mines.20 Despite the casualties and the hazards faced by the continuing erratic shelling and their exposure to German fire, the sappers had the lanes completed by 0415 hours.21
While the sappers toiled in the minefield, Allard was finalizing his attack plan. With two of his companies seconded to Brigadier Dawnay’s flying column, the thirty-one-year-old commander had no reserves other than one company drawn off from the Carleton and York Regiment. Knowing it was dangerous to mix together units that had never fought together, Allard wanted to restrict this company’s use to a purely support role. There was the further complication of language—the Van Doos were French Canadian, the Carleton and Yorks English-speaking Nova Scotians. Although Van Doo officers were generally bilingual, most of the men, including the sergeants, were not. So Allard knew he must send ‘B’ and ‘D’ companies into the attack together. If they failed, there would be no reinforcement available and the entire breakout might falter.
Allard planned to push out of the minefield towards a hill designated Point 105, then wheel southeast to take Borgo Santa Maria from the rear. From there, the regiment would strike northeast to a pivotal hill on the outer right boundary of I Canadian Corps’s front. This was Point 131, a feature that dominated the proposed line of advance for the 3rd Carpathian Rifle Division’s cooperative assault against Monte Luro. Gaining control of Point 131 was therefore of critical importance.22 At 0200 hours, Allard convened an O Group. Once the sappers finished clearing the lanes, he said, Captain Yvan Dubé’s ‘B’ Company would carry Point 105 while Major Tony Poulin brought ‘D’ Company up onto a height of land to Dubé’s left. With these points secure, Dubé would attack Borgo Santa Maria from the rear, seize it, and continue his drive through to a secondary objective designated Point 137 that lay southeast of the village. Poulin meanwhile would move cross-country north of the lateral road in a virtual beeline from Point 105 to Point 131.
Allard stressed that Point 131 was vital because it commanded the roads running northward on the Canadian right flank. Its capture, he said, would be “the most difficult of these operations.” He later wrote: “It was an enormous task to undertake with such limited resources. In fact, this 425-foot mountain was the principal point of defence for the sector. It had a number of works which were well dug in and camouflaged and gave the defenders a marked advantage. Since I had no choice at this stage, all I could do was
consider how to provide Poulin with the support he would need.”23 That support would consist of artillery concentrations Poulin could call for by radio. Captain Bill Howarth, a Forward Observation Officer from the Royal Canadian Horse Artillery Regiment, would travel with Poulin to direct this fire.
As the Van Doos in ‘B’ and ‘D’ companies started getting ready in the early morning darkness, they could hear gunfire and explosions coming from the direction of Point 204 where 5 CAD had won a deep lodgement in the heart of the Gothic Line the previous day. The French-Canadian soldiers murmured back and forth that it sounded like the German paratroopers were launching a hellish counterattack against the Canadians there.
THE COUNTERATTACK at Point 204 came just a few minutes after midnight. In their forward observation point on the front slope, privates Stan Scislowski and Jim Heaton were trying to determine if some voices coming from below them were speaking German or English. A few seconds later, a Faustpatrone charge “swished like a Roman candle no more than two feet over our heads, following the angle of the hill in its upward passage. Startled, we whipped our heads around and watched it zoom high up into the starlit sky and then it disappeared as its solid fuel burned up. Now,” Scislowski later wrote, “we had no doubt as to who was down in the valley.”24
Snatching up their weapons, the two infantrymen beat a hasty retreat up the hill to ‘D’ Company’s perimeter. They found everyone there so deep asleep that the passing Faustpatrone round had gone by unnoticed. Nor was the increasingly heavy mortar and artillery fire hitting the hilltop causing anyone to stir. Scislowski and Heaton started shaking men awake, even as rifle grenades began exploding throughout the position in an obvious prelude to the German infantry rushing the position. The exploding grenades seemed to wake everyone in a hurry. The exception was Private Hugh Detlor from Niagara Falls, who was to sleep undisturbed through the entire counterattack.
Sergeant Blackie Rowe quickly ordered the fifteen men of ‘D’ Company’s No. 18 Platoon to occupy a zigzag trench that looked down from the brow of the hill upon the north-facing slope. “I’m not going to holler, ‘Fire,’” Rowe said softly. “When my rifle goes off, you guys open up, d’ya get that?” Scislowski pressed the butt of his Lee Enfield rifle into his shoulder and waited for the Germans to silhouette themselves against the skyline as they crested the hill. Beside him, Heaton manned his Bren gun.
When several shells exploded behind the trench, the dirt wall crumbled and Scislowski’s boots were filled with grit. Then the guns stopped firing and immediately a line of Germans started jogging up the slope. It was the first time Scislowski had seen “the enemy so close, and the first time I was in a position to get in some dead-on shooting. Fifteen fingers twitched on triggers, but not a shot rang out. It was fire discipline at its very best. It surprised me how cool we were as the enemy came towards us in that peculiar half crouch of the infantry. One wave, a second, and then a third emerged from the valley, each about five yards apart. I swallowed hard, but there was nothing to swallow. My throat was dryer than burnt toast, and it wasn’t from thirst.”25
Scislowski wondered what the hell Rowe was waiting on. The first Germans were now only yards away. Then Rowe’s rifle cracked and “an explosion of small-arms fire blazed away at the hapless enemy. The first volley chopped the lead wave down in their tracks. The second wave went to ground but got no shots off as .303 and .45 slugs slammed into their bodies. They were out in the open with no cover. It was pure bloody murder! The third wave was somewhat luckier. Since they were only a few yards away from the lip of the valley, most of them were able to duck down out of the line of fire. Only a few from the second wave were lucky enough to escape. Round one to 18 Platoon, round two coming up.”26
The paratroopers charged head on at No. 18 Platoon a few minutes later and when Rowe’s men hit them with another storm of fire, a rifle slug set off a phosphorous grenade attached to one German’s belt. “He fell to the ground screaming and thrashing about in hellish agony as the chemical slowly consumed his flesh in a phosphorescent glow. His agony lasted only fifteen seconds, because one of our recent reinforcements, Lloyd Querin, let fly a five-second burst from his Bren. The bullets slammed into the screaming man’s smouldering body, ending his agony.”27
As this latest German assault crumbled, a runner from regimental headquarters told Rowe to pull back into the Strathconas’ perimeter. The ground outside the ring of the tanks was going to be smothered by artillery concentrations and No. 18 Platoon was in the line of fire. The platoon was furious about having to surrender the high ground, for, whatever the outcome of the artillery fire, the Germans would surely manage to occupy the trench and then the shoe would be on the other foot for whoever drew the duty of taking it back.28
ALL AROUND THE embattled Canadian perimeter on Point 204, Germans were moving, testing, probing for a weak point. A German self-propelled gun managed to take up a position on a convex slope that was hull down from ‘B’ Squadron’s tanks but provided a line of fire against Lieutenant Colonel Jim McAvity’s headquarters’ section, positioned next to ‘A’ Squadron. McAvity had a perfect bead on the SPG, but a useless wooden gun in his turret. ‘A’ and ‘C’ squadrons were unable to fire on the German target because it stood so close to the tanks of ‘B’ Squadron. Fortunately, although it fired more than a dozen rounds, the SPG gunner proved a hopeless marksman and failed to score a hit.
Then another vehicle crashed directly into the Canadian lines, drawing fire from tankers and infantry alike. The vehicle was a burning wreck by the time everyone realized it was just a farm tractor that the Germans had for some reason rigged so that it would run unmanned down into the position.
The most determined probing, both by infantry and several SPGs or tanks, was directed at ‘B’ Squadron’s perimeter. For the tankers buttoned up inside their Shermans here, it quickly became impossible to sort out among all the infantry milling about who was friend or foe. At times, some of the tankers clambered out of their tanks armed with rifles, submachine guns, and pistols and joined their infantry counterparts in fighting off attacking Germans in vicious hand-to-hand melees.
Hardest pressed were Lieutenant Wayne Spencer’s three Shermans. Manning the tank’s bow gun, which was set up in a slit trench near his tank, Trooper Harold Boettcher held off a number of Germans until the gun stopped working. Drawing his pistol, Boettcher emptied the clip and then ran to a tank commanded by Corporal J.B. Matthews. Boettcher wanted the tank to direct its main gun on the closing German infantry, but Matthews and his gunner were locked in a duel with an SPG that was in a position where its line of fire threatened the entire troop. However, unlike most Canadian Shermans that had the pintle-mounted, .50-calibre Browning anti-aircraft machine gun removed to avoid its tangling in the wires supporting Italian grapevines, Matthews’s tank still possessed the gun. Jumping onto the rear deck, Boettcher yanked the charging lever back on the Browning and ripped off long, measured bursts at the enemy. He stuck to the gun despite being dangerously highlighted by a tank and a haystack that were both burning nearby and suffering several bullet wounds. Finally, his fire drove the paratroopers off. Boettcher was awarded the Military Medal.
‘B’ Squadron’s battle exacted a terrific toll on its officers. All but Spencer were killed or wounded. When the firing finally ceased, Major Bill Milroy, Captain D.G. Munro, lieutenants E.A. McIlwaine and R.A. McKay-Keenan were all wounded. Lieutenant H.V. Gar, who had seen his first combat this day, was mortally wounded. Trooper A.G. Roper was also killed. Another twelve men—most from ‘B’ Squadron—were wounded.29
On the left-hand flank of Point 204, meanwhile, the Perths fought a tangled, deadly battle. When several self-propelled guns seemed on the verge of getting in among the Shermans, Lieutenant Colonel Bill Reid gathered up all the PIAT men he could from ‘B’ and ‘D’ Company and went hunting German armour. Although they scored several hits on the SPGs with the anti-tank weapons, none were knocked out. Reid, however, was struck in the face by shrapnel.
Refusing to be evacuated, he carried on fighting until suffering another wound. This time he agreed to leave the battlefield. Reid won the Distinguished Service Order.30
With the battle on the left-hand side of Point 204 winding down, the attempt to recapture the brow of the hill to the north that Scislowski and his platoon mates had feared got underway. ‘D’ Company, less its PIAT men, was given the job. Captain Sam Ridge put No. 18 Platoon out front with No. 16 Platoon in skirmish order behind and No. 17 Platoon ten yards farther back. The men fixed bayonets and started up the slope. Scislowski hoped to hell that the Germans had been swept right off the hill by the artillery, but he knew better than to bank on this. As they neared the crest, Scislowski realized the entire platoon was starting to bunch up. This was a common but deadly problem common to night attacks, where the ingrained desire to find security among friends outweighs the knowledge that well-dispersed soldiers make less inviting and easy targets. Just as Scislowski turned to caution his comrades to spread out, “a bluish white flash went off close to my right foot, bouncing me half around as though there were coil springs under my boots. In the next instant another flash went off in the air only inches off the top of my helmet.” Scislowski heard no explosions. The next thing he knew he was face down on the ground and waking up. “My helmet was gone and blood was running freely down my face and the side of my head. I felt little pain, but at the rate the blood was flowing I was afraid I was bleeding to death.” Staggering to his feet dizzily, he almost passed out but somehow remained conscious.31
Later he learned that two German grenades had knocked down five men from No. 18 Platoon. Bob Wheatley was dead. The others were all wounded and evacuated. At the 1st Field General Hospital in Jesi, Scislowski was advised his head wound was only superficial. He would, however, need two weeks’ hospitalization.32