by Mark Zuehlke
The enemy tank company approaching Villa Rogatti was 7 Company, 26th Panzer Regiment, commanded by Oberleutnant Ruckdeschel. One and a quarter miles southwest of the village, Ruckdeschel linked up with an officer from the 200th Panzer Grenadier Regiment, but was unable to get a solid report on Canadian dispositions inside the town. The attacking force then advanced on line in a northeasterly direction to the left of the road entering the village. Infantry, formed on either side and to the rear of each tank, provided covering protection. The tanks ground along in low gear, pushing through the olive trees and vineyards, churning the ground beneath the tracks into deep, muddy ruts. Visibility for the tank commanders was zero due to the trees and high vines. The dense fog further restricted Ruckdeschel’s vision to about 100 yards.
Two hundred yards outside Villa Rogatti, Ruckdeschel recorded in an after-action report, the tanks “were suddenly struck by a terrific bombardment. Tank 724 was hit, presumably in the fuel tank and immediately caught fire. The company thereupon responded with counter-fire from all vehicles.”27 Visibility was still so obscured that the German tankers could only fire at muzzle flashes from the British armour. Ruckdeschel thought his tanks faced superior massed tank fire, and seconds later an “intense and well-directed” artillery bombardment started falling. Tank 725 had its right track shot off, 733 was knocked out by a shot through its gears. The remaining six tanks pressed forward in “a series of rushes, at the same time firing rapidly in the direction of the muzzle flashes. . . . In the village a house was on fire.”28 Tank 712 broke to the right and started ripping up a ‘C’ Company platoon with its machine gun. Cutting back to the road, the commander of this tank spotted a British tank on the edge of the village and knocked it out with three rapid shots.
The rest of Ruckdeschel’s company had continued advancing in rushes until it was within fifty yards of the village. The tanks were bringing the Canadian infantry in facing houses under fire with machine guns and their main cannon. Armour-piercing shells were opening holes in the walls, turning the heavy stone into splinters of skin-flaying shrapnel. Tank 721 took several shots from British tanks in its turret. Ruckdeschel noticed another British tank through the smoke and fog, standing silently with its turret directed toward his tank. He assumed one of his tanks had knocked the British machine out of action. Thirty yards from Villa Rogatti, 734’s engine took a direct hit, followed by several other quickly delivered strikes. Ruckdeschel thought this fire came from an antitank gun, but he couldn’t see where the weapon was located. The PPCLI’s six-pounder antitank guns were shooting with amazing accuracy from positions several hundred yards away on the southern ridge of the Moro valley.29
Although the Panzer Grenadiers managed to get inside the village, they faced intense fire and started withdrawing almost immediately. Ruckdeschel decided that continuing the tank attack could only result in the loss of the entire squadron. He ordered a retreat and started gathering in the wounded and “detanked and drifting crews.” Two of the wounded, a radio operator from 721 and its commander Leutnant Meyer, who had been hit by shell splinters after abandoning the tank, were squeezed inside the safety of Ruckdeschel’s tank. The rest of 721’s crew, all slightly wounded by artillery fire, and another tank commander whose tank had been knocked out of action, clung to the outside of the tank’s hull as Ruckdeschel made a hasty withdrawal. Attempts by one of the other surviving tanks to tow back damaged tanks 725 and 733 failed. Ruckdeschel ordered both blown up after being stripped of usable parts.
The tank squadron commander mounted a guard with his remaining force on the road north of Villa Rogatti, in case the British tanks and Canadian infantry attempted to advance. Ruckdeschel’s force had lost five tanks. Three tankers were known to be dead, six were wounded, and five were missing.30 The infantry had taken a worse mauling. All the Germans had to show for the attack was that the 90th Panzer Grenadier command believed the Canadians were now contained in Villa Rogatti and would be unable to break through the encircling, heavily entrenched German defensive line.31
Not that the PPCLI had any immediate plans to undertake a breakout. ‘A’ and ‘B’ companies had borne the brunt of the day’s fight and accounted for most of the battalion’s eight dead, fifty-two wounded, and eight missing. This was the heaviest daily casualty rate the battalion had suffered in the war to date. About half the wounded were capable of walking and plans were underway for evacuating the wounded after nightfall. The PPCLI also had about forty prisoners under guard at battalion HQ.32 Ware estimated enemy dead at about 120.33 Enemy weapons captured included the antitank gun, six 81-millimetre mortars, many machine guns, and three motorcycles, as well as masses of food and clothing.34
At 2130 hours, two officers from the Loyal Edmonton Regiment came forward to discuss with Ware a plan that would see the Eddies moving through Rogatti in the morning and advancing on Villa Jubatti. Two hours later, however, this plan was cancelled and Ware was advised by Brigadier Bert Hoffmeister that if a withdrawal proved necessary, the PPCLI was to fall back across the Moro River.
Ever since joining the PPCLI as a young lieutenant commanding a machine-gun platoon, Ware had dreamed of one day commanding this battalion. He had just led it to the battalion’s hardest-fought victory of the war. He was optimistic the PPCLI could easily hold and expand the bridgehead won on the northern side of the Moro if adequately supported. He was baffled. It was the first thought Ware had given to retreating.35
7
MIXED RESULTS
WHILE the Princess Patricia’s Canadian Light Infantry was successful in throwing back German counterattacks and consolidating its hold on Villa Rogatti during the daylight hours of December 6, the situation for the Seaforth Highlanders of Canada remained stalemated. Finally, Lieutenant Colonel Doug Forin had received word from Captain W.H. Buchanan at 0715 hours that ‘B’ Company was on its objective to the left flank of San Leonardo and taking fire from German heavy machine guns. Had there been radio communication during the night, Forin could have put ‘D’ Company across the river, enabling the two companies to fight their way side by side into San Leonardo. That opportunity was lost. The movement of a company in daylight across the hotly contested valley would yield nothing but casualties.
Meanwhile, small-arms fire kept ‘C’ Company pinned down alongside the road leading up from the Moro to the village. The company, which was well dug in and had suffered no casualties so far, had ceased attempting to advance against the German resistance. Forin knew he was unlikely to break this impasse unless tanks were put over the river to support the infantry. With armoured support, the Seaforths could renew the advance up the road and win entry into San Leonardo. The Seaforth commander’s emotions seesawed between frustration over lost opportunity and anxiety over the uncertain fate of the companies on the opposite shore of the Moro River.1
Everything hinged on tanks. But the British Armoured Brigade’s Shermans, supporting the Canadians until the 1st Canadian Armoured Brigade units reached the forward lines, failed to locate a workable river crossing. Four times that morning the tanks attempted to cross, only to bog down in the soft muck of the riverbed, forcing the abandonment of some of the tanks. In the absence of a proper diversion constructed by the Royal Canadian Engineers, it was obvious that the tanks were incapable of reinforcing the Seaforths. As for the engineers, any daylight attempt to construct a diversion with their bulldozers was deemed suicidal. Instead, the balance of the tank squadron supporting the Seaforths took up position on the southern ridgeline and proceeded to hammer revealed enemy machine-gun posts in and around San Leonardo with cannon fire. In the afternoon, when clear skies gave way to rain and low-hanging fog, the effectiveness of their fire was greatly reduced.2
Meanwhile Forin was amazed to receive a radio request from Buchanan seeking permission to set off and capture La Torre, which the company commander figured was largely ungarrisoned. Given that the hamlet was well to the west of San Leonardo — the objective target — and of no tactical value to the current situ
ation, Forin refused. He ordered Buchanan to shift ‘B’ Company to the western edge of San Leonardo, where it somewhat threatened the Germans pinning down ‘C’ Company. A presumably disappointed Buchanan radioed back that he had prisoners and was sending these back to battalion HQ.3
There was no indication whether ‘B’ Company was moving to ‘C’ Company’s aid, but at 1000 hours Buchanan reported meeting enemy opposition and being “in the process of cleaning it up.”4
Still unsure what exactly ‘B’ Company was up to and seeking some way to get ‘C’ Company back on the offensive, Forin consulted with 2 CIB commander Brigadier Bert Hoffmeister. He told Hoffmeister that if he was supported by a heavy artillery barrage from the 2nd Field Regiment’s twenty-five pounders and the 4.2-inch mortars of the Saskatoon Light Infantry, he would advance ‘D’ Company, what was left of ‘A’ Company after its hard fight of the previous night, and battalion HQ over the river. Once across, this force would link up with ‘C’ Company and make a determined drive into San Leonardo. The two men agreed on the plan, setting the start time for 1400 hours.
Buchanan’s reluctance to break off his advance toward La Torre was motivated by ‘B’ Company’s spectacular achievements. Throughout the morning and into the afternoon the small unit had pressed forward against intense enemy opposition. The Canadian soldiers seemed, Buchanan later related, “inspired and protected.” Time and again they went up against superior, heavily entrenched forces and broke the defences. By 1400 hours, Buchanan had captured fifty-nine prisoners, and killed or wounded more than seventy Germans.
One house attacked by ‘B’ Company had been defended by sixteen machine guns. As the Canadians closed on the building and prepared to blast the defenders out with grenades, a white flag attached to the end of a rifle barrel poked out a window. Buchanan ordered his men to hold their fire. Seconds later, a German officer appeared in the doorway. He and a soldier armed with a light machine gun started walking toward the Seaforth line. When they were very close the two suddenly opened fire with their weapons and the Canadians shot them down. This was the second time Buchanan’s men had faced a flag of surrender used as a deadly shield by the Panzer Grenadiers. The remaining defenders of the building were either killed or driven off during the Seaforths’ renewed attack.
No sooner had they concluded this fight than an Italian boy of about fourteen ran up and pointed out a haystack that he said was actually a bunker containing an enemy machine gun and an antitank gun. As the boy started walking back to cover, he stepped on the igniting prong of a German Schützenmine or S-mine, triggering the spring that caused a canister loaded with 350 ball bearings to jump three feet into the air before exploding. Buchanan and his men rushed to the boy, but he was dead — his body shredded by the deadly charge. Enraged, three of the Seaforths rushed the haystack position, overwhelmed the surprised defenders, and killed them all.5 Buchanan’s men continued to advance, capturing positions, taking prisoners, and suffering hardly any casualties while killing dozens more of the enemy.
While ‘B’ Company’s raid continued and 2 CIB set its plans to conduct a breakout attack against San Leonardo, 1st Canadian Infantry Brigade had also decided to launch another offensive across the Moro River. Major Bert Kennedy, commander of the Hastings and Prince Edward Regiment, convinced Brigadier Howard Graham that a bridgehead could be won at the coastal road to the east of the Seaforths’ debacle. Kennedy’s objective was to move 500 yards beyond the Moro River to seize a junction of the coast highway with a road leading east into San Leonardo. With the junction in Canadian hands, 1 CIB could advance westward to either take San Leonardo independently or support the Seaforth attack. Alternatively, the brigade could advance on Ortona by the coast highway. Major General Chris Vokes approved the plan and Kennedy started finalizing details.
Because they already knew the ground, Kennedy decided to put the Hasty P’s across at the same point used in the night’s abortive attack. This would, however, be no attack by stealth against a well-dug-in and alert enemy. Instead, the Hasty P’s would move forward on the heels of a twenty-minute barrage laid on by 2nd Field Regiment artillery and the brigade’s Saskatoon Light Infantry 4.2-inch mortars. ‘C’ Company would establish a bridgehead immediately upon crossing the river and ‘D’ Company would attack through its position. Once the bridgehead had been established, the rest of the battalion and supporting tanks would cross to expand the position on the north bank of the Moro. The time for the attack was set for 1400 hours.
At 1340 hours, the barrage began precisely on schedule. Twenty minutes later ‘C’ Company moved forward.6
As the Hasty P’s advanced, the Seaforths’ assault stalled before it even began. Just as Forin and his attack force started off, four German tanks were observed rolling into the streets of San Leonardo. The British tank commander, whose guns were to have supported the infantry, informed Hoffmeister his priority was now to bring the enemy tanks under fire. No support could be given to the infantry. Hoffmeister told Forin to scrap the planned attack and prepare for probable withdrawal of his companies from the opposite riverbank.7 The brigadier was now of the opinion that 2 CIB should concentrate its attention on exploiting the success won by the PPCLI at Villa Rogatti, rather than continuing to push forward against the heavy resistance concentrated around San Leonardo. While this discussion was underway, the nearby tanks embarked on a pitched battle with the German armour, both sides ineffectually chucking shells back and forth in the gathering fog.8
Forin was little distressed by the attack cancellation. While the plan had been the only one possible, he had not been optimistic of success. Assuming the Seaforths had managed to take San Leonardo, they would only have been able to hold the village if the engineers managed to build a tank diversion over the Moro during the night. Were the engineers to fail, the battalion would be hard pressed to defend the village against the inevitable counterattacks that would be accompanied by strong armoured support. Unlike at Villa Rogatti, the German tankers would be blessed with some excellent level terrain over which to come directly into the village.9
However, Forin now faced the probability of having to disengage his companies across the river under fire. Further weakened each hour by jaundice, he grew ever more gloomy as he awaited final orders from brigade after Hoffmeister consulted with divisional command. Forin’s depressed demeanour did not go unnoticed by Hoffmeister.10
San Donato was nothing more than a loosely gathered scrabble of stone huts, a small chapel on an escarpment facing the Adriatic, and farmland interspersed between the homes of the twenty or thirty families who called this place home. The coast highway passed through San Donato, which also served as a crossroads for a road branching off to San Leonardo. For the past week, the sound of explosions had increased and sometimes the very earth under fifteen-year-old Anna Tucci’s feet had quivered as if an earthquake threatened. The people of San Donato had looked south toward the distant sounds, wondering if and when the battle would reach them.
As the rumble of the guns crept closer, a few families loaded their belongings into carts, hitched up donkeys or mules, and set off as refugees through Ortona and north toward uncertain safety. Most, however, remained. Where was there to go? Where would be safe? This was their home; if they left, would return be possible? They looked south, made furtive preparations, and waited. At 1340 hours on December 6 the time of waiting ended. War came to San Donato and swept Anna Tucci into its maw.
It started with a hideous banshee wail, followed by an explosion in the fields near one of the houses. Clods of dirt flew up out of the black smoke and flame. Then the shriek of more shells filled the air and explosions blossomed all through San Donato. Immediately south of the Tucci house, the road junction appeared to be literally hurled to the heavens by a terrific bombardment. Anna heard invisible objects hissing through the air outside her family’s home. Everyone in San Donato had made earlier preparations for this moment.
Anna and her family rushed from the house, ran into a n
arrow nearby gully and followed this to caves riddling the escarpment face. The escarpments had always been a warren of caves, a place where children played and parents warned darkly of the danger of being buried in a collapse. In the caves they had hidden food, blankets, and water. The people of San Donato crowded into the small caverns and hunkered there as the ground shook and trembled. Trickles of dirt showered down from the cave’s ceilings and coated them in a light, chalky dust. A few villagers failed to reach the safety of the caves. Their bodies lay like discarded black rags amid the vegetable gardens, olive groves, and vineyards of San Donato.
After twenty minutes, the savage bombardment ended as abruptly as it had started. In its wake was no deathly stillness. Instead, the shriek of falling shells and thunder of explosions was replaced by the distant rattle of machine guns and the softer thump made by firing mortars and tank cannon. Anna huddled in the cave, terrified.11
‘C’ Company of the Hasty P’s was first across the Moro River, following closely in the wake of 4.2-inch mortar fire laid down by the Saskatoon Light Infantry. On the ridge behind, British tanks and self-propelled guns stood ready to pound opposing machine-gun positions as soon as they revealed themselves by firing on the infantry. The battalion’s three-inch mortar company was dropping bombs down the firing tubes as fast as the gunners could work. Two forward observation officers from 2nd Field Regiment were on hand with radios to direct the twenty-five pounders onto enemy concentrations and strong points. The fog was thickening, and visibility was worsening.