Hitler's Raid to Save Mussolini

by Greg Annussek

  If Skorzeny is to be believed, the Elba lead originated with the Abwehr, the spy network run by the German military and headed by Admiral Wilhelm Canaris. It was roughly analogous to the foreign intelligence wing (Amt VI) of the RSHA. The Abwehr and Amt VI were separate organizations with similar agendas, and the lines of demarcation between them had always been gray.44 For years, the rival agencies had competed with each other for Hitler’s favor.45 Indeed, pitting his own subordinates against each other was almost a matter of policy for Hitler.46 As wasteful and inefficient as it was, this philosophy of “divide and rule” had made it easier for the Fuehrer to control his henchmen: It was the totalitarian counterpart of a democracy’s checks and balances.47

  This ongoing struggle for power within Nazi intelligence circles—which pitted the regular German military against the SS— took a strange and unexpected turn when Canaris, who was a notoriously enigmatic figure, secretly began to turn against Hitler and Nazism. The spy chief had apparently come to see the evil of Hitler’s ways—or perhaps simply the inevitability of Germany’s demise under the Fuehrer.

  If Canaris really did try to thwart Operation Oak, as Skorzeny later implied, this effort may have been part of a broader campaign designed to shield the Badoglio regime from Hitler’s wrath. According to Walter Schellenberg, Himmler’s top SS spook in the RSHA, during the summer of 1943 Canaris was working in the shadows to aid Badoglio in his covert war against the Germans. Canaris accomplished this, allegedly, by reassuring the Nazi leadership that the loyalty of the new Italian regime was beyond reproach.48

  Schellenberg—who was Canaris’s rival and mortal enemy— soon got wind of this activity, which he deemed nothing less than treasonous. He had made it his life’s mission to bring down Canaris, but the latter managed to escape the clutches of the dreaded SS for another year.

  Whatever the reasons, during the last week of August Hitler was apparently convinced that Mussolini was hidden away either on Elba or somewhere close by.49 In light of this development, General Student thought it best to meet with Hitler in person and argue the case for La Maddalena.50 Student spent much of August, it seems, flying back and forth between Rome and the Wolf ’s Lair, often with witnesses in tow, to update Hitler on the search for the Duce. On this occasion, he brought along his SS partner because he wanted Hitler to hear the details of their La Maddalena reconnaissance “directly from Skorzeny.”51

  They arrived at Fuehrer Headquarters in late August. Skorzeny found himself in the same room in which he had met Hitler several weeks earlier, and the atmosphere was probably just as imposing. According to Skorzeny, some of the most prominent figures of the Third Reich were seated at a large table. Flanking Hitler on each side were Marshal Wilhelm Keitel; General Alfred Jodl; the foreign minister, Joachim von Ribbentrop; the SS chief, Heinrich Himmler; General Student; Admiral Doenitz; and the Luftwaffe chief, Hermann Goering. After some discussion, Skorzeny got the nod from Student to make his presentation.

  He was intimidated at first, but managed to explain “in a simple and clear way” how he and his colleagues had concluded that Mussolini was on La Maddalena: “I also described the terrible adventure of our teetotaler Warger. Goering and Doenitz smiled. Himmler’s gaze remained ice-cold, and Hitler wore a rather ironic look.”52 Skorzeny spoke for about thirty minutes, after which Hitler shook his hand and announced that he had been persuaded. “Hitler was now finally convinced,” Student recalled. “He gave [me] freedom of action again.”53

  Student and Skorzeny also outlined their plans for a rescue operation, which had been developed in conjunction with Captain von Kamptz and Commander Max Schulz, the latter being in charge of the German motor torpedo boats in the Mediterranean. The assault was designed to exploit the all-important element of surprise and the fact that German ships were fairly common in the waters surrounding Sardinia.

  On D-day, several German minesweepers, covered by motor torpedo boats with 20-mm cannon, would swoop into the harbor and disembark the assault force. These soldiers would then head for the Villa Webber, overwhelm the 150 or so carabinieri they believed were guarding the Duce, and storm the building.

  Telephone lines at the villa would be cut to prevent Mussolini’s guards from summoning reinforcements. Special squads would capture the guns guarding the exit of the port and disable a Red Cross seaplane, believed to be a getaway vehicle for the Duce, and its two fighter escorts, which were moored close to the shore. Once Mussolini was safely in German hands, he would be hustled away on board one of the escaping motor torpedo boats.*

  According to Skorzeny, Hitler approved the plan and authorized its execution.* He then drew Skorzeny aside to issue a private admonition. “Something else, [Captain] Skorzeny,” Hitler said. “It’s possible that at the time that you carry out your operation, the new Italian government will still, officially at least, be our ally. Therefore if the attack fails, or if Mussolini is not on Santa Maddalena, I might be forced to disapprove of your action publicly. In that case you will have acted on your own and not informed your superiors. I hope that you understand that I will have to punish you against my will in the event of failure?”54 Skorzeny accepted the proviso.

  After their meeting with Hitler, Student and Skorzeny hurried back to Rome to work out the details for the raid on La Maddalena, which was scheduled for sometime near the end of August. “All preparations were rushed forward,” Student remembered.55 Every passing day increased the risk of failure, for no one could be sure that the Duce would still be on La Maddalena at the moment the Germans came crashing through the doors of the Villa Webber. Worried about such a possibility, Skorzeny and Radl, accompanied by Lieutenant Warger, decided to visit the island and do some final checking just twenty-four hours prior to D-day.

  Dressed as German sailors, Skorzeny and Warger grabbed a basket of dirty laundry and made their way into Maddalena town to the house of the local washerwoman. There, they struck up a conversation with another customer, a member of the Italian carabinieri. When Skorzeny steered the conversation toward the subject of Mussolini, the man seemed uninterested. Skorzeny got a rise out of the Italian only when he asserted that the Duce had gone the way of the ancient Caesars.

  “No, no, signore, impossibile!” he protested. “I saw the Duce this very morning. I was one of the men who escorted him on board the white plane in which he left here.”56

  The words stung Skorzeny because his gut told him that the Italian was telling the truth. What was worse, the story seemed to check out. Skorzeny looked for the Red Cross seaplane and discovered that it was gone. There were still some carabinieri guarding the Villa Webber, but he could see that they were manning their posts in a noticeably casual manner. According to Radl, some of them were even drinking wine.57 “So that explained their unmilitary attitude,” Skorzeny thought to himself, “there was no longer a prisoner in this prison!”58

  “Everything was almost ready,” Student recalled, “when Skorzeny reported that Mussolini disappeared overnight, the country house on the shore of Maddalena was again abandoned and deserted and the white ambulance plane was gone as well.”59

  It was true: The Duce was gone. And the Nazis had absolutely no idea where to look next. “In point of fact,” Skorzeny recalled, “we were back where we started from. . . . For a few days we were completely at a loss. There were rumors aplenty, to be sure; but as soon as we investigated them with the slightest care, they vanished into so much smoke.”60

  Though they were unaware of it at the time, Student and Skorzeny were having an easier time keeping track of Mussolini than were the Allies. During the summer of 1943, the Office of Strategic Services, or OSS, the forerunner of the American CIA, was also keeping tabs on the Duce and trying to monitor his movements. By August 16, for instance, the OSS learned from an Italian informant that Mussolini was on Ponza, though he had left that island on August 8. Ten days later on August 26, Allen Dulles, the head of the Bern office of the OSS, wired an intelligence update to Washington, D.C.: “Mussolini i
s now on the island of Maddalena, according to latest reports.”61 This information was accurate at the time, but was out of date within two days or so.

  La Maddalena had been a close call for the Italians. As the month of August was drawing to a close, they had become increasingly nervous about the security of the island. Mussolini’s presence there was apparently an open secret among the local population, and the Duce’s captors feared that it was only a matter of time before the Nazis picked up the scent.62 Believing that a German rescue attempt was in the making, they decided to move their prisoner yet again— just hours or days before Skorzeny was ready to nab him.*63 It was an instance either of very good fortune or of inside information: No one can say for certain.

  All Mussolini knew was that on August 28 at around 4:00 A.M., he was rustled from his bed in the Villa Webber and led to a seaplane with Red Cross markings that was waiting for him in the harbor below.64 After a flight lasting about an hour and a half, the plane touched down on mainland Italy at a seaplane base, Vigna di Valle, on Lake Bracciano, a short distance northwest of Rome.65 This was not far, incidentally, from the headquarters of the Third Panzergrenadier Division, the same German unit that Hitler had planned to use to capture Rome in the immediate aftermath of the coup.66

  On exiting the aircraft, the Duce was greeted by his new senior jailer, Police Inspector Giuseppe Gueli, who had replaced Saverio Polito after the latter was injured in a car accident.67 Mussolini was then shown to the “usual motor-ambulance” (as he later put it), which whisked him away in an easterly direction, beyond the towns of Rieti and Cittaducale.68 The Duce and his convoy traveled into the heart of the Abruzzi region of central Italy, a rugged but beautiful area known for its mountains (the Apennines) as well as for the olive groves and vineyards adorning its rolling hills. After passing through L’Aquila, the regional capital, the convoy drove another fifteen miles or so before arriving at its destination: a small inn called La Villetta, located near the village of Assergi.69

  La Villetta was merely a pit stop. Mussolini was scheduled to spend a few days there under the watchful eyes of his two primary guardians of the moment, namely Gueli and Lieutenant Alberto Faiola, before being transferred to a more secure location nearby.70 The Italians were about to up the ante. The Duce’s next prison, they assured themselves, would make the Nazis think twice before launching a rescue attempt.

  La Villetta was a small, rustic-looking place, to be sure. But it stood in the shadow of the tallest mountain ridge in the Apennines: the majestic Gran Sasso d’Italia (Great Rock of Italy).

  * * *

  *Rommel was in Bologna on August 15 for an Axis conference with the Italians.

  *Mussolini was never at La Spezia.

  *The Waffen SS was the combat wing of the large and complicated organization known as the Schutzstaffel (SS). In general, many members of the Waffen SS fought on the frontlines in conventional military units during World War II, though Hitler did consider these so-called elite (and fanatical) troops more “politically reliable.” See Keegan, Waffen S.S., 130–155.

  *“Amt” is the equivalent of “Department.” The Friedenthal Battalion was designated as Group S of Amt VI within the RSHA.

  *It is not clear why the Heinkel’s engine failed. In his memoirs, Skorzeny denies that the Heinkel was actually shot down by the enemy fighters.

  *According to some reports, Kappler’s discovery occurred earlier in the investigation. See Deakin, 544.

  *The raid may have been more complicated than Skorzeny made it out to be after the war. Mussolini later claimed that the Maddalena rescue operation was supposed to involve a bogus British submarine and German commandos dressed in English uniforms. Benito Mussolini, Memoirs, 132.

  *It is worth mentioning that Hitler’s military plans for the German occupation of Italy were fairly well advanced by this time. Thus, if the rescue mission led to an open break with the Badoglio regime, the Nazis were prepared to subdue the Italians by force.

  *The date set by the Nazis for the Maddalena raid is a bit fuzzy. But by all accounts, they missed Mussolini by a matter of a few days at the most.

  THE BADOGLIO SHUFFLE

  However, no one at the present time dare predict the course of future events, even for a day ahead.1

  —Secret German memo on Axis relations, August 13, 1943

  DURING THE SECOND HALF OF AUGUST, AS STUDENT AND SKORZENY were zeroing in on Maddalena Island, Hitler and his archenemies in the Italian regime edged ever closer to a final showdown. Though the German dictator was reluctant to seize Italy by force, at least until such time as Mussolini could be rescued, the king and Badoglio were not aware of this. They continued to worry that the Fuehrer and his efficient soldiers would ruin all their plans by occupying the peninsula before the Italians were able to strike a bargain with the Allies.

  If the secret struggle between Hitler and Badoglio had all the elements of high drama, one of the most fascinating (and surprising) subplots involved the smaller skirmishes that Hitler had to fight in his own backyard with subordinates who did not necessarily share his cynical view of Italy’s new leaders. General Walter Warlimont, who worked under Jodl on the Operations staff, observed that the “tension became all the greater when opinions within [Hitler’s] headquarters began to differ regarding the ultimate aims of the Italians. Only Hitler and Göring remained unshaken in their belief that ‘treachery’ was at work; in spite of this even Hitler felt that it was better to try to keep Italy on our side, hoping for a new turn of events as a result of the liberation of Mussolini.”2

  To Hitler’s endless frustration, most of his men on the spot in Italy continued to put their faith in the word of Badoglio. This group included Marshal Albert Kesselring, commander of German troops in the Italian theater, and most of Hitler’s diplomats at the German embassy in Rome, such as Ambassador Mackensen (then in Germany) and the military liaison, General Rintelen. At mid-month, Erwin Rommel noted in his diary that Hitler had “sharply criticised the work of Mackensen, von Rintelen and Kesselring, on the grounds that they are still completely misreading the situation—especially Kesselring—and are putting their full confidence in the new Italian Government.”3 General Student, for one, wondered whether there was something in the Italian air that had “bewitched” Hitler’s men in Rome.4

  The confusion and diverging opinions sparked by the Italian coup were also reflected in a lengthy memo emanating from the office of the German foreign minister, Joachim von Ribbentrop, in mid-August. In his summary of recent events in Italy, Hitler’s socalled foreign policy expert still seemed somewhat perplexed by the regime change and Badoglio’s repeated pledges of Axis loyalty.

  “The wealth of rumor circulating about the events which led to the overthrow of the Duce,” read the memo, dated August 13, “has so far made it impossible to form a clear picture of the essentials. Later developments are equally obscure and unclarified.”5

  To Hitler’s chagrin, the only thing the memo assumed for certain was the total collapse of Mussolini’s Fascist Party. “It cannot, however, be doubted that the leadership of the Fascist Party completely broke down and that practically no one was loyal to the Duce to the last. After the proclamation put out by the King and Badoglio the upper crust of the Party scattered to the four winds.”6 This, in turn, meant that an attempt by the Nazis to resurrect a new Fascist regime in Italy, as Hitler had urged, would receive little aid from elements of the former Fascist hierarchy.

  Although it threw cold water on Hitler’s dream of a popularly supported Fascist revival, the memo permitted itself other flights of fancy—namely, that the Italians would stick to their word and remain faithful to the Axis. “The new Government’s reiterated resolve not to acquiesce in unconditional surrender in any circumstances and not to permit Italy to be turned into a theatre for operations against her German ally is most earnestly meant and will be translated into reality.”7

  For several weeks to come, Ribbentrop would nurture the hope that the Nazis could reach an
understanding with Badoglio and therefore avoid an inter-Axis clash.8 Yet, despite its dashes of wishful thinking, the memo ended with a melodramatic caveat: “However, no one at the present time dare predict the course of future events, even for a day ahead.”9

  It was enough to give Hitler a migraine.

  Even as the ink was drying on Ribbentrop’s memo, the Italians were scrambling—in their own strangely half-hearted way—to jumpstart their surrender negotiations with the Allies, which had stalled yet again. The Italians had been toying with the idea of getting out of the war since late July, when Raffaele Guariglia, the foreign minister, had gone to the Vatican in an attempt to contact the Allies through the British and American diplomats in residence there. The next step had been taken on August 2, when Lanza D’Ajeta was sent to Lisbon to make contact with the Western Powers. Two other envoys were dispatched in early August, to Tangier and Switzerland respectively, but their efforts met dead-ends.

  D’Ajeta did not fare much better. After arriving in Lisbon, he met with the British minister and attempted to explain Badoglio’s predicament: Italy wished to extricate herself from the war but could not do so because of the increasing presence of German troops in Italy. Badoglio could break free of the Nazis only with the aid of military support provided by the Allies. D’Ajeta wanted to know whether they were open to the idea of negotiating a deal (though D’Ajeta himself had not been empowered to conduct such negotiations).10 But the Allies, who were sitting in the catbird seat— or so it seemed at the time—did not believe that Italy was in a position to dictate terms. Unconditional surrender, tempered only by the West’s sense of fairness, was the only deal on the table.