Of course, daily life in Rome was not without its lighter moments:
Yesterday as a German Red Cross closed car was passing through … the doors at the back burst open as it hit a rough spot and two young pigs fell out. Unaware of his loss, the chauffeur continued on his road at a high speed. The pigs were collected by women from the neighbouring houses who rushed to the scene and a passing butcher volunteered his services.10
(MacWhite, 27 February 1944)
By the middle of March 1944, the organisation was huge. The total number of escapees and evaders whom they were looking after had increased to 3,423 and the number of accommodations in use in Rome was approximately 200. The organisation was spending three million lire a month (then the equivalent of about £10,000 or, in current terms, over €400,000). Among those being provided for in the countryside around Rome were approximately 400 Russian escapees who were being looked after by Monsignor O’Flaherty through a Russian priest, Fr Bezchctnoff, assisted by two Russian women who had formerly served in the Red Cross.
Occasionally, the position eased somewhat as the organisation was able to assist some hundreds of escapees to make their way out of Italy. At the same time, new cases were coming to their attention and as the numbers increased the financial burden also grew. Also growing was the frustration of the German and Fascist authorities. As we have seen, O’Flaherty understated the risk to himself on all occasions and we can never be sure how many near misses he had. As Lieutenant William Newnan of the United States army describes it:
He was the good angel of all escaped prisoners until things got too hot for him and he had to retire into the Vatican. I cannot give you the details, but this worthy man risked his life for all of us day after day.11
The Monsignor was a long time personal friend of Éamon de Valera. Indeed when de Valera made his first visit to Rome as Taoiseach, it was O’Flaherty who looked after him and showed him around. Long after the War, the family made a visit to de Valera, who by then was President, in Áras an Uachtaráin. The Monsignor’s nephew recalls him telling the President the details of one episode which he used to illustrate the way some German officers interpreted their instructions literally. It seems an officer and a number of German soldiers were sent with an instruction to arrest the Monsignor in a particular house in Rome. However, the Monsignor left a couple of minutes before they arrived and he actually passed them on the street. He was quite satisfied that they recognised him but the officer, interpreting his instructions exactly, took no action.
We know, however, that Kappler made at least three very organised and determined efforts to capture the Irishman over a period of months. The first involved an Italian peasant, one of the men who came into Rome each day with supplies for the market and often assisted the organisation in transporting men or money. He was captured and tortured by the Gestapo. However, he was promised his freedom if he would lure O’Flaherty out of the Vatican, on the pretext that he wanted to bring the Monsignor to somebody who needed his assistance. The peasant agreed to participate in this scheme. He sent a message that he wanted to see O’Flaherty and was told to call in to St Peter’s Square to see the Monsignor. The next day he went into the Vatican where O’Flaherty stood in his usual position at the top of the steps. The square was unusually quiet on that morning at around 8.00 a. m. when the peasant arrived. The Monsignor was able to see a black Gestapo car near the white boundary line between the Vatican and Rome. Also watching was John May who was extremely suspicious that this was a trap and was taking a keen interest in developments. Standing beside were some Swiss Guards who were ready to intervene should the Germans try to cross the boundary. There were three men inside the car. May noticed that, unusually, the engine was kept running. The peasant started to walk across the square, not looking at the Monsignor, but occasionally casting a glance back over his shoulder at the Germans. Three times the peasant approached O’Flaherty, but on the first two occasions he did not look at the Monsignor, and merely walked past. On the third occasion he looked straight at O’Flaherty, and obviously having second thoughts as to the venture he was involved in, immediately turned and ran into a narrow side street beside the Holy Office and made his escape.
The second attempt involved a helper of the organisation named Grossi who had been involved from the very early days. Again the Gestapo had captured him and a combination of torture and bribery persuaded him to agree to betray O’Flaherty. Grossi at that stage was providing a billet for two escapees and Kappler was well aware of that fact. However, he arranged for the accommodation not to be raided to ensure that O’Flaherty would not be alerted to the fact that Grossi was now cooperating with the Gestapo. Grossi came to visit O’Flaherty and told him about escapees who were hiding in a location about thirty miles from Rome. He needed assistance to get them into Rome and he asked for O’Flaherty to go out and visit the group. Grossi informed the Monsignor that one of the escapees was sick and transport would be a problem. Without discussing the case with Derry, O’Flaherty agreed to help by going out to say Mass later that week near where the escapees were hidden and bring back the sick man. The remainder could follow. The day before he was due to go and say the Mass, O’Flaherty was in his room with a couple of his helpers. They were celebrating St Patrick’s Day when the phone rang and after listening for a few moments on the phone he was heard to say ‘Alright, I understand … God forgive him.’12 The call was a tip-off as to what was planned and so he avoided capture.
Kappler himself took a personal role in the third attempt to capture the Monsignor. He arrived one morning during March with two of his colleagues and examined the situation from the white boundary line. The Monsignor, who was in his usual position, was pointed out to the two men. Kappler explained to them that O’Flaherty was aware of the risk he was running if he came outside Vatican territory and even though he had done so on a significant number of occasions, they had failed to catch him. It was now necessary to lure him across the line. The plan was that the two men would attend Mass themselves later on in the week. On leaving the church through the door near where O’Flaherty regularly stood they were to bustle him across the white line and then let him go. He was then to be shot while escaping. Again, John May came to the rescue. He had got information from a contact named Giuseppe as to just what was planned. (Indeed, it was Giuseppe who had given the tip-off about the previous plan also.) He told John May that an effort would be made to capture and kill the Monsignor but he did not know the details. May suggested that O’Flaherty should stay off the steps and lie low for some time but the Monsignor declined to accept this advice.
What, me boy and let them think I am afraid? So long as they don’t use guns I can tackle any two or three of them with ease, though a scrap would be a bit undignified on the very steps of St Peter’s itself, would it not.13
The Monsignor was correct in taking this decision. If he disappeared from his usual location for a number of days, or indeed weeks, the problem would only be deferred and was likely to recur when he might not receive advance notice. O’Flaherty and May decided to go ahead and try to use the occasion to teach Kappler a lesson. At the Mass, Giuseppe managed to identify for May the two men. As we have seen, May seemed to have particularly close links with the Swiss Guards and indeed on this occasion they were, to all intents and purposes, following May’s orders. The Englishman, in turn, signalled to four Swiss Guards who had appeared just inside the doors of the Basilica. Within a couple of seconds, the Germans found themselves with one Swiss Guard on each side and two behind them. They knew the game was up and left quietly with the Swiss Guards. So the two men and the four Swiss Guards, followed by May, walked out of the Basilica and passed O’Flaherty who at this stage was taking great enjoyment in the proceedings. For the two, there was no particular cause for worry as they presumed they were being escorted back across the white line marking the boundary between the Vatican and Rome. However, May had something else in mind and half way across the Piazza a word from him resulted in a d
etour being taken down a side street, but still on Vatican land so the German paratroopers on duty on the far side of the line were unable to intervene. In this side street May had arranged for a number of Yugoslav partisans to teach the Gestapo, and indeed Kappler, the lesson that he and O’Flaherty had agreed. They survived but were a very battered and bruised pair, as a result of their experiences, when they reported to Kappler the next morning.
However, the organisation suffered a serious setback when Br Robert was captured. He had been arrested in company with two Italians when he was visiting three American soldiers – Cain, Ashton and Schoenke – and one C. W. Gamble of the Royal Fusiliers, who had been in hiding in the countryside, just outside Rome. The soldiers were placed in a prisoner-of-war camp. The Brother survived because Koch reckoned that, under torture, he might disclose very valuable information. However, Br Robert’s past activities as a pastoral clergyman came to his assistance. He told his captors that he had guided two people to an address in Rome at the request of a village priest and that this had been his only involvement. He also suggested that if the Fascist Gestapo cared to check, they would find he was well known to highranking German officers. Being a bit nervous of their German superiors, the Fascists checked this out. While working at a hospital run by his order, Br Robert had looked after German patients with as much care and consideration as he had looked after all others. The message came back to Koch that Br Robert had been very helpful to them and that in fact he was needed back at the hospital right away. He was released and once he returned to the hospital, contacted O’Flaherty. The Monsignor arranged for Br Robert to vanish and no member of the organisation met him again until the Germans had left the city. The two Italians were shot a week later, again highlighting the huge risks being taken by those who were helping Monsignor O’Flaherty.
11
Oppression and Fear
Life in Rome was always dangerous for escaped prisoners of war. From time to time the Germans might suddenly cordon off a street and then examine the identity cards of everyone caught in the trap. If they found Italians of military age, these were taken away for deportation to Germany or sent to work in labour camps in the north where the Germans were building defensive positions. Obviously, if an escaped prisoner of war was caught in this situation, he would be sent straight to prison.
One of those who found himself to be the subject of scrutiny by the Germans was Garrad-Cole. He was on a tram one day when he noticed two German soldiers taking a particular interest in him. He got off the tram at the next stop but they followed.
I tried to convince myself that perhaps it was merely a coincidence that the Germans had left the tram at that point. I stopped to look in a shop window – to see what they would do. Holding my breath, I watched reflections in the window as they passed me. They walked straight on, not even glancing in my direction. I sighed with relief and realised for the first time I was bathed in perspiration. But then they stopped, about twenty yards away to look in another shop window. My heart sank. Obviously, the Huns were playing me at my own game.1
He began to run, but very quickly they caught up with him and asked for his identity card. He produced the forged one he had but obviously they doubted its validity and told him they were taking him to prison. And they began to escort him down the street.
I glanced at my escorts, endeavouring to weigh up my chances. They were armed only with pistols, which they carried in holsters at their waist. They were shorter than myself but quite hefty. My one consolation seemed to lie in the fact that they didn’t look particularly bright. Suddenly I struck out my right leg, tripping my right-hand escort so that he staggered forward. As he staggered, I struck him behind the ear with all my might. He fell to the ground. I stepped quickly forward and rushed down the street. A moment later, I heard a bullet whine past my shoulder and saw it strike the wall of a house a few yards ahead of me.2
Garrad-Cole knew his only hope was to get off the street or he and maybe innocent civilians would be shot. By chance he was near the apartment block where the Lucidis lived. As he reached the doorway, his pursuers were out of sight and he dived in. Some seconds later they ran past. Upstairs he met Renzo Lucidi who suggested to him that he hide on the roof. When Garrad-Cole got there he realised that he could gain access to the top of the lift so when Renzo Lucidi brought it up to the top floor, ‘I climbed on the top of the cage to lie full length in the small space between the top of the cage and the winding gear.’3 Some minutes later, a German search party arrived and for over an hour sought the escaper without success. However, they had a description of the man they were seeking. After they left, he went to the Lucidis’ flat and changed from his light-coloured raincoat and black trilby into a brown overcoat of Renzo’s and a brown trilby hat belonging to Gerald, his elder son. The Lucidis sent him on his way with their younger son Maurice, in the belief that he would arouse less suspicion in the company of a child. Maurice and his ‘father’ walked out of the area with the youngster keeping up a steady chatter so that they aroused nothing more than a glance from the Germans. When they reached the banks of the Tiber and relative safety, Maurice said goodbye and, ‘with a cheerful wave went scampering off home’.4
When the King and Badoglio’s Government deserted Rome in 1943, a secret Committee of National Liberation (CLN) was formed. This was representative of six different political groups and operated under the leadership of Ivane Bonomi. Bonomi was an elder statesman of the Roman scene dating from pre-Mussolini days. His party, the Labour Democrats, were right of centre and opposed to the King and the Badoglio Government which was now located at Brindisi. The most powerful party throughout Italy at that time were the Christian Democrats, led by De Gasperi, representing Catholic and conservative opinion. Also on the right were the Liberal Party and both they and the Christian Democrats were opposed to the King and Badoglio. Even more strongly opposed to them were the three parties of the left, the Party of Action, the Socialist Party and the Communists. Outside the Committee of National Liberation was the Military Front in Rome founded by a Colonel Montezelmo which was supportive of the Monarchy and Badoglio. Linked to the Communist Group was the partisan force known as Gap who were the most effective unit within the Resistance in the ongoing battle with the German and Fascist authorities.
Since the beginning of 1944, the numbers involved in policing Rome and controlling the situation had greatly increased. The Germans had brought in about 500 extra men and, in addition, there was Koch’s Special Police Unit and the aggressive new Police Chief, Caruso. Of the 500 additional Germans policing Rome, the Eleventh Company consisted of 160 men and were based in the city centre. They were recent recruits and were undergoing training. Each morning they would march through central Rome to a shooting range and then march back. Aside from anything else, it was a visible presence on the streets of Rome, underlying the intentions of the authorities to control any opposition. They followed this routine day after day from mid-February onwards. One of the Romans who observed their marching and the regularity of the timing was a senior activist in the Gappist movement. He noted that it was almost exactly 2.00 p. m. each day when they turned into the Via Rasella, which is a narrow and steep street up the Quirinal Hill. The partisans decided it was an ideal location for an attack.
The authorities set 23 March as a celebration day in Rome marking the twenty-fifth anniversary of the establishment of the Fascist movement under Mussolini. A range of events was organised for the day. The Gappist leaders selected this as a prime date for launching an attack. Their plan had two targets – one located in a theatre where some of the celebrations were due to be held and the other on the Via Rasella. As it happened, there was a last minute change of plan in relation to the location of the celebration so the former element of the plan had to be aborted. Indeed, the same almost applied to the proposal in relation to the Via Rasella. The police unit did not arrive at 2.00 p. m., as had happened every day previously, because of duties in relation to the celebrations organised
elsewhere in the city. The Gappists, who were located at various points of the street to perpetrate the attack, had already decided that if the police unit had not arrived by 4.00 p. m., they would abort. However, the marching policemen arrived into the street at 3.45 p. m. and the Gappists put the plan into action. Essentially it had two elements: firstly, an explosion of TNT by means of a 50-second fuse which would impact on the leading half of the marching group; and secondly, a firing of four 45 mm mortars with a three-second fuse on the latter half of the group. Another group of the partisans were in place to provide cover for the escape of their colleagues. More than two dozen of the policemen were killed instantly. Thirty others lay dying or seriously wounded and two civilians were killed. By 4.00 p. m., all the Gappists had made their escape successfully.
The Vatican Pimpernel Page 15