by Mark Zuehlke
Lucas’s opportunity for bold action lasted three days and he spent those, as Clark had directed, solidifying his grip on a small beachhead. Meanwhile, the Germans moved to contain the divisions ashore at Anzio, but not in the way anticipated by the Americans. Rather than drawing Tenth Army divisions from the Gustav Line, Commander-in-Chief Southwest Generalfeldmarschall Albert Kesselring rushed reinforcements south from Fourteenth Army stationed in northern Italy. By January 25, a ring of 70,000 men from eight divisions hemmed in a beachhead only seven miles deep and sixteen miles wide. A belated breakout attempt achieved only heavy casualties. On February 2, Lucas, having received intelligence reports that the Germans were mounting a major attack to wipe out the beachhead, ordered his divisional commanders to dig in and hold.7
The feared counterattack fell on February 16 at the direct order of Adolf Hitler, in the form of a single regimental thrust on a narrow front by the Infantry Demonstration Regiment. Dubbing the Anzio beachhead “the Abscess,” the Führer was determined that it should be pinched out of existence. Kesselring was not surprised when the attack failed, because the assigned regiment was a home defence unit with no combat experience. Kesselring tried again on February 29 with a stronger force drawn from the LXXVI Panzer Corps, consisting of the 114th Light Infantry, 362nd Infantry, 26th Panzer, and Hermann Göring divisions.
The day before the attack, Kesselring visited the troops and almost cancelled the operation. Heavy rain had transformed the battleground into sloppy mud and so obscured visibility that Kesselring could barely imagine the men moving forward, much less fighting. “But the units detailed for the operation were so full of confidence that in deference to their wishes I let it stand,” he later wrote. The assault quickly faltered and was abandoned on March 1.8 The Anzio beachhead was secure, but it was also contained.
Fifth Army, meanwhile, had tried throughout late January and into February to batter its way past the Gustav Line around the small town of Cassino in what were soon designated the first and second battles of Cassino. Before becoming the focus of battle, Cassino had been a minor service town for Liri Valley farmers with a population of about 25,000 people. Most fled east into the Apennines as the fighting approached, rendering Cassino a ghost town by the time the battle moved into the streets. Gains here and elsewhere along the Gustav Line were insignificant, but cost 12,400 Allied battle casualties.9
Another casualty had been the abbey on Monte Cassino, destroyed by a massive Allied bombing raid. The Christian monk, and later beatified saint, Benedict founded Monte Cassino in A.D. 529. By the time of his death on March 21, 547, it had become the spiritual seat of the Benedictine Order, from which monks began dispersing throughout Christendom to establish monasteries. Benedict’s original abbey had been destroyed in about 580 by Langobards. Rebuilt in 717, it was again razed in 883 by Saracens and not reconstructed until the mid-tenth century. In the eleventh century, the abbey’s reconstruction was accelerated, employing master craftsmen and artists brought in from every corner of Italy. The final structure, built entirely from white travertine stone, was in the shape of an irregular quadrilateral 210 metres long and up to 150 metres wide. It covered almost seven acres. By 1087, most of the features that contributed to its splendour were complete. The basilica was grandly decorated with mosaics, marble, and woodcarvings, and the great bronze-sheeted central door engraved with the names of churches and monasteries founded by the Benedictines was installed. In 1349, an earthquake heavily damaged this incarnation of the monastery. Work began immediately to restore the structure perfectly. Throughout the ensuing centuries, more works of art were added to the monastery and the rebuilding of various sections heightened its grandeur.
Equally impressive were the large library and archive. Here, during the European Dark Ages, the monks had gathered and transcribed many literary works that might otherwise have been lost. These included the Varrone de Lingua Latina, the oldest known work on grammar, along with writings by Virgil, Homer, Cicero, Ovid, and other ancient Greek and Roman writers. Approximately 10,000 hand-lettered parchment scrolls were gathered here.10
On February 16, 239 Allied bombers, attacking over the course of four hours in eight consecutive waves, dumped on the abbey 453.5 tons of bombs, including 66.5 tons of incendiary bombs intended to set fires. The magnificent basilica and all the other buildings inside the stout outer walls were reduced to rubble. Between 1,000 and 2,000 refugees, many from as far away as Naples, had taken shelter in the cellars. They had come to Monte Cassino believing the abbey would be protected as one of Christendom’s most sacred shrines. At least 230 died in the bombing.11
Neither the bombings nor the heavy artillery barrages that followed succeeded in breaching the walls, which were a standard width of three metres thick set upon a slightly wider base.12 As a tactical defence base, the rubble of the abbey served as well as the undamaged structure would have. Ironically, however, the Germans had not occupied the abbey to this point, although elements of the 1st Parachute Division were dug in all around it, so that the abbey was integrated by default into their defensive network. Once the devastating bombardment ended, the paratroops quickly transformed the ruins into a pivotal anchor in their line.13
Although virtually all the artwork that adorned the structure itself was destroyed, the removable works of art and the vast holdings of the library and archive had been removed to the safety of the Vatican. General der Infanterie Frido von Senger und Etterlein, who commanded the Germans’ Cassino sector, had used his soldiers and trucks to rescue the artifacts. By a strange twist of fate, Senger — a Rhodes scholar and devout Catholic — had, as a young man, joined a lay group committed to Benedictine philosophy. Well aware of the abbey’s treasures, Senger also knew that the critical phase of the battle for Rome must inevitably be fought at Cassino and in the Liri Valley, which the abbey overlooked. Monte Cassino would therefore be a scene of fierce fighting.14 Accordingly, he had evacuated the treasures during the months of October and November, and by December 5 the process was complete.15
The destruction of the abbey was to have broken the German defences on Monte Cassino and permitted the newly arrived Eighth Army New Zealand and Indian divisions to capture both the mountain and town. On February 24, however, rain poured down relentlessly and continued to March 15, the Ides of March. During this time, the wet and chilled Commonwealth troops could only cling grimly to their start lines and wait for the rains to relent. In the mountains, rain often turned to snow and the threat of frostbite loomed for soldiers unable to build fires or find shelter.16
At 0830 hours on March 15, 455 Allied bombers consisting of 164 Liberators, 114 B-17 Flying Fortresses, 105 Marauders, and 72 Mitchells pulverized the ancient town of Cassino with more than 1,000 tons of bombs dropped over three and a half hours. While most hit the target, 43 planes that drifted off course bombed nearby Venafro, Pozzuoli, and other small hamlets, along with several Allied positions, leaving 96 Allied soldiers and 140 Italian civilians dead in their wake. Cassino was devastated. Every building was badly damaged or reduced to a pile of rubble.17 Immediately after the planes departed, an artillery barrage fired by 890 guns hammered Cassino with 195,969 shells.18 Inside the town, 160 of 2nd Battalion, 3rd Parachute Regiment’s 300 men lay dead, wounded, or entombed alive in the rubble. Most of those trapped perished, as there was no opportunity in the ensuing fighting for the Germans to rescue them. The remainder of the paratroopers, however, emerged from the ruins with arms at the ready and moved methodically to their positions.19
A vicious battle ensued as 2nd New Zealand Division fought amid the rubble, often hand to hand, against the determined German defenders, while regiments of 4th Indian Division vainly attempted to climb Monte Cassino and capture the summit and abbey. The battle seesawed back and forth, with the Germans losing ground and then regaining it in bloody counterattacks, until March 24 when the offensive was finally called off. A total of 881 men in 2nd New Zealand Division had been killed and 1,080 in 4th Indian Division. A bliz
zard swept the slopes of Monte Cassino as the Indian units withdrew and the British 78th Infantry Division secured the small dent they had shoved into the Gustav Line. The German defenders had also paid a fearful price. The parachute battalions could only field 40 to 120 fit men apiece, when normal battalion strength was about 800. Major General F.S. Tuker wrote that the battle would be remembered as one of the great “military sins” of history. It had been folly to throw the Indians and New Zealanders against a “mountain position which had for centuries defied attack from the south and which in 1944 was not only the strongest position in Italy, but was held by the pick of the German troops in that theatre of war.”20
The participation of the New Zealand, Indian, and British 78th Infantry divisions in the disastrous Third Battle of Cassino marked the beginning of Alexander’s transfer of Eighth Army divisions from the Adriatic. Only a thin screening force would be left behind. Once the majority of Eighth Army was moved, Alexander intended that the Fifth and Eighth armies would jointly shatter the Gustav Line and charge up the narrow Liri Valley to Rome. Alexander recognized this was the only strategy left that might break the Italian campaign deadlock.21
Sir Harold Rupert Leofric George Alexander, third son of the Fourth Lord of Caledon, was no military neophyte. He had entered Sandhurst at nineteen, desiring nothing more in life than to be a professional soldier. At fifty-three, he was a World War I veteran who had won the Military Cross during the Battle of Loos in 1915 when his company of 2nd Battalion Irish Guards had captured Chalk Pit Wood. During the bitter third phase of the disastrous Battle of the Somme, he won the Distinguished Service Order for his valour and became 2nd Battalion’s commander at the age of twenty-six. Following the war, Alexander spent two years fighting with the White Russians against the Bolsheviks in Latvia and then participated in two Imperial frontier campaigns defending the Empire in the far-off lands of Loe Agra and Mohmand. At the disaster of Dunkirk in May 1940, he had been promoted to command of I Corps, which he successfully evacuated from the beaches despite having received permission from Churchill to surrender. Alexander went on to demonstrate exemplary tactical skill in Burma against the Japanese and had established a good reputation for competence in his position in the Mediterranean theatre. His one major personality flaw was a tendency to attempt to gain cooperation of subordinates through persuasion rather than imposition of his leadership. This trait fostered an atmosphere in which his army commanders, particularly Clark, a self-confessed anglophobe, felt free to substitute their own plans for Alexander’s.22
In late March 1944, Alexander started drafting his plan for a May offensive called Operation Diadem. This time he was determined that the two armies under his command would march to a unified drum and that his commanding generals would follow orders to the letter. Guiding his thoughts was the belief that the rugged Italian terrain and strongly constructed and manned German defensive lines could be only penetrated if the Allies enjoyed a three-to-one superiority of infantry. Unfortunately, intelligence estimates of German strength tallied against Allied strength in Italy gave him an infantry superiority of only one-and-one-quarter times.
Furthermore, Kesselring undoubtedly expected the next Allied move would be directed against the Gustav Line.23 It was impossible for the Allies to mount a true surprise attack against the Germans, all of which combined to render any offensive a desperate gamble. Failure could well stalemate Allied operations in Italy until events in northern Europe or elsewhere forced a German withdrawal.
Even a May offensive was terribly late, because it had been agreed that Operation Overlord — the amphibious invasion of northern Europe — and the supporting Operation Anvil invasion on southern France’s Mediterranean coastline would have priority in 1944. Operations in Italy would take a back seat. The two armies in Italy would be third in line for supplies, reinforcements, air asset allocations, amphibious landing equipment, and would also have at least two American divisions leeched off for Operation Anvil.
The failure to breach the Gustav Line earlier in the winter jeopardized this latter invasion, something that greatly displeased the Combined Chiefs of Staff in London. Their early planning had assumed that by May 1944, Rome would have fallen and the Germans in Italy would be digging in behind the Gothic Line between Pisa and Rimini. The length of this line, running across the wide northern region of Italy, was such that it would require all German divisions currently in Italy to remain in place to prevent a breaching offensive by the Allies. With Kesselring’s divisions thus tied up, there would be little possibility that any could be shifted to southern France to repel the invading forces.
The Combined Chiefs of Staff considered abandoning Operation Anvil entirely. However, they also believed this would increase the risk of the forthcoming invasion of northern France being thrown back into the sea, as German divisions in southern France would be free to move north against the invasion beaches. Finally, on April 19, it was agreed that Operation Anvil “should be cancelled as an operation but retained as a threat.”24 It was hoped that demonstrations by naval vessels off the coast of southern France would suffice to keep German divisions tied down on this front waiting for an invasion that would probably never come. Cancellation of Operation Anvil meant that an all-out offensive in Italy now became the second priority, after Operation Overlord, for Allied operations on the Western Front. The chiefs instructed Alexander’s newly appointed superior, General Sir Henry Maitland Wilson, to plan for the “best possible use of the amphibious lift remaining to you either in support of operations in Italy, or in order to take advantage of opportunities arising in the south of France or elsewhere.”25
Alexander assumed that this meant Italy would be given great priority in terms of resources and possibly even amphibious equipment. The reality was that Overlord was sucking up most available assets, virtually all amphibious landing craft, and that the Americans still remained wedded to the idea of mounting Operation Anvil as soon as practicable. No matter what other eventuality might arise, they were determined that this invasion would come before the end of summer 1944, assuming that Operation Overlord succeeded.26 Soon realizing he would not receive a major influx of fresh divisions or have the strategic option of carrying out another amphibious landing in the German rear, Alexander knew he must concentrate his forces before the Gustav Line. Whether the offensive succeeded would depend on the strategy he employed in striking the line.
On April 2, Alexander summoned Clark and Leese to his headquarters in Caserta and explained his battle plan for Operation Diadem. Eighth Army was to break through the Gustav Line and what the Allies persisted in calling the Adolf Hitler Line, known to be situated a few miles back from the Gustav Line, with the village of Pontecorvo hinging its western flank and Aquino the eastern. Recently, the Germans had realized the line might be breached in the forthcoming fighting and renamed it the Senger Riegel (Senger Line), after the German commander of the Monte Cassino sector. The Allies, recognizing the propaganda value that could be derived from smashing a line named after the Führer, continued to use the old identifier. If the Gustav Line fell, the defenders could hastily retreat into the Hitler Line’s prepared defensive positions, contain the Allied advance, and then counterattack to regain the Gustav position.
Alexander was determined that the Hitler Line would fall as quickly as the Gustav Line and that once Eighth Army was through both, it would dash up the Liri Valley via Highway 6 to Valmontone on Rome’s southern outskirts. Meanwhile the Fifth Army would secure the Ausoni Mountains and protect the Eighth Army’s left flank by driving along the eastern flank of the mountains into the Liri Valley via the village of Esperia. The VI U.S. Corps would break out of the Anzio beachhead and advance toward Valmontone, and link up with Eighth Army at the gates of Rome. Alexander expected all preparations for the offensive to be in place by May 3 or, at the latest, May 5.
A paramount consideration for Alexander was that the timing of the offensive benefit the launching of Operation Overlord, which, he understood
, would happen at the end of May. If the Liri Valley operation began fifteen to twenty-one days ahead of Operation Overlord, Alexander believed he could take Rome and mangle the Germans in Italy before the Allies hit the beaches in northern Europe. This would leave Kesselring nothing to send north and threatened with losing Italy entirely unless he himself were reinforced.
An offensive in early May also coincided nicely with the phases of the moon, which was to be full on May 8. Movement of troops in the Italian campaign generally occurred at night, so Alexander thought it advantageous to have the light of a strong moon to guide the troops. For all these reasons, Alexander, Clark, and Leese agreed that the offensive should start on May 10.
Date set, the next problem was to determine the timing of each action. Alexander’s original thought had been to have Lucas lead with the breakout from Anzio to sever German communications between Rome and Cassino. After some discussion, he abandoned this idea because the Germans containing the Anzio beachhead had strong mobile reserves that could block such a breakout before it could reach Highway 6. Alexander suspected too that Kesselring would be expecting the first blow to come from Anzio, so striking elsewhere might gain a modicum of surprise. Finally, Alexander decided that Eighth Army and Fifth Army would attack simultaneously and that the Anzio force would be ready to jump off four days later.27