by Mark Zuehlke
Meanwhile, the Westminsters in ‘B’ Company had reached the outskirts of Pofi by 0900 hours. The scout platoon, riding Bren carriers, was just coming up to the railroad station at the bottom of the town’s hill when several machine guns fired in their direction. When the scouts veered off the railroad tracks they were following, one Bren carrier hit a mine. Despite the fact that the Westminsters routinely reinforced the carrier floors with heavy bags of sand to provide protection from exploding mines, the explosion killed Sergeant Tony Finlayson and wounded two of his men.13
The scouts quickly knocked out the machine guns, which had been manned by fifteen Germans, apparently Pofi’s entire defence. As the platoon went up the hill road into the town centre, an urgent message ordered it to pull back because the town was about to be shelled. Agreeing with his scout commander that the Germans had abandoned Pofi, the commander of ‘B’ Company tried to get the artillery fire mission on Pofi cancelled. There seemed little to be gained by subjecting the town to yet another pounding. The major’s attempts to stop the shelling were futile, however. Once the concentration lifted, the major again pushed his company toward the town. As the platoons entered the streets and moved past the mostly wrecked buildings, another urgent warning to pull back was received. This time a cab rank of American dive-bombers was en route. Once again the major tried to stop the bombing mission, but was “informed it was impossible.” He led his men back to a position well outside the town. The American Thunderbolt dive-bombers struck at 1420 hours. When the dive-bombers finally broke off their pointless attack, ‘B’ Company received orders to forget about Pofi and head directly for the ridgeline objective beyond.14 The town itself would be secured by 11th Canadian Infantry Brigade, which was coming up behind the armoured brigade to take over the advance.
Having belatedly recognized that the ground from Ceprano through Pofi to Frosinone was unsuitable for tank operations, Major General Bert Hoffmeister had decided that his infantry brigade should again spearhead 5th Canadian Armoured Division’s advance. This decision dovetailed with one made the previous day by Lieutenant General Tommy Burns. He had issued orders for 1st Canadian Infantry Division to gradually take over the advance from 5 CAD. To prevent the pursuit’s being broken off by a major reorganization, the hand-off would be undertaken one brigade at a time. May 30 was to be the final day that 5 CAD led the advance.15
The dive-bombing raid against Pofi proved to some Canadians that air support was a mixed blessing. Not only did the bombers attack an undefended town but some flew wildly off course and bombed the leading troop of B.C. Dragoons’ ‘C’ Squadron. Sergeant Butch Smitheram, yet to be formally transferred from Major Jack Turnley’s ‘C’ Squadron to regimental headquarters after his outburst over the Melfa battle, was shocked to see several Thunderbolts flashing down toward the Shermans. Fortunately, the bombing was erratic. Only one bomb came close, striking the road with a deafening explosion right in front of one Sherman. The tank’s driver slammed the Sherman into reverse, going back so fast that he lost control and overturned the machine into a ditch. One crewman was trapped underneath the tank. Once the Thunderbolts broke off, the merely bruised trooper was dug out.16
‘C’ Squadron moved slowly over the rough ground, bypassing Pofi and heading toward its ridgeline objective. Breakdowns, stuck tanks, and those knocked out by mines reduced the squadron to only four tanks by the time it wound up a narrow road onto the objective.17 As they came up on the hill, a machine gun dug into a root cellar opened up. Smitheram raked the cellar with his machine gun. The Germans fired back, then abandoned their gun and made a break for it. A burst from Smitheram’s gun dropped one of the four. The others ran back and scooped him up. Then they fled. Impressed by their bravery in returning for their fallen comrade, Smitheram’s tank crew let them go.18
‘B’ Squadron, meanwhile, struggled on — grateful that the Germans offered only some shelling by way of resistance. Kinloch found the battle with the terrain hard enough. The heat was terrible and the men sweltered inside the Shermans, which were forever becoming stuck and having to be dragged out of mud or holes by other tanks. Sometimes the men had to root out stumps or rocks that managed to hang them up. And all the time Vokes harangued Kinloch with his battle cry of “Push on. Push on.” With Finestone wounded, Captain Bill Malkin was serving as the squadron battle captain and Kinloch could tell that the constant berating was starting to grind on the man’s nerves.
Kinloch finally called a halt so that he could do a wireless check and determine the location of all his tanks. Some had thrown tracks and been abandoned along the trail. He paused in the grassy backyard of a small farmhouse. Once the check was over, Kinloch walked over to the farm’s well and drew up a bucket “of wonderful, fresh cool water.”
Back aboard the tank, the major decided that perhaps his leading troop commander had been overcautious in his pace. Kinloch ordered him to pull off the road and took over the lead with his squadron headquarters tanks. Perhaps if he personally led the advance, he could keep Vokes happy.
As the sun dropped toward the horizon, ‘B’ Squadron broke out into relatively open country to the northwest of Pofi, with a level road bordering the left-hand edge of a narrow valley. Ahead, Kinloch thought he saw the objective. The artillery regiments had established designated reference points for potential strongpoints of resistance, as well as the various objectives. Forward Observation Officer Captain Jack Handley was riding in a tank immediately behind Kinloch. With little to do for want of targets, Handley had been helping Kinloch by serving as his map navigator. Now, Kinloch asked him to have an air-burst dropped on the objective coordinates. The shell went off right where it was supposed to, confirming his location.
Normally, when faced with such open ground as the squadron was poised to enter, Kinloch would have brought up infantry to cover his flanks and gone ahead with two tank troops deployed in arrowhead formations. Instead, still responding to the endless “Push on, push on” pressure created by Vokes, Kinloch led his tanks into the open, “like a bunch of ducks in a shooting gallery.”
Thinking he should report to Vokes, he called back on the radio for Handley to give him a map reference for his current position. Receiving no response, Kinloch looked over his shoulder and saw a headless body sitting in the turret where Handley should have been. Suddenly, a shell exploded fifty yards ahead of Kinloch’s tank, followed by another fifty yards behind. “Driver advance, hard left!” he yelled. The tank slewed sideways into a large pit and became stuck. Over the radio, someone shouted, “Fire smoke!” Smoke shells rained around Kinloch’s Sherman, screening it from view of the German gunners. Kinloch ordered his crew to bail out. Then, after collecting his mapboard, code ciphers, orders, and gear, he started easing out of the turret. Just as he swung clear of it, Kinloch looked back inside and saw a Browning .50-calibre ammunition box fall and strike the solenoid switch that fired the main gun. A horrendous blast and concussion pounded him as the gun fired an antipersonnel round into the ground nearby. Nearly deafened, Kinloch did not want to think what would have happened had the round been high explosive.
During the confusion, the scout platoon of the Westminsters’ ‘C’ Company had come up in its Bren carriers. Kinloch shifted to his second-in-command’s tank and sent No. 1 Troop forward with the Bren carriers, following normal tactics. He came behind with the remnants of squadron headquarters, reaching the objective at 1915 hours. One lone German, who had been left behind, defended the position. Someone shot him.19
Kinloch was saddened to learn that a sniper had killed Lieutenant Ron Jewell of the reconnaissance troop at the farm where Kinloch had taken his refreshing drink from the well. The officer had gone into the farmhouse to check it and been shot in the back. When his driver, Trooper A.V. Harris, came over to investigate the shot, he too had been killed by a burst of machine-gun fire.20
Only five ‘B’ Squadron tanks reached the objective; ‘C’ Squadron had arrived with just four. Vokes’s regimental headquarters had also l
ost three tanks. Only ‘A’ Squadron, which had been following in reserve, arrived intact. Five ‘B’ Squadron tanks had been lost to enemy fire. The rest of the tanks “were bogged down, stuck on banks, rocks, tree stumps.”21
The Westminsters had fared no better. At the end of the day, wrote the regiment’s war diarist, “bits and pieces of the regiment were all over the country side, numerous vehicles being suspended over cliffs or jammed in sunken roads . . . . The day certainly brought out the point, the Higher Command cannot expect the motor battalion to cover the same ground as the tanks equipped as we now are without sustaining heavy vehicle casualties.”22
At 1030 hours on May 29, Brigadier Snow had ordered the Perth Regiment to saddle up and occupy Pofi. The regiment was standing around ready to move two hours later, when Hoffmeister contacted Snow and made the operation a brigade-strong show. Since the Perths were already organized, Snow decided they would lead the march from Ceprano and take up a final position to the right of Pofi. The Cape Breton Highlanders would occupy Pofi itself, while the Irish Regiment of Canada secured the ground south of the town.
Although transport was available for the move out of Ceprano, Highway 6 was jammed with British transport from the 78th Division. The Perths, therefore, trudged off on foot.23 After marching about a mile, however, the regiment received orders to hold up and wait for its transport, which was being shunted into the bridge traffic. Private Stan Scislowski and his mates in ‘D’ Company’s No. 18 Platoon gathered tomatoes and potatoes from a nearby garden and took the opportunity to whip up a stew. Using a mortar ammunition box for a pot, they mixed the fresh contents together with compo-ration cans of bully beef, meat and vegetables, and steak and kidney pie. The trucks rolled up just as the men finished their feast. The Perths climbed aboard the Dodge three-ton trucks and rolled toward Pofi.24
Eleven CIB’s advance went smoothly enough for the Perths and the Highlanders, for there were trucks to transport them. The Irish Regiment, however, had recently had its transport recalled by divisional headquarters to help with an artillery move. The trucks could neither be found nor replaced, so the Irish shouldered their packs and hurriedly marched forward.25
Arriving in front of Pofi at 1600 hours, the Perths disembarked and prepared to clear the town. ‘D’ Company drew the duty and two platoons swept through it easily. A few snipers were quickly killed, driven off, or taken prisoner. The Perths pressed on toward their objective 1,000 yards northwest of the town and reached it shortly before 1800 hours. They were just settling in when orders arrived that they were to carry on in the morning to capture Arnara.26
The new plan was for the Perth Regiment and the Cape Breton Highlanders to advance two miles beyond Pofi to secure the high ground in front of Arnara. The 5th Canadian Armoured Brigade would jump off from the position held by the B.C. Dragoons and pass by Arnara to capture three high points respectively code-named “Tom,” “Dick,” and “Harry.” The three 11 CIB regiments were then to move up and consolidate the Canadian hold on these features, which would serve as start-line points for 2nd Canadian Infantry Brigade of 1st Canadian Infantry Division, which would take over the advance.27
Back at brigade headquarters, Hoffmeister and Snow were having another argument. Snow did not think his regiments could reach their start positions for the move by first light — the time dictated by Hoffmeister for their jumping off. To do so would also mean his men would have to proceed without opportunity for either rest or food. Hoffmeister told Snow “that was ridiculous and of course they’d be in position long before first light.”
Snow raced to Pofi, where he gave the regimental commanders their new instructions.28 They were to be ready to move for Tom, Dick, and Harry at 0500 hours on May 30. The Perth Regiment proved Snow overly pessimistic, arriving at its start point for the move on Arnara at midnight. Leaving one company behind in Pofi, the Cape Breton Highlanders concluded their move by 0130 hours, as did the foot-weary Irish Regiment. The day’s advance for 11 CIB had been remarkably easy, with only two Perths wounded and no casualties in the other regiments.29
From his position on the hill looking out on Arnara, Scislowski could see the town on a height of land only slightly lower than the one he currently occupied. A narrow valley lay between the two hills. Like all the country west of Ceprano, this valley was choked with vegetation and terrain obstacles. As Scislowski stretched out to grab a few hours’ sleep, he hoped “the advance on the town would be as bloodless an action as that of Pofi.”
It proved even better. At 0430 hours, ‘C’ Company slipped into the town through the darkness and found it entirely evacuated except for one German, who was quickly captured. By 0900 hours, the rest of the regiment had crossed the valley and was spread out around Arnara. When ‘D’ Company passed through, Scislowski walked “straight into the arms of a deliriously happy crowd of Arnara’s citizens. . . . A most exhilarating feeling it was too, to look on these people lavishing gratitude and adulation as we marched by.” The private felt a hero as the reception provided “an incalculable lift to the human spirit. Arnara was ours, without a shot. What a joy! What relief that it had been so easy!”30 For the Perth Regiment, the Battle of the Liri Valley was over. The regiment proceeded to enjoy what was essentially a furlough in Arnara.
For other regiments of I Canadian Corps, the fighting was not yet done. But everyone recognized that the campaign for Rome was winding down. There was no doubt that the Germans were on the run; the grand design of forming a last-ditch defensive bastion on the Caesar Line had been no more than wild fancy in the face of the Allied advance. The juggernaut of a U.S. Fifth Army reunited after VI Corps’s breakout from the Anzio beachhead and Eighth Army’s gathering strength, as the ever sluggish XIII Corps finally drew up alongside I Canadian Corps, overwhelmed the Germans. Demolished in the May 11–25 Liri Valley fighting, there was nothing Tenth Army could put in the way of Eighth Army’s advance that would do more than delay the inevitable end.
Delay, however, was what mattered. Tenth Army fought a desperate rearguard action to enable itself and Fourteenth Army to extricate divisions from a trap that could end in destruction of the German forces in Italy. In this action, they had an unexpected ally — General Mark Clark of U.S. Fifth Army. General Harold Alexander’s Operation Diadem had not been mounted just to liberate Rome. He had sought to destroy Generalfeldmarschall Albert Kesselring’s armies in Italy. Clark had always had his eyes set more on being first into Rome than on decisively finishing off the Germans. Early on May 30, following a refusal from Alexander to allow Fifth Army to sideslip the French corps — currently driving westward through the Lepini Mountains — north of Highway 6 to free up space for a general American drive toward Rome, Clark decided he was in a race with the British. The American general’s orders had been to drive hard to the southern flank of the Alban Hills and Valmontone, creating a roadblock on Highway 6 that could check the retreat by Tenth Army and some divisions of Fourteenth Army on the only available modern road.31 Instead, as early as May 25, Clark decided to shift the axis of his advance so that VI Corps marched south of the Alban Hills directly toward Rome. Hence a gap was created through which the retreating Germans were allowed to escape, badly depleted but able — as they had proven themselves so capable in the past — to rebuild their divisions and fight again.32
In a May 30 diary entry, Clark justified his decision: “Eighth Army had done little fighting.” He determined to squeeze the Corps Expéditionnaire Français eastward to create a situation by which this corps “by right of eminent domain will ‘slop over’ into Eighth Army area, usurp Route 6, and put him [Marshal Alphonse-Pierre Juin] on my north headed for Rome.”33
Alexander well understood Clark’s scheme, but was powerless to stop his American subordinate. The British High Commissioner for Italy, Harold Macmillan, saw Alexander hours after Clark’s intentions had become obvious. He noted that Alexander’s eye was twitching as it did before battle and he asked what was wrong. “What is right?” Alexander bar
ked. He told Macmillan what Clark was doing. When the High Commissioner asked why Alexander did not insist that Clark conform to his orders, he shot back, “Why do you talk nonsense? How can I give orders?”34
The uneasy alliance between Americans and British in Italy was never more apparent or fractured. Both knew that the opening of a new front in Western Europe was imminent. Any day, Operation Overlord must overshadow events in Italy. Clark was determined to be the liberator of Rome before the first Allied soldiers splashed ashore on the beaches of France and he had precious few days to make it happen.
For his part, Eighth Army commander General Sir Oliver Leese was ambivalent about Rome and disinclined to compete with Clark for the prize. On May 30, he wrote his wife: “I hear that [Clark] stated . . . he would get to Rome in five days. I understand that they have everything prepared for a 5th Army Triumph with [Clark] as the Jeanne D’Arc of his era. Well, I can only hope he can do it. It will save a lot of trouble and lives — but if he can’t, it will mean a big battle for us both — and then I shall race him to it.”