The lessons of the war in Russia had led to a reorganisation and re-equipment of the panzer divisions and the creation of motorised infantry divisions as distinct from the standard marching infantry divisions of First World War pattern with their horse-drawn artillery. Panzer divisions were strengthened by the adoption of the Mark IV PKW with its long 75-mm gun as main battle tank, and the addition of the heavy Mark V PKW “Panther”. Mark Vs were used later in Italy, although none was available at Salerno, and by 1944 the super-heavy Mark VI “Tiger” tanks mounting the much-feared 88-mm guns organised in separate units were encountered by the Allies. In addition to tanks a large number of armoured self-propelled guns with their armament, usually a long 75-mm mounted in a fixed casemate instead of a revolving turret, were manufactured to make good the enormous tank losses in Russia. They were a supplement and not a substitute for tanks proper, but frequently reported as tanks by the Allied infantry. They were known as Sturmgeschutzen, “assault guns”, or Panzerschutzen, “armoured guns”. The infantry in armoured units were renamed “Panzer Grenadieren”, a “grenadier” being anciently an elite infantryman. Panzer grenadier divisions comprised two regiments of three battalions in armoured carriers, and a battalion of tanks, together with artillery and engineers. In Italy they were regarded as more useful than full panzer divisions. At Salerno the German strength therefore was greatly overestimated.
Hermann Goering was supposed to be an elite division, but it had a large number of young and green recruits in its ranks and its training was not complete. The 15th Panzer Grenadier Division was at roughly the same strength, but as it had to leave detachments behind to watch other sectors of the coast in case the Allies chose to land at more than one point, it was able to bring only two infantry battalions, its reconnaissance unit and its engineer battalion to Salerno. The 3rd Panzer Division was also much under strength and, moreover, was composed of ethnic but non-national Germans and believed to be of doubtful morale. It was located near Rome.
(It is important to note that there was a divergence of opinion in Fifth and in Eighth Army about real enemy strengths, owing, in part, to their not knowing how many casualties the Germans had suffered in Sicily. Fifth Army Intelligence spoke of “weak divisions” but the operations staff assumed that they approached full strength. Montgomery wrote and spoke as though he believed German divisions south of Rome were still powerful. In preparing the “enemy narrative” for Martin Blumenson’s Salerno to Cassino [in “The US Army in World War II Series”] Mavrogordato wrote that, by the end of August, the 76th Corps comprised 27,000–30,000 men in the 26th Panzer and 29th Panzer Grenadier Divisions and as many as 17,000 in the 1st Parachute Division. The 14th Corps had 45,000 in the area between Salerno and Gaeta, including 17,000 in the 16th Panzer. In this he follows the Fifth Army’s operational staff and, incidentally, supports the traditional view of the battle as a near-run thing, contradicting not only German documents but also contemporary Allied Intelligence estimates made before the battle. Afterwards they changed their tune.)
The 76th Corps, General of Panzer Troops Traugott Herr, in Apulia and Calabria, was equally badly off. The 1st Parachute Division was well below strength and some of its units had been detached to strengthen the security force in the area of Rome. Of the two divisions facing the British 13th Corps in Calabria the 26th Panzer Division was reduced to two companies of tanks, only one of which reached the battle. The 29th Panzer Grenadier Division had only a few tanks, as it was felt that there was no scope for large armoured units in such rugged country. Both were stronger in infantry, although the 26th lacked one of its battalions and was very short of artillery. One of the great difficulties all the German panzer commanders faced was the shortage of petrol for training, and for moving their units for long distances in operations. On the mountain roads armoured vehicles, especially, used twice the standard staff allotments of fuel.
It is commonplace in warfare that the view from both sides is often equally alarming and equally dismal, but the predicament facing “Smiling Albert” Kesselring was enough to depress even that ever-optimistic commander. The real strength of the “mass of manoeuvre” he could hope to bring against the invader consisted of only one and a half divisions, without heavy tanks or medium artillery and seriously below strength in light field artillery; how soon they could be concentrated in the face of attack by the Allied air forces was uncertain. To complete the catalogue of his woes he had a creaking and makeshift command machine. His own headquarters, “OB(Sued)”, was designed to deal with the strategic problems of the Axis and with all three services. An all-German headquarters, Armee Oberkommando 10, or Tenth Army, to control the operations of the 14th and 76th Corps had been created only on August 22, under General of Panzer Troops Heinrich von Vietinghoff gennant Scheel. He had no logistics branch, and was seriously deficient of signals operators, equipment and cypher staff. His divisions had to deal with Kesselring’s HQ for all supplies. Because of these weaknesses he was never to have a clear or up-to-date picture of the situation at Salerno after the Allies had landed.
Kesselring had decided on his strategy before the Allied landings. A strong, almost impregnable natural defence line ran across southern Italy from the mouth of the Garigliano river on the Tyrrhenian coast through Cassino and along the Sangro to the Adriatic. There he intended to stand, and he set his engineers to work fortifying it. To give them enough time he would conduct a fighting withdrawal, avoiding the obvious trap of becoming too involved in the south when the Allies landed, as he accurately forecast, at Salerno. He had already reacted to Montgomery’s crossing of the Messina strait by thinning out in Calabria and Apulia behind a belt of demolitions. His only problem was how to deal with Salerno. His two corps – the 14th Panzer (Generalleutnant Hermann Balck) and 76th Panzer (General der Panzertruppen Traugott Herr) were disposed to cover all likely invasion points, but ready to move to Salerno. The most favourable outcome would be if von Vietinghoff could complete his concentration there quickly enough to mount a full-scale counter-attack against the invaders before they could be reinforced and drive them back into the sea. If this failed there was to be no question of investing the bridgehead and being taken in the rear by the advancing Eighth Army. In that case von Vietinghoff’s orders were to break off the battle, pivot on his right, form a line of battle across Italy and continue the withdrawal to what was to become famous as the Gustav Line.
Whether the invading Fifth Army could be defeated on the beaches depended on the ability of Generalmajor Rudolf Sieckenius* to hold a thirty-mile-wide front at Salerno until his division was reinforced, and the speed at which Balck and Herr could come to his assistance. There was a good chance of this as it was the strongest German unit in Italy. The 16th Panzer Division had been badly mauled at Stalingrad and withdrawn first to France and then to what was hoped to be the comfortable backwater of southern Italy to receive replacements, re-equip and re-train. By the beginning of September its strength was 15,000 all ranks (not 17,000 as estimated by Allied Intelligence), the majority raw recruits. Collective training had been hampered by the shortage of motor-fuel, but the division’s cadre of battle-hardened officers and NCOs had in full the remarkable German flair for turning recruits into aggressive fighters in a short time, as the Fifth Army soldiers were to find.
Compared with the other German divisions the 16th Panzer Division was well equipped, but it still lacked its heavy battalion of the new Mark V tanks and the medium artillery battalion of 150-mm howitzers. Otherwise it was very strong. Sieckenius had one hundred tanks, of which eighty-seven were the excellent Mark IVs with the long 75-mm gun, and fifty-five assault guns, supported by a regiment of field artillery with thirty-six 105-mm howitzers. Light anti-tank guns were distributed throughout the infantry and in addition two batteries (eight guns) of the dual-purpose 88-mm guns were attached. Ideally, the four panzer grenadier infantry battalions were carried in armoured halftracks, but the division had yet to receive its full complement. However, apart from his ta
nks and assault guns Sieckenius had another 176 armoured fighting vehicles, including those in the armoured reconnaissance regiment, which the German Army often used as infantry. Sieckenius had therefore what was virtually a fully mobile division, with a high ratio of fire-power to men. A German division, unlike its British or American counterpart, did not normally fight in regiments separately arm by arm, but in mixed groups of all arms formed ad hoc appropriate to the mission, known as Kampfgruppen, and identified by the name of the commanding officer, who might be from any arm.* Long practice and training that ensured that all officers had a full understanding of the tactics of arms other than their own enabled them to form and re-form these “battle-groups” with extraordinary speed and flexibility, composed not only of divisional troops accustomed to working with each other, but also in an emergency of any hastily collected groups of soldiers.1
The German “doctrine” (or policy) for protracted defence, developed on the Western Front in 1914–18 and later adapted to armoured, mobile warfare was a weak front, depth, and instant counter-attack to regain lost ground. Ideally, the front was covered by a first line of outposts with few men but strong in machine guns and anti-tank guns. Behind this, far enough back to be out of range of reconnaissance patrols and the surveillance of artillery observation posts was the second or main line of resistance. From it would be launched local counter-attacks to check penetration of the outpost line, while its own reserve units were poised to counter-attack in strength to restore dents in the main line. Behind this was a third or reserve line of units whose task it was to mount a coordinated counter-offensive in the event of a breakthrough of the main line. Like all formulae designed to cover a variety of military situations this was only valid if there were adequate forces available. Until he was reinforced Sieckenius was without any third-line reserve and had little to spare for immediate counter-attacks while at the same time covering his front. The one clear advantage he did have was that his division was fully mobile while the bulk of the invading force was marching infantry. Accordingly he modified the accepted doctrine by reducing the outpost line to eight strongpoints manned by a platoon of infantry backed by anti-tank guns and machine guns, covered by field artillery fire and protected by minefields along the long sweep of beach at the most likely landing places.2 Behind them, two to five miles back, he placed four Kampfgruppen, well concealed and ready to deal with any incursion inland either by fire or counter-attack:
KG Dornemann, Major Dornemann, his 16th Reconnaissance Battalion less a detachment with von Doering and plus a company of assault guns from von Holtey, in the area Baronissi–Salerno.
KG Stempel, Colonel Stempel, his 64th Panzer Grenadier Regiment, the 3rd Assault Gun Battalion from von Holtey, less the company with Dornemann, in the area Pontecagnano–Montecorvino airfield–Battipaglia.
KG von Doering, Colonel von Doering, his 79th Panzer Grenadier Regiment, two companies of tanks from von Holtey, detachment 16th Reconnaissance Battalion, in the area Albanella–Paestum.
KG von Holtey, Colonel von Holtey, his 2nd Panzer Regiment, less the detachments with the other battle-groups, in reserve in the area between Battipaglia and Eboli.3
All the battle-groups included a battery of field artillery and detachments from the divisional engineer battalion and 75-mm anti-tank guns. The panzer grenadier regiments had surrendered a platoon from each battalion to man the beach strongpoints. Any artillery not directly in their support or sited to engage landing craft remained under centralised control. This, it will be agreed, was not much to pit against a complete invading army. Although Sieckenius had knowledge of the ground, good observation and surprise to the extent that some at least of the invading units were not aware that they were likely to face tanks, he faced a grim struggle.
We must now turn to the details of the Allied invasion plan for AVALANCHE. Fifth Army had been reduced below the level which some planners believed essential because shortage of shipping limited the first lift for the assault to the equivalent of three and a half strongly reinforced divisions. One of Eisenhower’s reasons for committing troops to BAYTOWN and SLAPSTICK (Calabria and Taranto) was because they made no large demands on shipping but got troops ashore somewhere on the mainland. The effect, however, was to spread the effort when it should have been concentrated. After the battles in Tunisia and Sicily some Allied divisions were either under strength or had to be cannibalised to provide equipment for those destined for Italy, or were preparing to depart for OVERLORD. The troops available to Eisenhower therefore, were fewer than might be thought, and certainly fewer than Kesselring feared. But if the offensive capability of the Allied air forces is reckoned on the credit side, the total strength of the force to be landed in the assault phase should have inspired confidence that it would survive until the 7th Armoured Division and the remaining American infantry began to disembark in the follow-up phase, beginning on D plus four (September 13).
Clark’s force was indeed considerable. There were two special service brigades, one of US Rangers and one of British Commandos which, it was hoped, would seize by coup de main the exits from the north-western angle of the bridgehead leading to the plain of Naples;* twenty-seven battalions of infantry reinforced by some 150 tanks and numerous anti-tank guns, supported by 144 field guns of 88 mm (British 25-pounders), 24 105-mm-calibre self-propelled howitzers and 44 medium guns of 5.5 in. (140 mm) in the British 10th Corps, and 156 105-mm and 155-mm howitzers plus a number of the M10 self-propelled anti-tank guns in the US 6th Corps. All were to be put ashore by nightfall on D-day; enough to handle any possible enemy response, it was thought.
All the same, some misgivings were expressed that the tasks Clark had given his force exceeded its capacity. Indeed, the Fifth Army plan had serious flaws, the result of a combination of inexperience and the rush in which the planning process had been completed. It is conventional military wisdom when crossing a river or landing on a defended coast to spread the effort widely, so as to dissipate the enemy defensive effort, and then reinforce success and join up the landings into a single bridgehead. In AVALANCHE however there were not several landings but two completely separate ones ten miles apart, with the barrier of the Sele between them. The US 36th Infantry Division, commanded by Major-General Walker, strongly reinforced with tanks and tank-destroyers, was to secure the right of the bridgehead against any counter-thrust from the south up the coast and from the north-east. Its left flank rested on the Sele. It was to be joined on D-day plus one by part of Major-General Middleton’s US 45 th Division; two Regimental Combat Teams, one of three battalions and one with only two, a limitation imposed by lack of assault landing craft.
The role of Major-General Graham’s British 56th Division was similarly defensive. It was to capture Montecorvino airfield and secure the ground commanding it to the north so that it could be used by the Allied air forces as soon as possible, obtain control of the vital stretch of road between Bellizzi and Battipaglia, push out north of it to deny the enemy observation over it and then, implausibly, to extend to its right across the gap and join hands with the 36th Division on the line of the Sele river. This gave it a total frontage of fifteen miles, with its units strung out in a thin cordon, and was to prove impossible.
The mission given to the 46th British Infantry Division, commanded by Major-General J. T. L. Hawkesworth, was equally ill-conceived. The US Rangers and British Commandos were to land on the Sorrento peninsula. Hawkesworth was to disembark five miles south of the port of Salerno, which he was to capture, and then advance north to link up with the special forces brigade and secure the long mountain passes through which ran highways Nos 18 and 88, the exits from the plain of Salerno leading to Naples. To do this he had to wheel left exposing his inland flank to the enemy, so he had to use one brigade to extend the 56th Division’s defensive line to the north. The whole plan was an example of the Fifth Army staffs propensity to make plans on the map without any study of the ground or possible enemy reaction. The result was that of the nine brigade
s or RCTs available (counting the special force as one) only two were allotted to the task of breaking out of the bridgehead: both infantry, marching on foot.
Hindsight is always to be deplored but it would have been far better to land the 6th Corps complete north of the Sele, which would have given it a defensive obstacle on its open right flank. In fact dissentient voices had already been heard, notably that of General Patton. As a matter of routine he had been appointed the reserve commander of the Fifth Army, in case something unexpected befell General Clark. When he was briefed on the AVALANCHE plan by Major-General A. Gruenther, the Fifth Army Chief of Staff, he immediately put his finger on the wide gap between the two corps, observing that if the Germans knew their business they would soon find it, which in the event they did. Gruenther made no reply and nothing came of it. When the British commander of the 10th Corps, Lieutenant-General Richard McCreery, was briefed on the plan he too perceived that it was fundamentally unsound, but his appointment as commander was made too late for alterations to be considered. In any case the rigid US Army system of command did not normally allow for plans once made to be discussed by subordinates. The original mistake made in the Sicily planning had been repeated in the space of a few months, but there was no Montgomery to argue the toss.
So much for the plan of operations. How it was to turn out was decided by the actors. Of Clark we have already spoken. His touch in what was, after all, his maiden battle was to prove uncertain, but his admirable resolution only faltered once, and then only briefly. His principal lieutenants, like him, had considerable experience on the staff and in training troops, but little experience in the field. Major-General Ernest J. Dawley, commander US 6th Corps, had smelt powder only once, in the American punitive expedition to Mexico in 1916. In 1918 he had been staff officer to General George Marshall, and his subsequent work on the staff and as commander 40th Infantry Division in 1941 had led to his appointment to command the 6th Corps in March 1942. His headquarters remained unemployed, except for valuable work in training and planning. Dawley was one of those meritorious but unlucky officers who, had he made his debut in action in a normal operation under a sympathetic army commander, might have done well. As it was he was placed in a difficult command situation and lacked what the British call the necessary “bloody-mindedness” to assert himself. It was as much pressure from above as from the enemy in front that wore him down.
Tug of War Page 5