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ANZIO, BRUSH WITH DEATH The invasion of Anzio was poorly planned and very poorly executed, and the result was a total fiasco. The invasion forces landed with hardly any opposition and succeeded in seizing the beachhead area, our primary objective. The German Army was caught completely by surprise and our troops could have proceeded right to Rome with very little opposition. However, this did not take place, we were ordered to dig in and await until sufficient reinforcements arrived. As to why our Army did not seize the opportunity and move and capture the surrounding Alban Hills remains one of the mysteries of World War II. Within hours, the German Forces took advantage of the situation, the German troops poured in and occupied the strategic Alban Hills and the whole Beachhead Area was totally contained. For the next four months, the Allied Forces were totally pinned down. The German forces occupied the Alban Hills and we, totally surrounded, were backed up against the sea. For the next four months, we were subjected to the most devastating attack of World War II. According to U. S. Army archives, we were subjected to 205 German air bombing and strafing attacks. During daylight hours, the enemy could spot anything that moved. Zeroing in, they had 372 Artillery pieces and two massive Railway guns capable of firing a 1/4 ton shell onto the Beachhead from its 70 foot barrel. We lived underground, or in the basement of bombed-out buildings and only emerged during air attacks. Since we were positioned close to the Anzio Harbor, we served in an anti-aircraft mode. During one bombing attack, a hospital ship, suitably identified by a huge Red Cross, was hit by a bomb and sunk. Even the Hospital, completely revetted by sand bags, was constantly hit and wounded soldiers undergoing treatment again became casualties. During the four months of the Beachhead invasion, the city of Anzio was totally destroyed by enemy air and artillery attacks, and I don't believe one building remained intact. Truly, a scene from Dante's Inferno. There were barrage balloons stationed in strategic areas to thwart dive bombing attacks and also smoke generators that would spew out a foul smelling gray smoke that would black out the harbor area. There were no safe areas, shell holes everywhere, and since our guns were positioned in the city, we could not dig foxholes. Our only means of protection was to hunker down in a bombed out three story building. One unforgettable early morning, we were awakened by a terrible crash. We jumped up, turned our flashlights on, and crawled through a dust-filled room, only to discover our exit was totally blocked with debris. We found ourselves entrapped in a very small area with no visible means of exit. We screamed at the top of our voices and finally we heard a faint response. Because of the strict blackout imposed, they were powerless to offer any help, and we were told that they would contact the Engineer Corps and at the stroke of dawn, help would be forthcoming. I sat on my bedroll, it was a little after 4 A.M. and it was the longest and scariest two hours I have ever spent. Meanwhile, my companion cracked under the strain, crawled into a fetal position and started to whimper like a baby. I, in turn, was filled with foreboding and I had a horrible feeling that the building would collapse and we would not be rescued in time. Finally, there was a gleam of light and soon we were able to crawl out on our hands and knees. I then witnessed the most beautiful sight I've ever witnessed, a glorious sunrise. The Lieutenant in charge of the digging crew said, "Sarge, you are the luckiest soldier in the whole Army. Let me show you what I mean." Immediately adjacent to our sleeping area was a huge artillery shell imbedded in the cement floor. It was a dud that failed to explode on contact. At that moment, I the avowed agnostic, said, "Thank you God." This traumatic experience was even more than I could mentally handle, and after going to the First Aid Station I was shipped back to Naples for rest and recuperation. Unfortunately, my companion never survived this ordeal. He had gone totally off the deep end and was sent back to the Hospital. Later I found out that he had suffered a severe case of Shell Shock (Later termed, Battle Fatigue). After a two week period of R and R, I was shipped back to my outfit and the war went on. Now, in retrospect, as I type this experience, over fifty years later, I realize how the winds of war can sweep over and select those to survive and unfortunately those who were not that fortunate.
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ANZIO BEACHHEAD |