大象传媒

Operation Shingle

(or the Anzio Landing and Battle of Anzio
22nd January/24th May 1944)

Chapter 1. of 6

Sentimental journeys never work, so I am told.....but I am not so sure. Having returned from one such journey to Anzio I can declare to the contrary. "Where is Anzio" do I hear you ask? Some of those bearing the weight of advancing years possibly may remember, those not thus encumbered may remain mystified. Whether to remind or enlighten let me explain.

58 years ago Anzio was a small fishing port and holiday resort for the Romans, its claim to fame being the birth-place of the Emperor Nero, but today it is better known as the place chosen during the Italy Campaign for Operation Shingle, an Allied seaborne landing and the subsequent Battle of Anzio

To understand this a brief word of explanation should be helpful. The Allied armies advancing up the "leg" of Italy came to an abrupt halt before a mountainous and fortified Line of Resistance, the German Gustav Line, carefully prepared across the whole width of the country. The hub of this Stop Line was Cassino and Monastry Hill, which dominated and overlooked the plains beyond. Unsuccessful attempts were made to breach the Gustav Line over a front of some 20 miles but the terrain and enemy defences were impenetrable and the resulting losses of men and material became insupportable.

Something else had to be done. This "something" was an amphibious assault at Anzio, some 60 miles behind the enemy front with the intention of striking inland 20 miles to seize the high ground of the Alban Hills, cut the enemy supply lines to Cassino and generally create mayhem. This, together with a simultaneous Allied attack on the Cassino Front, would, it was hoped, break the stalemate, enable the destruction of large enemy forces and shorten the war in Italy.

Great in theory....yes, but, as always there were snags. To mount this operation - Operation Shingle - required some 374 ships of various kinds from small assault craft to Navy cruisers. Much of the Mediterranean shipping was being withdrawn to UK for the Normandy D.day landings consequently the Anzio assault was constrained by the limits of available assault and supply craft. The initial assault, then, was restricted to two infantry divisions only - the 1st (Br) Infantry Division with Commandos and the 3rd (US) Infantry Division with Rangers, all of which had recent experience of amphibious landings.

Following the fall of Tunis 1st Division transferred to Italy and, after a somewhat hilarious Christmas 1943 in the small town of Cerignola, was on the move northward to join the 8th Army on the eastern coastal region; this was a cause for much rejoicing. Our movement orders were fully complete with timings, convoy details and so on and all went well as we proceeded in good order; that is until we reached Foggia. Here our way was barred by Military Police who diverted us with the injunction "follow the signs". Follow the signs we did, over the Apennines from east to west coast until reaching a place called Nocera on the outskirts of Naples. No one had the faintest inkling that this was to happen - praiseworthy security indeed.

I was Adjutant RE at the time, and no sooner than arrived, I was ordered to proceed - the army always "proceeds" - to the Royal Palace at Caserta. This is a vast place and was the habitat of Generals in great variety and it was here I reported my presence to my Colonel, shortly to be joined by the Intelligence Officer. My Colonel's correct designation was Commander, Royal Engineers, or CRE for short. He was Lt. Col. F.H.Foster DSO.OBE.TD: he liked the given-name of John but we called him Freddie - but not in his hearing, although of course he knew! It can be seen he was awarded the Territorial Decoration and it was unusual for a Territorial to be a Commander in a regular Division which spoke for him as a soldier. He was most competent and clear sighted in a quietly composed way and he was admired and respected. We had an office where he briefed us that 1st Division was to do a combined operation with US forces at a place called Anzio and that we three were to do the planning for the Royal Engineers. This was the first time I had ever heard the name Anzio - anything but the last. Time was at a premium because of the shipping situation. We were not allowed out of the building - security again - for three or four weeks until all was done. We laboured all hours with the intricacies of shipping-tons, allocation of shipping space, order of disembarkation, allocation of RE stores and equipment down to the last pick and shovel, operation orders and innumerable other matters; in fact everything possible to ensure the smooth development of the operation.

Although all this had been done the destination was still a close secret between us three and never mentioned outside the office. Orders were not issued to the RE units until the last minute but then only as far as the point of embarkation, after which it was anybody's guess; the name Anzio was never to be mentioned. There was only time for one quick rehearsal from landing craft which was not altogether a success but there was no opportunity for a second attempt and it was just hoped that all would be well on the "day of the race".

The day for boarding our LST in Naples found us in a side road to the port with all vehicles loaded and drawn-up in the correct order, as laid down in The Plan, together with several other contingents similarly prepared. It was an evening of spectacle - Vesuvius was erupting! This great mountain was afire. The fierce furnace within reflected from the night sky and clouds of vapour with an angry red glow, streams of melted lava streaked the mountain-side, every so often huge gouts of brilliant red ash and magna belched from the bowels of the earth high into the darkening sky. It was awe inspiring - nature in her most violent mood yet majestic. In comparison, our endeavours were so feeble and insignificant as we stood there with our little guns and silly ships.

Night came and with it the cold despite the enormous outpouring of fire from Vesuvius. The British soldier is never slow to attend to his own comfort and before long a near-by wooden fence found itself put to better use as it was converted into numerous bonfires around which we clustered. A conquering army knows no law and takes unto itself whatever is necessary for the day!

In due course we were ordered to the quayside and our vessel - an LST. It was berthed bow-on the quay, the bow doors were open to reveal a cavernous interior, stretching to the stern and already holding tanks and vehicles of all kinds not only on the lower deck but also conveyed by lift to the upper deck. The port was crowded with shipping, vehicles and men embarking for a great adventure but only a few knew where and they were not saying. Naples would be alive with spies.

The gap between the ship and the quay was bridged by a ramp lowered, from the ship by chains, to a seating on the quay-wall. Everything had to loaded backwards, obviously, so as to be at the ready on arrival. Immediately before us a tank was backing over the ramp when the ship strained its moorings away from the quay, so much so that the ramp moved back from its quayside seating; the lowering chains, not designed to hold the weight of a tank, promptly broke. The ramp and tank hinged downwards from the ship towards the water but, by the very greatest good fortune, there was a projection at water level on which the ramp caught preventing further descent and the disappearance of the tank and driver to the sea-bed. The tank ran forward and jammed itself against the quay wall. Here was a pretty kettle of fish!

But the unexpected had been anticipated. The only people who could handle a situation such as this were those of REME (Royal Electrical and Mechanical Engineers). These are an army organisation skilled in the handling of heavy equipment and loads and for this they are equipped with Scammell recovery vehicles of considerable size for powerful heaving and winching. These are the chaps who go out, where other fear to tread, and recover disabled tanks from the battlefield. After this dreadful happening to our ship REME men and a Scammell appeared, a heavy duty wire rope heaving tackle was dragged aboard the ship, the fixed block was secured to a strong point on the ship's deck and the other to the rear of the tank, the running end of the tackle was taken by a powerful winch at the front of the Scammell and the strain taken. With infinite care, having regard to the precarious support given to the ramp, the tackle was taken up and the tank slowly drawn back into the ship. Once done an electric arc welding generator came from nowhere, the ramp was raised back onto the quay and the broken lowering chains welded ready for re-use. The delay could not have been as long as 30 minutes - but how lucky we were.

As an operation it was beautiful to watch. Everything was done at the double, each man knew exactly what he had to do, there was no hesitation, the skills of the soldiers was self-evident. I was impressed. Clearly all eventualities had been anticipated by someone. I have always been of the opinion that the training establishments in UK, preparing men for the demands of active service, were the best there could be and that we, who were "out there", owed much to those performing an unglamorous job at home to see that we could give of our utmost. Those concerned have not been given the credit they deserve.

Who was it said "For the want of a nail the shoe was lost, for the want of a shoe the horse was lost, for the want of a horse the rider was lost?"....Success in war can depend on perhaps insignificant eventualities, accidents, and mistakes, influential beyond their proportion. Military action already commenced cannot be restarted and the operation must continue. The unlucky damage of a forward wireless set and loss of communication blinds a commander and limits control. All this is known as "the fog of war". So many things are interdependent across a wide spectrum that land war seldom follows the perceived plan for success. Imagination to respond to rapidly changing circumstances is the hall-mark of a good Commander whether General or Field Officer.

I cannot speak for the present day, of course, but in my day a military operation, particularly for a sea-borne assault, was akin to a completed jigsaw puzzle of great complexity. The whole was only as good as the total of the interlocking, mutually supportive parts. If one part is missing it may, or may not, be important as the overall picture still could be recognisable: if several parts are missing the picture becomes clouded: anything more is fragmentation and control is lost. As an example, the accident which occurred to our ship was a small thing in itself but, had luck not been on our side and the ramp not caught on the wall, loading could not have continued until the ship had moved to another berth, if available, and the waiting queues of vehicles backed-off and reassembled elsewhere. Our ship would have missed its slot in the naval convoy and only able to continue at a later time. A small hiccup perhaps but, if compounded with other eventualities, a failure could have been serious. As it was, we did sail from the Bay of Naples in naval convoy in our correct slot. It was dusk but sufficiently light to see the Isle of Capri and Sorrento as we headed southward for the unknown and in a direction opposite to our real destination. Vesuvius, not to be forgotten, remained visible for a long time as a fierce glow in the sky.

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