大象传媒

CASSINO

On 1 March 1944 we moved near Cassino for the battle which was to cost the lives of more of our regimental officers than any other engagement.
52 Battery drew the short straw and found themselves on a downward slope in full view from the Monastery, whereas I had a classic gun position, sheltered by a slight crest, though I sited our 鈥榯hunder box [loo]鈥� in the field behind looking directly at the Monastery.
It was so muddy and slippery from the melted snow that I had to borrow a bulldozer to get the guns in position. Our ammo had to be delivered by American lorry with 4wd whose black driver kindly gave me cigars; our own transport could not move in the quagmire.
As digging was impossible, we filled emptied cartridge boxes with handfuls of mud to build a Command Post. We cut down three trees to make a roof and threw our rather holey 3-tonner tarpaulin over the top, the camouflage net and all manner of natural cover on top of that.
We spent a very cold first night so I suggested constructing a fireplace. My staff went to town and produced an excellent one from a cartridge box, complete with chimney and damper. We were able to have hot drinks and chapattis or biscuit duff, something to keep us awake. During the following days other refinements were added, two steps leading down, a blast wall so arranged as not to block the drainage system, and an attempt at thatching to reduce the amount of water coming through the cover. I gave full marks to the lot of them.
Our real bugbear continued to be ammunition. Even the 4wd trucks could not get close to the guns after a drop of rain, so it meant humping two shells at a time across a muddy stretch of up to 100 hundred yards. When you consider that the establishment per gun started at 400 and then went up to 1000 per gun, you can imagine how much work this entailed. But done it was, not without a few murmurs at times.
On 17 March we fired more or less solidly until 0230 hours, getting through some 2250 rounds alone during three hours of darkness. The attack was not a success; our casualties were heavy, and particularly in officers and OP鈥檚 [observation posts] who were caught in counter battery fire.
My Troop Commander, newly arrived from home, was among those killed and I was detailed to take over his OP. After a night in the wagon lines, I set out in the Battery Commander鈥檚 armoured car followed by two jeeps. We were nearly there when, just as we were passing a derelict Sherman tank, mortar bombs arrived blowing off a wheel and putting us in the ditch. Driver North was hit in the leg and Signaller Whent in the chin. Driver Allen drove one of the jeeps into the ditch. We squatted behind the Sherman patching up the wounded, rather shaken. I found a tow chain in the armoured car, fastened it to the rear of the first jeep, ordered Driver Oliver to run his jeep up on to it, hooked on and shouted, 鈥渞everse鈥�. So we had two jeeps in which to proceed. I left Gorman with the two wounded and went on with the rest at a rate of knots.
I had to tell the BC the sad news and got permission to go back for the wounded and whatever I could salvage. I managed to extract the wireless but Jerry had the spot registered and started on us as soon as he saw what I was doing. The American ambulance run by Quakers, with whom I had often had coffee of an evening [I鈥檇 borrowed a book 鈥楽o Little Time鈥� by John Marquand from them which I was unable to return.], had already rescued the wounded.
Man packs for the hill climb; two water bottles per man, two blankets, greatcoat and groundsheet 鈥� the rest chiefly rations. It was a very steep climb past the dead mule with that unmistakeable stink etc and I felt pretty shattered when I reached the BC. He was commanding 1/9 Ghurka Rifles, in 鈥滵angle鈥檚鈥� absence at Brigade, and in the midst of battle, so I took a breather.
The previous occupant of the OP must have lain on top which seemed to me too visible, so I knocked a space in the roof and poked my head up there. The 18 set would not work but line had been laid, so I sent the signaller back with the set and we had more room. That night we lost contact when the line went and there was a certain amount of activity, so I withdrew to Battalion HQ where we had a hot drink. I went up again before dawn.
The Company put in a night attack and I gave what observations I could. The artillery support was pretty to watch, falling all around the monastery and surrounding slopes making patterns of golden rain and dull red bursts of flame. A machine gun opened up with tracer but soon stopped as the shell bursts came closer. When daylight came, not a sign of movement anywhere, the Monastery looked just the same and, our objective, Point 446, was still without any person visible.
I registered two targets, one I had no difficulty in hitting but the other, well ! I had two attempts of thirty rounds each without any success. I would see a burst at 7000, add 25 and it was invisible down in the valley below. I admitted defeat and the BC took over and shot off an aerial photo. His first round landed in view but verification was as difficult as before. It was an unusual shoot with the BC ordering corrections on my observations. I adjusted the other two regiments on to the first target to restore my confidence.
There was a fall of snow and this continued to drip through the roof for hours after. We had no fire or any hot food or drink but we did have tots of navy rum. The Yank infantry on our right were better equipped with very neat little Primus stoves. I was thankful to be relieved after four days of it.
Back on my gun position, a break in the rains allowed us to create a drain out of shell boxes with the ends cut out, placing them end-to-end to form a gutter. The BC paid several visits; gave me a bollocking for not having all my gun nets up but was very affable when I did so. He also explained why I had not been made CPO, indirectly of course, by being surprised at the seniority roll.
We were bussed back to an American shower unit and given a change of underwear. Flying Fortresses dropped a load of bombs intended for the Monastery some fifteen miles behind our lines; we were lucky to escape casualties.
Dry days, wet days, drab and cold days, it became boring. And when that fine day came, it was so beautiful, fresh and sunny, that all I could think of was giving the guns the go-by and taking a pretty girl on a picnic.
It was in this Cassino position that the shelling was too much for my new subaltern fresh out from Blighty I had to ask the BC to remove him because his behaviour could have affected others. He went sick and was next heard of as a Staff Captain at Base. It was not until September that I got my third pip.

漏 Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.