While the allies were napping, the opportunistic German commander Field Marshall Kesserling brought up massive reinforcements. He embedded howitzers and mortars on the hills circling the beach and rained death on the Americans. Ships in the harbor were sunk and badly damaged with a huge loss of life. Steve’s ship pulled out of range early and avoided harm.
Tanks deployed by Kesserling pointed their devastating 88 mm guns at the Americans on the beach killing and wounding thousands. Anzio was one of the worst American military debacles of the war in Europe, and it could have been avoided had aggressive forward action been taken early in the invasion.
After weeks of havoc, the reinforced Americans broke out of the now-widened beachhead, the Germans retreated to a stronger northern position and Rome was taken. Steve got off the ship, was given new orders to a place he thought was on the Adriatic coast. Why there and why me, and who figures this shit out? Because all roads supposedly lead to Rome, Steve’s unit rode through. He caught glimpses of some landmarks: the Tiber River, Vatican City, the Coliseum and lots of fountains.
The Italians cheered, and he saw pretty, smiling girls in summer dresses and was reminded, as if he needed it, of Suzanne. The driver was going around in circles and needed directions. They were allowed to get out of the truck near the Spanish Steps. Nearby, a comely American captain stood next to a grinning major. His body language displayed all the appearances of courting. Steve approached them and saluted. “Excuse me, Captain; are you with the Nurse Corps?”
“Yes, I am. What do you want to know
“By some chance have you seen a nurse named Suzanne Cousineau?”
“As a matter of fact I have. We were on a ship off Anzio together.”
“Do you know where she is now?”
“No, I don’t. She was among a detachment of nurses that was sent ashore.”
“Was that after the breakout?”
“No, they were sent during the worst part of the fighting.” She saw Steve’s face darken. “I probably shouldn’t have told you that. I don’t know where that group is now. I’m sorry.”
The guys on the truck knew that Steve had gotten bad news, and when he stared into the middle distance they left him alone. It was June 6, 1944.
The convoy rode east just south of the German lines. Steve was again put in an armored personnel carrier to transmit coded messages. It seemed that Italy had become the forgotten war. All anyone wanted to talk about was the invasion of Normandy. Through the clutter, he picked up that the Germans established a new defensive line that stretched eastward through the central portion of the Apennine Mountain chain and on to the Adriatic coast. And he understood that soon he would be out of the relative safety of the armored truck and moving north to help shatter that line.
Despite that prospect, Steve’s spirits quickly reconstituted. Although he couldn’t bear to bring her photo out, he willed himself to believe that Suzanne survived Anzio, was the radiant woman of his memories and would be his lover and friend once more.
As in the battle of Monte Cassino, Steve was an artillery observer leading a squad in a forward platoon. He knew that most artillery observers were officers and had gone to school for special training. He also knew that, like his assignment at Monte Cassino, most of them were dead or wounded, and he was a necessary replacement.
Also like Monte Cassino, the Germans were entrenched and experienced. Unlike Cassino, the hills were heavily wooded, and the enemy was potentially behind every tree. Some of the veterans had been in brutal fighting on the German Winter Line, and their attitude was fatalistic. One, who had been in the Battle of San Pietro, said, “If you’re going to get it, and you eventually will, it might as well be here.”
Before the climb toward entrenched German positions began, two advance scouts were dispatched to separate quadrants. No messages were received and neither returned. Since no shots were heard it was assumed that they escaped along a flank and were working their way back, or been captured, or killed silently. After a heated debate, the artillery laid down a heavy barrage above the topmost perimeter of the scout’s agreed-upon range. The fire control officers didn’t know what they were aiming at and what effect the shells might have.
Steve gathered his squad. “We’re going into an unknown situation. The best way to avoid being killed is kill them first. Keep separated, but keep me in sight and watch my hand signals. Speak only when absolutely necessary. Help each other, and we’ll get through it and out the other side. Check your weapons.”
(This vignette from a much-longer scene was excerpted from WW11 Soldier Flier Prisoner Partisan: Missing in Action and Presumed Dead)
@rnoyes1
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