At 0400 hours on 11 May, the Irish Brigade was harboured in its concentration area at Presonzano, which was off Highway Six just south of Mignano. It was comfortably out of gunshot behind the centre of our front, and as Pat remarked, ‘….perhaps more importantly, away from the racket of our own gun positions.’
The whole of the day following was devoted to preparation for battle, and to Ion’s instructions to us. I am sorry to say that until that time, I had often found myself opposed to him and, knowing the views of the company commanders, I was not mature enough to realise that there are better ways of resolving matters than by direct confrontation. Fortunately on this day, the 11th of May, intuition or something caused all this to drop away, and one and all united on all matters.
At the conclusion of our discussion – orders, in fact – Ion went off for a walk and came back quite excited having located some quail. So we took out my 28 bore and went off together in search of them. The results were ineffective as the little birds raced into the nearby high crops and declined to get up. Still, it was a pleasant distraction. The 28 bore, incidentally, will fire the 2” mortar cartridges, so I knew that we would never lack ammunition when campaigning. The little weapon travelled around with me in and out of the line for most of the war.
The plan ahead of us, beginning that night, involved an assault by the 5th and 8th Armies on a nineteen mile arc from Monte Cassino to the sea, the rest of the front being denuded for the purpose.
There was also an elaborate deception plan involving the Canadian Corps, and ostentatious boating operations in the Bay of Naples – with equally ostentatious air reconnaissance over the Civitavecchia beaches. This had the object of inducing German belief that a new seaborne landing was about to happen north of Rome. Fortunately for us, Kesselring fell for the idea, and kept two of his divisions up there out of the battle until the issue in the south was already decided.
On our front, the Polish Corps had the task of attacking round the monastery from the north-west, and this in reality was a holding attack, although not often mentioned as such. Below them, in the Liri valley, was 78 Division’s sector, and we were assigned the task of breaking through after the 4th Division had secured a bridgehead over the Rapido. The front of this attack ran from Cassino station to San Angelo, and our ultimate objective was to cut Highway Six behind Monte Cassino at Piedimonte, thereby forcing the monastery garrison and all those anchored on it to put out or be surrounded.
We were, in fact, assaulting the hinge of the German positions and, in accordance with King Louis’ ancient practice, the Irish Brigade was leading the attack of 78 Division on that part of the line where the battle would be decided.
In view of Charles Keightley’s recent favours, the decision was a natural one, and Pat never even commented on it, either at the time or in his narrative afterwards. I never heard the point referred to within the Irish Brigade, though all knew this battle to be the decisive one of our time, and our position in it was accepted as the challenge that we knew it to be.
The German defences in our sector were known as the Gustav Line and the occupants, at this moment, consisted of part of the 44th and the whole of the 305th Infantry Divisions and the 1st Parachute Regiment. The other two regiments of the 1st Para Division were, of course, occupied in defending Monte Cassino.
We were assigned the service of the 16th/5th Lancers for our part in the proceedings, and the Lancers were equipped with the admirable Sherman tank.
Pat and the general came round to talk to the battalion on that lovely spring evening. The troops just sat round them on the grass while they did so, and for pre-battle exhortations neither could have done better. Pat, of course, made the kind of speech which was only possible with Irish regiments, and General Keightley tactfully withdrew out of earshot while he was doing it. They came in for a drink with us afterwards, and after dinner, I went round to call on Bala at the Skins’ HQ and, lastly, on James Dunnill and Hugh.
At 11pm that evening of 11 May, over a thousand guns of the 8th Army opened fire simultaneously on the Gustav Line. Although several miles back from the sector, the earth tremor was continuous and the base of the sky to the north became a solid orange glow. I don’t think that anyone ever got used to barrages.
From 0900 hours on Friday 12th, we were at one hour’s notice to move and, shortly afterwards, was increased to four, thereby indicating that the 4th Division were in trouble. Both of their forward brigades had forced crossings over the Rapido, but they had met violent resistance along the whole length of the sector and suffered heavily in the process. By dawn in fact, both brigades were only holding on to the river bank by their eyelids and they had failed to dislodge the enemy or to bridge the river. Furthermore, one of them was swiftly wiped up in counter attack an hour or two later and flung back over the water. In consequence, there was a temporary pause for reflection and our entry on to the stage was delayed.
Ion and I spent most of the day with the company commanders and our maps, but that evening Robert Gill, Watson and Bull of the 16th/5th came in for drinks and stayed to dine, Bala, Pat Scott and Jimmy Stewart, the BM, also joined us and we all found the new company of our cavalrymen both pleasant and stimulating .
Elsewhere, there was regrettable incident as the pet goose of a neighbouring artillery battery made the mistake of waddling in to our MT lines, where it was promptly massacred and eaten by Ivan’s henchman. The gunners were quite upset. It had been with them since Alamein. Ivan said afterwards that he couldn’t think why they had such a stupid attitude. ‘We did offer them some of it,’ he said.
The following morning at first light, the Gurkhas of 8 Indian Division got in to San Angelo in the centre of the sector and started to unhook the German river front defences. Shortly afterwards, a second effort by 4 Division sealed the fate of the little place and, by the end of the day, they had two bridges across, with a bridgehead a quarter of a mile or more deep.
While these interesting events were in progress that afternoon, Ion and I watched two of our companies playing football and, later, our drums and pipes put on ‘Retreat’. It was another perfect evening but for the continuous roar of our guns in the background.
We went over to the Skins for the evening refreshment and, while there, our instructions arrived to move up the line at 0400 hours.
Ion gave out his orders at 10pm.