To counteract this problem, he began splitting up his reserve divisions, and placing them in ‘penny-packets’ all along the line. One of his best was the veteran 15th Panzer Division, which had been split into battalions rather than kept as a whole. Similarly, Major Georg Zellner’s 3rd Battalion ‘Hoch-und-Deutschmeister’ Reichs Grenadier Regiment was part of 44th Infantry Division, but while he and a few other units were in the mountains north of Cassino, the rest of the division was sprinkled in the Liri Valley.
The problem with this approach was that it reduced the fighting capacity of the division; a smaller unit, such as a battalion, was obviously easier to overwhelm than an entire division. This was the kind of mistake the British used to make in North Africa before Alexander and Montgomery arrived and put a stop to it. Furthermore, it meant unit commanders were constantly faced with differing chains of command and different superiors. In battle, there is much to be said for familiarity and trust.
Struggling their way into this mayhem was the Werfer Regiment 71. They had been part of General Baade’s Army Group Reserve, but had now been hastily attached to the 90th Panzer Grenadier Division, which in turn had also been split up and posted to 51st Mountain Corps. The division’s progress to the front was piecemeal and too slow, although Werfer Regiment 71 were among the first to hurry south; Oberleutnant Hans Golda’s 8th Battery were nearing the front by the evening of the 12th. Artillery shells screamed overhead as he reached the staff post and was given his orders. With the light going, he and his unit set off again, to a bunker along the Gustav Line between Pignataro and Pontecorvo, and halfway from the ruins of Cassino town to the River Liri. ‘We were driving into a witches’ cauldron,’ noted Hans. ‘The night was pitch dark. Only the flash of the artillery broke through the darkness. The crashing, roaring and screaming was first of all in front of us and then all around us.’52 Nervously, they inched their way forward, the drivers dodging shell holes, the men lying flat on the ammunition and trying to make themselves as small as possible. Hans prayed they wouldn’t receive a direct hit.
Eventually they reached their new position. Hans was pleased to see that the Organisation Todt had built the bunkers reasonably well. Ammunition was stored and the werfers assembled and readied for firing. Soon after, a report arrived that enemy tanks were uncomfortably close: Hans’s battery was now firing into the shallow bridgehead made by 8th Indian Division. Ahead was the wreck of the village of Sant’ Angelo, which had been completely pulverised. ‘I set up an OP [observation post],’ noted Hans, ‘got it manned and detailed the anti-tank troop to man it.’53 With luck, these men would be able to provide a brief delaying action should the enemy completely break through.
* * *
To the south, US II Corps were now renewing their assault on the troublesome 400-foot-high and well-defended Spigno Ridge. It was another costly effort, although this time Lieutenant Bob Wiggans and his Company D were not part of the main assault on Hill 131. Rather, that honour went to Company I of the 338th Infantry. At the end of their attack, just sixteen men were left standing. Nonetheless, despite further setbacks and a certain amount of confusion by two new divisions fighting at night, the Americans stuck at their bloody task and in the early hours the Germans began to pull back. By morning on the 14th, most of the Spigno Saturnia Ridge, including Hill 131, was in US hands. By the following afternoon, Santa Maria Infante – another village utterly obliterated – was taken too.
On the Americans’ right, the French were also continuing their extraordinary advance. On the 14th, they broke into the Ausente Valley and captured Ausonia, a key town, before pushing on towards Esperia. And as they retreated, the German 71st Division was becoming more and more separated from the 94th Division opposing the Americans. For once the Italian landscape was working to the Allies’ advantage, for dividing the retreating Germans was the wedge of an almost trackless ridge of the Aurunci Mountains.
On the night of the 14th, Bob Wiggans led his platoon over Hill 131, picking his way through the American and German dead who lay thick across the ground. He’d not slept a wink since the battle had begun and yet now his men’s spirits were soaring. They felt they were at last on the road to Rome. So, too, did Mark Clark, even though he felt the two rookie divisions had been fortunate. ‘My fears,’ he noted in his diary, ‘that the enemy might react to our lack of aggressive attitude toward Spigno did not materialise.’54 In fact, much to Kesselring’s chagrin, the 94th Division opposite the Americans had disobeyed a direct order, and had placed their reserve troops along the coast rather than in the mountains ready to plug the gaps. Perhaps in the confusion the order never reached them – at any rate, once German losses began to mount, and it became clear there were no large-scale reinforcements available, General Hartmann, von Senger’s deputy, ordered his men to fall back. Clark expected a lot from everyone under his command, not least American troops new to battle, but the fact remained that the Americans had bludgeoned the German 94th Division to 40 per cent of its fighting strength on and around the Spigno Ridge. With the French leading the way, the breakthrough had been achieved. With the Gustav Line now broken in the US II Corps sector as well, the entire southern half of the Allied push was surging forward.
In the Liri Valley, however, XIII Corps were still struggling to make any serious headway. The stumbling block was the River Garigliano. Only by nightfall on the 14th was the full quota of nine pre-planned Bailey bridges completed, but even these represented major bottlenecks through which men and materiel had to pass. And where there are bottlenecks there are greater targets for the enemy. While it had been 8th Indian and 4th Division that had been given the job of leading the assault across the Gari, 78th and 6th Armoured had been kept in reserve. On the 15th, Leese and his XIII Corps commander, Lieutenant-General Sidney Kirkman, decided the time had come to send 78th Division into the breach, combined with the Poles’ second assault on Monte Cassino. Unfortunately, traffic congestion, along with German mines and concentrated shelling, ensured that 78th Division was unable to cross the river in time – and so the attack was postponed until the morning, as was that of the Poles.
This breather for the Germans was greatly welcomed, not least by Oberleutnant Hans Golda and his men, although he himself was in trouble with Dink, one of his gunners. During a moment of comparative peace, Hans had spotted a rabbit hopping about not far from their position. Taking a rifle, he drew a bead and shot it dead, then proudly showed his men their next meal. Dink, however, was appalled. ‘He explained to me that I had killed one of his rabbits that he had been fattening up with a lot of effort,’ noted Hans, ‘and that it had been completely tame.’ Needless to say, Hans was the subject of much ridicule, although as he admitted, ‘We polished off the object despite all the laughter that went on.’
The mirth did not last long. That evening, 15 May, their position was once again under fire. What Hans termed ‘bunker breakers’ were whistling over. He and his men could only cower in the corners, staring at the roof. After every explosion the entire bunker shook. Soon there was a loud crash followed by a scream. ‘One of our young lads had been hit,’ wrote Hans, ‘an open wound between the shoulders.’55
Also cowering in their bunker a few miles to the north, in a narrow valley between the mountains, were Major Georg Zellner and his battalion staff of the 3rd Battalion of the H und D Regiment. Opposite them were the New Zealanders of X Corps, and although this stretch of the line was not part of the main thrust of the attack, the Kiwis were still keeping up the pressure. ‘Planes and crashing of bombs,’ noted Georg. ‘We can’t get out of our bunker.’
Every time a shell whistled through the air towards them, Georg wondered whether it was their turn to get a direct