While the infantry rested, their task accomplished, Eighth Divisional artillery and engineers had hurried forward to join in the battle of the Argenta Gap. It was a significant move, recalling Foch’s triumphant summons in the summer of 1918. “The edifice begins to crack. All the world to the battle.” The Wehrmacht had dropped its guard, and staggered dizzily under an avalanche of blows. Fifth Army had struck on a three corps front in Tuscany. Second Polish Corps was in the open. The New Zealanders were across the Senio, the Santerno and the Sillaro. No barrier remained to stem the tide.
Twenty-ninth Panzer Division, the remaining enemy reserve on Eighth Army’s front, made a last unavailing bid to block the narrow gut of the Argenta Gap, only to crack under the unremitting assaults of Seventy-Eighth and Fifty-Sixth British Divisions. Tenth German Army began to break up. Many enemy formations dissolved overnight into groups of spent and broken men who sat by the roadsides and waited for the victors to dispose of them. Others retained their cohesiveness and dropped back with teeth bared, dying hard and extracting the full price of victory.
In the van of the drive into the north-west went 43rd Gurkha Lorried Brigade, serving its sixth. master in six months of almost continuous fighting. (Previous commands had been First Armoured Division, Tenth Indian Division, Fifth Corps, Fifty-Sixth London Division and Second New Zealand Division). On March 8th the Brigade had been given two field regiments, two armoured regiments, sufficient Kangaroos to transport one battalion, and designated as the pursuit group of Second Polish Corps. On April 12th the Gurkhas joined in the hunt. Along the axis of Route 9, the main transverse highway of northern Italy, the Poles drove on Bologna. The right flank was open, and 43rd Brigade, hurried to seize Medicina, an important crossroads through which a counter-attack from the north might be launched. At noon on April 13th, 2/8 Gurkhas, lorried infantry to the outside riding capacity of the tanks of the 14/20th Hussars, swept up to within three miles of the Sillaro river. A network of canals was encountered; although only lightly held by machine-gunners these rhines constituted serious tank obstacles. One after another they were cleared and bridged; but it took the best part of two days to cover the intervening distance to the Sillaro.
The remainder of the Brigade came up, and 2/10 Gurkhas forced the stream in the face of heavy and accurate fire. There was too much German artillery in the neighbourhood to bridge by day; rather than
risk counter-attack before support weapons arrived, the Gurkhas withdrew for a few hours to the eastern bank of the river.
At 0400 hours on April 16th 6th 23rd Field Regiment laid down a shoot and 2/10 Gurkhas recrossed the Sillaro. Within an hour the bridgehead was secure and the sappers at work. By noon a squadron of Hussar tanks with 2/6 Gurkhas in Kangaroos had passed through, heading for Medicina five miles away. Brushing aside rearguards and surmounting in one fashion or another the remaining canals, at twilight the tanks and armoured troop carriers swept up to the outskirts of the town. Brigadier Barker had been warned that paratroopers were in garrison and that enemy reinforcements were hurrying to their support. It was the occasion for a quick and unorthodox blow. A troop of tanks led by Major Browne, followed by fifteen Kangaroos bearing “B” Company under Major Greenwood, thrust for the centre of the town, where a large brick church with a Moorish-looking dome stands above the square. Major Browne’s tank led the way around the corner of the piazza into the main street.
The next ten minutes gave everyone a good deal to remember. One hundred yards away in the narrow street a self-propelled gun squatted against a wall, its crew working furiously. Fifty yards further back two 88-millimetre guns stuck their long noses out of cover. It was a death trap – neck or nothing. Major Browne charged with his troop at his heels. His cannon gunner beat the German crew to the lay, and pumped two rounds into a point blank target. The self-propelled gun slewed sideways, on fire with its crew strewn over the limbers. Sweeping past, the lap gunner dispersed the crews of the 88 millimetre guns with squirts from his Browning at a range of ten feet. At the end of the street Major Browne swung round the corner to confront a German recovery tank twenty yards away, tugging an upended panzer on to even keel. In the same instant a German cyclist stepped from behind a building with a bazooka and hurtled a bomb at touching distance into Major Browne’s tank. Within seconds the self-propelled gun blew up, bringing down several buildings and trapping the remainder of the troop. The Gurkhas had depouched and were racing on the trail; diving through the dust and clambering over the rubble Subedar Raghu Gurung arrived first. He slew the bazooka man as he fitted a second missile. Having dragged Major Browne from his tank badly wounded, his crew armed only with their pistols charged the German panzer.
By now the battle was general. Twenty-two paratroopers, standing at bay in a broken building, died under showers of grenades. In another section of the town the fighting resolved into a foot race, with the Germans outdistancing their pursuers through the streets and into the open countryside. Of forty paratroopers who held the communal school only one elected to fight it out. But in cellars, in alleys, in lofts
and even on the rooftops, grim individual grapples ensued as the Gurkhas hunted to the death. Major Greenwood, bare-headed, carrying a stick and wearing a bright red scarf for identification, moved about the streets in a supervisory role. He reached the German recovery tank with its engine still running. He climbed in and tested the wireless. It came through loud and clear. He shut off the wireless, for it was wasting battery.
Eight o’clock struck in the church tower. An ammunition dump went up in a nearby field with a colossal crash. The Gurkhas continued to put paid to desperate enemies in lairs and hideouts. German tanks arrived outside the village but thought better of coming in. Towards dawn a bazooka man stole up to the vehicle park in the piazza and sent up a Hussar tank in flames. When morning broke six guns, two tanks, one hundred shaken prisoners and dead Germans everywhere were all that remained of the war in Medicina.
The tide of battle swept on. That same day, Tenth Indian Division joined the hunt. The breakthrough tended to develop at right angles, with Fifty-Sixth and Seventy-Eighth Divisions advancing to the north, while the Poles and New Zealanders thrust into the west. A quick move brought 13th Corps out of the mountains. 10th Indian Brigade was placed at the disposal of the New Zealanders, and took up a position on the Kiwis’ right flank, with instructions to extend the breach and to exert the utmost pressure. On the line of the Sillaro the Durhams crossed the river through the front of 5th New Zealand Brigade, and cleared the west bank. There was a holiday air in the countryside. Wherever the Indians paused they were fed and wined. 4/10 Baluchis and 2/4 Gurkha Rifles passed through with most of the infantry riding on tanks. On April 17th the progress was somewhat slower, and on the line of the Quaderno the New Zealanders were held up by violent resistance. With their world falling paratroopers and panzer grenadiers fought on.
Pushing beyond Medicina, 43rd Brigade reached the line of the Gaiana. Here 2/6 Gurkhas took a nasty crack. In a gallant attempt to sustain the momentum of the pursuit this battalion endeavoured to carry that river by storm. Both flanks were open, and the paratroopers were well dug in. Advancing under intense fire, small parties of the hillmen managed to gain the western bank where bitter hand-to-hand fighting followed. One platoon was reduced to seven men. The havildar of another, although wounded four times, killed five Germans single-handed and brought four survivors out of action. When the leading company had been reduced to forty men, the attempt to cross the river was abandoned.
That night the New Zealanders came up on the right flank of the Gurkhas and again took 43rd Brigade under command. Twenty-four hours later a set piece assault was launched on the Gaiana defences.
A monumental barrage of astonishing accuracy marched forward. One hundred and fifty thousand shells were fired to provide a moving shield of steel. Wasp flamethrowers followed and drenched the river banks in torrents of burning oil. The infantry advanced with 2/8 and 2/10 Gurkhas on the left flank of the Kiwis. It was the end of the road for the arrogant desperadoes of Fourth German Parachute Division. A half mile beyond the river 2/10 Gurkhas mopped up a regimental headquarters, killing a senior officer. 2/8 Gurkhas cut down mortar squads while they still served their weapons. Across open country the pursuit veered into the north towards the Idice, the last water barrier before the Po.
On the right of the New Zealanders, the remainder of Tenth Division now came into the picture. On the night of April 19th, 20th Brigade forced the Quaderno and took over the running from 10th Brigade. With 1/2 Punjabis on the right and 2/3 Gurkhas on the opposite flank, the Indians pressed ahead, mopping up scattered pockets of the enemy. On the afternoon of April 20th, advanced patrols reached the Idice, to be confronted with floodbanks thirty feet high, and to find the near bank covered by a wide irrigation ditch at the bottom of the slope. The position was held in force; and for the last time Tenth Division encountered Germans of the type they knew so well – fanatically brave fighters, skilled in battle, contemptuous of death. Contact had been broken with the New Zealanders, and neither air nor artillery support was on call. 1/2 Punjabis moved forward to storm the defences, and plunged into its bitterest fighting of the war.
With great gallantry two platoons of Dogras of “D” Company reached the far bank. While mopping up a German who had already surrendered shot the only remaining officer. British armour arrived, but the tanks either bogged down in the irrigation ditch, or were destroyed by mines and enemy fire. Two platoons of “B” Company, rushing to the aid of the dwindling garrison on the west bank, lost twenty men in ten minutes. “A” Company was trapped against a belt of wire and pelted by machine-guns. Major Sharma fell dead; Subedar Sainchi Singh, in spite of dangerous wounds, led the company until he dropped unconscious. An Australian, Lieut. Lawrence, headed “B” Company in a desperate bayonet charge which destroyed the remaining enemy posts on the eastern bank. A South African artillery observation officer, Lieut. Spiro, took over command of “A” Company and at the same time continued to direct the fire of his guns. On the far bank the Dogras fought to the last man, ringed by implacable enemies who asked and gave no quarter. Seldom in this war have so many died by the steel; when found the Dogras lay in groups clutching their bloody bayonets.
This ferocious fighting marked the end of organized resistance on the front of Thirteenth Corps. When morning broke any Germans who
survived were gone. The remainder of 1/2 Punjabis crossed the Idice without opposition. 3/5 Mahrattas and 2/3 Gurkhas with Skinners’ Horse in the van, thrust into the north-east. It was a notable day everywhere. The Poles were entering Bologna and on the right the advanced screens of Fifth and Thirteenth Corps had reached the Po.
On this same day (April 21st) Eighth Indian Division moved out of rest joyfully. Each British soldier and each sepoy was gripped by the exciting knowledge that the end was in sight. 19th Brigade led, passed through the Argenta Gap and struck for Ferrara, city of classical swordsmen, and for the main Po crossings. 3/8 Punjabis brushed aside light opposition, and at noon on April 22nd closed up on the outskirts of the town. 6th Lancers and Argylls forged ahead to mop up small groups of infantry and armoured cars which sought to delay the pursuit. 21st Brigade joined the hunt, clearing Ferrara airfield to the south-west of the city. A group of panzers in Ferrara station held back the Mahrattas; rather than resort to house to house fighting it was decided to by-pass centres of resistance. 19th Brigade pinned down the defenders, while 21st Brigade swung to the left. Royal West Kents escorted by Churchill tanks of North Irish Horse reached the Po to the north-west of Ferrara on the afternoon of April 23rd. The Jaipurs followed through, and British and Indian infantry spread out along the high bare banks of the mightiest river in Italy.
Prisoners began to be a problem. Along the Po stragglers of hundreds of units waited disconsolately to be picked up. A motley assembly wearing the insignia of many divisions, they cluttered the roads and overflowed into the fields. Some were shaken and even hysterical, but most sat dumbly with blank faces, their courage and manhood exhausted.
21st Brigade swung sharply to the right behind Ferrara to cut the German line of retreat. Six tanks and a strong force of infantry blocked their advance in factory buildings opposite I Gorghi. As the Jaipurs came hustling forward six enemy tanks emerged from two large storage sheds five hundred yards ahead. Four moved off while the others lumbered towards the Indians. The Jaipurs scattered and went to ground. Above them anti-tank guns and North Irish Horse took over the battle. One panzer went up in flames. Thirty German infantry following the tanks raced in full flight over the open fields under a hail of fire.
Next morning the three miles of industrial suburbs and open fields between Ferrara and the main Po crossings were clear of the enemy. Concurrently 21st Brigade pushed into the city from the south-east. Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders searched street after street until they reached the medieval moated fortress in the centre of the town. Eighty-five prisoners and a number of tanks in working order were taken. Ferrara was relatively undamaged, only the road ramps
approaching the city having been bombed. The inhabitants were in good heart, well dressed, well fed, and full of enthusiasm for their liberators. Here for the first time appeared the neo-partisans, who were to become nuisances afterwards – brassarded young men with shiny tommy guns which had never seen the light of day until the enemy was gone. These intrepid patriots roved the streets upon vague errands not unconnected with private scores.
The principal Po bridges at Ponte Lagoscuro were more than 200 yards in length. Their crumpled ironwork lay in the bed of the river. As the first to arrive, Eighth Indian Division inherited the task of constructing crossings. The banks were precipitous, the river swift, and time pressed. The great width put an immediate Bailey bridge out of the picture. (Later, South African sappers built a triple Bailey bridge over 1,000 feet in length on this site – perhaps the longest on record.) It was therefore a case of aerial cable-ways, pontoons or amphibious craft. The latter were nearest at hand. Through the endless lines of traffic pushing up to the river came tank carriers bearing Fantails, DUKWS, amphibious Shermans, and quick-moving storm boats.
April 25th will long be remembered by men of Eighth Indian Division as a day of almost lunatic confusion. Traffic jams blocked every approach to the Po. Bulldozers broke down on the launching ramps. German guns accurately shelled the embarkation sites. Nevertheless the time table was preserved and at 2200 hours two companies of Royal West Kents were waterborne to lead the crossing. They landed against negligible opposition. Before dawn 3/15 Punjabis also were over the river. A squadron of 6th Lancers rafted their armoured cars across and explored the countryside for five miles ahead. On the left, 17th Brigade began a similar crossing soon after midnight, with Royal Fusiliers leading. The amphibious Shermans followed with infantry clinging to the tanks. Support arms followed, and the Indian brigades pushed into the north in full cry.
Everywhere groups of Germans stood along the roadside, shoulders drooping, hands held aloft. A low-flying screen from Desert Air Force searched the countryside ahead of the armoured cars and tanks. By the evening of April 27th patrols from 6th Lancers, 1/5 Gurkhas and 1/12 Frontier Force Regiment had reached the Adige, fifteen miles beyond the Po. This substantial river, even. swifter than the Po, ordinarily would have been regarded as a serious obstacle. But the pace was ever quickening, and the exciting procession of sights and sounds – deliriously happy Italians, girls with flowers and old gentlemen with wine, the vast debris of a broken army everywhere, the long columns of dead-faced enemies trudging into the south – had galvanized all from commander to sepoy with a single urge – to be in at the death. General Russell had ordered his men to hurry, and he also issued a
set plan for the crossing of the Adige. The two instructions did not coincide, so the first took precedence. 19th Brigade swarmed over the river on anything that would float – rafts, rowboats, even on battens and spars. When the amphibious tanks arrived sepoys who could not swim took a firm hold and were towed across. Thus Eighth Indian Division passed over its last river in Italy.
Glittering prizes gleamed ahead. Twenty-five miles to the north of the Adige stood the ancient university city of Padua. Beyond, fifteen miles of autostrada stretched to the end of the causeway which ran across the lagoon to Venice. General Russell rose in his stirrups. 19th Brigade group with 6th Lancers was ordered to dash through in lorries. A company of Frontier Force Rifles mounted on amphibious tanks of 7th Hussars raced forward by another road. 68 and 69 Field Companies, working at top speed, threw a bridge across the Adige on the night of April 28th. The armoured screen of 6th Lancers tore into the north, covering fifty-two miles in a morning. But there were other runners, and in inside positions. Fifty-Sixth London Division had scrambled across the Po to the west of Ferrara. Still further west the New Zealanders, ever in the van, were thrusting from the south-west at full speed. With the Kiwis came 43rd Gurkha Lorried Brigade, hurdling rivers, brushing aside opposition and oblivious of everything except that the end was near.
As the advance neared Padua, transport conditions became incredible. Mile upon mile of vehicles crawled nose to tail. 43rd Brigade turned aside to secure Este, while the Kiwis barged on. In this mad traffic scramble Tenth Indian Division reached the end of the road. After the bitter fighting at the Idice crossing 25th Brigade had passed through 20th Brigade, and had thrust swiftly northwards. By the evening of April 22nd Skinners’ Horse was in screen far ahead of King’s Own, 3/1 Punjabis and 3/18 Garhwalis. But even armoured cars could make little headway, and Tenth Division found itself in the centre of a vast cone of traffic converging on Ferrara and the Po crossings. Trapped between these tides of transport the Indians were crowded off the roads in the triangle between the Bologna-Ferrara highway and the single road which ran into the north through the Argenta Gap. On the banks of the Reno; at the small muddy village of Malabergo, their advance ceased. Hope revived when Thirteenth Corps, with perhaps more pessimism than the situation warranted, briefed Tenth Division for assault should the enemy stand along the picturesque ridges of Collei Eugenei, high ground studded with castles and monasteries to the south-east of Padua. Before the stricken quarry could reach this covert, the kill came.
Eighth Division likewise found no road-room beyond the Adige. 21st Brigade never crossed the last river. The privateering expedition of elements of 19th Brigade was abandoned in endless traffic jams
around Rovigo. Farthest ahead, the Frontiersmen riding as outside passengers on 7th Husaar tanks were obliged to relinquish their seats to the south of Padua, and to give up the chase. Yet such are the fortunes of war that Eighth Indian Division was vouchsafed the opportunity of adding a postscript to its great record in the Italian campaign. While German emissaries were presenting themselves at Allied headquarters to accept a victor’s terms, a squadron of 6th Lancers moved northward on escort duty, through Trento into the Italian Alps. Far up on the road to Austria, partisans brought word of a German division dug in on a rocky hillside under the snow-clad peaks, and determined to fight to the death. The armistice was two days old when Lieutenant Conisbee, with two Sikhs and six Jats, went forward to, investigate. In an eyrie well-nigh as impregnable as Cassino he found what survived of the men who had held Monastery Hill and Snake’s Head Ridge – the First German Parachute Division. He was bluntly informed that the German commander would only surrender his force if met by an officer of his own rank. General Russell was far away, and an American general close at hand. Yet it was some consolation to know that Eighth Indian Division was represented by this small patrol at the capitulation of such formidable adversaries.
Of the Indian forces, only 43rd Gurkha Lorried Brigade remained on the move. Carried forward by the irresistible swoop of the New Zealanders, Brigadier Barker and his men stood a fair chance of seeing the curtain fall from a front row in the stalls. On April 30th the citizens of Padua stood all day in the rain, lining the streets to cheer madly as the fighting vehicles flashed past into the north. But as they arrived, the lorries bearing the crossed kukris were diverted into the main square. In the Paduan suburbs a certain amount of bushwhacking was in progress, as Fascist snipers sought belated martyrdom. Red-scarfed bandoliered youths began to celebrate liberation by summary executions, by shaving women’s heads and throwing collaborationists into the river. Padua needed a garrison. The Gurkha Brigade took charge and when Cease Fire blew, the city had regained its staid and civilized tradition.
In the fields, around the village fountains, in the billets of the towns, the sepoys told the civilians, “Guerra è finita”. The volatile Italians cheered and cried and celebrated; the Indians were kissed and embraced and wined and fed. They took it all gravely. It had been such a long road that it was a little difficult to realize that the march was over. It was hard to believe that a man might walk upright and openly in the daylight without death seeking him. That night hereafter would be a time for sleep instead of for bitter marches and grim encounters – this too seemed a strange thing. The dim years in Eritrea, Syria, Iran, Iraq, Western Desert and Tunisia blended with the bright yesterday in the common crucible of battle. Now in a trice something
had supervened. The job was finished, the vocation of the acolyte withdrawn. There was satisfaction yet some disquiet, in the knowledge that it was all over.
This collection transcribed by Chris Gage