Most men of the 504 were reluctant to leave their new-found home in Sicily; grapes were ripe for one thing, the language was much easier than the thousand and one Arab dialects encountered in Africa, and then the Sicilians, who were firmly convinced that their homeland was now an “American Island”, were quite willing to show their new bosses a good time.
An order from Fifth Army headquarters, however, returned the regiment to Kairouan, North Africa, where it became immediately evident that another parachute mission was in the wind. Replacements were absorbed by the companies, training was resumed, and the 3rd Battalion was once again detached from the regiment – this time they were sent to Bizerte for special beach assault training with the Rangers and the 325th Glider Infantry.
Orders soon came for the 504 to return to Sicily; a more suitable jumping-off place for the invasion of Italy. They again boarded planes in Africa and flew, this time undisturbed by enemy and friendly flak, to Comiso, and Trapani, Sicily.
Weeks of preparation for a jump at Capua, briefings, tiny scale models of the proposed drop zone expertly carved by former German toy makers – were forgotten. The mission to Capua had been cancelled; the enemy had been warned and was waiting on the DZ.
Then there was the mission where men of the regiment were to jump on Rome, and with the help of Italian partisans, occupy the city. That, too, had been cancelled – and only three minutes before the scheduled take-off. 504 men were disgusted at the time, but subsequently felt differently when they learned the full story of General Taylor’s negotiations with Marshal Badoglio in Rome, and of his resultant decision to stop the 504 from jumping into what his eleventh-hour information disclosed to be a trap.
The 3rd Battalion then moved to Licata and rejoined the 325th and the Rangers. Here they boarded LCIs and set out to sea; they knew they were going to Italy, but other than that, information was vague. H Company’s boats left the convoy, and on September 9, with a group of Rangers, made the initial landings on the Italian coast at Maiori. Opposition on the beach was slight, and the parachutists quickly advanced into the mountains overlooking the coast where they captured the now famous Chiunzi Pass and a vital railroad tunnel.
G, Headquarters, and I Companies, with the remainder of the 325th Combat Team, swerved south and on September 11, landed on the bloody Salerno beach. The Luftwaffe and the American and British Air Forces provided an overhead show that ran 24 hours a day. That the military situation at Salerno was not as it should have been became more evident with each passing hour; German tanks and strong infantry forces were pressing relentlessly toward the beach, and the word was passed around that it would be fight or swim. No paratrooper on that beach was in the mood for a twelve-mile swim, and with the prospects of a last-ditch stand staring them in the face, men of the 3rd Battalion settled down and awaited developments.
The remainder of the 504 was restlessly waiting at airfields in Comiso, and Trapani, Sicily, for the parachute mission that they had been told to expect. On September 13, they were again alerted. “Another dry run”, was the cynical comment of most men. Nevertheless, each man gave his equipment a last-minute check – just in case. Early chow was eaten and immediately afterward the troops fell in at their bivouac areas in the appointed plane loading formations; then marched to the battered and roofless hangars where they picked up their chutes.
It was not until the men were seated in the planes that the mission was disclosed. In probably the briefest briefing of any comparable operation of the war, men of the 504 were informed that the Fifth Army beachhead in Italy was in grave danger of being breached; that the 504 was to jump behind friendly lines in the vicinity of the threatened breakthrough in order to stem the German advance. A pathfinder group was going in ahead with special equipment to guide the planes into the DZ, the center of which the Fifth Army was to indicate with a large flaming “T”. That was all; no one knew specifically what was to be required of him – nothing more than the fact that the Fifth Army was endangered and that the 504 was needed badly. Each man felt an inward surge of pride in his importance. Morale climbed.
As the planes speed down the air strip and lifted into the night sky, these men felt that they had a big assignment ahead of them; the rescuing of the Fifth Army. Though some may have had misgivings about what the morrow would bring, they were confident in their strength and happy to be on the way.
Shortly after midnight the planes, flying in a column of battalions, passed over the clearly marked DZ and unloaded their human cargoes. With the exception of eight planes which failed to navigate properly to the DZ, but whose planeloads were subsequently accounted for, there was little difficulty or confusion experienced in completing the operation. Assembly was made in the designated areas with a minimum loss of time and a later check revealed that only 75 men had suffered injuries as a result of the jump. This mission is still regarded as history’s greatest example of the mobility of airborne troops – in exactly eight hours the 504 had been notified of its mission, briefed, loaded into planes, jumped on its assigned drop zone, and committed against the enemy.
On the DZ, situated a few hundred yards from the beach and two miles South of Paestum, the boom of cannon and the flash of gunfire were distinctly evident a short distance to the North. Assembled, organized, and entrucked, the regiment was within the hour moving slowly, along the road that led in the direction from whence the sounds of battle came.
By dawn the regiment, less the 3rd Battalion, was firmly emplaced in a defensive sector three miles from Paestum and Southwest of Albanella. The days of the 14th and 15th of September were spent in anticipation of a tank attack that threatened from the Calore River region to the North. The 2nd Battalion assisted in the repulsing of one tank attack across the Sele River while E Company, on a reconnaissance in force of the same area, encountered scattered and small elements of the enemy. The regimental recon platoon patrolled the area several miles to the front and battalions also sent out reconnaissance and combat patrols of their own with particular emphasis on the Altavilla sector.
Hostile artillery fire was spasmodic and largely interdictory in character. Air activity was confined principally to friendly craft, though the enemy in groups of two and three would occasionally make an appearance over 504 positions only to be driven off by intense fire from supporting anti-aircraft units.
On the morning of the 16th, the regiment marched four miles to occupy the town of Albanella, where at noon, Col. Tucker issued to the battalion commanders the order to seize and hold the high ground surmounting Altavilla.
The days following were, in the words of Gen. Mark W. Clark, commander of the Fifth Army, “responsible for saving the Salerno beachhead”. Men of the 1st and 2nd Battalions advanced across the flat valley floor, were subjected to intense enemy artillery and small arms fire; contact between the battalions and the CP group were lost, but all units pressed relentlessly forward and in spite of overwhelming enemy superiority in numbers, took their assigned objectives. The enemy counter-attacked stubbornly, and on the night of the 17th, it became evident that help had to be secured if the 504, now completely cut off from friendly forces, was to hold these key positions so necessary for the security of the beachhead.
General Dawley, commander of the Sixth Corps, was contacted by radio, and suggested that the regiment withdraw and attempt to establish a line nearer to the beach. It was then that Col. Tucker uttered the statement that epitomized the saga of Altavilla – “Retreat, Hell! – Send me my other battalion!” The 3rd Battalion was then sent to rejoin the regiment. They moved into position on Hill 344, the 1st and 2nd Battalions repulsed strong enemy counter-attacks, contact between the units was made, and the Salerno beachhead was saved. The next day the 504 was relieved by elements of the 36th Division.
This, the first contact with the enemy for men of the 504 since Sicily and the first time that the regiment had been committed as a unit in any single tactical operation, was a battle that turned the tide of the German onslaught on the Salerno beachhead and frustrated their attempts to contain the Fifth Army within the confines of the coastal plain reaching as far as Altavilla. With its flanks secured, the Fifth Army was at liberty to extend itself northward in the direction of Salerno, and ultimately to Naples.
The area in the region of Altavilla for several years had been a firing range for a German artillery school; consequently, there was no problem of range, deflection, or prepared concentrations that the enemy had not solved long before the advent of the Americans. Needless to say, hostile artillery and mortar fire was extremely accurate and capable of pinpointing with lethal concentrations such vital features as wells, trails, and draws. During the three days that the 504 occupied the several hills behind Altavilla, approximately 30 paratroopers died, 150 were wounded, and one man was missing in action.
The majority of these casualties were caused by the enemy’s artillery fire. Enemy casualties were, judging from the number of dead left on the field of battle and from information divulged by prisoners, several times those of the regiment. Four separate and distinct attacks by the enemy launched from the North, East, and West of 504 positions were driven back with heavy casualties resulting for the Germans.
On the morning of September 20, the 504, less the 3rd Battalion, moved back into a reserve position. The 3rd Battalion moved directly from Hill 344 to Blue Beach in the vicinity of Paestum where they boarded LCIs and headed toward Maiori to join H Company, still holding out with the Rangers at Chiunzi Pass.
For the remainder of the regiment, the period 20-25 September, was for the most part one of rest and resupply. However, road patrols were maintained by the regimental recon platoon which at the same time kept in constant touch with the British Eighth Army on the right flank. The enemy had apparently withdrawn to the North, and the report of the villagers was always the same – that the Germans had passed through in trucks a day or two before headed North.
Before noon on the 25th, the regiment was ordered to join the 3rd Battalion and boarded LCIs at Red Beach where they skirted the coast to Maiori.
Terrain in this sector was precipitous and hilly with plenty of concealment provided by underbrush and trees. All evidence of the enemy was confined to the valley which stretched like a vast carpet below – the Valley of Naples. Even in the valley there was little, aside from an occasional truck movement or a gun flash, to be seen of the Germans. Positions were occasionally shelled, particularly that portion of the road that wound around the mountain and came out in full view of the German guns located at the base of Mount Vesuvius some ten miles to the front. This outlet was known as Chiunzi Pass – but because of trigger-happy German artillerymen, was promptly renamed “88” Pass by 504 men.
On September 28, the regiment contacted the British 10th Corps, and moved out in the attack, spearheading the drive for the great port of Naples. British tanks skirted around the base of Mt. Vesuvius to the East, bypassing the city, while 504 men turned West, captured Castellamare, drove North along the coast, and on October 1, 1943, became the first infantry unit to enter Naples. The 82nd Airborne Division was ordered to garrison the city and the 504 CP was established at the Pretura of Naples near Garibaldi Station.
The entrance of the 504, the first unit to enter Naples, was a stirring one. The populace, hysterical with joy, shook hands, kissed the cheeks of surprised but not bashful Americans, threw flowers, and in short, extended themselves to the utmost in their efforts to make sure that the newcomers considered themselves welcome.
The city was a scene of ruin, starvation, and general wretchedness. Bombed buildings were to be seen everywhere and the streets were littered with an accumulation of rubble piled by months of bombing. The public utilities – water, gas, and electricity – had each been carefully and systematically destroyed by the enemy on the eve of his departure from the city. Business was at a standstill, with the exception of an occasional barber who did, needless to say, a great trade.
Looting was common, riots were in constant occurrence, and everywhere the American soldier was called upon by civilians to arbitrate and judge their street differences. For most Americans this was a difficult and most irksome task, inasmuch as the language was foreign and the simultaneous pleadings and cajolings of the conflicting parties for a judgment would increase in intensity and dramatic quality until the confused soldier in his inability to understand the accusations, or even have the faintest idea of the bone of contention, would throw up his hands in dismay to wash himself of the whole affair. Then the Italians would smile gently and mutter with a little nod in the direction of the American, “No capisco”.
These were happy days; duty was light, wine, women, and song were the order of the day, and with each passing week Naples could be seen to progress another degree toward business and life as usual. Shops and cafes opened gradually in spite of the scars of war. Then came inflation – everything doubled, then tripled, in price; champagne, wine, and cognac disappeared in favor of a new and more deadly beverage – “Ten-minute” cognac. Pure medicinal alcohol, with sugar and water added, and primed with a few drops of the essence of cognac, was bottled, labeled, aged, and sold on the streets within a matter of minutes.
Naples and its dubious pleasures had begun to pall on most men and it was with a certain amount of enthusiasm that the news of a forthcoming mission was received. Advance information indicated that the mission involved the assaulting of precipitous mountain positions. A group of thirty men was dispatched to the Fifth Army Mountain Climbing School near Naples to receive specialized training in cliff scaling and mountain climbing.
On October 27, 1943, the 504 Combat Team moved by truck to a bivouac area in the vicinity of Castello d’Alife. It became apparent at that time that the objective would not be the assault of any particular mountain position, but instead to make a general advance toward Isernia, about 25 miles due North from Alife. Two days later, the 504 launched an epic attack through the mountains of central Italy that was to carry them 22 miles ahead of the Fifth Army on their left and the Eighth Army on their right. Driving North toward Gallo, in a battle that proved for the most part to be one of physical stamina interspersed with sharp patrol engagements, the 504 crossed the Volturno, entered the rail and road center of Isernia, cleared Colli, Macchia, Fornelli, Cerro, and Rochetta, and 15 men from H and I Companies doggedly fought their way through mine fields to reach the summit of Hill 1017 – the Fifth Army objective and key point of the entire sector.
All supplies in this advance were of necessity carried by men and mules, since jeepable roads were non-existent. Communication was extremely difficult to maintain because the front was wide, the distance between the regimental CP and the battalions great, and inclusive of rough and rocky mountains. Because of the constant forward movement and redisposition of the unit’s elements, it was necessary for the wire team to work night and day in their efforts to provide even the barest minimum of communication required for the efficient functioning of the Combat Team.
Probably the most valuable asset possessed by the 504 in this phase of the Italian campaign was dogged stamina and the initiative and will to overcome or circumvent all obstacles in their pursuance of the part they were ordered to play in this operation.
On this mission, almost without exception, combat was restricted to small local engagements between patrols over a broad front. The terrain was such that no distinct front line, either enemy or friendly, could be designated. German patrols operated behind our “lines” and the same thing was true of the American patrols to an even greater extent. It is in this type of warfare that the 504 proved itself to be the unequivocal master of the enemy; there were few encounters, even when the Germans had the advantage of numerical superiority, that the enemy didn’t come out second best. Trained to fight in small independent groups, in the technique of scouting and stealth, and for stamina and perseverance, the paratroopers proved the value of their specialized preparation for combat.
With the enemy failing back for a stand along a line running from Cardito to Alfedena, the 504 Combat Team was warned to stand by for a displacement forward to Scapoli. However, before any such movement began, the CT was ordered into Corps reserve, its positions to be exchanged with the 133rd Infantry.
The 3rd Battalion moved to the rear on November 23, followed by the remainder of the Combat Team on successive days thereafter. At Ciorlano, Thanksgiving was celebrated with a sumptuous repast transported in special containers to the regiment from Naples, and arrived in such quantities that mess kits were foregone in favor of the greater volume of tin helmets.
After a dull and somewhat uncomfortable two weeks spent in bivouac in a reserve position near Ciorlano, the Combat Team received orders to move forward for an assault on Mt. Sammucro and the adjacent hills beyond Venafro – positions that dominated the gateway to the German stronghold of Cassino.
On the rainy cold evening of December 10, 1943, the regimental CP was established at Venafro, and the 1st and 2nd Battalions closed in on their respective bivouac areas at the base of the high ground overlooking the Volturno Valley and Venafro. Companies G and I of the 3 rd Battalion moved immediately forward to relieve elements of the 3 rd Ranger Battalion who were in position on Hill 950. While advancing to relieve the Rangers, I Company became subjected to enemy small arms fire and in the midst of a German counterattack, managed to take up their assigned positions. The next twelve hours found the Germans counterattacking seven times in force, and although I Company had suffered 46 casualties by noon of the following day, they still held the position.
The following morning the 2nd Battalion completed the difficult climb up Mt. Sammucro (1205) to take up positions formerly occupied by the 143rd Infantry. The remainder of the 3rd Battalion joined G and I Companies and continued to repel repeated enemy counterattacks. 307th Airborne Engineers laid a mine field in the draw between Hills 1205 and 950. Enemy artillery increased in intensity to a degree unprecedented in the Italian campaign – it became quite evident that the Germans were determined to regain these heights at all costs.
The 1st Battalion, supposedly in reserve, was used for litter-bearing details, and to carry food, water, and ammunition up the rocky, heavily shelled trails to the troops clinging stubbornly to positions on the heights.
During the succeeding several days the 2nd Battalion launched an attack on the enemy-held Hill 687 but was repulsed and withdrew to a defensive position in front of Hill 1205. The 1st Battalion moved out of reserve and, with the exception of B Company which occupied Hill 710, moved up to Hill 1205 in support of the 2nd Battalion’s attack. The 3rd Battalion sent out patrols toward the enemy lines, and although meeting little resistance, discovered extensive mine fields and defensive positions that had recently been vacated.
By this time the 376th Parachute Field Artillery Battalion was well emplaced and giving direct support to the 504 Combat Team that was of exceptional accuracy and efficiency. The wire section established and maintained communications with the various units of the CT – an endless and fatiguing job frequently necessitating work under artillery fire, which usually knocked out the wire as fast as it could be replaced.
By December 20, the 504 CT was holding Hills 1205, 950, 954, 710, and 687, with patrols operating on Hills 877 and 610. The fighting of this operation consisted of the assaulting of one hill after another. It was an uphill fight all the way characterized by rock and tree bare, 45-degree slopes, and unusually stubborn resistance by the enemy. Supply and evacuation of the wounded was a matter of back-breaking work. The medic’s task, at best a difficult one, was increased ten-fold on the high, craggy, windswept, and shelterless hilltops. Medical supplies were short when they were needed most and there was no quick way of obtaining more. Casualties had to be carried on stretchers down to the road-a painful six-hour journey. Mule trains were able to carry supplies to a certain point, after which it became necessary because of the increased angle of ascent, for all supplies and ammunition to be transported up to the summits by carrying parties of men. This work was carried out over heavily shelled trails, with supplies always reaching the units engaged just in time.
During the 19 days that the 504 was in action near Venafro they suffered a total of 54 dead, 226 wounded, and 2 men missing in action. These figures are exclusive of the 376 FA Battalion and Company C, 307 Engineers, each of whom suffered dead and wounded. Most of the casualties were the result of enemy artillery fire, which was, as has been mentioned, intense.
However high the number of these casualties may seem, compared to those of the enemy they must be considered light. Only the very roughest of estimates can be made of the enemy casualties, however information revealed by prisoners (51 were taken) indicated German dead and wounded to be at least five times greater than those suffered by the 504. On December 27, the regiment was relieved of duty in the Venafro sector and was moved to new bivouac areas in the vicinity of Pignatoro.
Small, much-bombed Pignatoro, located in the heart of the lower Volturno Valley in the shadow of Hill 620, which five months before had been designated as the objective for the 504 on their much-briefed Capua mission, had now become a scene of rest for men of the regiment. A belated Christmas was celebrated, New Year’s Day dinner eaten under the hungry gaze of the town’s population, and finally the long-awaited Christmas packages were received and opened. The regiment was paid and for the next several days the Italian courtyards of Pignatoro echoed with the almost forgotten sound of rippling dice, and the strident coaxing of “Whup, seven – do it!”
Shower baths were made available, movies were shown nightly in a tiny, renovated picture house, orange trees groaned under the weight of fresh fruit (all off limits), and “tough guy” Humphrey Bogart, wife, and company put on a few skits for the regiment from the back of a six-by-six parked in a nearby soccer field.
Still, these were simple pleasures and the paratroopers longed for Naples’ gaiety and relaxation of another sort, so it was with cheery hearts that the Combat Team moved again on January 4, 1944, to the suburbs of Naples.
“Officially”, Naples was off limits to the 504, but then who were they – the victors of Altavilla, the assaulters of Mt. Sammucro, and the participants of a hundred other engagements – to suddenly become impotent at the flicker of a PBS directive; besides hadn’t they taken the town four months before? Naples was retaken by mass infiltration.
The city had changed; in some ways for the better and in others for the worse. The lights had come on, water ran in the toilets, the opera and the movies were playing to packed houses, the streets were cleared of the wreckage of bombed buildings, stores were well stocked with everything but good 46 “vino”, and the enlisted men’s Red Cross Club was a structure of grandeur that topped anything from the United States to the UK.
Naples had assumed the cosmopolitan and multi-colored atmosphere of Casablanca, Algiers, and Cairo. The streets were iridescent with the uniforms of sailors and soldiers of half a dozen different nationalities. In a manner of speaking, Naples had become the property of the world. There were those who said with a nostalgic sigh, “I liked it better before”, but then such statements are merely human and not necessarily to be taken seriously, for Naples, though it had changed, was still the mother of fun and Marie was still as friendly as ever, even though her ideas had changed, too.
However, all was not play. There was training, inspections, re-equipping, and it soon became evident that the rumors of, “We’re going home”, or “England is next”, were doomed to go the way of all rumors; another mission was forthcoming-this time a parachute mission.
Sand tables were constructed, recognition crews sent out to nearby units, and finally came the briefing – on January 20, the 504 was ready to take off. The operation was called “Shingle” and involved a vertical envelopment of the enemy in a sector behind the coastal town of Anzio, 28 miles South of Rome. The S-2’s estimate of the enemy’s capabilities did not appear encouraging, to say nothing of the fact that in spite of all efforts to maintain secrecy of the impending operation, it seemed that every Italian Joe in Naples and vicinity had at least a vague idea of what was going on. Consequently, there was a certain amount of “sweating” on the part of the paratroopers, for most felt certain that the Germans, aware of the plans, would be waiting on the DZ with upturned bayonets – a situation, that to say the least, would have been embarrassing. However, subsequent events on the beachhead proved that their fears were unfounded, for that particular sector of the Italian coast was lightly defended and the jump would probably have gone off without a hitch.
Nevertheless, on the morning of January 20, orders were received from the Fifth Army to the effect that the 504 would not jump in the “Shingle” operation but would go in on the beach assault in LCIs. Movement orders and boat loading lists were issued to all elements of the Combat Team and the following morning found the 504 loading on boats at the tiny fishing port of Pozzuoli, north of Naples.
That afternoon the regiment’s small convoy of LCIs swung out from the port to become part of the huge northbound invasion fleet that stretched in both directions as far as the eye could see. The afternoon was quiet and as the sun submerged into the sea, men became impressed with the magnitude of the operation – an endless string of ships moving on their predesignated course like the hand of fate across the sea.
Dawn of the 22nd found the 504 standing out from the beach upon which they were to later debark. There was an LST sinking off the port bow of the lead 504 craft, but aside from this there seemed to be amazingly little evidence of the enemy that had been expected – everything seemed quiet: too quiet.
Reports had been received that five waves had been landed when through the loudspeaker of a neighboring boat, Col. Tucker was ordered to land the Combat Team on Red Beach. Immediately the 13 LCIs that contained the members of the regiment commenced to move toward the shore. There was no confusion; everything was proceeding with the regularity and order of clockwork. The lead boats were grinding into the sand. Already the ramps had slammed down into the water and men were splashing their way toward the shore. It was perfect. The operation couldn’t have gone more smoothly. The only thing that was lacking to make this a perfect movie operation was the enemy.
At that precise moment the tense stillness was shattered by a whining roar that left no doubt in anyone’s mind as to its source. Straight out of the sun the enemy planes came – their machine guns blasting. For a few brief seconds the world became one great kaleidoscope of raging sound, then the planes were gone and, in the water, where they had passed over lay several boiling circles where bombs had struck. One LCI, its nose disgorging men, settled in the shallow water. Its after-section was a mass of twisted metal and oily black smoke. Men could be seen hanging from the bits of twisted steel. That had been LCI number 20-G Company’s craft.
The landing craft continued to come, unload their personnel, and back out into the water, while the German dive bombers returned again and again. The paratroopers ran down the ramps and jumped into the surf. Some went into their knees, some to their waists, and some went in over their heads and swam for the shore. And all the while the German planes continued to roar in from the sun to bomb and strafe. The ship borne anti-aircraft units sent up a terrific barrage, but nobody in the 504 was watching for hits-they were too busy getting ashore and seeking cover.
Two days later, the regiment was ordered to the right flank of the beachhead where German elements had forced the withdrawal of Third Division reconnaissance units in the vicinity of bridges number Two and number Five over the Mussolini Canal.
Near bridge number Five, Lt. Col. W. R. Williams, commanding the 1st Battalion, ordered B Company to attack the Germans in that vicinity. After an unsuccessful attempt to take the bridge, a platoon of A Company was committed along with a platoon of tanks. Four hours later, with the aid of tanks and 57mm guns manned by the 376, the enemy was pushed across the canal and bridge number Five was secured.
In the vicinity of bridge number Two, Lt. Col. L. G. Freeman, commanding the 3rd Battalion, committed I Company to clear the sector. The company was ambushed, however, and forced to take up defensive positions. At dawn of the 24th, I Company, now reinforced by a platoon of tanks and naval gunfire from the sea, counter-attacked frontally while G and H Companies brought the enemy under crossfire from the flanks. Two hours later the enemy, after suffering 69 killed, 25 wounded, 33 prisoners, two halftracks knocked out and one captured, was driven back to the other side of the canal. 504 casualties were two men killed, three wounded, and none missing.
Following days found the regiment patrolling actively and consolidating its line along the Mussolini Canal. It was then decided to attack the town of Borgo Piave, an important road center that came to be known as the “spider”, because of the five main roads that joined in the city.
At 1330 on January 25, all three battalions moved out in the attack. The 1st Battalion attacked Sessano, the 3rd Battalion Borgo Sabatino, and the 2nd Battalion made the main drive for Borgo Piave. The 3rd Battalion attained its objective and pushed strong combat patrols to the North and East supported by naval gunfire. The 1st Battalion encountered stiff opposition and heavy enemy artillery fire, nevertheless, a small group of C Company men did reach the objective – Sessano. The 2nd Battalion, supported by a rolling barrage, reached Borgo Piave and D Company pushed 200 yards East of the town. However, the enemy counter-attacked with an armored force of about five tanks and eight flak wagons and isolated D Company from the remainder of the battalion. Upon order from the Third Division, the 2nd Battalion withdrew to the Mussolini Canal leaving behind a strong combat outpost and several tank-hunting teams. D Company, after suffering heavy losses, subsequently infiltrated through the enemy’s encirclement and regained their own lines.
As a result of these operations, the regiment had gained outpost positions on the other side of the canal, but generally speaking, had not advanced any appreciable distance-the MLR still remaining along the Mussolini Canal.
After a week of holding and attacking along a front extending from bridge number Five south to the sea, the 504 was relieved in this sector by the 179th Infantry. The 3rd Battalion was attached to the First Armored Division and sent to the Northern (British) flank of the beachhead, while the remainder of the Combat Team was sent North of bridge number Five to participate in an attack scheduled to take place in the Third Division sector.
The 3rd Battalion, after several days in reserve with the First Armored Division, was committed with the British First (Guards) Division in the Carreceto sector. German artillery fire in this area was unusually intense and it was here that the enemy launched his main drive to push the beachhead into the sea. After one of the heaviest artillery barrages ever experienced by 504 men, the Germans began their attack in the early hours of February 5, 1944. On successive days British units were cut off from the 3rd Battalion, which was forced to withdraw to the famous “factory” in Mussolini’s wonder-town of Aprilia. Enemy railroad guns and dive bombers then concentrated their efforts on the 3rd Battalion garrison. The paratroopers suffered severe casualties, and by the time enemy infantry moved in, the companies had been reduced in strength to between 20 and 30 men.
Fierce hand-to-hand fighting ensued, in which the paratroopers by sheer determination and courage, were able to repel repeated German onslaughts. Rather than remain in the exposed positions in which they now found themselves, they withdrew to a railroad underpass several hundred yards behind the “factory” and established defensive positions. H Company was ordered to attack and attempt the rescue of a British general who had been captured. After bloody fighting, they recaptured the general, only to find themselves cut off from friendly forces. I Company was then ordered to attack and make contact with H Company. The 16 men remaining in the company carried out this mission successfully and a semblance of order was restored to this sector – the backbone of the German attack had been broken. It was for this outstanding performance in the period 8-12 February, that the 3rd Battalion was given one of the first Presidential Citations in the European Theater of Operations.
The remainder of the Combat Team, meanwhile, had been engaged in heavy fighting in the Third Division sector. On January 30, the 1st and 2nd Battalions jumped off in an attack that was to take them to the Cisterna River. The 1st Battalion led the way and encountered only light resistance as they passed through the German outpost line. Soon after, however, as they neared their first bridge objective over the Mussolini Canal, they were engaged by strong enemy forces. The reserve company was committed, and the enemy driven back across the stream, first blowing the bridge behind him and thus saving the paratroopers the trouble.
While the 1st Battalion was consolidating its gains, the 2nd Battalion advanced along the left flank of the 1st Battalion and under similar circumstances, were engaged by the enemy in the vicinity of a bridge farther upstream. Here again, the enemy was forced to retreat across the canal after blowing the bridge behind them. The 2nd Battalion continued the attack to the North on the heels of the retreating Germans, who proceeded to blow another bridge – this time it was the bridge crossing the Cisterna River. The loss of this bridge denied the paratroopers any further support from friendly tanks, a factor which caused the 2nd Battalion to halt its advance and dig in on the far side of the river.
Much enemy material in the form of halftracks, 75mm howitzers, small arms, and vehicles was either captured or destroyed in this attack. Eighty prisoners were taken with very heavy casualties inflicted upon the enemy. 504 losses were comparatively light.
For the remainder of their eight-week stay on the Anzio beachhead, 504 men found themselves confronted with a defensive situation, rather than offensive for which they had been trained. With the exception of the first week of fighting on the beachhead, no appreciable advance was made by our forces. It was strictly trench-type warfare characteristic of the First World War. For the first time, 504 men were digging dugouts and living in them for weeks at a time; barbed wire entanglements and mine fields in unusual depth covered all areas where the enemy might conceivably tread; alternate positions were prepared for any eventuality, and there were times when such an eventuality did not seem too remote. All in all, this was not the type of combat for which the 504 was psychologically suited. In fact, it was absolutely contrary to the way that paratroopers had always been taught to fight, and so it was with something more than the usual enthusiasm that the men of the 504 received the order to embark from Anzio on March 23, for the trip to Naples.
As the LSTs loaded with paratroopers got under way, the Germans were dropping shells into the harbor, as though in some final frantic gesture to keep the 504 from leaving, like a murderer’s last stab at his executioner. This had been a costly campaign for the 504 – but ten times as costly for the enemy. During the eight-week period, 120 paratroopers were killed, 410 wounded, and 60 missing in action. Many lessons had been learned at Anzio, and many men had been lost. It was a good place to bid farewell.
After one uneventful night on the water, the small convoy turned in toward the coast and before long the port of Pozzuoli, from which the regiment had sailed on the mission to Anzio, hove into sight. The big LSTs nudged their noses up to the beach, dropped their ramps, and the already entrucked troops rolled out onto land again.
Bagnoli, the bivouac area, was but fifteen minutes from the heart of Naples by way of the local railway system and was the site of the projected Italian World’s Fair. Many fine buildings, statues, and other architectural features typical of this type of exhibition were in evidence. The 504 was quartered in the modern, and only recently constructed Italian University for the education of Ethiopian students. The buildings of the university were spacious and an excellent example of modern Italian designing.
Once firmly ensconced in their quarters at the university, the regiment fell into a daily routine which for the most part, consisted of very light training, turning in equipment, and taking off for Naples at every opportunity. General Clark reviewed the regiment at a ceremony held in honor of the 3rd Battalion and presented Col. Freeman, the battalion commander, with a Presidential Unit Citation for the battalion’s outstanding performance at Carroceto.
It had been generally assumed that the 504 would leave Italy and sail to England to rejoin the 82nd Airborne Division; however, up until the last moment the hopeful rumor that the regiment was on the way back to the States could still be heard. On April 10, 1944, the Combat Team moved by train into Naples where they alighted at Garibaldi Station, marched down the Via Umberto to the waterfront, and boarded the Capetown Castle – a large British ship of streamlined appearance.
The following morning 504 men awoke to feel the throb of the ship’s engines beneath them and with the knowledge that Italy, now obscured by a mist that hung against the horizon, its battles, its moments of sorrow and happiness, had become another chapter in the history of courage of the 504th Parachute Infantry.