"Comrades in war, comrades forever"
The “Lupo” Battalion of the Xth MAS Flotilla on the Gothic Line, 1944-1945
Among the
various fighting units of the Armed Forces of the Repubblica Sociale Italiana
to be used effectively at the front against the Allies,
a unit that distinguished itself for military efficiency and courage was
certainly the “Lupo” Battalion of the Xth MAS.
One of the first Marine Infantry Bns of the Xth MAS to be formed, the Lupo Bn was
formed in January 1944 and organized on three Rifle Companies, a Heavy Weapons
Company, and a HQ Company. Its commander was Captain Corrado De Martino, a
decorated submarine commander, assisted by Lieutenant Dante Stripoli, a Black
Shirt Bn veteran. After a training period with the Division "Hermann
Goering", during which the Marò (Marines) learned the combat tactics of
the German Infantry (even if the initially delivered weapons turned out to be
the usual old Royal Italian Army ordnance - rifles and moschetto '91s, the
unreliable Breda 30 light machine guns...), the “Lupo” was sent to Piedmont
with garrison and counterinsurgency duties, taking part in the recapture of the
town of Alba, seized by the partisans. The Bn was also resupplied in this
period with the excellent MAB 38A SMGs, the accurate Breda 37 heavy machine
guns, and numerous “war booty” Sten SMGs, recovered from Allied airdrops to the
partisans.
Eventually, at the end of 1944 came the most desired order: the departure
to the “Fronte Sud” (“Southern Front”), on the Gothic Line, against the Allies.
On 4 December, the “Lupo” went from Milan to the Apennines, digging in on the
slopes of the Reno River Valley, only to be sent in the plain along the river
Senio, between Fusignano and Alfonsine.
The Bn was organized at the time on
three Rifle Coys, a Mortars Coy (four Model 35 81 mm mortars), a AA Coy (with
nine Breda 20 mm AA Guns), plus the HQ Coy, with a force of 25 officers, 65
NCOs, 600 Marò and 10 Women Auxiliary of the “Servizio Ausiliario Femminile
della Xa MAS”
So began two long months of trench warfare,
where the fortified positions along the high banks of the river, subject to
incessant Allied shelling, strafing and bombings, and attacks by Allied combat
patrols and TDs and tank direct fire, were fiercely defended by the “Lupo” Bn
Marò and the adjacent German units, including the 16. SS-Panzergrenadier-Division Reichsführer-SS. The cooperation among the very young
Marò and the elements of this elite unit, after the first initial conflicts and
misunderstandings, was excellent, and if the Marò were impressed by the
training and the military equipment of the Germans, the Reichsführer’s
Waffen-SS learned to admire the courage displayed by the Marò in their
continuous no man's land patrols, repeated almost every night, against the
Canadian and British advanced positions in front of the river banks, usually
placed in houses transformed into true fortresses bristling with Bren and other
automatic weapons and surrounded by mines and booby traps, and during the day
resting points for snipers. Here are some “oral history” examples of these
actions.
A Sherman blows up
Marò Luigi Sitia, Lupo Bn,
January 1945
Our 3rd Company is located on the bank for
several days: it is just after midnight – it’s New Year's Eve - and we are
preparing for the first sortie. We will work together with a German team.
In a dilapidated house set against the banks of
the Senio we expect the time of attack, trying to doze, while the Krauts are
delousing themselves with enthusiasm. They are have been in the front line for
months and months, and their faces are haggard: war has dug deep furrows. Suddenly,
the door opens and three of them burst in, each bringing four tins of steaming
spiced wine. "Hier,
Kamaraden! Hier zu trinken! Be big party diese Nacht ".
Poor soldiers. In their eyes shines a fierce
longing of their homes. "Heute party, party... Wir trinken! "
And all together we drink, then a Teutonic
choir rises a slow, soft, sad.
"Silent Night, Holy Night ... '
"Stand up! Check your weapons! "
Now is the Lieutenant with a German officer,
the order takes the chill in my bones. We almost did not realize where we are
and what we are doing. The Germans have stopped deloused and prepare to go.
Fifteen minutes later we lined up in the yard.
Unfazed, the yellow disc of a huge moon is reflected on our helmets. Bad night
to go on patrol. Then our Lieutenant says:
"The action is simple. A group of houses
here in front is occupied by the Canadians. We have to dislodge them. Attention
to where you lay your feet: the ground is almost completely mined. Put them
exactly where the fellow in front has stepped and do not lose contact. We will
then open to the right and the Germans left. In bocca al lupo! (Into the mouth of the Wolf!)"
We pace slowly to the bank, then we are over
it: we are in no man's land. Cautious and wary as beasts of prey, we creep
along the rows of plants. Every now and then a stop, the two officers shall
consult. There in front of us a group of ruins where "they" are
waiting for us. The march resumes. I am the last in line behind the Italians
and with me is a huge German sergeant. Every once in a while we crouched behind
a tree waiting for the order to continue, I try to talk, but he grunts and
motion me to be silent. Then, in one breath hisses:
"Shut up! Inglesi ears are near! "
Finally the order came as a blow, battle
formation! We expand like a fan, Italians and Germans on the right and left.
The ruins of the houses rise to no more than fifty yards, and we crawl on the
ground, completely without cover.
I'm afraid, and I expect the first burst from
moment to moment... Here, a detonation between the houses and tracers shave our
heads. Now comes the rest, I think, as a new order is breathed:
"Ready hand grenades! Ready to shoot!
"
But there is no more firing.
We continue to move forward on our elbows ...
thirty feet, twenty, fifteen ... now we clearly distinguish every detail of the
crumbling walls. Two shadows now raise from the ground, they are the German
lieutenant and my sergeant: like wolves disappear in a few leaps in the rubble
while my heart is leaping. We remain nailed to the ground, mouth dry and the
hands contracted nervously on the weapon.
The shadows reappears. Now we begins to
understand: the Canadian garrison slipped away, perhaps he had orders not to
look for trouble, or may have feared an attack in force. On the table still
smoke the butts of two Morris cigarettes, clothing and blankets piled up
against the wall.
We reassembly and we are taking a breather when
a gloomy drone strikes, a German rushes and began talking excitedly with his
officer. Alarm! Here come the tanks!
Quickly, we emerge from the house and we take
position on the destroyed village’s edge.
I remember with fear the war documentaries and
scary scenes of the advancing Panzers grinding everything: trees, walls, human
bodies. On the white moonlit night two enormous steel pachyderms moves
cautiously ... behind, of course, there are the infantry. The two behemoths
stop at fifty yards: we do not see anyone behind them, at least for the moment.
Here, one of the “wagons” resume noisily its
advance and is right upon us. At a distance of twenty meters follows the other.
Weapons in hand, crouched among the rocks and
rubble we stand fast: two shadows glide along the rows of bushes to meet the
advancing monsters. The first tank has stopped again and we see clearly the
details, its cannon is moving...
And behold, a blue flame streaks from the earth
and a deafening roar explodes and echoes, sudden clouds of white sparks fly
from the tank; a few seconds of maximum tension and the whole tank disappears
in smoke and flame, a piercing roar split the air. The young Marò Alberto Bellagamba’s
Panzerfaust has hit the mark!
The other Sherman retreats quickly, randomly
shelling the ruins behind where we are hiding. At the same time the entire
Canadian line wake up, shooting at us with all guns. Mortar fire rains the
first phosphorous shells. We retreat back to our position.
What satisfaction when we feel again under our
boots the ground of the yard where we started! While around us automatic
weapons fires off the last rounds, we - Italians and Germans, officers and men
- all embrace Alberto the hero of the day, or night.
Destroy the outpost
Lieutenant Spartaco Zeloni, Lupo Bn, January
1945
We receive the order to remove the Canadians
outposts. We'll take care of a house, the Germans the other, at the same time.
The weather conditions have changed, the snow
melts quickly. The targets will be hit with a short artillery preparation.
The night is restless, and we are barely able
to complete the preparations for the attack in the light of the candles blown
off frequently by mortars detonations shockwaves. We decide to start early and
transit across the bridge. Twenty shadows follow me and with pleasure I feel in
the air the first whistles of the mortars shells directly on the target.
With Sgt. Pezzella’s squad covering us, and
taking advantage of the barrage, I bring my men in a hurry to forty meters from
the objective, behind the house we destroyed last time.
Two shells shatter the roof of the Canadian’s
house and others burst all in close proximity. All right. With a nod, I invite
the two German pioneers to be ready with the Tellerminen. One of them has a
moment of hesitation, he seems to want to give up. The black eye of my SMG to
his belly, and he understand that it’s not the time for jokes. The other
suggests that the mines weighs too much, and so two of our men offer to help.
Two minutes to the end of the mortars preparation. The four are ready, each
holds its Tellermine by the handle. Less than a minute. 6.45 hours on the dot:
I perceive the mortars fire lifting. Go! The pioneers quickly place the mines.
We remain ready for the second part of the program. Two long minutes of waiting.
The four return plunging into the group,
panting. A loud explosion shakes the earth. We are hit by a shockwave, bricks
and tiles fly through the air and falls by the hundreds. The echo of the
explosion lingers on, which is repeated in the distance, another roar. The
other outpost is blew up. We go out on the road. A big gray cloud, stinking
like hell, wraps what has been for a month the nest of the fearful snipers. We
take possession of the place, the remains of houses appears in the light of
dawn. Erasmi picks up a piece of blackened wood and on the ruins of a wall
writes in Latin HIC MANEBIMUS OPTIME (“We will stay very well here”).
We fan out and accurately mop up the houses,
and we make contact with Sgt. Pezzella‘s squad. Destroyed Shermans and Bren Carriers lies near
torn animal carcasses in decomposition, and everywhere bricks and tiles are scattered
in an apocalyptic chaos.
In the few rooms still habitable, the Canadians
have left a bit of everything. We loot food and equipments, and smoke some Lucky
Strikes. The boys collect the weapons: Bren, rifles, Thompsons. These just seem
to come out of some gangster’s hands, heavy, with double grips. We pick up from
the floor a photo of the Canadians that stood there: it portrays a group of
young men, all with a mess tin in hand, smiling. "All right, Tommy."
I put the photo in my wallet as a souvenir [see photo].
In the stables there comes another horrible
sight. Some of the cows died of hunger, other killed by artillery shells,
others are still alive, but remain crouched and do not have the strength to
pull themselves up: all show the skeleton through the loose skin, and looks at
us with big watery eyes, mooing desperately. We throw them some hay. Poor
animals, they can’t defend themselves and suffer the most from
the consequences of war, them guiltless of the men’s quarrels.
The fruitful partnership between the “Lupo” and
the Reichsführer-SS ceased when this department was transferred in February:
the SS-Division Commander Otto Baum bestowed six Iron Crosses to the “Lupo”
Marines as an acknowledgment of their bravery. The “Lupo” was then relieved and
sent to Marostica for reorganization, before being hurriedly sent to the Po
River after the collapse of the front in April 1945.
Then, after retreating to
Padua with other units of the Xth MAS (now a full Division), surrendered with
the honor of arms to the Allied (B Squadron, 20th NZ Armoured Rgt.) in this
city the April 29, 1945.
The "Lupo" Bn Marò on the Senio Banks...
... and the Commonwealth units on the Senio River and the drive to Padua.
TRANSLATION: ANDREA LOMBARDI - ITALIA Storica
COPYRIGHT: ANDREA LOMBARDI - ITALIA Storica
PLEASE QUOTE:
ANDREA LOMBARDI - ITALIA Storica
Web http://associazioneitalia.blogspot.com
Bibliography:
G. Bonvicini, Battaglione Lupo, Genova 2011
G. Bonvicini, Decima Marinai, Decima Comandante!,
Milano 1996
C. Cucut, Le Forze Armate della RSI – Forze di terra,
Trento 2005
B. Zeloni, Lupi sulla Linea Gotica, Genova 2012
