Anzio: Advance, retreat, repeat

My Mother and Audie Murphy Ch. 14

Fear is moving up with us. Fear is right there beside you.

Audie Murphy’s autobiography, To Hell and Back, was ghost written by his friend David McClure, a Hollywood script writer and assistant to the columnist Hedda Hopper. McClure served in the Army Signal Corps, so was already familiar with the hell of war. Much of the book is centered on the dogface soldiers in Murphy’s unit of the Third Division. Their banter and dialog endear the reader to these infantrymen. But McClure also has a knack for describing battle scenes. Here are excerpts from the chapter on Anzio.

“Anzio Annie” was a massive World War II German rail gun, used to bombard US and British forces during the 1944 Anzio landings. It was one of the largest land-based cannons ever built. It fired shells that weighed 550 pounds. Image: NARA

“Light trembles in the east. To our left, an artillery dual is growing fiercer. We hear the crack and thunder of our own guns; the whine and crash of incoming German shells. (A soldier) stands in his chest deep foxhole and leans with his elbows on the bank. He studies the eastern horizon and shakes his head in mock ecstasy. “Gee!” says he, “another beautiful day.”

“That afternoon we attack….

“Fear is moving up with us. It always does. In the heat of battle it may go away. Sometimes it vanishes in a blind, red range that comes when you see a friend fall. Then again, you get so tired that you become indifferent. But when you are moving into combat, why try fooling yourself. Fear is right there beside you….

“I am well acquainted with fear. It strikes first in the stomach, coming like the disemboweling hand that is thrust into the carcass of a chicken. I feel now as though I see fingers have reached into my mid-parts and twisted the intestines into knots….

Hidden in a railway tunnel, the Anzio Annie guns started firing at the Anzio beachhead in February and were not discovered until May. Image from Flo’s album

“Speech ceases. Our artillery fire is dying off. We see the fresh sod thrown up by the shells, and know that we are near the enemy lines. Nervously, the men give a final check to their gear and weapons. We pause while the crouching scouts move ahead.

“This is the worst moment. Just ahead the enemy waits silently. It will be far better when the guns open up. The nerves will relax; the heart, stop its thumping. The brain will turn to animal cunning. The job lies directly before us: destroy and survive.

“The scouts wave us forward, motioning us to keep close to the ground.

“It happens with the suddenness of lightning. From hidden positions two flakwagon guns churn. One of the scouts is caught squarely in the chest; and the upper part of his body is turned into a shower of seared, torn flesh.

Annie’s threat was physical, but also psychological. The troops lived in constant fear of the next shell whose passage was compared to a freight train passing overhead. It could blast a whole big enough to swallow a jeep. Image from Flo’s album

“They are using 20 mm stuff. These are deadly small shells that explode upon contact. According to the international rules of warfare, they are supposed to be employed against planes and armor, never directly against men. But somebody is always forgetting the rulebook.

“As if the fire were a prearranged signal for action, all hell erupts. From a dozen points come bursts of automatic fire. Branches and leaves clipped from the trees rain amid the whizzing steel.

“Two men caught in the open squirm frantically for the doubtful cover of a slight ridge. Bullets kick all about them. They twist in every direction, but the spurting lead follows. The gunner finally gets his range. The bodies writhe like stricken worms. The gun fires again. The bodies relax and are still….

“The shriek of a huge incoming shell sounds. I drop to the bottom of the gutter and drive my head into the bank. The explosion is tremendous. It seems to lift me bodily into the air. For a second I lose consciousness. Then I find myself frantically crawling up the ditch. My brain whirls; my ears ring with the noise of a hundred bells. Greasy black smoke drifts over the earth; and the stench of burnt powder fills my nostrils….

“I squirm up to him. A glance tells me he is dead. His head is twisted unnaturally; thin trickles of blood come from the mouth and nose. His brown eyes stare glazedly. I place my ear to his chest. The heart is still. No piece of metal touched him. The concussion alone was sufficient. I remove the helmet and straighten his head. His eyes are as empty as an unused grave….

“I attach a strip of white bandage to his bayonet, which I drive into the bank above. The marker will help the burial squad to find the corpse at night….

“Their artillery fire is pulled up from the rear. And once more, the earth is a seething hell of flame and whining metal; of screaming, cursing men. The ground erupts in thunderous explosions; and in the ghastly rain of debris are the limbs and flesh of men….

“There is a little sleep that night. The artillery thunders for hours; our foxholes are wet and cold. Cheerless rumors have spread. Our men have been beaten back over the entire front. The day has but served to deplete our forces. We are to attack again tomorrow.

“Tired and irritated beyond measure, we awake in a savage mood. The madness of battle grows within us. So does our indifference to life and death. We clean our weapons and wait for the dreaded order. By noon it comes. Attack.

“Like robots, driven by coiled springs, we again move forward. This time the German artillery meets us. We spread out in the open fields and plunge directly into the fire…. The holes that they blast offer cover. We dive into them, sometimes before the smoke has cleared, get our breath, and bearings, flounder out and move on….

There were two of these guns. Once they were captured, soldiers climbed on them “like game hunters who had bagged two rogue elephants.” Image from Flo’s album.

“The medics are bloody as butchers. Unarmed, and with plainly marked helmets, they are supposed to be spared by the Germans. But the projectiles have no eyes. And I see one medic fall dead on a man whose wounds he was dressing. A scrap of metal severed his backbone….

“Advance, retreat, advance, retreat. This goes on for three days and at the end not a yard of ground has been gained.”

That was the story of Anzio. The Allies made the first amphibious landing on the beachhead on January 22, 1944 and the battle didn’t officially end until the liberation of Rome June 4, 1944.

The 3rd Infantry Division suffered over 900 casualties in one day of combat at Anzio. This was the highest number of casualties suffered by any US division in a single day during the war. The Allies sustained 40,000 casualties at Anzio.

Flo captioned this picture “Kraut graves.” The Nazis sustained 43,000 casualties at Anzio.

Ch. 15: https://tradeswomn.medium.com/rome-is-liberated-by-allies-4868ab176a13