Editor's Research: Invasion of Italy (15) - Montreal Star (Sept. 25, 27, '43)

Starring Scott Young and Sholto Watt

 Photo Credit - The majority of news articles, photos, cartoons and ads are

from The Montreal Star microfilm at University of Western Ontario

(UWO), London, Ontario 

One headline above (left) tells us that the "War (is) Lost For Huns" while another headline above (right) tells us the "Allies Meet Toughest Terrain Yet." Russia's advances against the Germans would be accompanied by some cheering, while Allied forces in Italy would be heard grinding their teeth at slow, oft-times discouraging progress.

As would be expected, The Montreal Star will report good and not-so-good reports from different corners of the world, and we will continue to learn how extensive, expensive and weighty was World War II.

That being said, I am happy to report that two articles are included in this offering by Canadian war correspondent Scott Young, father of well-known singer-songwriter Neil Young. And with a note of relief I can say - again, quite happily - I have found a lengthy and informative article by The Star's war correspondent, Sholto Watt, and will present it below (about a dozen items down).

Watt's previous report came from Sicily, several weeks after Canadians in Combined Operations had left Sicily to go to Malta for rest, recuperation and the job of repairing their landing crafts. The report that follows comes from Malta, also several weeks after the Canadians and their landing craft left Malta to start the business of running troops and war materiel from Sicily to Reggio di Calabria (i.e., to the toe of Italy) in their flotilla of LCMs (landing craft, mechanised).

Will Mr. Watt make his way to Italy soon and hitch a ride with those Canadians? I am hoping he will. Until I find out one way or the other I will continue to present news from the front, along with other details re the times.

Below we see a grainy photograph depicting hospital care for 'wounded commandos', including Canadian Walter Pace from Medicine Hat, Alta.

Note to self: Google Canadians in Commando units

Scott Young travelled to Sicily in the summer of 1943 and wrote several articles about events related to Operation Husky, the invasion of Sicily. Some can be found on this blog, and are from The Winnipeg Tribune. The following are striking in their difference re subject matter and origin:

The next article by Mr. Young was found on the same editorial page. Two for the price of one, I say:

General Montgomery, or Monty, could always be counted on to express an opinion:

While Monty's 8th Army made gains - slowly, oft-times at significant cost in human lives - so to did the Russians on the Eastern Front, part of which bordered the Dnieper River:

When I saw that 'Foggia Airfields' were mentioned in the September 27 headlines, I took note. Foggia was under observation by RAF and RCAF pilots in their Spitfires, and was mentioned in the flight log of one Canadian pilot from Chatham, Ontario, a city one-hour's drive from my front door. Information about the pilot, FO John Vasicek, is mentioned in an earlier entry.

Canadian war correspondent Ross Munro surely travelled to the toe of Italy's boot with the Canadians manning their own flotilla of landing crafts (80th Flotilla). He writes about "the 400-mile advance Canadian troops made from the Reggio beaches". He may have embarked from an area just north of Messina, Sicily, where Canadians in Combined Ops bunked down in war-worn and damaged houses ( one had no roof says my father) not far from their LCMs. If Mr. Munro disembarked on the opposite side of the Strait of Messina where supplies were being dropped off in Reggio, a Canadian sailor likely dropped the ramp for him. (I'd love to see his notes or journals!)

While Ross Munro connected with Canadian readers about the advance of Canadian troops, he and the army were supplied by a well-organized transport system. A week or so after the invasion of Italy (Sept. 3 in Reggio; Operation Baytown), the ferrying of all war materiel would have become a bit more routine for the men of the barges, life would have become a bit more normalized.

In memoirs my father writes about that time:

THE INVASION OF ITALY

It was no different touching down on the Italian beach at Reggio Calabria at around midnight, September 3, 1943 than on previous invasions. Naturally we felt our way slowly to our landing place. Everything was strangely quiet and we Canadian sailors were quite tense, expecting to be fired upon, but we touched down safely, discharged our cargo and left as orderly and quietly as possible.

In the morning light on our second trip to Italy across seven miles of the Messina Straits we saw how the Allied artillery barrage across the straits had levelled every conceivable thing; not a thing moved, the devastation was unbelievable and from day one we had no problems; it was easy come, easy go from Sicily to Italy.

[Editors note: Above is the first photo I have found that is definitely linked to Operation Baytown. I'm ready to bet that my father is in there somewhere. Below are photos of the caption linked to the scene re busy LCMs landing at Reggio.]

Can someone help with a translation?? "Operation Baytown -

Allied troop barges (landing craft) at Reggio Calabria?"

We operated our landing craft under these conditions with skeleton crews and we enjoyed time off. Some of us went to Italy, hitched rides on army trucks, went as far as we were allowed to go and had a good look at some of Italy. We lived on the edge (e.g., of an escarpment), because not far from the shoulder of the asphalt road were high cliffs and we could look down on the Adriatic Sea*, its beautiful beaches and menacing rocks.

I remember one of the many refugees of war, a barefoot lady dressed in a black sleeveless dress, carrying a huge black trunk on her head. I suppose it contained all her earthly belongings or it was very dear to her, and she walked along the coastal road back toward Reggio, to what, I’ll never know. I couldn’t have carried that load.

Our living quarters was a huge Sicilian home and some nights I slept on my hammock on a beautifully patterned marble floor. However, since that was a hard bunk I sometimes slung my hammock, covered with mosquito netting, between two orange trees in the immense yard.

Canned food was quite plentiful now and several young Sicilian boys, quite under-nourished, came begging for handouts, especially chocolota, as they called our chocolate bars.

I took a boy about 11 years old under my wing when off duty. In one corner of the yard was a low, square, cement-walled affair complete with a cement floor, tap and drain hole. It was here I introduced “Peepo” to Ivory soap, Colgate toothpaste and hair tonic for his short, shiny, ringletted black hair. My name was “Do-go” which I am still called today at navy reunions, and this boy really shone when I had finished his toilet. Peepo wasn’t too keen on soap and water and it certainly was obvious, but not for long.

I tried to learn some of his language, and he mine (the Canadian Marina). Although we were from countries thousands of miles apart, the war had brought us together and we got along famously. He and I also wandered about Messina. I went with Peepo to meet his Mamma. I took some canned food, chocolota and compost tea, a complete tea in a can exactly like a sardine can, with a key attached as well. Although the lad’s mother was forty-ish, she appeared older. Over a cup of tea, and with difficulty, Mrs. Guiseppe said she would do some laundry for me, and mending.

*Editor's note: I would be surprised if my father saw the Adriatic Sea while working aboard landing crafts between Sicily and Reggio. However, he would have heard about it.

"Dad, Well Done", Page 116

Now, a house on a cliff top in September - even with no roof - was certainly a step up from his accommodations in July, i.e., a limestone cave in Sicily known as The Savoy.

Below is a very thorough description of the "home of a quarter-million people, Malta" that survived WW2 by a thread. Mr. Watt, correspondent for The Montreal Star, is the key reason for my current research, and I am hoping to soon find more articles that focus on his time in Italy, especially how he got there. E.g., Did he go by Canadian landing craft? And if so, did he mention a few names of the sailors on board?

The following photo is quite grainy but upon close inspection one can see troops or sailors standing on the open ramp of the Landing Ship, Tank, aka LST. These are a variation on the theme of landing craft and are likely more efficient than earlier LCTs (landing craft, tank) that had a flat bottom from stem to stern I believe.

From E-Boats in the English Channel to Canadian jam ("Much More Needed"), The Star keeps us well informed:

More will follow from Italy in the near future.

Please link to Editor's Research: Invasion of Italy (14) - Montreal Star (Sept. 23-24, '43)

Unattributed Photos GH

Passages: 'HERE IS YOUR WAR' (3) by Ernie Pyle

War has its own peculiar sounds

Drawing by Carol Johnson, from the book

"Here Is Your War", Page 184

Ernie Pyle wrote a Pulitzer-prize winning book (1944) about the life of American G.I.s during the invasion of North Africa and Sicily, locations where Canadians in Combined Ops toiled aboard landing crafts at significant war fronts. In "Here Is Your War" are many informative passages about the sounds of war, about finding an unusual safe haven, making do without, and much more.

In the passage that follows, he mentions that veterans of war may never have been able to leave the war behind them, that certain sounds had the power to paralyze.

A Mere Rustling Curtain 

     War has its own peculiar sounds.
They are not really very much different
from sounds in the world of peace.
But they clothe themselves
in an unforgettable fierceness,
just because born in danger and death.
The clank of a starting tank,
the scream of a shell through the air,
the ever-rising whine of fiendishness
as a bomber dives - these sounds
have their counterparts in normal life,
and a person would be hard put to
distinguish them in a blindfold test.
But, once heard in war,
they are never forgotten.

     The memory of them
comes back in a thousand ways -
in the grind of a truck starting in low gear,
in high wind around the eaves,
in somebody merely whistling a tune.
Even the sound of a shoe, dropping to
the floor in a hotel room overhead,
becomes indistinguishable from the
faint boom of a big gun far away.
A mere rustling curtain can paralyze
a man with memories.

Here Is Your War, page 186

German dive bombers were known for their eerie screams as they rocketed overhead towards a target. And "the faint boom of a big gun far away" would, at times, stop listeners in their tracks. Guns were getting bigger too, and firing shells from farther away. Would the shells whistle or scream as they rushed through the air?

A report was made about German rocket guns. More noise overhead?

News clip from The Montreal Star, Sept. 27, 1943

On a quieter note, Ernie was able to find one cozy spot to sleep that he never soon forgot. It was near a Tunisian farmhouse.

On the Ground Under the Wagon

     Nobody told a correspondent where to sleep or

what to do when he was gypsying around the front.

He shifted for himself. So I nosed around and found

a place to sleep. It was under a big French grain wagon

sitting in the barnlot. Some soldiers had found several

strips of corrugated tin roofing and set them around

three sides of the wagon, making walls. 

The wagon bed formed a roof overhead.

They had brought straw from a near-by stack

and put it on the ground under the wagon.

There we threw our bedding rolls.

     It was the coziest place I'd slept in for a week.

It had two magnificent features - the ground was dry,

and the wind was cut off. I was so pleased at finding

such a wonderful place that I could feel

my general spirits go up like an elevator.

When the detachment got orders to move the next day

I felt a genuine regret at leaving this little haven.

And to think after all it was only some pitiful straw

on the hard ground under a wagon.

     As we were bedding down on that straw,

Hal Boyle of the Associated Press*,

who was bunking next to me, said,

"I believe that in wartime physical discomfort

becomes a more dominant thing in life

than danger itself."

     And I believe that's true.
The danger came in spurts; discomfort was perpetual.

Dirt and cold were almost constant.
Outside of food and cigarettes there were none
of the little things that made life normal back home.
There were no chairs, lights, floors, or tables.
There wasn't any place to set anything,
or any store to buy things.
There were no newspapers, milk, beds, sheets,
radiators, beer, ice cream, or hot water.
A man just sort of existed, either
standing up working or lying down sleeping.
There was no pleasant in-between.
The velvet was all gone from living.

Here Is Your War, page 234

When in Sicily , some members of the Canadians in Combined Ops found a cave in which to live near Avola. It was a cattle cave, used by farmers to house their herds during the very hot summer months. It became a haven for a few dozen sailors, a place to eat and sleep with a thick layer of limestone over their heads to protect them from German strafing and bombing.

My father wrote a few paragraphs about the cave, called The Savoy by the Canadian sailors, and by way of 'a tip of the hat' to Ernie Pyle, I'll borrow one of his closing lines above to begin this next passage:

The Velvet was All Gone

     After about a week of being continually harassed

by bombers, ack-ack fire and dog fights in the sky

(we Canadians shot down a wing tank and almost

single-handedly drove the Americans from the skies)

one of our fellows on a short reconnoitre ashore

found an abandoned limestone cave. This cave,

a huge hump in the beach landscape, was to

become our shelter at night for nearly three weeks.

About 60 of us slept there, including another

Norwich boy, the late Buryl McIntyre.

The remaining Canadian boys

slept in holes dug along the beach, covered over

by whatever they could scrape up.

     The cave itself had been used at some time

to house cattle to protect them from us.

It was large enough to sleep many more.

The roof was 70 or 80 feet thick and supported

by huge limestone pillars inside. 

     We soon obtained a barrage balloon

(the same way I got the rum)** 

which we anchored on top of the cave.

Unless a bomb dropped in front of the door,

we were as safe as a church. There wasn’t a bomb

as yet that could pierce that roof.

The limestone underfoot was almost like

wet cement, but we happily trudged through this,

put our hammocks down doubled up,

laid our mattresses on them, curled up

in our blankets clothes and all, and slept like logs.

We even recessed navy lamps into the walls.

It was cool, damp and safe and we shared our good fortune

with several little green lizards who had cool feet.

     Early each morning we paraded out

and slung our sleeping gear over bushes

or on the lower limbs of olive trees

and they would be quite dry by night.

We decided to free one sailor from duty

and he was to take over as a cook,

something we just didn’t have.

The cook’s duties were to find food

and cook it in a huge metal cauldron,

which we had procured in the same way

as the rum and barrage balloon. 

     The cauldron was raised on stones and heated

by pouring gasoline on the limestone underneath.

This worked out quite well.

The cook scrounged tomatoes (pomadori)

which were plentiful and we managed some bully beef

(the same way as rum, barrage balloon and cauldron).

This was all stirred up together

and one night we had tomatoes and bully beef,

and the next night we had bully beef and tomatoes.

Once in a while we threw in a sea boot

to add a little flavour. 

     Although we were like a bunch of orphans,

spirits always remained high. There were hundreds

of cleverly contrived anti-personnel bombs about,

but we and the cook were well-schooled on these.

Field Marshall Montgomery spoke highly

of the Canadian flotillas through the British Admiralty

and said he was glad to have us along.

After about 38 days, the Army and Air Force

had won the day and Sicily was freed.

Our work was done. 

"Dad, Well Done", Page 108

 Doug Harrison, RCNVR and Combined Ops

Combined Operations patch

I recommend readers search for books or news articles by Ernie Pyle, American war correspondent, killed in action in 1945.

More information can be obtained about my father's memoirs by using the 'click on Headings' (i.e., memoirs re Combined Operations) or by contacting me at gordh7700@gmail.com

*An article by Hal Boyle ('Mediterranean is Now an Allied Mill Pond') can be found on this website, about four or five articles from the top of the entry (link provided).

**Doug Harrison writes about unloading a crate of rum from a supply ship while in Sicily. It was addressed to 'The Officers'Mess." Did it find its way to the officers' mess? You get three guesses. My guess is, my father felt that the officers would not miss something they did not know they had.

Please link to Passages: 'HERE IS YOUR WAR' (2) by Ernie Pyle

Photos GH

Editor's Research: Invasion of Italy (14) - Montreal Star (Sept. 23-24, '43)

Still a Lot Happening in Italy

Allies press toward Naples, which is reported to be burning

For those who enjoy reading expansive WW2 history books and ongoing, daily news reports about, for example, the Allied battle for steady advancement and ultimate control in Italy - a very tough slog - the study of microfilm re The Montreal Star would not be a waste of time, especially for Canadians, Americans and Brits.

News reports about the American 5th Army, the British 8th Army and (eventually) the Canadian Army steadily poured forth from The Med for weeks and months, during 1943 - mid-'45.

That being said, those readers (such as myself) interested in the Canadians in Combined Operations, news is sparce. There's a flood of news about Allied advances, ground gains and losses. But there's only an occasional drop about the members of the 80th Flotilla of Canadian Landing crafts toiling between Messina, Sicily and Reggio di Calabria (on Italy's toe of the boot), i.e., during the time span of my current research project re Sept. - Oct., 1943. 

Members of RCNVR and Comb. Ops worked diligently during Operation Husky (invasion of Sicily beginning in early July, 1943). They were then sent to rest, recuperate and repair their landing crafts on Malta in August. They are still working tough shifts daily, faithfully supplying necessary troops and materials of war for the Allied push in Italy, during September and October, '43.

The majority of posts related to my current research of The Montreal Star (to track down the Star war correspondent who accompanied the 80th Flotilla on one of their runs; to locate any articles about such a run), contain a steady flood of news about about various war fronts, including articles, editorial cartoons and ads that supply readers with some knowledge of the times when a wee slice of the Canadian Navy Volunteer Reserve was attempting to support Allied troops in Italy. 

It would be a long time before vacationers returned

to the lovely tourist regions near or in Naples

While Canadians in Combined Operations transported men and supplies, members of the RAF and RCAF delivered devastation to Hanover, "into enemy Europe":

Photographs found in The Star continue to be grainy (as do captions and accompanying articles) but we can still pick up a bit of a glimpse re what was going on at this time in Italy, i.e., late September, 1943. Below we see a Canadian Army Captain taking "over the depot (and garrison headquarters) from the Italian commander":

Canadians in Combined Ops did get some time off during this time and visited some of the stores and depots in order to purchase items of interest (souvenirs). Doug Harrison writes:

We had some days off and we travelled, did some sight seeing, e.g., visiting German graves. We met Sicilian prisoners walking home disconsolately, stopped them, and took sidearms from any officer. We saw oxen still being used as draft animals when we were there. Sometimes we went to Italy and to Allied Military Government of Occupied Territory (AMGOT). (They later changed that name because in Italian it meant sh--!)

While a couple of ratings kept the man in charge of all the revolvers busy, we picked out a lot of dandies. If he caught us we were ready. We had chits made out, i.e., “Please supply this rating with sidearms,” signed Captain P. T. Gear or Captain B. M. Lever, after the Breech Mechanism Lever on a large gun.

Page 37, "Dad, Well Done"

Allied forces had their hands full as they tried to gain ground in southern Italy:

Canadian war correspondent Ross Munro, who also travelled aboard Canadian landing crafts at times, writes about some men who received awards for their actions while in Sicily. The report below was written in August (28th) but appears about four weeks later in the Sept. 23 issue of The Star.

Because of these occasional delays, I have come to think that my writer of interest, Sholto Watt, may be writing about his experiences as well but not getting articles posted on or very near the date of writing. So my search may have to be extended into mid-late October even though the Canadians of the 80th Flotilla left Sicily/Italy in early October.

From Ross Munro:

The font size on the italics print above is very small and gets no clearer with enlargement capabilities on my computer. It reads - "Four weeks ago Ross Munro cabled the following story on decorations won by officers and men of the 1st Canadian Division in the Sicilian campaign. The story could not be released pending official announcement by National  Defence Headquarters in Ottawa of the full list. In the meantime several names of those decorated became known through letters to relatives."

The map below provides the dates when several events began, including Sept. 3 for the invasion of Reggio Calabria, aka Operation Baytown, which included the 80th Flotilla of Canadian Landing Crafts. Also seen is the Sept. 9 date for the invasion of Salerno, aka Operation Avalanche, fiercely contested.

In Hal Boyle's article below - a detailed eyewitness account - he describes landing on beaches south of Salerno in what I feel was not an LCM (used by the 80th Canadian Flotilla) but one of the following: a Landing Craft, Tank (LCT), Landing Ship, Tank (LST), or an Infantry, Large (LCI (L)), large enough for a ward room and bunks, and with a flat bottom, in part for some. These types of landing craft were used aplenty during the invasion of Normandy in June, 1944:

Canadian in Combined Ops were sent to Malta after their work associated with the invasion of Sicily was completed in early August. Some, like my father, needed medical care because of dysentery, an intestinal problem that seemed to hit just a lot of men. Others received time to rest and read mail, some were instructed to get busy and make repairs to landing crafts needed for the next operation, i.e., the invasion of Italy in September.

Here is part of what my father recalls:

After approximately 27 days (in Sicily) I came down with severe chills and then got dysentery. I was shipped to Malta on the Ulster Monarch and an intern came around and handed me 26 pills. I inquired how many doses was that? “Just one,” he replied. At Malta I was let loose on my own to find Hill 10 Hospital. I did after a while and they asked me my trouble.

I said, “Dysentery.”

“Oh, we’ll soon cure that,” they said.

How? “We won’t give you anything to eat.”

So for four days all I got was water and pills and soon I was cured, though weak. I thought of those poor devils in the desert.

When I felt better they sent me to a tent where I got regular meals. I saw an air force newspaper and on the front was a picture of Bob Alexander of Norwich, a school chum. But Bob returned to the fray and was lost on one of his bombing missions. How sorry I was to hear that news. He had already done so much.

Soon all the boys returned to Malta and we prepared for Italy, though all our barges stayed in Sicily. 

Editor's note: Many Canadian barges had to be repaired after hard use in Sicily, but the 81st Flotilla was not required (learned later) for the Italian invasion.

My father continues:

We took a Landing Ship Tank (LST) back to Mila Marina, Sicily and, if memory serves me correctly, attacked Italy at Reggio Calabria across Messina Straits on my birthday, September 6, 1943.

Editor's note: My father's memory was very good almost to the end of his days. However, Operation Baytown, in which he took part (and writes about), began on September 3, 1943. Dad later writes about celebrating his birthday a few days later while housed in Sicily, after the invasion of Italy.

More news from The Montreal Star to lend a bit of flavour to the times:

Photo Credit for U.S. war poster - The Boston Library System

I include the following photo, though of poor quality, because it depicts a transportation system - re war materiel - that is about another type of the power needed to supply troops, i.e., 'mule power' vs man power and landing crafts:

Hats off to a "big American field hospital" (mentioned above) for delivering an Italian woman's baby in dire circumstances. While reading the news article from The Star I recalled a few lines from my father's memoirs:

Setting - Messina, Sicily (the departure point for men and supplies to Italy)

Time Line - Same as above, approximately

Topic - Same as above, approximately : )

Dad writes:

There was no resistance (re Operation Baytown, invasion of Italy on Sept. 3, 1943).

The air force had done a complete job and there wasn’t a whole building standing and the railroad yards were ripped to shreds. How long we worked across the straits I cannot really recall, but perhaps into October. One of our stokers set up a medical tent for the civilians at Messina and treated them for sores and rashes. We fed them too but when pregnant women came we had to close up shop.

Page 37, "Dad, Well Done"

Thumbs up for "Made in Canada, WW2":

Other items of interest - at least to the Editor of 1,000 Men - from The Montreal Star on Sept. 24, 1943:

The Tirpitz, Germany's largest battleship, is the subject of several very readable books. It was eventually sunk by Allied forces and many would say, "Well done!"

The Allied raid on St. Nazaire in France in the spring of 1942 (the earliest raid, I believe, in which Canadians were involved), a few months before before the Dieppe raid, was connected to the Tirpitz.

Monty was right:

Books about the battle for Stalingrad are gripping. Perhaps copies of the film mentioned below still exist. I will see what Mr. Google has to say.

Mr. Google says, "Check out YouTube." https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yRS4jdbhW3s

Photo credit - link to old movie posters

More news from Sholto Watt and Scott Young to follow.

Please link to Editor's Research: Invasion of Italy (13) - Montreal Star (Sept. 18-22, '43)

Unattributed Photos GH