Robert F. Spencer
Company F
2nd Battalion
143rd Regiment

A few days before January 20th, 1944 the 2nd Battalion 143rd Regiment was ordered to proceed to a staging area near the Rapido River. Prior to this move the C.O. of F Company, a Captain, went to the hospital due to illness or a wound leaving the company with only three Second Lieutenants, King, Zebroski and myself.

Needing a Company C.O. the Battalion Commander assigned me to take over. This was not an unusual move during combat operations as replacement officers were always in short supply due to the high casualty rate of officer personnel.

When we arrived at the staging area I had very little knowledge of the 36th Division battle plans; however on Jan. 20th the Battalion C.O. called a meeting of all Company C.O.'s and advised us that the division was to make an attack across the Rapido River and break through the German lines.

The plan was such that others in the division would make the initial crossing and that our Battalion would follow as they gained a foothold on the other side.

On the nights of January 20th and 21st the first attack was launched; from our location we could hear a tremendous amount of artillery and small arms fire. Imagine my consternation when I learned that the initial attack had failed with the attacking unit suffering extremely heavy casualties.

On the evening of January 21st I was again called to a briefing this time held by the Regimental Officers. The officers were noticeably nervous and upset, emphati­cally telling us that we were to launch another attack across the river the next morning and that we would succeed in breaking through the German lines. Failure would not be tolerated!

(After reading General Walker's article in Volume I No. 2, Summer of 1990 I can only guess the pressure that Generals Clark and Keys applied to General Walker and his Staff.)

This pressure then passed on to the Company C.O.'s who had to lead their men into such a disaster. The morning of January 22nd was cold, damp, and foggy, and our artillery had covered the area with smoke shells making visibility near zero.

Sometime before daylight I was ordered to lead Company F across a narrow footbridge and engage the enemy along with the units who proceeded us a short time earlier. At this time German mortar and artillery and small arms fire were extremely heavy. After crossing the footbridge we proceeded toward the German line, coming to a small barbed wire fence. Luckily an artillery shell had made a small hole which 1st Sergeant Jones and I expanded, continuing to move forward.

Shortly afterward I came upon men from a preceding unit whose casualties were so numerous that many in the foxholes were afraid to move. The terrain over which we were attacking was level with no physical depressions to use for protective cover, and the Germans had their machine guns coordinated for defensive fire about two feet above ground. In addition, their Mortar and Artillery were zeroed in just in front of their lines making it impossible to conduct an organized attack. Things were even more complicated because of poor visibility and merging with the other unit during which I lost contact with part of my company.

I discovered a Lieutenant from another company and with his assistance we began to move all able bodied men forward, knowing that remaining in the area would mean certain death. As we moved I could hear Germans in the distance yelling to each other. I was anxious since I could not tell how close we were to their positions. The cold and the darkness added to the terrible feeling of not knowing what could happen next, or where. Suddenly I was knocked unconscious by a head wound.

When I came to I was dazed, sick, and scared. As I lay in the cold not knowing how badly I was injured or what would happen to me, my head throbbed and I was afraid to move, or touch my wound. Luckily Sgt. Jones discovered me, bringing an aid man who bandaged me as best he could. Sgt. Jones offered to locate some men to carry me to the rear but I declined due to the heavy fire. I had seen men suffer further injuries or death during an attempt to get them to a safer area so I advised Sgt. Jones to leave me and take care of himself. Eventually a G.I. came by, and seeing my submachine gun, asked if he might use it as his was inoperative. Since I was also inoperative, I gave my consent!

As time passed I began to think and feel better and decided to attempt to move to the rear on my own. Visibility had improved and I could see an irrigation ditch that appeared to head toward the river. I slowly crawled to it and tumbled in, ignoring the foot of water since the protection was well worth getting wet. I inched my way until I came to a barbed wire fence that prevented me from moving further. I peered out of the ditch and saw that there was a hole in the fence a few yards over; but there was heavy fire at this time and I had to work up the nerve to chance it. I scrambled on all fours out of the ditch, pushed through the hole, and flung myself into the ditch again. Again I followed the ditch until I came to the river where I could see the footbridge that we had crossed earlier. It was intact though most of it was underwater since the flotation had been hit by artillery. The river was cold and swift, and I was not capable of swimming to the other side. To reach safety I would have to cross the bridge.

I decided to crawl to the bridge, staying low to the ground as possible survival was within my reach and I didn't want to blow it.

I slowly crawled to the bridge, again I had to work up nerve enough to attempt crossing to the other side as the bridge was under water and the only way I could possibly make it across was to crawl, holding onto the bridge to keep from being swept away by the strong current of cold water. Still sick and somewhat confused I started across on all fours, how long it took I really don't know, I do know it was the longest few minutes of my life.

With my energy almost gone I reached the other side, there I met a company CO who I knew (name I have forgotten) waiting to lead his company across when he received the order.

My appearance must have been terrible as I was bloody, wet, muddy etc. "My God, Spencer," he said, "what happened to you?" I filled him in on the situation and was then assisted to an aid station to have the wound treated. When I stabilized I was transferred to a field hospital and was later sent to a general hospital in Casserta. I spent the next seven weeks recuperating from my injury, which we referred to as a ‘million dollar’ wound since I missed some hard fighting with the 2nd Battalion around San Pietro. Upon release from the hospital I rejoined the 2nd Battalion.

On January 22, 1944 F Company consisted of three Second Lieutenants and 140 enlisted men. All of the officers had been wounded. Lt. Zebroski was hit seven or eight times in the leg with a machine pistol and had to swim the river the next day; Unfortunately, the casualties among the enlisted men were extremely large — only 15 or so made it to safety and most if not all were wounded, it was indeed a sad day for F Company......

Postscript

The last time I ever saw Sgt. Jones was in the field that day as I lay wounded. He was later killed at Rapido in the service of his country, an excellent soldier, a credit to the 36th Division and to his home state of Texas, and one of many good soldiers who made the ultimate sacrifice.