Colonel Vincent M. Lockhart
Headquarters, 36th Division

On 21 September 1943 the 36th Division was given the limited mission of outposting the old beachhead area and given time to reorganize and re-equip for further offensive operations.

The Luftwaffe was very much in evidence in those early days in Italy. The nightly raids on the great port of Naples were the principle harassment as the 36th Infantry Division rested and trained in the Pozzouli area just north of Naples. Two bombs dropped in the ancient cemetery back of the Quartermaster dump one night, leaving huge craters, but no one was injured.

Early in November, the Division assembled in the Pignataro, Villa Volturno area. On the 15th of November we reentered the line in the mountainous Mignano sector.

First back into the line was the 142nd Infantry, which relieved the 7th Infantry of the 3rd Division on 15-16 November. The following night the 143rd relieved the 30th and the 141st relieved the 15th.

The rest of the month of November was rainy, muddy, cold and quiet, although the Division lost more than 550 officers and men from the heavy enemy artillery fire and from patrol actions. Non-battle casualties brought on by the severe weather and poor living conditions were three times this amount.

But this was the lull before the storm.

Small clouds loaded with the promise of rain floated above the mile-high mountains. In the West a dull red glow marked the setting sun. The day of 2 December 1943 had been ominously quiet and those who were "in the know" awaited the hour of 1530.

Members of the Division Forward CP left their tents to walk to higher points of advantage overlooking the valley that stretched back toward Naples.

A salvo of heavy guns blasted the quiet twilight and the echo beat back and forth in the Italian mountains.

The barrage of the "Million Dollar Mountain" was launched..

For thirty minutes 600 guns crashed and thundered. The twilight did not fade, for the flashing lights of gun muzzles illuminated the valley. The black and white blast of landing shells marked almost every square yard of Mount Maggiore. Some light howitzers rammed a round a minute for those thirty minutes.

Not since El Alamein had such an array of artillery signaled an attack.

Nightfall brought the rain, the blackness that only an Italian winter seems to have, and the launching of an attack on Mount La Difensa by the newly assigned First Special Service Force. At 0300 the following morning, the First Battalion of the 142nd Infantry Regiment pushed off from the ridge just west of Mignano and by 0817 had taken the next ridge, known as 370. At 0400 the Second Battalion started the attack which sought to break the hold of the Nazis on their Winter Line. Men under the command of Lt. Col. Samuel S. Graham of Huntsville, Texas, drove through the rocks and over slippery trails with incredible speed, considering the terrain. They occupied Hill 596 by 1130 and by 1700 hours had crossed over Hill 619 to capture the crest of Mount Maggiore. The Third Battalion followed them closely and took up the defense of Hill 596.

By 0420 Colonel Robert T. Frederick’s Special Service Force men of Canada and America had stormed the rocky fortress of La Difensa and passed on to hold briefly the adjacent Hill 907.

Early the next day, the 4th of December, the First Special Service Force was forced to withdraw from Hill 907, which they re-took two days later after a bloody battle. The 142nd Infantrymen consolidated their hold, from which they could have seen the famous Abbey de Monte Cassino, had not continuous rain blocked all vision. On 8 December, the First Battalion relieved the First Special Service Force.

The task of supply and evacuation was almost insurmountable, and for the first time, T-Patch men were supplied from the air. Mule packs and man packs took rations and water to the defenders, and gallant litter bearers became bleary eyed and almost walking unconscious men as they worked continuously to evacuate the wounded. From Mount Maggiore to Mignano was a twelve-hour one way trip. The distance was only five kilometers, "as the crow flies," but no crow was found hardy enough to fly it.

Gallant work by such medicos as Private Clarence 0. Whately of Snyder, Texas, who dressed wounds under fire and started the evacuation chain, and such "pack men" as Technical Sergeant Shag Garrett of Santa Anna, Texas, who led a pack platoon across the treacherous fire-swept trails to the Second Battalion, won them the undying gratitude of their rifle packing friends and Bronze Star medals.

The 143rd went into action on the night of 7 December and stormed the snowy, sleety heights of Mount Sammucro, famous among the men as "1205." By 1100 hours on the 8th, Sammucro belonged to the men of the First Battalion and the Second and Third battalions had commenced a series of attacks on the fanatically defended fortress city of San Pietro.

If versatility alone had been the price of success, then San Pietro would have been ours for the asking. The 141st Infantry was marked for its dashing courage, the 142nd for its clever maneuver and the 143rd for its rugged and persistent pressure.

Upon this foundation was heaped accurate artillery, gallantly directed from the rocky slopes with the infantry or by those debonair "cub" observers who played tag with the low flying clouds and the towering mountain peaks.

Add to this basis the point blank fire of the tank destroyers, from positions taken in darkness despite minefields, and the reckless courage of the tankers who drove into action despite the narrow confines, and you have the reason why, by the end of the week, the fortified little village at the foot of Mount Sammucro was ours.

The First Battalion of the 143rd during the early part of the week fiercely clung to the granite crags of 1205 despite fanatical counterattacks by an enemy determined to hold the Winter Line. In one day alone nine counterattacks were launched and beaten back, and the swirling snow banked around the bodies of once proud "supermen" of Hitler.

This observation taken from the crafty enemy, the Second and Third Battalions of the 143rd launched an attack from the ridge just east of Ceppagna and along the slopes toward San Pietro. This was the first of a multitude of encounters with the German system of fortified villages and cities. The intense automatic fire, barbed wire and mines halted the attack after only a few hundred yards had been gained.

The First Italian Motorized Brigade, operating under "T-Patch" control, had simultaneously charged the barren Mount Lungo, but had been driven to their original positions.

In quick succession, the next few days unfolded a story of aggressive heroism that vies with all the incidents in the colorful history of the Division.

The 142nd Infantry, relieved of their hard gained posts on Mount Maggiore by the British, used the cover of night and crossed the Peccia River to attack Mount Lungo from the left rear. The surprised Germans were caught flat footed. More than a hundred died that way, while 33 trudged back to the POW cage and the end of the war for them. The success was made possible by men like Corporal Jesse D. Hollemon, Jr., of Texas City, Texas, who gave his life in the effort, and Second Lieutenant David 0. Gorgol of Binghamton, New York, who charged into an emplaced machine gun and killed its operators with a submachine gun. Both were awarded the Distinguished Service Cross.

The 143rd maintained its relentless pressure on the east flank of San Pietro, with the Third Battalion high up on the slopes below the cliffs of "1205". The determined, aggressive leadership of such officers as First Lieutenant William J. Langston of Douglas, Georgia, made advances possible under the most adverse circumstances. He was awarded the D S C.

The First Battalion began its sweep west from Mount Sammucro down the Clelle Morello, and the roster of Distinguished Service Crosses mentions almost every company: Private First Class Robert E. Watson of Charlottesville, Virginia; Staff Sergeant William F. Parrott of Rusk, Texas; and Second Lieutenant Melvin F. Wiggins of Paris, Arkansas.

In one of the bloodiest battles fought by the Division, the 141st Infantry charged across the valley from Mount Rotundo to add the third side of pressure against the stone village. Company G, led by Captain Charles M. Beacham of San Antonio, Texas, bore the brunt of this attack. Casualties were heavy. Every man of the company exemplified courage, with the example set by the commander.

Wounded in the face by the shell fragments, he continued to lead the attack. The radio operator was a casualty and Captain Beacham took up the instrument until blood from his wounds seeped into the radio and impaired its operation. Still refusing aid, he moved over the fireswept terrain, reorganizing his company and preparing to resume the attack. Another shell sprayed his entire body with fragments. Weakened from the loss of blood, he turned the company over to his executive. He refused to be carried from the field, but aided another wounded officer and two wounded men through the heavy fire to the battalion aid station.

Private First Class Robert L. Arnett of Boles, Kentucky, was killed by snipers as he coolly laid covering fire for three comrades who eliminated a machine gun emplacement. Private First Class Dallas D. Prather of Princeton, Illinois, was undeterred by a wound and continued on boldly to draw fire in order to expose enemy positions. Both Arnett and Prather joined Beacham in receiving the D S C.

Blasted from three sides by such extraordinary heroism, the few remaining Germans ran out under cover of night. Patrols at dawn found San Pietro ours. The terrible effects of artillery and aerial bombs completely devastated the little village and it was never rebuilt. The Italians built another San Pietro, identical with the original, just a half mile to the west.

The battle shifted to Clelle Morello and the hilltop stone village of San Vittore.

At this time, the action by Divisional units was confined to slow, bitterly contested ground fighting by the 141st and 143rd regiments. The greatest gain of the week was the capture of the high ground overlooking San Vittore by the First Special Service Force, operating, as was the 504th Parachute Infantry, under the command of the 36th Division.

The 15th Infantry Regiment of the 3rd Division relieved the 142nd Infantry Regiment, which assembled as Corps Reserve in the Venafro area.

Outstanding work during this period was particularly done by the 111th Combat Engineer Battalion. The newly won valley below San Pietro had literally been blown apart. The engineers had the task of restoring roads and bridges and building new roads.

The type of "plain guts" and "stickability" exhibited by these "castlemen" can be exemplified by Private First Class Felix Guss of Company C, whose home was in Windber, Pennsylvania. The Germans were literally shelling the hell out of the area where Guss was working, but he kept doggedly at his job. Then some ME 109’s and FW 190’s came over, bombing and strafing the road junction. He kept at his job, even though some of the artillery shells were landing within fifty feet of him. A second air raid just after noon caught him still at his post. He was killed. But his work and his inspiration to his fellows carried on. He was posthumously awarded the Silver Star.

Despite the fact that he was dazed by the bombing, Private First Class Leroy 0. Gloor, medic from Gonzales, Texas, stuck at his job of treating the wounded during the attack. He also won the Silver Star.

The bitter attacks against San Vittore were unsuccessful, although if heroism alone would have won the battle, such men as First Lieutenant James A. Wharton of Baltimore, Maryland, of the 143rd Infantry would have led the way to victory. In offensive action, Lieutenant Wharton was painfully wounded. Battalion Headquarters needed to be advised of the situation. Wharton set out across open and rocky terrain to reach his radio.

En route he was twice again wounded, but he continued until he reached the radio, reported to his Headquarters, then calmly directed mortar fire which knocked out the opposing machine guns. He received the Silver Star.

Combat action over those snow swept hills can be epitomized by the actions of Sergeant Hugh H. Merritt of Snyder, Texas. His citation for the Distinguished Service Cross reads:

"Sergeant Merritt volunteered to join a patrol with the mission of reconnoitering a large draw at the base of a hill. The patrol, after working its way down a trail under intense enemy artillery and mortar fire, advanced cautiously into the draw and suddenly found itself within five yards of a hidden German machine gun nest. Having been surprised by the patrol, a member of the enemy crew attempted to fire the machine gun, but Sergeant Merritt opened fire on the German gunner, killing him. He then charged the remaining four Germans who had opened fire with machine pistols. He shot the commander of the enemy crew, but was unable to prevent others from escaping, because another enemy machine gun nearby opened fire on the patrol. The group successfully accomplished its mission, but while returning to the company post, Sergeant Merritt was fatally wounded by enemy mortar fire."

From just before Thanksgiving through December 1943 Division Forward was located on the slopes of the mountains above the little Italian town of Presenzano. Our offices were tents. We slept in caves up above our office and mess location.

General Walker shared a small cave with General William H. Wilbur and Colonel Clayton P. Kerr. The aides and general staff group slept in a medium cave close to the general’s cave. Our cave had been enlarged by man for grape storage. All others slept in a rather large natural cave about three hundred yards east of the general’s cave.

Two of the occupants of the general staff cave were Lt Col Fred L. Walker, Jr., the G-3, and his principal assistant Major Robert H. Travis. They were staunch friends and most effective officers.

We normally arose to go down to breakfast at 6:00 o’clock and would stay "down there" through lunch and dinner and walk up the narrow, dark trail to the caves about 10:00 P. in.

I recall one late evening, when "Ace" and "Zilch", as they called themselves, were walking up the trail arm in arm after a difficult day.

"Just think, Ace," Major Travis said. "You have taken this on as a career!"

Ask any old timer about New Years Day of 1943, and if he’s from the 142nd Infantry or the 132nd Artillery, he’ll shiver and move closer to the fire and tell you to shut UP!

If he’s from the other T-Patch units, he’ll shiver, smile wryly, move closer to the fire and tell you to shut up.

The difference is that for the 142nd boys and their artillery counterparts there was little to smile about on the blizzard swept slopes of Mount Sammucro and the hills overlooking San Vittore. There was a grim sort of humor to the storm that wrecked most of the tents of the rest of the division in the rest area at Alife.

Rear echeloners and combat men alike had a rough time of it as the icy wind howled down out of the Italian hills and ripped out corners of tents, uprooted pegs, and otherwise disturbed what was left of the New Year after the customary celebration.