Chapter 15

Salerno:
Our Start In Combat

Salerno was one of the bloodier, more critical operations of the Second
World War. For a time the action hung in the balance as strong enemy
counterattacks smashed and threatened the very existence of the initial
beachhead. But at the last, a gallant defense held firm and Salerno
was won. This was the opening struggle of the long and bitter Italian
campaign.

The first day: Dawn—September 9, 1943

Before dawn of Thursday morning, September 9, 1943, without previous

naval or air bombardment, the leading waves stepped ashore on the sandy
beaches near ancient Paestum. From the high range of hills surrounding the
Salerno plane, German Artillery was emplaced to protect the invasion’s
shoreline.

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The enemy had been forewarned of the approaching fleet and had issued an
alert to its beach defenders at 1600 of September 8. Soon after the first
two assault waves had slipped silently ashore under the cover of morning
darkness, enemy gunners were aroused. At the medieval Paestum Tower
German machine gunners and snipers fired from the balcony
.
At daylight, German Artillery began to pound the beaches. To counter, navy
craft laid smoke screens while landing boats laden with troops, guns, and
supplies edged in.

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As infantrymen slugged forward toward their objectives, bulldozers and
engineers (above) feverishly worked to clear the beach obstacles, teller
mines and barbed wire. Engineers also prepared roads and outlets in order
to receive the massing stores of supply. Enemy planes in ever-greater
numbers skipped in to harass the landing operations.

Invading troops faced imposing Mount Soprano, (shown below) In the plain
below were olive orchards, orange groves, and well-cultivated fields. The
ancient Greek Temple of Neptune at Paestum (lower right) marked the only
settlement on the plane. Frank Duncan, the artist, was a member of the 36th
Division and sketched many of its battle scenes.

The following was taken from the Battery C newsletter. It is by Amil

Kohutek. Following that is my Dad’s comment on it.

Salerno remembered
By Amil Kohutek (conclusions—don’t have first part)

Last issue we left Amil unloading tons of sea water out of his jeep on the
beach at Paestum. Now to continue…

Close by, a bulldozer was moving back and forth. Later I learned that his
job was to shove boats back into deeper water. About this time, a German
machine gun opened up and I heard the bullets glancing off the dozer’s
blade. The operator never looked up or even appeared to know he was being
fired on. As we went over a slight rise, I had to slow down as men were lying
all around. I had to carefully maneuver my jeep to keep from running over
them. I thought at first they were firing from a prone position and firing
rifles, only to learn later that they were either dead or wounded. I
continued on and pulled my vehicle under a clump of bushes next to a fence

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and we started digging in. I could see many mines attached to the high
weeds nearby.

This led me to believe the ground where I stood had not yet been occupied
by the Americans. The tower was still in my sight and gave the appearance
of being in Kraut hands. I could see no vehicles or Artillery pieces anywhere
but in minutes a large amphibious truck (DUKW or Duck as it was commonly
called) pulled up near me and the driver jumped out and began to set up an
antenna. Someone remarked that the operator of this radio had contact
with the War Department which prompted Pickard to allow as how,
“Roosevelt knows where we are even if we don’t know ourselves.” Near this
radio duck another one with an “A” frame mounted on it was engaged in
lifting 105’s off incoming ducks. This “A” frame operator was, of course,
greatly exposed to enemy fire in his position several feet above ground level
and certainly, if anyone on that beachhead, on that morning deserved a
medal it was he, who continued, without interruption to unload Artillery while
shells burst all around and everyone else had burrowed themselves deep into
Mother Earth.

The place becoming somewhat crowded, I picked another place to park my

jeep and dug another hole. We had no more than got comfortable in that
hole than a firefight developed between some nearby Doughs and the
occupants of the tower. This fight continued for several minutes with
American rifle fire being answered with the sporadic firing of a heavy
German machine gun. Evidently the Germans had never spotted my jeep and
after a while the G.I.’s quit firing and for minutes all was quiet until landing
craft approached the sector and the enemy machine gun directed its
attention towards that boat. Almost immediately 20mm fire joined the fray
and together they laced the shore near the landing craft. 20mm fire sliced
across the sandy beach about belt-buckle high. I got the idea that the
beach area was not a very healthy place to dilly-dally and so we moved for a
third time.

Soon after taking up my third position some artillerymen began setting up

105’s on our right—almost next to us—in their ragged formation they began
sending 105 shells inland and I noticed a long, tall shavetail that seemed
familiar to me. It turned out to be Lt. Gilbert Koff who was assigned to C
Battery for a short time at Camp Edwards before being transferred to the
133rd. Koff’s gun barrels were not elevated, which led me to believe that the
target was in sight of the gunners. Some of the guns were firing armor
piercing shells and one of the pieces doing this firing was our own Sergeant

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Johnny Janak and his gun and crew. (I found out later that the target was
enemy tanks).

Pickard elected himself to scout the area directly in front of us, and almost
didn’t make it back. A 20mm shell plowed into the sand right at his feet.
Thank God, it must have been made by a disgruntled slave laborer who failed
to include an explosive in the shell, for it turned out to be a dud. At one
time I found myself standing beside Major Frank Fulgham, looking inward
toward the target area when I thought I had spotted a German Artillery
piece pointed directly at us. I told Fulgham, who took a long look through his
field glasses and then handed them to me. Through the lens I could plainly
see it was nothing but a haystack made in the same manner as we used to
make them in Texas with the hay staked around a pole. This particular
haystack had been knocked over and what I took to be a gun barrel was
nothing but the pole.

When Pickard returned from his almost fatal scouting he told us of the
death of Private Salvatore Alfano and the near fatal wounding of Captain
Hodges. Both were the victims of machine-gun fire from tanks. Alfano died
immediately. Hodges was evacuated to an offshore hospital ship and later
back to the states. He could have been one of the many dead and wounded
that I had observed on the beach.

Years later, a man from Battery C, 131st F.A. told me that his gun crew
landed just under the tower mentioned above, and that at the time they
landed there were no US infantrymen anywhere near. They unlimbered their
guns, boresighted the tower and took the top off of it along with the
German machine gunner. The Captain of that Battery, Captain Ross Ayers,
won a silver star there on the beach.

As the morning wore on Major Snow saw my jeep, commandeered it, and with
a “Let’s Go!” the three of us took off to search for all the 132nd guns. We
found first one Battery and then another. None had all four of their own
guns; some had less than four and others had five. Before nightfall we had
them sorted out and each Battery with its own four guns. Janek’s was the
last to join his Battery. All the Artillery units had performed well under
unusual circumstances and every piece had joined in the fight to secure the
beachhead.

We pulled into the Battery area. All four guns were silent and exhausted
cannoneers were sleeping nearby. Pickard and I had maybe two hours of
sleep when first Sergeant Tanner awoke us and ordered us back to the

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beachhead to try and located Alfano’s body. With Baldy and Tanner we
drove the few miles back to where the landing was made. The beach looked
much different in the moonlight; mountains of supplies were stacked just
above high water; the wounded had been evacuated and the dead removed to
some other place. We found a helmet that might have belonged to Tony; it
had a big hole right in the front and the liner was soaked in blood. Many
days later I noticed that helmet knocking around in the back of a truck.
While we were there we observed the 45th Division’s 179th Infantry coming
ashore. They marched off in a general northeasterly direction; we reconned
to assist the 157th Infantry that had landed on D-day with us. We returned
to the Battery without finding Alfano’s body. Later we learned that the
Americans who died on D-day were buried in an Allied cemetery nearby and
much later to another American cemetery in the Anzio area.

Up to this time I had been on Italian soil for twenty-four hours. Much has
been written about the foul-ups that occurred during that historic date and
anyone who was there most certainly knew of them, but no one was willing to
say they were wrong in what they did. The leaders did not even know where
their battalions were most of the time. Some battalions reported that all
their units were ashore, when, in fact they were scattered all up and down
the beach, some not yet ashore, and at the end of that fateful day no one
could be sure that we were in Italy to stay. The real heroes of the day were
the individual soldiers who, often on their own, managed to dig in and hold
while the mess was sorted out and some semblance of order restored.

First Day: Dad’s version

I read Kohutek’s version of Salerno Beach. He got his facts better than he usually
does. Of course, my version is some different as no two people are the same way.
He was driving the Captain’s jeep and I was operating the radio. We were supposed
to meet the Captain at daylight at a certain spot. As the Captain was badly
wounded and part of his party killed, I never saw him again until back in the States.
(In fact, it was at a reunion at Mineral Wells. You went with us but may not
remember?)

We were to go in in waves. The first wave was Infantry riflemen, the second wave,
riflemen and machine guns & etc. The third wave more of the same plus a few jeeps
with radios. Over 1050 were to be in the fifth wave. Then some heavier stuff and
a few tanks in later waves.

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We were to be on the beach with communications set up when our guns landed. The
Captain and the FO’s were in the second wave and Kohutek and myself were in the
third. We were in a LCT (Landing Craft Troop). They were a low-sided job with a
ramp in front that would lower to let the troops and vehicles unload. We were to
set up contact with the FO’s immediately. We headed for the beach and a little
navy boat ordered us to go back and circle. They said the beach wasn’t clear. I had
already figured that out myself as the German machine guns were dealing us misery.
The best I remember we finally landed about 9 a.m. They couldn’t get clear to the
land so we come off in about three feet of water. There were two jeeps on our
craft. A navy jeep was ahead of ours and it drowned out so they had to back up and
come in again. I waded on in ahead. I had trouble with athlete’s foot since back in
Florida. I had to wear my salt-encrusted shoes and clothes two or three days
before I could change, but the salt water did more to cure my athlete’s feet than
anything else. But I thought my feet would come off before I could change.

Kohutek was correct about his digging holes to get in. I believe he was about the
“hole diggenest” soldier I ever encountered. Most times I had to have
communications set up before I could dig. Too, we always moved in where the
Germans had been and they were excellent at digging holes. So after I checked for
“booby traps” I used one of theirs. They were bad to booby trap things so you had
to be real careful. They did get quite a few of our boys that way. The only reason
we stayed on the beach was because we were in such confusion that the Germans
couldn’t figure out what we were doing either. So they couldn’t get organized to
drive us off. They almost did anyway.

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Somebody in power decided since the Italians had surrendered it wouldn’t be

necessary to bomb and shell the beach ahead of us. So one Division and a few
attached troops went against three crack and entrenched divisions plus a lot of
tanks. They knew exactly where we would land and so we run into the muzzles of
their guns.

I was one of the first Artillery radios on the beach, so I was busy, busy for a while.
Our FO could get me but I couldn’t find the Battery so during the day I relayed
their fire missions to the 131st and 133rd F.A. which had set up close by. The navy
had radios on the beach by then and if our guns couldn’t fire on a certain target I
gave the info to them so at one time I was even relaying fire missions for one
battleship, several cruisers, and destroyers.

Don’t misunderstand me, I didn’t do anymore or as much as a lot of others that was
what I was trained for. The Germans figured out someway that our radio was doing
them damage and sent a tank in after us. He got up about 100 yards away and was
eating up the hedge we were behind with his machine gun. Some Infantry boys run
him off with a bazooka before he tore up our radio. They couldn’t send our tanks
after him because they didn’t start getting ours ashore until about 3 p.m. that day.
By then they had got a bunch more radios and troops on shore. I got a break so
decided to try and scout out our Battery as Kohutek told about.

He was wrong about the shell hitting by me. It was an 88, which was one of the
wickedest guns used in WWII. I never did figure whether it knocked me down or I
fell down trying to get away. If it hadn’t been a “dud” my soldiering would have
been over. I was trying to stay in a road, as I figured they were using it also and it
wouldn’t be “mined”. There were mines everywhere else. Down the road meeting me
come three German tanks. I dove under a low bridge before they saw me and
huddled like a scared rabbit while they drove over it. I decided I wasn’t a good
scout so I returned to the beach. We finally got back and found the rest of C
Battery about sundown.

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Back at Salerno I went back to the Beach to check on something. Three German
planes come in and strafed. They didn’t make their swaths meet and I was between
them. All I got was a little sand thrown on me. Needless to say it hit my back as I
was far down on the ground.

Very few of our tanks had landed. About midafternoon word come down that a
counterattack was coming, with tanks leading and Infantry following. Colonel Green
come by about that time afoot. Somewhere in the commotion he had lost his jeep
driver and radio operator. He saw Kohutek and myself and latched on to us. He
pulled “B” Battery out and took us forward to try to stop the tanks. He took “B”
because at that time they were the only one that had their four guns together.
They kept the trucks and guns about 200 yards apart for protection. The lead
truck knocked down a rock fence and we went over it. I counted nine tanks coming
about a mile away. They were already shooting smoke shells to get our range. The
155 artillery, which was in our division, had a better angle and they turned them
away from us. I have always had a soft spot in my heart for those boys.

I keep recalling things as I write that I hadn’t thought of in years. I had told you
about being attached to the 82nd Airborne Division. After they got their equipment
ashore I was relieved and sent back to my Battery. Right after I got back we were

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on one side of a hill and the Germans on the other. Curtis decided to climb to the
top where he could see over and see if we could get artillery fire on them. He took
another guy and myself.

I carried a portable radio. He left me back from the edge to set up

communications while he slipped forward to see over. I set up and checked in.
What I got was a German speaking English. They had captured one of our radios
and were using it to mess up our transmissions. I could tell he had to be close by. I
peered around to see if I could see him.

About that time Curtis come tearing back and heard the German. He told me to cut
that thing off and let’s get out of here. I didn’t need any urging. Needless to say,
we went back down the hill a lot faster than we went up. It wasn’t entirely because
it was downhill either. Curtis said, “Oh well, they were so close we would have had
to shoot way over them. Anyway we had a good laugh abut it later. (Throw away
anything in this you don’t want.)

As I write I keep recalling more things, so if you can bear up?

I had told you that Colonel Green had latched onto Kohutek and myself about
middle of the afternoon that day we landed. I still hadn’t rejoined “C” Battery, as I
couldn’t find them after the counterattack was turned. He told me where “C” was
but first he wanted me to do something else.

He was sending a Captain from headquarters forward to scout out a new position.
He didn’t know if the area had been cleared. So I was to go along to help the
Captain so if we run into trouble maybe one of us would get back to report (that
cheered me!).

By then we had been issued a 30-caliber carbine to carry. It was much more
convenient to carry. It was light, shorter, and held 175 shells. It could be fired
single-shot or semi-automatic. That also gave us a lot more firepower. However, I
had picked up a submachine gun that had been abandoned on the beach. We were
walking up a dirt road because to get off it there was a good chance of running into
mines. I was walking along at his left. He stopped and said “Look let’s forget
military protocol. You walk up here by me. I don’t want you behind me with that
damn thing. You might stumble and start firing that thing.” So we went along side
by side and accomplished our mission and didn’t run into trouble (much to my relief).

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We had been fired over by all sorts of captured weapons in training. This was so we
could learn to distinguish ours from theirs. Believe me, by that afternoon I could
tell the difference even if I had never heard a German weapon before. But to make
it short, just as we pulled into the rest of the Battery a German machine gun cut
loose. We all hit the dirt (you noticed I said we). It turned out somebody had
captured a machine gun and was fooling with it. The damn fool accidentally started
it firing. After a few tense minutes it was O.K.

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I didn’t get to stay around long as the recon car with our big radio had come into
shore. As I had told you before, because it was more dependable and had longer
range than the rest in the battalion, I caught my first assignment away from the
Battery. They had brought in the 82nd Airborne Division for reinforcement. Their
artillery support had not landed so we were to support them. All the rest of the
radio operators were tied up so an operator from HQ and myself, our car and driver
were sent to get with them. We were to follow some tanks being sent to link up
with them. It was a little tense going through enemy territory behind tanks but we
made it. I don’t remember for sure but we stayed with them two or three days
until the rest of their artillery and etc. come ashore. Then we were relieved and
rejoined the rest (I was relieved too).

When we got there we got the car in the best-protected place we could find and
covered with a camouflage net to try to make it hard for planes to find us. At first
we were the only connection with the rest of the beachhead so I had all kinds of
brass around me all the time, from two-star Generals on down. If I remember
correctly, in that tense time I never saluted a one of them. They didn’t expect it.
Curtis came up once with Colonel Green and later chewed me out for not jumping up
and saluting. The Colonel walked up and heard it. He told Curtis to shut up--that I
knew when to salute and when not to. That ended that.

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