Operation Husky by Mark Zuehlke

Author:Mark Zuehlke
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Douglas & McIntyre
Published: 2010-08-10T16:00:00+00:00

WHILE THE CONQUEST of Enna had been under way and 2 CIB had been simultaneously dealing with Monte Desira Rossi, 1st Canadian Infantry Brigade had moved into the valley on the road that descended to Dittaino Station and then hooked northwestward to Assoro. The 48th Highlanders of Canada led. As the Loyal Eddies had done, the Highlanders descended in an extended line because of the danger of mines. But again none were encountered, and the battalion was soon enjoying nothing more than a fast walk under a hot sun. “Met with no opposition whatever for ten miles,” the regiment’s war diarist gloated as the Highlanders held up at Dittaino Station and let the Royal Canadian Regiment take the lead.15

It was high noon when Captain Slim Liddell’s ‘A’ Company and Captain Strome Galloway’s ‘B’ Company crossed the Dittaino next to the train station. Their orders were to seize two low foothills either side of the road leading to Assoro.16 Coming up the road behind the infantry were the Shermans of the Three Rivers Regiment’s ‘C’ Squadron. Shortly before the Highlanders had reached the railway station, Allied fighter bombers had attacked a line of boxcars standing on the tracks. As his Sherman rolled past the station, Lieutenant Jack Wallace realized the boxcars had been loaded with ammunition. 17 There was also some kind of factory beside the tracks that had been bombed and was still smouldering. Burning grass added to the pungent smoke emanating from the boxcars and factory. The entire valley floor seemed to have burned off or was still being licked by flames.18 The boxcars were on “fire and making a hell of a racket.” Clanking along behind the infantry, Wallace had to constantly warn the driver of obstacles because the terrain was “all hills, ditches, and rocks ... terrible stuff for tanks to cross.” Every few minutes an artillery shell exploded near one of the Shermans. From somewhere on the ridgeline between Leonforte and Assoro, a single German gun was taking potshots at them. For the first time since landing in Sicily, Wallace decided the situation warranted exchanging his black tanker’s beret for a tin helmet. The shelling worried ‘C’ Squadron commander Major Pat Mills enough that he ordered the tanks to spread out in the relatively open and level ground behind ‘A’ Company’s line of advance to avoid presenting a bunched target.

As the tanks jockeyed to assume the new formation, Liddell tried to warn them off because his men had just discovered an anti-tank minefield. He was too late. Wallace had gone no more than twenty yards when a “terrific explosion . . . lifted the front . . . off the ground. I thought that we had received a direct hit on the tracks from a shell ... The force of the concussion sat me right down on the floor of the tank. I had been standing up. I knew that I had been hit on the head because blood was pouring from a gash in my forehead.

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