The italian blitz 1940–43: bomber command’s war against mussolini’s cities, docks and factories 1st
The
Italian Blitz 1940–43:
Bomber Command’s War Against Mussolini’s Cities, Docks and Factories 1st Edition
James S. Corum
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Bomber Command’s war against Mussolini’s cities, docks and factories
RICHARD WORRALL | ILLUSTRATED BY GRAHAM TURNER
AIR CAMPAIGN THE ITALIAN BLITZ
1940–43
Bomber Command’s war against Mussolini's cities, docks and factories
RICHARD WORRALL | ILLUSTRATED BY GRAHAM TURNER
INTRODUCTION
The crowd gathered at the Palazzo Venezia in Rome to hear Mussolini’s declaration of war on Britain and France on 10 June 1940. Launching his ‘parallel war’ in the Mediterranean, Italy’s war required German assistance from early 1941. (Getty Images)
This is a grave hour for our Fatherland. The hour [of] irrevocable decision. The Declaration of War is already decided … We are going to war to break the chains laid upon us and we shall defend our territories everywhere. Only thus can a people of 52 millions remain free …
Benito Mussolini, 10 June 1940
After nine months of ‘belligerent neutrality’, Mussolini declared war on Britain and France on 10 June 1940. Italy’s ‘parallel war’ thus began in the Mediterranean, a conflict for dominance of the central sea in a war for empire: the maintenance of one and acquisition of territory for the other. As the last British Ambassador to Rome, Sir Percy Lorraine, wrote:
… one must win the other most lose. Our lengthwise communications in the Mediterranean cannot co-exist with Italian north-south communications in the same sea in war.
Within hours, the Air Ministry in London had despatched a ‘Most Immediate’ telegram to its Commands and establishment, both at home and abroad, that stated:
As from 0001 hours British summer time Tuesday 11th June a state of war will exist with Italy.
One of the recipients was Air Marshal Sir Charles Portal, then head of RAF Bomber Command. Right from the beginning, it would be involved in the war against Mussolini’s Italy, and 4 Group’s Whitleys and 3 Group’s Wellingtons went into action that night or, in the latter’s case, attempted to.
A forgotten air campaign
The strategic bombing of Italy has been, and continues to be, a topic that has been examined by a considerable number of Italian historians. Yet for English-speaking readers it has been, and still remains, a neglected episode of the aerial conflict during World War II. Whilst many volumes have examined the combined bomber offensive against Germany and the American air campaign against Japan (including the atomic bomb attacks), the bombing offensive against the third member of the Axis coalition has received little coverage at all. Such an omission makes this volume unique, with its detailed examination of Bomber Command’s campaign against Italy, which lasted from June 1940 to August 1943. Many titles on Bomber Command show this tendency towards neglecting the campaign against Italy –often covering it only in passing. This is perhaps no surprise given that certain sources, used heavily by subsequent authors on Bomber Command, say little about the bombing of Italy. In his official Despatch on War Operations, Sir Arthur Harris, C-in-C of Bomber Command, devoted little space to this campaign, an indication that he remained unenthusiastic – though certainly not obstructive – about it. The only exception is the bold claim he made as to the outcome:
The last stages in the bombing of the industrial cities of Italy were extremely successful, both in causing material damage and in finally destroying what little inclination remained in that country to continue a disastrous war … The bombing produced quite hysterical accounts of woe in the press and radio, and there is little doubt that it was the principal factor contributing to the downfall of Mussolini’s regime. [my emphasis]
Such sentiments, overblown if not completely incorrect, were presented with little additional detail, and were not critiqued by subsequent authors, apart from Richard Overy and Claudia Baldoli. Harris’ memoirs followed a similar path, with only three pages out of 288 covering Italy, and astonishingly only Bomber Command’s campaign of autumn 1942 ‘to throw the Germans out of Africa’ was mentioned. Yet because his book was written for public consumption, there was still sufficient space for the claims to have got even bolder:
there is no doubt that the panic caused by Bomber Command’s attacks on industrial cities in North Italy, though the weight of the attack was insignificant compared with that of the offensive against Germany, did as much as any other single factor to bring about the downfall of Fascism in that country.
Other memoirs by senior officers in Bomber Command, namely by Air Vice-Marshal Sir Robert Saundby, Deputy C-in-C Bomber Command, or the commanding of the Pathfinder, Air Vice-Marshal Donald Bennett, shed little light on the bombing of Italy, either. Indeed, Bennett wrote that he perceived Bomber Command ‘as a mighty weapon for striking at the heart of the enemy – that is to say, at Germany itself’. Even Churchill – in many ways the central figure in directing the war in the Mediterranean – said little in his mammoth history of World War II (12 volumes in paperback) about the bombing of Italy, despite his pivotal role in ordering it.
dictator Benito Mussolini. The Duce believed that it was Italy’s destiny to dominate the Mediterranean by carving out a New Roman Empire in Africa and the Near East. (Getty Images)
Italian
Winston Churchill in August 1941. The Prime Minister frequently pressed for bombing attacks on Italy, but this was with a political goal in mind, namely to break civilian morale and force Italy’s capitulation. (Getty Images)
The other source heavily utilised by authors on Bomber Command was the British Official History. Published in 1961, the Strategic Air Offensive against Germany (SAOG) was an epic study comprising four volumes. Yet Italy featured little, apart from a brief mention in passing to complete the narrative. This is no surprise given the official historians’ comment that ‘the Italian diversion did not amount to much’ – no doubt made to conform to the official history’s title that only stated Germany – but which, as this volume will show, is an inaccurate judgement. Nonetheless, the SAOG had set the idea that Bomber Command’s offensive against Italy was ‘a non-event’, which could not be further from the truth. Subsequent accounts, which drew heavily on the official history, added little to our understanding of this campaign, which was often merely ‘reviewed’, not analysed. The exceptions were Stephen Harvey’s journal article, the excellent work by Claudia Baldoli and the recent book by Richard Overy, who writes that the bombing of Italy ‘has remained on the margins in most narratives of the conflict ever since’ (see Further Reading). Such a trend is a considerable omission which this volume aims, at least, to partly fill.
Under-researched and scanty coverage does not translate to unimportant. Indeed, the campaign against Italy is far more interesting and important than has been given credit, revealing a number of fascinating aspects about Bomber Command’s war: its methods, tactics, strategy and targeting philosophy. It contained debates and decision-making on to the extent of Bomber Command’s support of amphibious operations in the Mediterranean or whether to attack such cities as Rome, Florence, Verona and Venice, and controversies, such as the use of the Duomo (cathedral) as the aiming-point on raids on Milan. Perhaps most significant was the fact that by late 1942 Bomber Command’s campaign against Italy was blended with the civilian leadership’s conduct of strategy in the Mediterranean – a theatre where Harris was subject to the authority of no military commander. These issues are covered by this volume; to do so, the author has gone back to the archival files, some of which have been listed in Further Reading.
Certainly, Bomber Command’s attacks on Italy were closely connected to the military campaigns in the Mediterranean and North Africa, as shown by the operations to support Montgomery’s El Alamein offensive and the Torch landings in autumn 1942, or the AngloAmerican invasion of Sicily (Operation Husky) in July 1943. Here, Bomber Command was tasked with attacking Genoa to prevent Axis convoys sailing to North Africa, and later the battleships of the Regia Marina (Royal Italian Navy) moored at La Spezia. Strategic bombing was thus part of the Allies’ combined effort to defeat the Axis in the Mediterranean. Yet, at the same time, Bomber Command’s attacks on Italy – as perceived by the airmen – were also conducted in a way to fulfil the ambitions of the so-called ‘Bomber Barons’ who believed airpower could destroy Italian war industry and civilian morale, and thereby bring about Italy’s collapse. This accounts for why Harris, even in late 1942, opted to switch the focus of his Italian operations away from Genoa to Turin, with its restive and strongly left-wing workforce that toiled in the city’s war industries. The political mood and rising discontent in Turin only served to make this an ever more attractive target for Bomber Command in 1942/43. In essence there were a number of reasons for Harris’ operations against Italy, some being tactical and concerned with supporting land and sea operations in the Mediterranean theatre, and others strategic and concerning Italy’s continued status as an enemy power.
Bomber Command’s offensive south of the Alps can therefore be divided into a number of phases, each having a particular goal, which are explained in Campaign Objectives.
Ultimately, what part would Harris’ force play in Italy’s capitulation? Certainly the evidence suggests Bomber Command’s attacks on the northern Italian cities from late 1942 to mid-1943 increasingly worsened Italian morale. Yet a note of caution is needed here. By 1943, Italy was a society suffering from hardship and low morale owing to its disastrous fortunes in the war. The crucial question, therefore, is whether the bombs dropped on a people who were already collectively depressed by the regime’s inept handling of the war?
These issues will be analysed in the final chapter. Stephen Harvey concluded that ‘the bombing had a decisive effect on the … willingness to continue the war’. The same author also highlighted how the bombing impacted on Italy’s ‘ability’ to continue the war. This refers to the damage to Italy’s war industries, which by summer 1943 was extensive, inflicted on a country that Sir Percy Lorraine had called ‘the most vulnerable and the weakest link, militarily, morally and economically, in the chain of our enemy’. Ultimately, both these dimensions –attacking war industry and civilian morale – were pursued to bring about the same thing, namely Italy’s defeat, and were enthusiastically encouraged by the British War Cabinet. For Churchill, Foreign Secretary Anthony Eden and Sir Archibald Sinclair (Secretary of State for Air) maintained substantial control over the bombing campaign against Italy, including its timing, targets and rationale. Perhaps encapsulating this best was Churchill’s Directive of 3 December 1942 that ordered ‘the heat should be turned on Italy’. This sanctioned Bomber Command to deploy ‘shock and awe’ tactics to affect a political outcome in the war against Italy, alongside attacks to help the military campaigns in the Mediterranean. Churchill –very much at the heart of British bombing policy during winter 1942/43 – therefore held ambitions that closely aligned with the ideas of the ‘Bomber Barons’.
In the beginning, Bomber Command’s early attacks on Italy were light ‘pin-prick’ efforts, a nuisance but hardly devastating to the Fascist regime. This changed in autumn 1942. Count Galeazzo Ciano, Mussolini’s son-in-law and foreign minister (until February 1943), recorded in his diary on 9 October 1942 a long conference with General Cesare Amè, head of the Military Intelligence Service. It was a gloomy and pessimistic conversation that, Ciano noted:
lead[s] one to conclude the Anglo-Saxons are preparing to land in force in North Africa, whence, later on, they intend to launch their blows against the Axis. Italy is geographically and logically the first objective. How long shall we have the strength to resist a determined, strong, and methodically aerial and naval offensive?
An answer was not long in coming. Within a year, Mussolini had fallen and Italy had capitulated. This is the story of Bomber Command’s three-year role in bringing about that outcome.
The damaged La Scala Opera House in Milan in August 1943. Italian cities contained many religious, cultural and artistic treasures, which Bomber Command did try to avoid targeting. But the nature of area bombing meant that some bombs inevitably went astray. It is partly for this reason that Bomber Command’s Italian target list remained limited to the northern industrial cities of Turin, Milan and Genoa. Rome, Florence and Verona were placed offlimits for fear of the RAF facing domestic and international condemnation and accusations of ‘vandalism’. (Getty Images)
SWITZERLAND
Porto Marghera
Bolzano
BULGARIA
ALBANIA (IT)
GREECE
Major Italian targets
Minor Italian targets
Italian targets considered by the Air Ministry for attack by Bomber Command, but rejected
British airfield
Italian nightfighter airfield
GERMAN-OCCUPIED EASTERN EUROPE EGYPT (BR)
Route to Milan on 24/25 October 1942 operation
Route to Turin on 12/13 July 1943 operation
Route to Leghorn “Shuttle” raid on 24/25 July 1943
(“Operation Bellicose”)
Boundary between SQA1 (HQ Milan) and SAQ2 (HQ Padua) Italian Air commands, with the SQA1 area
Naval Base
Oil refinery
Zone of operational responsibility of Luftflotte 3 and its nightfighter units based in northwest France, Belgium and the Netherlands
Border between German-occupied France and Vichy France until November 1942
1. Italy attacks Greece on 28 October 1940
2. Crete – taken by German paratroopers in May 1941
3. British take Tripoli 23 January 1943. Axis forces withdraw to the Mareth Line in southern Tunisia. Italian rule ends in Libya
4. Tunisia: final Axis surrender in North Africa on 13 May 1943
5. Blida and Maison Blanche airfields near Algiers. These airfields were used by Bomber Command Lancasters on the ‘shuttle’ attacks (Operation Bellicose) on 23/24 June (target: La Spezia) and 24/25 July 1943 (target: Leghorn)
6. Malta: RAF Wellingtons were based there but it was also an emergency landing area for Bomber Command aircraft
7. Operation Husky – the Anglo-American invasion of Sicily –10 July 1943
8. Rome contained the Commando Supreme (the Italian High Command) and the Ministero Dell’Aeronautica. The centre of the Fascist government, Rome was rejected as a target for Bomber Command due to concern over damaging the city’s religious and cultural sites
9. Salon and Vallon airfields, near Marseilles. RAF Bomber Command used this for the short-lived ‘Haddock Force’, comprising Wellingtons, for operations against Italy during June 1940
10. Switzerland: throughout the war the Swiss submitted protests about Bomber Command’s violation of their airspace. This does affect the routeing of operations to Italy in 1943, which had to continue through South-East France
11. Battle of El Alamein (from 22 October–11 November 1942). RAF Bomber Command is asked to support the offensive by bombing cities in Northern Italy, especially the port of Genoa
12. Operation Torch – the Anglo-American invasion of North Africa – from 8–16 November 1942
13. Lac de Bourget (left) and Lake Annecy (right); important physical features that were used as navigation aids by RAF Bomber Command. Pathfinders dropped flares above the lakes to indicate their location to the Main Force
14. Channel Islands – Bomber Command’s Whitley aircraft refuel here before attacking Italy in mid-June 1940
15. Italian nightfighter bases of Venegono (north-west of Milan) and Lagnasco (south south-west of Turin)
TURKEY
16. Cassibile, Sicily: Italians sign armistice on 3 September 1943. Announced five days later as American forces conduct the Salerno landings and British come assure at Taranto
CHRONOLOGY
1940
31 May Anglo-French Supreme War Council’s tenth meeting passes Resolution to bomb Italy immediately after it enters the war.
10 June Mussolini declares war on Britain and France. HQ Bomber Command issues Operation Order No 36 and the Italy target list to 3 Group.
11/12 June Operation: Turin (36 Whitleys of 4 Group).
3 Group’s Wellingtons (‘Haddock Force’) prevented from taking off from bases in southern France by local French authorities.
15/16 June Operation: Genoa (eight Wellingtons of ‘Haddock Force’).
16/17 June Operation: Genoa, Milan (22 Wellingtons of ‘Haddock Force’). British aircraft return to the UK in view of French surrender.
24/25 June France signs armistices with Germany and Italy.
13/14 August Operation: Milan, Turin (35 Whitleys).
15/16 August Operation: Milan, Turin, Genoa (four Whitleys).
18/19 August Operation: Milan, Turin (four Whitleys).
24/25 August Operation: Sesto San Giovanni, Sesto Calende, Busto Arsizio (ten Whitleys).
26/27 August Operation: Turin, Sesto San Giovanni (11 Whitleys).
27/28 August Operation: Turin, Sesto San Giovanni (ten Whitleys).
1/2 September Operation: Turin, Sesto San Giovanni (five Whitleys).
2/3 September Operation: Genoa (five Whitleys).
5/6 September Operation: Turin (two Whitleys).
3 October War Cabinet informed about Swiss complaints of Bomber Command’s violation of national airspace.
6 October Air Ministry signal to HQ Bomber Command: continue to bomb Italy.
20/21 October Operation: Turin, Sesto San Giovanni, Aosta, Savona (six Whitleys).
28 October Italy attacks Greece. Bomber Command ordered to undertake ‘maximum effort’ against northern Italy that night, weather depending.
30 October Evill sends signal to Peirse: ‘In addition to these primary tasks for your offensive against Germany, I am to request that your offensive against objectives in Northern Italy may be continued whenever favourable conditions occur.’
5/6 November Operation: Turin, Milan, Aosta (19 Whitleys).
8/9 November Operation: Turin, Milan (ten Whitleys).
11 November Directive to 4 Group stating northern Italy should be attacked with all available aircraft, whenever weather conditions are favourable.
23/24 November Operation: Turin (seven Whitleys).
26/27 November Operation: Turin (eight Whitleys).
4 December 3 Group’s Wellingtons take over bombing Italy role, owing to 4 Group’s shortage of Whitleys. They are specifically instructed not to send more than 15 aircraft.
4/5 December Operation: Turin, Milan (15 Wellingtons).
18/19 December Operation: Milan, Genoa (seven Wellingtons).
21/22 December Operation: Porto Marghera (five Wellingtons).
1941
11/12 January Operation: Turin (11 Wellingtons).
12/13 January Operation: Porto Marghera, Turin (nine Wellingtons).
17 January HQ Bomber Command issued new Directive: the primary focus is Germany’s oil industry; Italian operations halted.
10/11 September Operation: Turin (56 Wellingtons, 13 Stirlings, seven Halifaxes).
24–30 September British send major resupply convoy to Malta (Operation Halberd); Bomber Command ordered to support this by attacking Genoa.
26/27 September Operation: Genoa (34 Wellingtons; all recalled except one aircraft).
28/29 September Operation: Genoa, Turin (39 Wellingtons, two Stirlings).
1942
8 January Peirse dismissed as C-in-C Bomber Command; 3 Group’s Air Vice-Marshal Jack Baldwin appointed temporary AOC.
14 February Sir Arthur Harris appointed C-in-C Bomber Command.
12/13 April Operation: Genoa (18 Whitleys).
22/23 October Bomber Command begins operations against Italy to support Montgomery’s offensive at El Alamein. Operation: Genoa (112 Lancasters).
23/24 October Operation: Genoa (53 Halifaxes, 51 Stirlings, 18 Wellingtons).
24 October Operation (daylight): Milan (88 Lancasters).
24/25 October Operation: Milan (25 Halifaxes, 23 Stirlings, 23 Wellingtons).
6/7 November Bomber Command begins operations against Italy to support Torch landings. Operation: Genoa (72 Lancasters).
7/8 November Operation: Genoa (85 Lancasters, 45 Halifaxes, 39 Stirlings, six Wellingtons).
13/14 November Operation: Genoa (67 Lancasters, nine Stirlings).
15/16 November Operation: Genoa (40 Halifaxes, 27 Lancasters, 11 Stirlings).
18/19 November ‘Battle of Turin’ begins: the ‘home of Fiat’ is attacked seven times over the next three weeks. Operation: Turin (32 Lancasters, 11 Wellingtons, 32 Halifaxes, two Stirlings).
28/29 November Operation: Turin (117 Lancasters, 47 Stirlings, 45 Halifaxes, 19 Wellingtons). Flight Sergeant Rawdon Middleton (RAAF) awarded Victoria Cross for conduct on this operation.
29/30 November Operation: Turin (29 Stirlings, seven Lancasters).
2 December Air Ministry Signal: Harris ordered not to attack Venice or Florence without Air Ministry permission. Additional instruction tells HQ Bomber Command to continue ‘to interrupt war production’ in northern Italy by ‘operation of a few aircraft with expert crews’. Mussolini announces nightly evacuation of all civilians from northern industrial cities will commence.
3 December Prime Ministerial Directive: ‘the heat should be turned on Italy’.
8/9 December Operation: Turin (108 Lancasters, nine Halifaxes, nine Wellingtons, seven Stirlings).
11/12 December Operation: Turin (48 Halifaxes, 20 Lancasters, eight Stirlings, six Wellingtons).
1943
17 January Italy Directive: industrial cities of Milan, Turin and Genoa authorised as targets. La Spezia to be added if Swiss airspace not violated.
29 January La Spezia added to Italian target-list after HQ Bomber Command confirm attacks could be made without flying over Switzerland.
4 February Churchill attends victory parade in Tripoli; Axis forces withdraw to Mareth Line in southern Tunisia; Italy has lost Libya.
Casablanca Directive issued, determining the priorities for Anglo-American combined bomber offensive (CBO) against Germany. An ‘on demand’ objective are attacks on Italy ‘in connection with amphibious operations in the Mediterranean theatre’.
4/5 February Operations: Turin (77 Lancasters, 55 Halifaxes, 50 Stirlings, six Wellingtons), La Spezia (four Lancasters).
14/15 February Operations: Cologne, Milan (142 Lancasters), La Spezia (four Lancasters). DSO and Conspicuous Gallantry Medals awarded to one Lancaster crew.
17 February Air Ministry issues to HQ Bomber Command the Admiralty’s request for La Spezia to be attacked by large force or not at all.
20 February Air Ministry send letter to Harris further emphasising importance of attacks on La Spezia.
4 March Harris sends letter to the Permanent Under Secretary of State for Air, Sir Arthur Street, protesting that attacking La Spezia is ‘ill-advised and inconsistent with agreed policy as to the proper employment of our Bomber Force’.
5 March Strikes begin at Fiat Works in Turin against the Mussolini regime. They spread to other cities, such as Milan, and continue into April; British bombing considered partly to blame for the unrest.
5/6 March Harris begins battle of the Ruhr, and submits a letter protesting over many ‘diversions’ given to his Command, including La Spezia.
13/14 April Operation: La Spezia (208 Lancasters, three Halifaxes).
18/19 April Operation: La Spezia (173 Lancasters, five Halifaxes).
13 May General Giovanni Messe surrenders Axis forces in Tunisia; fighting in North Africa ends.
23/24 June Operation: La Spezia (52 Lancasters).
10 July Operation Husky – the Anglo-American invasion of Sicily – begins.
11 July Harris makes formal request to launch Operation Audax – the assassination of Mussolini by bombing his office and villa in Rome. 617 Squadron earmarked to conduct this 'surgical' strike.
12/13 July Operation: Turin (295 Lancasters).
15/16 July Operation: transformer stations at Arquata Scrivia, Reggio Emilia, Bologna, San Polo D’Enza (24 Lancasters).
16/17 July Operation: transformer stations at Cislago, Brugherio (18 Lancasters).
24/25 July Operation: Leghorn (Livorno) (33 Lancasters); Harris commences battle of Hamburg that night.
25 July In Rome, Fascist Grand Council deposes Mussolini.
26 July War Cabinet halts Bomber Command’s attacks to see whether Marshal Pietro Badoglio pulls Italy out of the war.
29 July Believing Badoglio intends to continue hostilities alongside Germany, the War Cabinet calls for simultaneous attack on Milan, Turin and Genoa on 30/31 July. It is added that operation is ‘subject to cancellation at short notice owing to possibility of rapid change in political situation’. 'Weather' supposedly stops this attack.
Air Marshal Sir Charles Portal, who was the first commanderin-chief of Bomber Command to launch operations against Italy. He would be promoted to Chief of the Air Staff (CAS) on 25 October 1940, but remained intimately connected to the operational and political aims behind bombing Italy right up the armistice on 3 September 1943. (Getty Images)
31 July–2 August Italian foreign minister Raffaele Guariglia secretly approaches British and American officials in Lisbon about armistice.
6 August Guariglia tells Ribbentrop and Keitel that no approach has been made to Allies.
7/8 August Operations: Genoa, Milan, Turin (197 Lancasters).
8 August Churchill informs Eden: ‘The war should be carried forward against Italy in every way that Americans will allow. We do not have to ask their permission about bombing the towns of Northern Italy, and Harris should be limited only by weather.’
12 August General Castellano sent to Lisbon to approach British and Americans.
12/13 August Operations: Milan (321 Lancasters, 183 Halifaxes), Turin (112 Stirlings, 34 Halifaxes, six Lancasters). Flt Sgt Arthur Aaron achieves VC on Turin operation.
14/15 August Operation: Milan (140 Lancasters).
15/16 August Operation: Milan (199 Lancasters).
16/17 August Operation: Turin (103 Stirlings, 37 Halifaxes, 14 Lancasters).
19 August Peace talks continue between Castellano and the Allies; Air Staff now instruct Harris ‘to lay off the Italian cities’. This order cancels a huge operation against Turin scheduled for that night.
3 September Castellano secretly signs armistice at Cassibile, Sicily. Badoglio, having agreed to it, tells Germans otherwise.
8 September Armistice announced publically. American and British forces commence landings at Salerno and Taranto. Germans activate Operation Achse to disarm Italian forces and seize Rome. Italy itself now becomes a battlefield.
ATTACKER’S CAPABILITIES
Short Stirling Mk I. In theory, this four-engined heavy bomber, first flown in August 1940, should have been the best longrange aircraft of Bomber Command early in the war. In practice, the type’s teething troubles kept it off operations until early 1941, after which the Italian commitment was halted temporarily. Its first trip to Italy was the 10/11 September 1941 operation to Turin. (Getty Images)
We had looked forward to seeing the snow-clad Alps in the full glory of a moonlit night but had been forced, instead, to fly through violent electrical storms which brought severe icing of airframe and engines … Not a few crews were forced to jettison the odd bomb in order to pull back the extra bit of altitude.
Norman Ashton, flight-engineer, 103 Squadron
Operations against Italy spanned Bomber Command’s development as a strategic bomber force. The periods of intense attacks – namely during autumn 1940, autumn 1942 and summer 1943 – saw Harris’ force considerably evolved from the time before. This was particularly the case with the type of aircraft used, which went from the two-engine bombers to the four-engine ‘heavies’, and also with technical devices to assist navigation and targetmarking. Italian operations also saw a range of techniques tried and tested, such as multiple aiming-points, a day/night attack on the same target, ‘shuttle’ raids, low-level strikes, area bombing and bombing of specific industrial sites. Bomber Command also experimented with adopting a flexible approach to target-marking that could be adjusted according to the conditions pertaining over the target (see Tactical Diagram on p.72), and also the first use of a ‘Master Bomber’ in a major raid on 12/13 August 1943.
The first bombers
Bomber Command’s first aircraft to bomb Italy were the Armstrong Whitworth Whitley, operated by 4 Group, and the Vickers Wellington of 3 Group. The Whitley first flew in March 1936, but its most numerous version would be the Mk V, powered by two Rolls-Royce Merlin X engines that helped increase its speed and bomb-carrying capacity
(7,000lb). With its crew of five, the Whitley was Bomber Command’s first heavy nightbomber, but would always be hamstrung by its short range. Bombing Italy early in the war meant it had to refuel at airfields in the Channel Islands or later, after the German capture of the islands, in eastern England. 58 Squadron navigator Flt Sgt John Mitchell recalled this ‘topping up’ was needed to climb the Alps going out and to complete the ten-hour operation facing fierce headwinds on the return. The aircraft equipped 10, 51, 58 and 78 Squadrons and carried out the first operation against Italy on 11/12 June 1940. It continued on Italian operations for the next five months, but early December 1940 saw 4 Group removed from the role of bombing Italy as high losses (on German targets) and a lack of replacements had caused a shortage of Whitleys.
Thereafter, the Italian role was undertaken by the Vickers Wellington. Having had an incredible lifespan that went from June 1936, when the ‘Wimpy’ first flew, to October 1945, 11,000 Wellingtons were produced. Possessing a unique inner construction similar to an airship’s lattice-style structure, it was made from aluminium that proved both light and strong, if labour-intensive to construct. Linen was used for the Wellington’s bodywork which, although prone to catching fire and burning away, allowed it to absorb tremendous battle damage, often returning to base with most of its inner structure fully exposed. Preferred to the Whitley and Handley-Page Hampden (nicknamed the ‘Flying Suitcase’ because of its cramped interior), the Wellington was powered by two Bristol Pegasus X/XVIII engines that gave a top speed of 235mph. The Whitley could carry more bombs, though less far (a full bombload meant an operating range of just 500 miles); in contrast, the Wellington could make the 1,500 round-trip to northern Italy with a useful three-quarter bombload of about 2,750lb.
Harris’ ‘unloved’ aircraft
The Short Stirling and Handley-Page Halifax were aircraft Harris never rated, and often criticised bitterly. Roy Jackson, serving on 7 Squadron, described the Stirling as looking like ‘a cross between a flying boat and an erection of scaffolding’. This was an unflattering description of the RAF’s first four-engined heavy bomber, which flew for the first time in May 1939 but did not enter operational service until February 1941 owing to teething troubles. But the Stirling would be remembered fondly by its crews for its in-flight manoeuvrability, decent top speed of 270mph (due to its powerful Bristol Hercules XVI engines) and roomy interior – a product of its generous dimensions. Equipping 12 squadrons in 3 Group, two of Bomber Command’s VCs would be won by Stirling pilots on operations to Italy. Yet the type had its vices too: its handling on the ground was very tricky, and a particular weakness was its over-complicated under-carriage mechanism that collapsed with frightening regularity. The under-carriage also meant the Stirling sat very
Bomber Command’s aircraft for the early attacks on Italy: the Armstrong Whitworth Whitley Mk V (left) and the Vickers Wellington Mk I (right). The Whitley carried a decent bombload but was hampered by a restricted range. In operations on Italy, 4 Group’s bombers had to call at airfields in the Channel Islands and, later, southern England to have their fuel tanks topped up, which only added another hazard to these long-distance sorties to Italy. The Whitley was pulled off Italian operations in December 1940 because of aircraft shortages owing to high losses on operations to Germany. The Wellington took over the task of bombing Italy in winter 1940/41. Rugged and reliable, the type was used in Italian operations from late 1940 to April 1942 but not the following year. By then its bombload was considered modest when compared to Bomber Command’s four-engined ‘heavies’. (Getty Images)
Air Marshal Sir Arthur Harris, C-in-C Bomber Command from 21 February 1942 to 15 September 1945. Though he disliked ‘diversions’ away from bombing Germany, Harris undertook Italian operations on numerous occasions. Bombing Italy stretched German air defences and was also a testing and training ground for Bomber Command’s new technical devices, target-marking techniques, navigational standards and novice crews in a less demanding environment. The bombing of Italy showed that Harris, despite a reputation for granite-like obstinacy, was a more cooperative commander than is often believed. This picture was taken on 10 July 1943; Harris sent his bombers to attack Turin two nights later. (Getty Images)
Air Vice-Marshal The Hon Ralph Cochrane was the AOC-in-C of 5 Group from 28 February 1943, having transferred from 3 Group. It was 5 Group that would bear the brunt of Italian operations during 1943, deploying squadrons –including the famous Dambusters – in low-level attacks on Italian transformer stations in July 1943. Cochrane would lead an internal investigation into the Group’s poor bombing accuracy and higher losses on the 12/13 July operation to Turin. (Getty Images)
high from the ground, which made it perilous for groundcrews to maintain, especially in icy weather, and its serviceability levels lowered considerably during intense periods of operations because of its tendency towards unreliability. It was also difficult to get airborne, having a horrible swing on take-off that could carry fatal consequences for the unwary.
3 Group’s AOC-in-C, Air Vice-Marshal The Hon Ralph Cochrane, also complained to Harris that its thirsty engines caused a chronic reduction in bombloads because of ‘the enormous quantity of petrol we must carry to raise the aircraft to its operational height, especially if it is down on performance’. Above all, its thick wings, which gave the Stirling its in-flight manoeuvrability, had the downside of limiting its ceiling to about 17,000ft (even the Whitleys and Wellingtons could get to 17,750ft and 18,000ft respectively) which at times made clearing the Alps a perilous proposition. But in late 1942 Stirling production had reached a crisis, which would stretch Harris and Cochrane’s already low levels of patience with the type very thin indeed. Cochrane told Harris that Short’s ‘product is lousy’ and that ‘these dud aircraft … can only stagger to 12,000 feet’. Manufacturing problems had led to a low right wing, and Cochrane wanted no more delivered ‘unless they were up to full operational standards in climb’. Harris therefore began 1943 with an Order of Battle that was weakening because ‘practically the whole operational value of 3 Group [has] collapse[d] under us owing to the scandalous Stirling developments’, which embraced a shortfall of 82 aircraft, ‘rogue’ examples, and often only ever 30 serviceable. Nonetheless, the Stirling regularly participated on Italian operations during late 1942, and would be sent on three of the summer 1943 raids, including Bomber Command’s last attack on Italy on 16/17 August.
The Handley-Page Halifax became operational in March 1941 with 35 Squadron, with the number of Halifax squadrons expanding to 12 by early 1942. Produced in several variants, operations to Italy would all be undertaken by the Mk II/V versions; and Harris rated neither. Notwithstanding a decent top speed of 282mph, it was the type’s range that remained awkward: an 8,000lb bombload could be carried, but only over 1,060 miles, which was insufficient for Italian operations. Therefore the weight of bombs carried had to be lowered considerably – to around 4,500lb – for the Halifax to operate against Italy. This limitation
meant the Halifax was used less on Italian targets during 1943 in favour of the Lancaster, as the improved Mk III version only appeared in November.
Carrying the burden
On 8 January 1943, Harris reviewed his bomber force. In so doing, he placed ‘on record’ his view that ‘the Stirling and Halifax are already obsolescent’. Italian operations had shown the weaknesses of these types in ceiling, range, fuel load and bomb-carrying capacity. The net result was the burden of bombing Italy largely fell on Harris’ best aircraft, namely the Avro Lancaster. Out of 13 attacks made on Italy during 1943, only five included the Halifax or Stirling squadrons. On one occasion, namely the ‘dual attack’ against Milan and Cologne on 14/15 February, Harris was forced to send the Lancasters to the ‘easier’ target in Italy whilst his weaker aircraft went to the ‘tougher’ target in Germany.
Designed by Roy Chadwick, the Lancaster first flew in January 1941 and entered service 12 months later with 44 (Rhodesia) Squadron. Powered by four Rolls-Royce Merlin XX engines, the type had a top speed of 287mph, a ceiling of 24,500ft and a range of 1,660 miles, which meant it could reach long-distance targets such as Milan and Genoa. With a maximum bombload of 14,000lb, its ever-versatile bomb bay could carry bombs of every shape and size (unlike the Stirling), all of which contributed to the Lancaster’s versatility.
Handley-Page Halifax
Mk II. This type was used frequently in operations against Italy during late 1942. But its restricted bombload meant Harris often had to use his best aircraft, namely the Lancaster, for the majority of Bomber Command’s operations to Italy during 1943. (Getty Images)
Avro Lancaster Mk I (left), Bomber Command’s foremost heavy bomber, which took the offensive to Germany and Italy during 1942. It was capable of carrying an impressive –and varied – bombload over a long distance to Italy, which included the 4,000lb ‘cookie’ or the 8,000lb ‘blast’ bomb (right). Lancasters of 1, 5 and 8 Groups would bear the brunt of Bomber Command’s later operations against Italy. (Getty Images)
The Lancaster’s bomb bay, packed with canisters of 30lb incendiary bombs (IBs) and a 4,000-pounder. From June 1940 to August 1943, Bomber Command dropped millions of incendiaries on Italy, yet these bombs were generally considered to have been less effective here than on German towns and cities owing to Italian construction. Buildings were often made of stone and had marble floors, cooling for the Italian summer heat, which was in stark contrast to the vast number of wooden structures found in the Altstadts (old towns) of many German centres. (Getty Images)
Against Italy, the bombload was reduced to accommodate a full fuel load, but it still carried a useful 8,000lb on these 1,500-mile round-trips.
The notable absentees were 2 Group’s dated Bristol Blenheim, the awful Avro Manchester, the uncomfortable Hampden, and the truly excellent De Havilland Mosquito, which were never used on Italian operations.
Technical devices
Assisting navigation to Italy were the three crucial devices of Gee, Oboe and H2S. First used against Essen on 8/9 March 1942, Gee saw three ground transmitters in England send pulses in a pre-set order, and the navigator would measure the time differences of their arrival to chart his aircraft’s distance on a special map. The system improved navigation, but was not perfect. The Earth’s curvature hampered the pulse transmissions, so Gee had a finite range of about 350 miles – fine for Ruhr targets but inadequate for Italian cities (though operational reports stated some navigators would receive signals up to 400–500 miles on Italian operations), and it was susceptible to jamming by the Germans. Oboe – so called because the pulses sounded like the musical instrument – was introduced in early 1943 and improved not only navigation but also bombing accuracy. Oboe used two ground-based noise transmitters, with the first station (Cat) maintaining the aircraft’s course as it flew along a predetermined track; should it deviate from this, then correction signals would be transmitted. The second station (Mouse) measured the aircraft’s range along the track and calculated when the bomb release-point had been reached, on which a different pulse was then emitted. This system could be very accurate, and it proved difficult for the Germans to jam. The downside was Oboe could only handle one bomber at a time, although not all were equipped to handle the system anyway.
By February 1943, Bomber Command therefore had two devices which facilitated better navigation and bombing, yet both were hampered by the problems of range and jamming. What was required was a system that broke the bomber’s dependence upon ground-based transmitting stations by having a device carried by the bomber itself. This came in the form of H2S, a ground-echoing radar that scanned the area beneath the aircraft and thereby constructed a picture of the terrain being flown over, such as water, countryside, mountains or an urban area. Consequently, an image formed on a special screen, which the navigator then cross-referenced with a map. Attacks on Italy benefitted considerably by use of H2S because it gave an excellent outline of major lakes that allowed PFF (Pathfinder Force) aircraft to drop route-markers over these geographical features to assist the navigation of the main force. The device was also used as a marking aid because it could construct an image of the target itself, which was especially useful if the city contained identifiable landmarks, such as major rivers, as Turin in fact did. H2S’ limitations of becoming more imprecise the further inland the bombers went, and its difficulty in distinguishing areas of very large cities, were therefore not encountered on Italian targets. Turin and Milan were simply not large enough to cause ‘image blinding’ on the H2S screen, unlike Berlin. The importance of H2S to help with bombing accuracy became all too clear. Bomber Command’s Operational Research Section (ORS) compiled statistics that highlighted the attacks on Italy in August 1943 which saw 85 per cent of bombs dropped within 3 miles of the aiming points; in contrast, the three attacks on Berlin during this month saw the figure drop to an underwhelming 30 per cent.
To evade or deceive the enemy, Bomber Command employed several countermeasures. Mandrel, which came as either an airborne or ground-based RCM (radio countermeasures), used noise to jam the frequencies of early-warning radars, particularly against the Luftwaffe’s Himmelbett night-fighter control stations which relied on the Freya, Mammut and Wassermann sets. First used in December 1942, Mandrel was used on Italian operations precisely because the Kammhuber Line (the German night air defence system) had been extended around the Paris region, which British aircraft had to traverse. Tinsel, also introduced at this time, comprised a microphone next to one of the engines, and the subsequent noise was then transmitted on the same R/T frequency used by German controllers to obscure the information broadcasts being passed to the night-fighters. Finally, there was Window. Comprising metal-foil strips, these were dropped in bundles by the bombers to overwhelm German radar screens, which became ‘fogged’ by the vast number of metalized objects. First used on 24/25 July 1943, Window would be employed against Italy in August 1943. Its ultimate impact on lowering bomber losses on Italian operations remains hard to determine, given Italy’s weaker air defences, but certainly it did seem overkill on Italy’s still primitive ground-radar defences.
Generally, it might be assumed that operations to Italy were trouble-free exercises for the aircrews of Bomber Command. Australian Don Charlwood, a navigator on 103 Squadron, noted how the announcement of ‘the target for tonight is Turin’ was greeted by squadron ‘old hands’ with the words ‘Whizzo’ and ‘Piece of cake!’. Yet such confidence, if not entirely misplaced, could not disguise the fact that bombers were still lost on Italian operations. Notwithstanding the generally weak Italian air defences, British aircraft succumbed to mechanical failures, to the Luftwaffe (based in France), or to sheer bad luck. Indeed, Charlwood remembered how one of only two aircraft lost on the Milan operation of 14/15 February 1943 was their own commanding officer, Sqn Ldr W. H. Powdrell, who was brought down by incendiary bombs dropped from another aircraft. ‘‘Easy’ targets,’ Charlwood wrote, ‘bred false optimism.’
This was a correct judgement, for bombing Italy had its perils. An Italian operation was certainly a long way indeed, with Turin, Milan and Genoa being round-trips of between 1,500 and 1,900 miles, comprising 8–10 hours’ duration. This was tough in a well-functioning bomber, but in a poorly performing aircraft it would be perilous. Many crews encountered technical problems because the long range and endurance, heavy fuel and bombloads, and
Mont Blanc and the ‘Alpine barrier’. This formidable geographical obstacle, which enclosed the Lombardy Plains and northern Italy, had to be crossed by Bomber Command’s aircraft en route to Italy. This was far from easy: bad weather or a poorly performing aircraft, not to mention the heavy bomb and fuel load, always made crossing the Alps a risky endeavour. (Getty Images)
Air Marshal Sir Richard Peirse, C-in-C Bomber Command from 5 October 1940 to 9 January 1942. Peirse launched operations against Italian targets during late 1940 and sporadically in 1941. He was dismissed from Bomber Command in early 1942 after pushing ahead with a Berlin operation on 7/8 November 1941 in bad weather, resulting in heavy losses. (Getty Images)
climbing over the Alps – often twice – all strained the bomber, especially its engines. Indeed, Italian operations were notable for a considerable number of abortive sorties, landing crashes, ditches in the sea and losses, owing to engine failures or fuel starvation. In the early years, there were a number of ideas proposed to conquer the problem of range, which included sending bomber detachments to Greece and Crete. Some Wellingtons from Bomber Command were sent to Malta, but besiegement by the Axis air forces made operating them from the island’s airfields increasingly undesirable. In mid-1943, Bomber Command tried the ‘shuttle’ method, which saw Lancasters bomb a long-distance target, land in North Africa, and attack Italy on their return, but this was tried on only two occasions. Instead, Bomber Command’s Italian operations were always conducted from Britain, but this brought an additional problem, namely the hours of darkness, which impacted on the time of year attacks on Italy could be conducted. As the Director of Bomber Operations, Air Commodore Sydney Bufton, wrote in July 1943, the ability to bomb Italy ‘is governed largely by the need for a night long enough to enable them to go there and back in darkness’, and only from 16 August was there sufficient darkness ‘to permit a limited but increasing scale of night attacks’ – the implicit message being a sustained campaign against Italy could only occur during the autumn and winter. Short hours of darkness meant British bombers returning over northern France in near daylight, as happened on 12/13 July 1943, which saw the Luftwaffe shoot down a number of Bomber Command aircraft. This issue explains why Harris could only give limited help during the period of Operation Husky
Added to these issues was the diplomatic problem of violating Swiss airspace. Fuel loads, bombloads and hours of darkness meant it was tempting for HQ Bomber Command to select a more direct route that went over neutral Switzerland. The Swiss government’s first protest was communicated by Eden to the War Cabinet on 3 October 1940, though the matter on this occasion had been discussed with the Swiss Ambassador in ‘good humour’. The general policy at this time was that although Swiss airspace violations were politically undesirable and should ‘be avoided’, bomber captains should remember ‘their primary aim is to reach their objective’; if this involved flying over Switzerland, then so be it. However, by late 1941 the Foreign Office received stronger protests from the Swiss that had to be
considered because ‘maintaining diplomatic relations with Switzerland’, especially given ‘its value as a centre of Intelligence’ within German-occupied Europe, had become vital. Yet avoiding Switzerland impacted on Bomber Command’s target choices in Italy. As Air Vice-Marshal Norman Bottomley told Air Vice-Marshal Richard Peirse, C-in-C of Bomber Command, whilst bombing Genoa could still be undertaken avoiding Swiss airspace, it was ‘a much more difficult matter’ on cities in north-east Italy. In fact this consideration, alongside others, would rule out operations against Verona, Venice, Florence and Bologna. Yet transgressions continued, and the Swiss response became more strident, perhaps as a consequence of German pressure. Therefore, Bomber Command’s later operations to Italy saw aircraft routed through south-eastern France so as to avoid western Switzerland. But this impacted on range, fuel loads and bombloads, and probably accounts for why only the Lancaster tended to be used on operations to Italy in 1943.
Of course, whichever route was adopted the final challenge was the crossing of the Alps. Containing a number of peaks over 12,000ft, this extensive mountain range had to be traversed because it curved around to ‘shut in’ the top of Italy. Successfully negotiating these mountains was a perilous undertaking, however. Mitchell recalled that getting a Whitley over Mont Blanc meant high petrol usage to attain the requisite altitude, which might be needed later should a strong headwind be encountered on the return; indeed, as happened to Mitchell himself, aircraft often faced fuel starvation that led to the unappealing prospect of ditching in the Channel.1 As most crews brought their aircraft below 12,000ft to bomb an Italian target, they all faced the need to climb over the Alps again, with all the consequent strain on fuel consumption (though aircraft were considerably lighter from carrying no bombload). This was bad news for those bombers that had been damaged by Italian night-fighters or flak. Aircraft struggling to clear the peaks then faced the dicey prospect of having to fly through the valleys and around the peaks. Sgt John Gilvary, a bomb aimer on 419 (RCAF) Squadron, wrote: ‘Did not like the Alps one bit. Grim and foreboding, one poor devil hit them with a full bombload aboard. Not much left of him.’2 The Alps were certainly no place to have any kind of mechanical drama. Charlwood recorded how another crew had the terrifying experience of the auto-pilot system throwing their aircraft into a vicious dive over the peaks before the bomber climbed upwards on its tail. On their next Italian operation the same crew suffered multiple engine failures that forced them to ‘to skirt the higher peaks at an airspeed of 140 mph’. It was little surprise the Alpine ‘barrier’ more often forced crews of underperforming aircraft to abort. If mechanical trouble was encountered over Italy, the Alps would be difficult – if not impossible – to fly over on the return. With emergency landing grounds in North Africa not being available before November 1942 and Malta’s airfields overcrowded and still subject to Axis air attacks, there were few places to go, except ditching in the sea somewhere near Gibraltar.
Given the risks, HQ Bomber Command always consulted the forecast for conditions over the Alps; cloud in the valleys posed little concern, but covered peaks were highly dangerous. Alpine weather jeopardised the very first attack on Italy, in which thunderstorms and icing strained ropey engines, forcing many to abort. 10 Squadron pilot Sqn Ldr Pat Hanafan recalled vividly the moment of flying into black cumulus clouds:
Suddenly there was a great flash which ripped through the Whitley. It blew the rear gunner backwards out of his turret into the fuselage with the left side of his body paralysed. It burned the wireless operator’s hands, cut both engines, and put the aircraft into a vertical dive, laden with ice.
1 Quoted from Fly Past, January 2012, p.47.
2 Quoted from K. Wilson, Bomber Boys, Weidenfeld & Nicolson (2006 ed.), pp.294–96.
Secretary of State for Air
Sir Archibald Sinclair, a Liberal MP, was a firm supporter of bombing Italy, including launching attacks on Rome by Bomber Command. Moreover, he wanted these to be made on the central area, around the Palazzo Venezia, where Mussolini and the Fascist government were located, and not against transportation targets on the city’s outskirts. (Getty Images)
Hanafan regained control, but a marginal fuel load prevented any further attempt to cross the Alps so the shaken crew turned for home.3 Yet at other times the weather was picture perfect, and allowed crews to marvel at the spectacular Alpine scenery.
Preparing a bomber for an Italian operation would be a balancing act between the weights of the fuel and bombloads. Consequently, Harris favoured the Lancaster for operations to Italy because it could take 8,000lb compared to the Halifax’s 5,750lb, the Stirling’s 3,500lb and the Wellington’s 2,750lb. But he still had to use the weaker aircraft, and often the Stirling’s smaller bombload was assigned to be dropped on a specific industrial target, such as Fiat’s factory at Lingotto. In contrast, the Lancaster was usually reserved for bombing Italian urban areas, whose destruction required a greater number of HE bombs that only that bomber could carry. The Ministry of Home Security’s RE8 department and the Air Ministry’s Directorate of Bomber Operations had concluded Italy’s cities were much less ‘burnable’ than those in Germany, owing to Italian construction methods that saw marble used for flooring and thick walls made from solid stone. Designed as modern tenement buildings, with wide courtyards, and located on broad, open streets, these residential properties often had no attics, used concrete and tile instead of wood and steel, and had extensive fire-resistant floor covering. This made them ‘hard’ constructions that often caused British incendiary bombs to break up on impact, as opposed to becoming embedded in the ‘softer’ wooden constructions of a densely packed Altstadt (old town).
Bombs were not the only weapons dropped on Italy by Bomber Command. There was also the ‘weapon of words’ in the form of the Political Warfare Executive’s (PWE) propaganda leaflets, which aimed to solidify civilian opposition to Mussolini, Germany and the war. A colossal 35½ million ‘PWE letters’ would be dropped on Italy by both Bomber Command and British and American bombers based in the Mediterranean. The effect of leaflets should not be underestimated in helping Mussolini’s overthrow and causing Italy’s surrender, for the messages deliberately targeted a society whose morale was plummeting.
The chain of command
At HQ Bomber Command in High Wycombe, Air Chief Marshal Sir Arthur Harris made his decisions on operations to Italy (and Germany). Single-minded, determined and opinionated, Harris argued vehemently against ‘diversions’ away from bombing Germany. Yet he would comply with official Directives far more than is commonly supposed, and Italy proved no exception. In so doing, Harris obeyed orders received from the Air Ministry, headed by Chief of the Air Staff (CAS), Marshal of the Royal Air Force Sir Charles Portal, and Assistant Chief of the Air Staff (ACAS(Ops)) Air Vice-Marshal Norman Bottomley. Yet the critical decision-makers in Bomber Command’s campaign against Italy were not the high-ranking airmen, but senior members of the British government because the religious, cultural and artistic importance of Italy’s cities meant close control of the bombing was deemed as being essential. For during 1942–43, attacks on Italy became a subject of debate and correspondence from concerned parliamentarians, such as Hugh Molson MP, which often saw Sir Archibald Sinclair, the Secretary of State for Air, having to defend the government’s bombing policy. Moreover, Britain’s civilian leadership could exercise influence over attacks on Italy because Harris was subject to the authority of no commander in the Mediterranean. Before the Casablanca Directive, requests and/or demands to bomb Italy were issued to HQ Bomber Command by the Air Ministry, but these were sanctioned by the Prime Minister and War Cabinet. Civilian control over the bombing of Italy was especially seen in summer 1943, when the War Cabinet ordered Bomber Command to cease its attacks on 26 July but ordered their resumption three days later.
3 Quoted from M. Hastings, Bomber Command, Pan (2007 ed.), pp.86–87.
DEFENDER’S CAPABILITIES
Fougier describes our aircraft production in dark colours. Between us and Germany we produce less than one fifth or sixth of what the Allies produce. The enlistment of pilots is also short and falling off. During the summer of 1943 the Allies will definitely have control of the skies.
Ciano Diary, entry for 22 September 1942
In March 1923, the Regia Aeronautica was founded as an independent service under the direction of its own ministry (Ministero dell’Aeronautica). The inter-war years saw the aircraft become a symbol of modernity and technical prowess for the Fascist regime, with the pilot an embodiment of a ‘new’ masculine identity that was wrapped up in heroism, élan and a need for reckless endeavour, often at high speed. Meanwhile, in the spirit of the age, the Duce himself obtained a pilot licence. Aircraft and Fascism therefore had a symbiotic relationship, each reinforcing the other, and lauded by the regime’s propaganda. Yet in so doing, the regime only promoted airpower for its glamour, dash and swagger, and above all offensive capabilities, which meant any kind of consideration, let alone preparation, about air defence went completely overlooked.
Financial lavishness on the Regia Aeronautica increased during the 1930s, particularly as Italy became embroiled in conflicts in Ethiopia, Spain and Albania. Yet the air force was always behind the army and navy when it came to budgets, and despite being ‘air-minded’, Mussolini’s ambitions in the Mediterranean demanded a large navy (to challenge the British) and a substantial army (for territorial conquest). Critically, the performance of Italian aircraft in the Spanish Civil War led the regime to believe its aircraft were unbeatable, and a consequent inertia came to aircraft development which saw Italy make only a late transition to the monoplane. Military involvement bred anachronisms, not technical development. This outlook, together with Fiat-Ansaldo’s near-monopoly on Italian arms production, meant
The Fiat CR.42 Falco. Antiquated in appearance, the type was nonetheless manoeuvrable and versatile, and included the development of a nightfighter version (CN) that was painted in an all-black colour with some time instrument illumination for night-time flying. Flying an open cockpit aircraft at altitude during winter nights tested the endurance of many Italian pilots. Such limitations were recognised by Fougier, who as late as 15 June 1943 wrote that night-fighters were ‘still at a stage of formation; the absence of visibility at night was only compensated for by a few electronic instruments of limited capacity’. In contrast, Bomber Command had been consistently innovating with new navigational aids, tactics and bombing techniques to be a more effective night-bombing force. (Getty Images)
Mussolini at Caselle airport, Turin, in May 1939. Turin was an important centre of Italian aircraft and aero-engine production in the Fiat Works and Alfa Romeo factories. Note the antiquated aircraft in the background. These biplanes – probably Fiat CR.42s – formed a significant part of the Regia Aeronautica’s fighter strength. Nightfighter versions (CN –Caccia Notturna) would be in service by 1942. These would often be seen by bomber crews, but their record of attacking British aircraft was mixed. (Getty Images)
continued production of outdated designs, such as the Fiat CR.42, which with its open cockpit and biplane wings was a design that reflected an obsession with ‘derring-do’ aerobatics and individual élan. This antiquated aircraft, of which 1,782 were constructed, continued to use up Italy’s already limited aircraft production capacity at the expense of building more modern designs and specialist aircraft, such as night-fighters. The Regia Aeronautica, which had some 3,000 aircraft upon the outbreak of war, was much less impressive once Fiat’s biplanes4 had been subtracted from the inventory.
Regia Aeronautica: command structure, organisation and aircraft
Inheriting this mess was General Francesco Pricolo, who was Chief of the Air Staff from 1939 to 1941. In that time, however, Pricolo did little to improve air defences because he simply believed Italy remained protected by the Alps. Moreover, like many others in the Italian High Command, Pricolo held the view that the Germans would be victorious anyway, and measures to counter the bombing of Italian cities were simply not needed. Yet when it became clear this was deeply erroneous, there were precious little lire left to spend on Italy’s air defences, and it was left to Pricolo’s successor, General Rino Fougier (1941–43), to rue the mistake. Ultimately, the best Fougier could do was to transfer responsibility for air defence to the Fascist Militia, which had no understanding of aerial warfare at all, and ask the Luftwaffe for assistance, which arrived too late. Consequently, in July 1943 General Renato Sandalli inherited an air force that was only just starting to use ground-control systems encompassing radars received from the Germans, but this air defence network was far from complete. It was all too little, too late. Moreover, just as the Italians were coming to terms with this new technology, Bomber Command had upped the ante by using its Window counter-measure on Italian operations. In terms of organisation, the Regia Aeronautica was divided into covering four areas of mainland Italy. The critical zone of defence against Bomber Command’s attacks was Squadra Aerea 1 (SQA1), headquartered in Milan, and charged with covering northwest Italy. The next important area was SQA2 (HQ in Padua), which was responsible for defending north-eastern Italy. The remaining two areas, namely SQA3 and SQA4, never faced Harris’ force because they lay too far south. Below the area groups, Italian Air Force units were formed into a Stormo comprising three Gruppi that were sub-divided into two or three Squadriglie. Notwithstanding this structure, the Italians for most of the war used small sections of enthusiastic pilots attached to regular units for the night-fighting role, and recognisable night-fighter squadrons only appeared from 1942 onwards. These squadrons, not surprisingly, had been moved northwards to SQA1’s airfields by August 1943: 2 Gruppo (152 and 358 Squadriglie) to Genoa-Sampierdarena (in the western outskirts of Genoa itself); 59 Gruppo (232 and 233 Squadriglie) to Lagnasco (about 30 miles south of Turin); and 60 Gruppo (234 and 235 Squadriglie) to Venegono (7 miles south-east of Varese). An ad hoc collection of six CR.42CNs were also divided between the airfields of Torino-Caselle (some 8 miles north of the city) and GenoaSampierdarena. These airbases, located close to major cities, were permanent aerodromes often containing paved runways, proper fuel/water storage, and accommodation facilities. A handful of CR.42 night-fighters were based at
4 This also included the CR.42’s predecessor, the CR.32.
SQA2’s airfields at Bologna and Verona, and 167 Gruppo (300 and 303 Squadriglie) was also based at the SQA3 airfield of Ciampino Sud (near Rome), though this battled against American and British bombers based in North Africa, not Bomber Command.
In terms of equipment, the Regia Aeronautica possessed a number of single-engined fighters. At the top end lay aircraft produced by the Macchi and Reggiane companies. The former produced three types of monoplane: the MC.200, powered by a radial engine and obsolete by 1942; the very good MC.202, which presented a real challenge to British fighters over Malta; and the highly impressive but scarce MC.205. Reggiane produced the Re.2000 and Re.2001, which were decent fighter aircraft. At the bottom lay the aircraft made and powered by Fiat, namely the CR.32 and CR.42 biplanes, and the G.50 monoplane, which were either obsolete or very poor performers. Italy’s fighters improved considerably once the Daimler-Benz DB-601 powerplant (which powered the Messerschmitt Bf 109) had been installed. This reflected badly on Italy’s aero-engine manufacturers – Fiat, Alfa Romeo, Isotta Fraschini and Piaggio – who all struggled to design a high-performance product (high-octane fuels, once they arrived, tended to cause Italian-made powerplants to internally combust spectacularly). The saving grace came in 1941 when Alfa Romeo commenced licence-production of the DB-601 (designated the R.A. 1000/RC.43 I by the Italians), and this transformed the fighters produced by Macchi and Reggiane. In total, Italy produced 10,345 aircraft during the war, of which 4,310 were fighters.
Yet critically, this production figure contained no purpose-built night-fighters, despite the importance of such an aircraft having been recognised by some air force officers and engineers as early as 1939. Instead the Italians made ad hoc modifications to its existing products, and the two aircraft chosen for a night-fighter version were the Fiat CR.42 and the Reggiane Re.2001. The selection of the former was perhaps no surprise, given the company’s powerful hold over Italian arms production that made its production line continue to churn out anachronistic products. The CR.42 was adopted for night-fighting, designated the CR.42CN (Caccia Notturna), because it was outclassed for its daytime role, yet the type’s production continued unabated. In the end, Fiat produced 44 night-fighter versions, which had illuminated instruments, an artificial horizon, a radio, flame dampers over the exhausts, a searchlight under the lower wing, and a matt-black finish (usually). CR.42CNs were initially formed into a special night-fighting unit (171 Gruppo) in October 1941, but incredibly this was soon disbanded, with its aircraft and crews simply distributed to ad hoc night-fighting groups (sez intecettori) based around Turin, Genoa, Bologna and Verona. CR.42CNs were often seen by British bomber crews but they rarely engaged, which was perhaps understandable given the limitations of this antiquated biplane.
As for the Re.2001, manufactured by the Reggiane aircraft company in Reggio Emilia, it was powered by the DB-601 engine which gave a top speed of 355mph at 18,000ft. Its ceiling was nearly twice that height, and coupled with a 940-mile range, the Re.2001CN presented the Italians with a golden opportunity for possessing an excellent single-engine night-fighter. But the number of Re.2001CNs produced was too insignificant to have any bearing on Bomber Command’s operations to northern Italy. Those that were made suffered the continual problem of most Italian single-engine fighters, namely being lightly armed with small-calibre machine guns – a far cry from the firepower of a Bf 109. The Re.2001CN was equipped with just two Breda 12.7mm (.5in) and two Breda 7.7mm (.303in) machine guns; the CR.42CN had even less, with either one of the latter or two of the former. In contrast, the Regia Aeronautica’s other single-engine night-fighter, the French-made Dewoitine D.520 (47 having been purchased from the Vichy government), packed a significant punch from its four 7.5mm MAC.34 Type M39 machine guns and one 20mm Hispano-Suiza HS.404 cannon (although it was seldom encountered by British aircrews).
The harsh fact was these single-engine aircraft were interceptors that were less ideal for the night-fighting role because they lacked the space (and engine power) to accommodate
Italy paid a high price for not developing a purposebuilt night-fighter. The Italian Air Force received a handful of twin-engined German aircraft, one of which was the Messerschmitt Bf 110 C-3 pictured here. These came in small quantities and were worn-out secondhand examples, with few of the technical aids that helped the Luftwaffe fight Bomber Command in the skies over Germany. (Getty Images)
the weight and size of special equipment, such as airborne radars and a second crewman to operate such devices. A purpose-built twin-engine night-fighter was needed, but no Italian aircraft company was constructing such a type. The nearest thing was the less-than-ideal Breda 88, which, although a ground-attack aircraft, British bomber crews did occasionally remark on seeing. The Regia Aeronautica’s Battle Order for 27 August 1943 shows 25 twin-engine night-fighters in service, all stationed north of a line from Leghorn (Livorno) to Ancona. Most of these were a consequence of the Italians having approached the Germans during winter 1942/43 for assistance with all aspects of their air defences, which included suitable twin-engine night-fighters (alongside requests for flak guns, searchlights and ground radars). The Italian Air Force duly received the Me 110 C-3 and the Do 217 J-1 and J-2 in very small quantities, a total of 18 of all types.5 It was a paltry sum with which to confront Bomber Command, although these aircraft were seen by British aircrews from time to time. Moreover, these German aircraft were ‘cast-offs’, stripped of their electronic equipment, and indeed it seemed only one J-2 was equipped with the FuG 202 Lichtenstein airborne radar, serving with 233 Squadriglia (59 Gruppo) based at Venegono. Their basic lack of ground-control communications meant interceptions remained rare, but, in any case, Italy’s mountainous terrain caused problems with radio transmissions, thus hampering communications with ground-control. Modest numbers of Italian pilots were trained in Germany, the first leaving the night-fighter training school at Schleissheim in August 1942 and learning to fly the Do 217 at Venlo (in Holland), but this training was irrelevant because Germany’s sophisticated air-defence network was very different to the primitive one found in Italy by July 1943.
In many ways, such a situation was partly down to Italian radar capabilities being slow to develop – despite the initial promise of experiments at the Guidonia radar research facility. Instead of developing air defence based on radar (like Britain’s Home Chain system), Italy entered the war with very primitive means of detecting an enemy’s bombers through acoustic listening devices or simple ground observers. Such a situation was the inevitable result of a military that had been earmarked for conquest, not home defence. Only in autumn 1942 did the Italians recognise a need for a better air-defence system following Bomber Command’s major attacks, and they made a panicked appeal to Berlin for assistance. A total of 15 Freya and Würzburg radars were supplied, the former being useful for detection at distance whilst the latter ascertained an aircraft’s altitude and position. But the number sent were too few, as most produced went to the Reich’s own air defences. Moreover, what equipment the Germans did provide – namely radars, flak guns and searchlights – largely went to southern Italy to
5 Seven Do 217 J-1s, eight Do 217 J-2s and three Bf 110 C-3s.
defend the Luftwaffe’s air bases in Sicily and Calabria. By summer 1943, the Italians’ new air defence organisation, the Anti-aircraft Territorial Defence Command (Difesa Contraerea Territoriale, or DiCaT), wanted to implement a system akin to the Kammhuber Line, but it remained largely a hollow shell. Italian maps contained within the excellent Italian Air Force document series (held at the IWM) reveal this was being installed by July, but it was all very tentative, and this GCI (ground-controlled interception) system was soon invalidated by Window anyway. Consequently, there never was a cohesive air-defence network, in which radar sites detected enemy formations and fed accurate information to controllers who passed this on to night-fighter squadrons and flak units to assist interception. Italian night-fighters simply had to ‘strike it lucky’ to encounter a British bomber, searching blind, with hardly any air-to-ground radio communications.
As a result of this lack of specialist night-fighter equipment, tactics remained undeveloped and Italian pilots remained timid in battle. They often tended to approach a bomber from high up, making just one pass, and did not seem to embrace the attacking method of their German counterparts, namely the von unten hinten (below and behind). Moreover, the basics for this specialist role were lacking. The Night-fighter Training Establishment (Nucleo Addestramento Intercettori) at Treviso trained pilots in the difficult arts of night-flying, such as working from instruments and blind navigation, but this was always sub-standard, largely due to the lack of money and fuel to maintain adequate training programmes. By October 1942, Italy’s night-fighters had flown just 380 operational hours,6 and this statistic revealed the gulf in battle experience between the two air forces once Bomber Command’s major attacks against Italy finally commenced.
Comparison of losses by Group against Berlin and northern Italian targets, August 1943 Group Aircraft type Berlin N. Italy (Milan, Turin, Genoa)
In battle, although bomber crews quite often reported seeing Italian aircraft, very few intercepted a British bomber, let alone shot one down. The determination of Giulio Carestiato, Macchi’s test-pilot, who in a darkening sky single-handedly took on Bomber Command’s aircraft during the daylight raid on Milan in October 1942 – damaging a Lancaster, running out of ammunition, returning to base, refuelling and rearming, and taking off again to resume combat – or the Do 217 crew on 16/17 July 1943 that shot down one Lancaster and damaged another, proved rare exceptions. The lack of reliable radio wavelengths for communication and a ground-control organisation meant Italian nightfighter pilots were always hindered by considerable difficulties.
6 Quoted from R. Overy, The Bombing War: Europe 1939–1945, Allen Lane (2013), pp.514–16.
An Italian heavy flak gun, the Cannone 90/53. The gun could be mounted on a Lancia-made lorry chassis and serve as an anti-tank weapon, like the Germans’ formidable 88s. Italy’s flak defences would be strengthened by the acquisition of this infamous German weapon during winter 1942/43. (Bundesarchiv, Bild 101I-480-2246-06A)
The unsatisfactory air-defence situation meant the Italians proceeded with the only course quickly available: ask the Germans to do it. The Luftwaffe did arrive, but far too late. The Germans formed a Kammhuber Line system across northern Italy comprising 33 ‘boxes’ by summer 1943, and had moved night-fighter units there to utilise the system. As Mussolini’s regime tottered, Nachtjagdgeschwader 2 (NJG2), the Luftwaffe’s main night-fighter unit in the Mediterranean since November 1941, was redeployed there, although its crews were soon sent to Holland to counter Harris’ intensifying attacks on Germany. The Italians also had the Luftwaffe defending the approaches to Italy from the north-west, namely from across France. Here, aircraft from NJG4 intercepted British bombers and would inflict a steady stream of casualties on Bomber Command. The Paris area comprised the westernmost part of the Kammhuber Line, which defended Germany itself, and going to Italy meant passing through this network. Bomber Command’s Italian operations did incur losses, but these were mostly over northern and central France, not Italy. The Luftwaffe’s AA guns in France also meant there were some flak ‘hot spots’. The Paris area was best avoided, defended by batteries that included 26 heavy guns, five medium guns and 18 light guns, and it was considered wise to avoid flying near Avignon and Toulon. But by far the worst place was the Pas de Calais, which aircrews always remarked on as being ‘very active’, owing to its 34 heavy flak batteries and 26 medium/light gun batteries, which would bring down a number of British bombers.
Flak, searchlight and radar defences
The defence of Italian cities also comprised flak defences and searchlights, and the situation here was no less unimpressive. As Baldoli noted, Italy’s air commanders had themselves told Mussolini and Ciano before the war that Italy’s air defences were made up of ‘wretched weapons’. Bomber Command’s first attack on Italy on 11/12 June 1940 had seen the weak air defences in Turin become all too apparent, and a trend among Italians of doubting whether the regime could protect them from aerial attack soon took hold.
Italy’s Air Defences (Difesa Contraerea, or Dea) were always short of decent flak guns. Right from the beginning, Mussolini made several appeals to Hitler for AA artillery, which included an offer on 10 June 1940 of an Italian armoured division in exchange for 50 guns, but this was rejected. Instead, Italy had to fall back on its domestically produced weapons, which were hardly sufficient. Starved of funds, the Italian air-defence system, such as it was, initially relied on weapons of World War I vintage, namely the 76mm flak gun (from 1916) and the French-made St Étienne M1907 machine gun, both of which struggled to hit anything flying above a moderate altitude. The lack of money during the 1930s meant updates to the flak system had been minimal, and at worst neglectful, as a substantial number of AA batteries fell into disrepair. Italy was simply fortunate that Bomber Command could not attack its cities in strength at this time, and when in autumn 1942 Harris did so, the flak situation had somewhat improved for two reasons. First, the Italians were deploying the Ansaldo-produced 90/53mm heavy flak gun, which, Baldoli comments, ‘was generally regarded during the war as one of the finest anti-aircraft weapons’. Yet even then, confused production priorities saw well under half of the 1,700 ordered guns produced because the Italians continued to make the 1916 model, a chronic misuse of labour, resources and what little money was available for flak defences. The position was perhaps marginally better with regards to light flak, with Breda producing in considerable quantity the 20mm gun. The firm had received the order as early as 1936 owing to the regime’s edict that critical factories needed to be defended, and consequently bomber crews did experience fire from this light gun
– often described as being ‘hosepiped’ – from the rooftops of industrial sites in Turin and Milan, including the Breda Works itself. The weapon could be effective because British aircraft often bombed factory targets well below 7,000ft.
With slow production of the 90/53 gun, yet his northern cities now experiencing heavy attack, Mussolini begged Hitler for assistance on 19 November 1942. In December Hitler agreed – largely for political reasons – to despatch heavy flak guns to his ally, and 100 batteries of the ferocious 88s and 30 searchlight batteries were transferred. German gunners manned these weapons, but could often be reckless. During the raid on Milan on 14/15 February 1943, they fired on four Italian nightfighters, causing the Regia Aeronautica’s pilots to cease their interceptions. Italian protests were simply waved away. Harmony and cooperation between allies this was not, and the issue of ‘(un)friendly fire incidents’ was never really resolved. In spring 1943, Hitler decided to transfer most of the flak guns and searchlights back to the Reich; after all the Ruhr needed defending urgently.
Nonetheless, British airmen did detect that Italy’s flak defences had been strengthened by early 1943. Charlwood recalled how the squadron’s intelligence officer described Turin’s air defences to be as severe as Düsseldorf’s. In terms of numbers, a British report compiled after the 12/13 July operation found that most crews believed there were 30–40 heavy guns and 20–30 light guns situated in and around Turin, with 40–50 searchlights ringing the city.
Estimated flak and searchlight defences of Italian targets, October 1942–August 19431
Target No. heavy flak guns
Turin
Genoa 15–20
La Spezia
No. light flak guns
No. of S/Ls
1 Based on reported observations by British aircrews and analysis by the RAF’s CIU
Turin was in many ways the industrial target of Italy and became quite heavily defended, yet its flak was always described by bomber crews as inaccurate. For Italian AA defences remained hamstrung by a lack of the necessary support equipment, such as an observer corps and ground radars, placed in a coordinated system of air defence. Especially critical were the lack of radar-directed flak predictors that meant fire remained restricted to ‘barrage form’. One 83 Squadron pilot, Flt Lt Walter Thompson, noted that Milan’s flak on 14/15 August ‘seemed ferocious as we approached the city but they could not have been guided by radar, or if they were, it was by a radar not as good as the Würzburg, for it was soon apparent that the searchlights remained almost stationary and the flak was fired at random; together they amounted to no defence at all’.
Generally, this can be an appropriate description of Italy’s air defences during World War II. Such a performance, Baldoli writes, reflected ‘many of the failures of the Fascist regime itself’, which, in the first instance, centred on not taking air defence seriously and chronically under-funding all aspects of its development later on. This was compounded by chronic inter-service rivalry, with Regio Esercito and Fascist Militia controlling the flak guns, the navy retaining responsibility for defending its bases, and the Regia Aeronautica for Italy’s fighter defence. Italian civilians would pay a high price for this unsatisfactory situation, as they had long feared.
Damage to a famous landmark of Milan, namely the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II. Though damaged, the destruction was in no way comparable to that seen in German cities. This can be attributed, as seen here, to the sturdy stone construction of many Italian structures. (Getty Images)
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wild fawn
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Title: The wild fawn
Author: Mary Imlay Taylor
Release date: February 7, 2024 [eBook #72891]
Language: English
Original publication: United States: Moffat, Yard and Company, 1920
Credits: D A Alexander, David E. Brown, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive) *** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WILD FAWN ***
THE WILD FAWN
BOOKS BY MARY IMLAY TAYLOR
A CANDLE IN THE WIND THE IMPERSONATOR THE REAPING CALEB TRENCH
THE MAN IN THE STREET
THE WILD FAWN
BY
MARY IMLAY TAYLOR
AUTHOR OF “A CANDLE IN THE WIND,” “THE IMPERSONATOR,” “THE REAPING,” “CALEB TRENCH,” “THE MAN IN THE STREET”
NEW YORK MOFFAT, YARD AND COMPANY
1920
C , 1920, MOFFAT, YARD AND COMPANY
Printed in the United States of America
THE WILD FAWN
THE WILD FAWN
IM . C looked up from her breakfast and glanced anxiously at the clock.
“I wonder where that postman can be!” she exclaimed fretfully. “He’s always late nowadays.”
“Nonsense!” retorted her husband, unfolding his newspaper. “It’s because you want a letter from William. The postman will be along all right.”
Mrs. Carter sighed. She could not understand the gap in her son’s correspondence. William was her eldest and the pride of her heart. At twenty-seven he had been a success in business. He had dominated the family, advising his stout, deliberate father, overwhelming his lame brother Daniel, and bossing the two younger children, Leigh and Emily, until, goaded to frenzy, first one and then the other of the worms turned. As the only girl in the family, Emily reached the limit of her endurance long before Leigh came into the battle as a feeble second.
But not even Emily could stem the tide of Mrs. Carter’s devotion to her first-born. It had cost her many a sleepless night when, more than a year ago, William Henry Carter had been selected by a wellknown mercantile firm to go to Japan. It had been a crowning opportunity for William; to his mother it was a source of mingled pride and anguish. She packed his trunk with unnumbered socks and collar-buttons—she was sure he couldn’t get them in Japan— and she smuggled in some jars of strawberry jam, “the kind that dear Willie always loved.”
Afterward her only solace had been his letters. She overlooked his ungrateful wrath when the jam jars broke into the socks, and fell
back on her pride in his continuing success, and on the fact that he had been permitted to come home via the Mediterranean, and was to act for his firm in Paris.
Now, after an absence of fourteen months, he might be home at any moment; but there had been a gap in the correspondence—no letters for more than two months. The maternal anxiety would have communicated itself to the family, if it had not been that William’s company had heard from the young man in the interim, and could assure the anxious Mr. Carter that his son was well and doing business with eminent talent and success. Mr. Payson, the head of the establishment, lived in town, and he was liberal in his praise.
Mrs. Carter’s mind dwelt upon this with a feeling of maternal pride, still tempered with anxiety, when she became aware that Emily and Leigh were quarreling openly because of the latter’s unfeeling remark that a girl with a snub nose and freckles should never do her hair in a Greek knot.
“It’s enough to make a cat laugh,” said Leigh. “What have you got to balance that knob on the back of your head?”
“Leigh, dear, don’t plague sister so,” Mrs. Carter remonstrated mildly.
“As if a boy like Leigh knew anything about a girl’s hair!” cried Emily indignantly. “It’s a psyche-knot.”
Leigh laughed derisively; but at this moment, when the quarrel had become noisy enough to disturb Mr. Carter, it was interrupted by the entrance of the morning mail. Miranda, the colored maid of all work, appeared with a replenished coffee-pot and a letter for Mrs. Carter.
The anxious mother gave a cry of joy.
“My goodness—it’s from Willie!”
The interest became general, and five pairs of expectant eyes focussed on Mrs. Carter as she opened the envelope, her fingers shaking with eagerness. Miranda, to whom the fifth pair of eyes belonged, became unusually attentive to Daniel, and insisted on replenishing his coffee-cup.
“This was written in Paris,” Mrs. Carter exclaimed eagerly, “and—and posted in New York! I wonder! ‘Dear mother,’” she began reading aloud, her voice tremulous with joy, “‘I’m coming home on the Britannic, and I’m bringing you the—the——’”
She stopped short, her mouth open like a fish’s, and a look of horror glazing the rapture in her eyes.
There was a profound and expectant pause. Daniel, the least interested member of the group, managed to drink his hot coffee with apparent relish, and sixteen-year-old Emily ate a biscuit, but Mr. Carter, who had laid down his newspaper to listen, became impatient.
“What’s the matter, mama?” he asked peevishly. “You look scared. Is William going to bring you a crocodile from the Nile?”
Mrs. Carter rallied.
“N-no, not exactly—that is——” She looked absently at the maid. “Miranda, go down to the ice-box and look it through. Let me know just what’s left over. I’ve got to ’phone to the market immediately.”
“Yes’m.”
Miranda, descrying a sensation from afar, retired reluctantly. She couldn’t hear quite as well in the kitchen entry when all the windows were open.
Mrs. Carter waited until the pantry door closed behind the maid; then she turned her horrified eyes upon her family.
“William’s married!” she gasped.
“Married?” echoed Mr. Carter angrily. “You’re crazy! William’s got too much sense. You haven’t read it straight. Give me that letter!”
He stretched out a fiercely impatient hand, but Mrs. Carter ignored his order.
“Listen! I did read it right. I know my own boy’s writing. I’ll read it aloud—listen!”
Mr. Carter thumped the table.
“Why in thunder don’t you read it, then? We’re listening! Of all the crazy notions! Married—you’ll find it’s ‘meandered.’ Go ahead!”
Mrs. Carter rallied her forces again, aware that Daniel and Leigh and Emily were gaping in amazed incredulity. She turned the letter over to the first page, caught her breath, and began.
“‘Dear mother,’” she read again, unsteadily this time, “‘I’m coming home on the Britannic, and I’m bringing you the sweetest daughterin-law in the whole world. Her name is Fanchon la Fare, and she’s the cleverest, the dearest, the most devoted girl in France. I can’t tell you how beautiful she is, but you’ll fall in love with her at first sight— just as I did. She’s small, “just as high as my heart,” mother, and she’s got the eyes of a wild fawn——’”
“Wild fawn—thunder!” ejaculated Mr. Carter, unable to restrain himself. “Give me that letter!”
This time Mrs. Carter surrendered it. She passed it down via Daniel, who was looking unusually pale. His face startled her, and, while Mr. Carter was reading the letter, she met her second son’s eyes. They gave her another shock.
“Dan,” she whispered in an awe-struck voice, “I—do you think he was engaged to—to——”
She mouthed a name, unable to finish her sentence under the young man’s look. Daniel frowned, his white lips closing in a sharp line, but Emily spoke up unabashed.
“Willie’s engaged to Virginia Denbigh. She’s got his ring. I’ve seen it on her finger.”
“Oh, Emily!” her mother sank back in her chair, feeling weaker than ever. Her boy, her Willie! She couldn’t believe that he would do anything like that. She shook her head indignantly at Emily. “Hush!” she whispered.
“He is, too!” her daughter insisted. “Why, mama, you know he is!”
Mrs. Carter cast a miserable glance at her husband, who was still reading the letter. He was a big, broad-shouldered man, with a ruddy face and bristling gray hair. Although usually a man of fairly equable
temperament, his expression at the moment was almost ferocious. He had grown very red, and his eyebrows were bushed out over the bridge of his nose in a scowl that transformed him.
Leigh nudged the unsympathetic Emily under the table.
“Gee, look at father!” he murmured.
Emily, who had resumed her breakfast, nodded with her mouth full. She had played the trump card, and she was quietly observing Daniel. He was as white as a sheet, she thought, and those big eyes of his had a way of smoldering.
“It’s because he’s had a bad night, I suppose,” Emily mused, “or else ——”
She speculated, gazing at him; but she did not arrive at any conclusion. She was interrupted by a furious sound from the foot of the table. It was fortunately smothered, but it had the rumble of an approaching tornado.
“The young donkey!” Mr. Carter exclaimed aloud. “My word, I thought William Carter had sense!”
Mrs. Carter’s amiable, distressed face emerged a little from behind the big silver hot-water urn which had descended in the family, along with a Revolutionary sword and the copper warming-pans.
“Can you find out anything, Johnson?” she asked faintly. “I—I can’t! He doesn’t even say where they were married or—or anything.”
“Married in a lunatic asylum, I suppose,” Mr. Carter returned fiercely. “He says—as plain as can be—that he hasn’t known the creature three months!”
“Good gracious! I didn’t get as far as that, I——”
William’s mother stopped short; she was afraid of making matters worse. Emily, who had stopped eating to listen, came suddenly to the surface.
“Listen, mama! She’s French, isn’t she?”
“I—I suppose so, dear.” Mrs. Carter shuddered slightly “I’m afraid she is.”
“Then I don’t see how Willie did it in three months. I read somewhere —in a magazine, I think—that it took months and months to court a French girl, and both parents have to say ‘yes,’ and you’ve got to have birth certificates, and the banns have to be posted for three weeks, and even then you can’t do it in a hurry; you’ve got to have a civil marriage and a religious marriage, and—and everything!”
“Good Lord, Emmy! How does a fellow run away with his best girl?” Leigh asked.
“He can’t!” Emily, having the floor, held it proudly. “He just can’t! It wouldn’t be legal; he’s got to have his birth certificate.”
“Humph!” Mr. Carter glared over the top of William’s letter at his wife. “William didn’t happen to carry his birth certificate hung around his neck, did he?”
Mrs. Carter shook her head, her eyes fixed on Emily For the first time she felt it was to be her portion to hear wisdom from the mouths of babes and sucklings.
“Emmy, are you sure you read all that?” she inquired anxiously.
“Of course she did, mother,” said Daniel, speaking for the first time, his low, deep voice breaking in on the shrill excitement of the family clamor. “It’s French law.”
That settled it. Daniel had studied law in old Judge Jessup’s office, and there was nothing in law, domestic and international, that Judge Jessup didn’t know. Mr. Carter turned his distorted countenance upon his second son.
“Is that really a fact, Dan?”
Dan nodded. He was not eating. He had thrust aside an almost untouched breakfast. The hand that he stretched out now for a glass of water was a little unsteady, but his father did not notice it. Mr. Carter was scowling at the letter again.
“It’s as plain as day here, he’s known her less than three months. Take three weeks for the banns out of that, and you get seven or eight weeks. The young donkey! Where were her people, I’d like to know?”
Mrs. Carter gasped. Horrible thoughts had been assailing her from the first, and she could no longer suppress them.
“D-do you think she can be respectable?” she quavered tearfully.
Mr. Carter was mute. He had no adequate language in which to express his own views upon that point, but his gloomy look was eloquent.
There was a horrible pause. Leigh and Emily exchanged glances. There was a little satisfaction in hers; she had exploded a bombshell second only to William’s letter, and now she interrupted her father’s forty-second perusal of that document.
“Papa,” she said in her solemn young voice, “Willie was engaged to Virginia Denbigh, and I don’t believe she’s broken it off at all!”
“Hush up, Emmy!” cried Daniel angrily. “Leave Virginia Denbigh out of it. You’ve no right to talk about her. William’s married!”
“I guess I’ve got a right to tell the truth!” Emily flared up. “Willie was engaged to Virginia Denbigh up to last week—and I know it!”
But, to her surprise, it was Leigh who broke out suddenly.
“What does it matter?” he cried. “If William’s fallen in love at first sight, he can’t help it, can he? It’s too much for a fellow, isn’t it?
When a man sees a woman he loves at first sight—it’s—it’s like a tornado, it bowls him over!”
“Eh?”
Mr. Carter turned and stared at his youngest son. So did his mother. Leigh was a high-school boy preparing for college. Emily, blond and snub-nosed and honest, had missed beauty by the proverbial inch that’s as good as a mile, but Leigh was a handsome boy. He had the eyes of a girl, too.
“Love at first sight?” bellowed Mr Carter, getting his breath. “What d’you know about it, you—you young idiot?”
Leigh reddened, but he held his ground.
“I know—how I’d feel,” he replied hotly.
“Oh, Leigh!” his mother smiled indulgently. “You’re such a child!”
“I’m not!” he retorted with spirit. “I’m eighteen—I’m a man!”
Emily giggled provokingly, and Mr Carter struck the table with his fist.
“Shut up!” he roared. “I’ve got one donkey—I don’t want another! What did you say, Emily?”
“I said Willie was engaged to Virginia Denbigh and——”
Daniel, with a suppressed groan of anger, rose from the table; but his father stopped him.
“Wait!” he said sharply. “I want to get the stuffing out of this. What do you mean, Emily?”
“I mean just exactly what I say, papa,” cried his daughter, giving Daniel a look of triumph. “Virginia’s got Willie’s ring on the third finger of her left hand, and he wrote her letters—love-letters—from Japan. I guess I know; I saw her reading one. I guess any girl could tell that!”
“You’re nothing but a child!” Mr. Carter exclaimed angrily, but he was searching back in his own mind. He had always planned this match between his favorite son and Virginia Denbigh, and Emily’s words went home. He reddened. “Dan, do you know anything about this?” he demanded, turning on his son.
Daniel, who was standing with his hand on the back of his chair, just as he had risen, averted his eyes.
“I’d rather not say anything about it, father,” he replied after a moment. “It’s—it’s not fair to Miss Denbigh, is it, to discuss it?”
His father, who had been observing him narrowly, thrust William’s letter into his pocket.
“I see it’s true,” he remarked dryly, “Emily’s got more candor than you have, that’s all.”
Daniel made no reply to this. He reached for his cane and moved silently toward the door, aware of Emily’s cryptic gaze.
Mr. Carter, meanwhile, broke out stormily again, striking the edge of the table.
“I’m ashamed of William!” he growled. “My son—and no sense of honor! I—I’d like to thrash him!”
No one replied to this. Daniel opened the door, went out, and closed it gently behind him. In the pause they heard his slow, slightly halting tread as he went across the hall to the front porch and descended the steps. As the last echo of his footsteps died away, Emily turned to her father.
“Why, papa, didn’t you know why Dan wouldn’t tell about Willie and Virginia?” she asked wisely.
Her father cast a startled look at her, his eyes still clouded with wrath and mortification.
“No. Why?”
Emily smiled across at Leigh.
“Dan’s in love with Virginia himself, and Willie cut him out. That’s why!”
Mr Carter stared at her with exasperation. She was going a little too far, and her annihilation was impending when Mrs. Carter suddenly uttered a cry of horror. She had picked up the newspaper. It was local, but it often copied bits from the New York dailies, when the bits were likely to interest the town.
“Oh, good gracious, here’s a marriage notice from a New York paper!” she cried, pointing it out with a shaking forefinger: “‘William Henry Carter and Fanchon la Fare.’ Papa, they weren’t married until they got to New York—the very day Willie posted that letter!”
Mr. Carter snatched the paper from her hand and read the notice; then he slammed it down on the table with a violence that made all
the dishes rattle. He was fairly choking with rage now
“Came over on the steamer with him, of course!” he shouted. “You get the idea, mama? A French girl! Came over on the same steamer —seven—nine days at sea—and got married in New York. My word!” he fairly bellowed. “What kind of a daughter-in-law d’you think we’ve got? I ask you that!”
“Oh, papa—sh!” gasped his wife weakly. “Think of these children ——”
“Sh?” he shouted. “Sh? With this thing out in black and white? D’you think people haven’t got eyes? The whole town’ll read it—trust ’em for that! French laws—birth certificates—banns—chaperons—I’d like to see ’em—wow!”
There was a crash of china, and Mrs. Carter rose and fairly thrust Leigh and Emily out of the room. For the first time in her experience with him, Mr. Carter had become volcanic.
IID C , having left the family conclave so abruptly, descended the steps to the garden-path and walked slowly—almost painfully, it appeared—to the gate.
He was a tall young man of twenty-five, thin from long suffering, and a little angular, and he was lame. He was not using a crutch now. Dr. Barbour had succeeded in alleviating the old trouble and Daniel could do very well with a walking-stick. But his face, pale and hollowcheeked, showed the lines of old suffering, and to-day there were dark rings around his fine eyes. The fact was that, at that moment, his heart was beating so heavily that its clamor seemed to fill his ears. A strange thing had befallen him. He had been stricken with horror and anguish at an insult to one he loved, and—almost at the same instant—he had felt a wild, unreasoning relief. It would not do, he must not let his mind dwell upon it. The habit of repression, the habit of endurance, the older habit of suffering, came to his aid. He set his teeth and walked straight out of the front gate and down to the end of the street. Then he paused almost unconsciously, because this spot, at the side of a hill, gave him a wide view of the town, and he often stopped here a moment on his way to and from Judge Jessup’s office, just to catch this glimpse of his native hills. The poet in Daniel loved this view.
The sun was on the hills to-day, except where the shadow of a passing cloud moved across the wide vista like a pillar of smoke to guide the wayfarers toward the Promised Land. The sun shone, too, on the roofs of the houses that clustered at Daniel’s feet, and it caught the gilt on a cross-crowned spire and flashed it against the background of the trees. The only vivid thing, it seemed, in the whole scene, where the gray of old shingled roofs and the sober tints of the time-worn houses blended with the greens and browns of nature. For it’s an old town, nestled in the hills, at the southern edge of one of the Middle States. A State, by the way, that is a good deal more
