The "Bedogni" SPG Group

Semoventi da 90/53 of the 10th Self-Propelled Gun Group

The last shot was fired from the last self-propelled gun still able to fire, on August 6, 1943. It was fired from an unspecified location in the Nebrodi Mountains, where the SPG, along with the Infantry Division "Aosta" and the Germans of the 15th Panzer Division "Sizilien", was trying to slow down the advance towards Messina of general Patton's troops. The last shot before being destroyed by the counter-battery barrage of American artillery and tanks.

The SPGs had begun the battle in twenty-four. On the third day of battle, they had shrunk to fourteen; on July 19, there remained ten; on August 11 there were three, but no longer able to fight. The last two, after exhausting all the shots, managed to arrivare to Messina under the command of a lieutenant who had replaced the captain, whom had been killed in action; one of the vehicles barely moved, and the other had to be towed. They were little more than wrecks and it was decided that it was not worth the trouble of ferrying them to Calabria. The dead commander of the battery was called Carlo Verona, and for him the Germans proposed the Iron Cross first class, posthumous. Unpredictable recognition by an ally who already considered subordinate, and unreliable, all Italian troops still able to fight.

This was all that remained of the 10th Self-Propelled Gun Group, which had been one of the few Italian units equipped with modern and effective vehicles, technically on par with the German and Anglo-American analogues. The unit, which had been created to be used in antitank function on the Eastern Front, was then sent to Sicily, where it had arrived on December 17, 1942. Divided into three groups, each with two batteries with four self-propelled guns each, the 10th Self-Propelled Gun Group was commanded by Colonel Ugo Bedogni and had been assigned to the XII Corps of general Mario Arisio, stationed in western Sicily, between Calatafimi, Salemi and Caltanissetta. The self-propelled guns with which it was equipped, mounted on hulls of M14 tanks, were built with modern 90/53 Ansaldo guns, and the General Staff initially wanted for them to be used against the modern and terrifying Soviet T34 tank, against whom the anti-tank guns of the ARMIR had become completely useless. But now, what would they go there for? The retreat from the Don, in December, was already a tragic rout. The 10th had just arrived in Sicily in January 1943, when it was passed in review by King Victor Emmanuel III. In one of the photos taken for the occasion, the king passes the lined-up unit aboard an open car, with a large entourage of generals; on the right fender of the royal car an evident dent is visible, absent in other photos from a few days earlier. All the soldiers lined up in front of the self-propelled guns, gaze toward the king, but one (third from left) looking slyly towards that dented fender. Is it possible that even for the king nobody could find, in the whole transport fleet of the Sixth Army, a car in perfect order?

And the dawn of July 10 came, with the sea in front of Gela and Licata full of American ships that poured tons of projectiles on the positions held by the 207th Coastal Division and its few artillery, which as soon as they fired a salvo were located and blasted by cruisers, which had approached the coast as much as the water depth allowed them. The regiments of Patton took Licata and advanced on Campobello. The eight self-propelled guns of the CLXII Group of the 10th were sent as a reinforcement to General Ottorino Schreiber (Italian despite the German name), a veteran of the Russian front, and manage to form a line of defense, in support of the other units that the day after attempted a counter-attack. The American advance is, for the time being, contained: the group had lost its first three vehicles but has knocked out more than a few armored cars and Sherman tanks. The shaped charge projectiles of 90/53 guns easily pierced the 60-mm frontal armor of the American tanks, and even the 100-mm armor of the more powerful MkIII "Churchill" British tank. Thus began the war of the 10th Self-Propelled Group. Every day, a vehicle in less, while General Schreiber moved the line of defense more and more towards the interior. Fierce fighting took place for Palma Montechiaro. In front of Naro, the self-propelled guns managed to prevent American tanks from entering the town. On 17 July, the Italian units fall back towards Leonforte. On 18 July, the Americans passed Santa Caterina Villaermosa. "At 7 o’clock – wrote General Schreiber in his report on the fighting from July 11 to July 21 – the enemy artillery hammered the areas where the 90/53 were deployed: they ketp firing throughout the day, and the losses were particularly heavy among the personnel manning the 90/53 guns, but they managed to push back to Santa Caterina armored cars and tanks which had arrived at 1 km from Portella. On 19 July, four guns were hit and rendered unusable". The 10th was reduced to just four self-propelled guns, and on 21 July it was dissolved as an organic unit. The only remaining battery was aggregated to the 15th Panzer Division "Sizilien", and continued to fight in the Nebrodi mountains and Caronie mountains till that last shot, on August 6. In the end, the casualties the Group were: three battery commanders killed out of six; four more officers killed; two out of its three group commanders wounded; thirteen more officers wounded; fifty soldiers killed and one hundred and twenty wounded. More than twenty received medals, dead or alive; the banner of the Group was granted the Silver Medal of Valour and the "privilege" of being quoted in the July 24 war bulletin, the day before the overthrow of Mussolini.

(from an article of “La Repubblica”)

Here is a brief description of the effects of one of these 90/53 self-propelled guns on an American Sherman tank:

As Company H of the U.S. 66th Armoured Regiment, 2nd Armoured Division approached Canicatti on July 12th 1943, the M4A1 Sherman tank 'Hannibal' of the company commander Captain N. H. Perkins inadvertenly fired tracers from it's coaxial machine gun while masking enemy positions with smoke shells. A SMV90/53 crew of the 163rd Gruppi spotted the tracer source and fired a round striking 'Hannibal' on it's 75mm gun muzzle tip. This tore the gun from it's mount and spun the turret to the left. As the crew bailed out another round hit 'Hannibal' and also some subsequent rounds. 

MOVM recipients

The Gold Medal of Military Valour (Medaglia d’Oro al Valor Militare, MOVM) is the highest military decoration in the Italian armed forces. In November 1945, the Minister of War suggested that the Commission tasked with deciding about the award of decorations should examine with criteria of just strictness, “for obvious considerations”, the proposals about decorations for the men who had fought in Sicily.

Twelve individuals were awarded the MOVM for actions during the battle for Sicily; all but one, posthumously. Here they are listed in alphabetical order, with the motivation for the medals.

Luigi Adorno, Second Lieutenant of the 146th Coastal Regiment. He was in command of a coastal stronghold, surrounded for hours by an overwhelming number of Allied paratroopers and later attacked by Allied columns; having been ordered to resist to the last, he did so, and kept fighting while his platoon suffered heavy losses and inflicted others on the attackers. Repeatedly wounded, he died after shouting “Long live Italy”.

Vincenzo Barone, Second Lieutenant of the 243rd Coastal Battalion. He had volunteered for the Army; after being wounded during an air raid, he was offered a desk job, but he refused it to return to his men. On 10 July 1943, he was in command of a few men on the beach of Marzamemi Pachino; following the orders he had received, he kept his position and encouraged his men to resist against overwhelming landing forces. Nearly all of his men were killed, and his automatic firearm ran out of ammunition; he still tried to stop the attackers with hand grenades, but was killed by a burst of machine gun in his face.

Curzio Castagnacci, Lieutenant Commander in command of the 5th Motor Torpedo Boat Flotilla (with motor torpedo boat MS 66 as flagship). In the night of 21 July 1943, he twice attacked a section of two British destroyers off Capo Campolato; upon seeing the other MTB of his section under heavy enemy fire, he drew the attention of the enemy on his MTB, fighting against the destroyers with his machine guns. When the MTB was seriously damaged, and he was mortally wounded, he successfully disengaged and brought back his MTB section to the base; he died of his wounds before his MTB reached the port.

Giovanni Cattaneo, Sergeant of the 34th Infantry Regiment. On 29 July 1943, he was in command of a machine gunner squad, attacked by preponderant Allied forces. He stopped the attackers for over three hours; when all of the machine gunners were killed, he personally manned the machine gun and kept firing, forcing the attackers to retreat. He was twice wounded but kept on firing, until he was killed by a grenade.

Enrico Francisci, Major General of the MVSN (Blackshirts). He asked and obtained command of the forces (177th Bersaglieri Regiment and 161st Self-Propelled Guns Group) tasked with launching a counterattack against the American forces that had landed in Licata. The counterattack took place between Favarotta and Campobello di Licata, at dawn on 11 July 1943; Francisci personally led it on board the leading SPG, and in doing so he was beheaded by a shell fired by a tank.

Guido Moccia, Major of the 10th Bersaglieri Regiment. A war maimed, he nonetheless volunteered for command of a Bersaglieri battalion, which he led against preponderant Allied forces for three days (near Naro-Favara, Agrigento, between 11 and 14 July 1943). During the action he was wounded six times, lost his right arm and suffered a grievous wound to the face; he kept leading the fighting until he exhausted his energies and ceded command to the last surviving captain of the battalion. This was the only MOVM awarded to a living soldier for the Sicilian campaign.

Mario Mona, Colonel in command of the 33rd Infantry Regiment. Already a veteran of three wars, he led the Italian counterattack in the battle of Gela and initially managed to push back the American forces; they were then attacked by armoured forces, ad Mona resisted with the few survivors of the leading battalion till they ran out of ammunition. On the following night, they evaded capture; Mona refused to be replaced in the defense of the rear units. When he received the order to withdraw, he stayed behind with the rearguard to make sure that all of his men would safely retreat; in doing so, he was killed in action on 13 July 1943, between Gela and Butera. His remains were never found.

Gino Alberto Priolo, Flight Lieutenant in command of the 208th Fighter Squadron. Though exempted from active service following the loss of one eye, caused by an illness, he required and obtained to be assigned again to air force units as pilot. In command of the 208th Fighter Squadron, equipped with Reggiane Re 2002, he took part in an attack against Allied naval forces off Eastern Sicily, on 19 July 1943; after dropping his bombs, he attacked and shot down a enemy plane that had attacked one of the aircraft in the formation. He was then attacked in turn by preponderant enemy planes, and he fought back until he was shot down and killed.

Antonio Santangelo, Second Lieutenant of the 40th Artillery Group. In command of an artillery section, he took part for three days in bitter fighting near Solarino; he then required and obtained to be employed in anti-tank role. His stronghold was finally surrounded by armoured forces but kept resisting; when the artilleryman manning last surviving gun was seriously wounded, he replaced him and kept firing until he was mortally wounded by a burst of machine gun, on 13 July 1943. He died after encouraging his few surviving men to resist.

Guido Signorelli, Lieutenant of the 216th Autonomous 75/27 Artillery Group of the “Napoli” Division. In command of a section of 75/27 mm guns, he led the fighting against overwhelming Allied forces; during the following withdrawal, near the Canicattini Bagni-Floridia crossroads (on 10 July 1943), when his unit was threatened with encirclement by armoured forces, he led them in fighting their way out. Though wounded by a burst of machine gun in the chest, he kept fighting with hand grenades until he was hit again and mortally wounded; he died while encouraging his men to keep resisting.

Luigi Scapuzzi, Second Lieutenant of the 233rd 47/32 Tank Destroyer Battalion. Serving in a depot, he repeatedly required, and finally obtained, assignment to a battalion of 47/32 self-propelled anti-tank guns. He assumed command of his company after its commander had been captured; on 22 July 1943 he was tasked with helping in the defense of heavily engaged units during bitter night fighting. He carried out several offensive thrust to contain the attackers’ pressure; when his SPG ran out of ammunition, Scapuzzi, rather than retreat, kept fighting with a submachine gun until he was hit in the chest and killed.

Erminio Sommaruga, Lieutenant Colonel of the 287th Coastal Regiment. Fighting near Marsala, on 23-24 July 1943, when his artillery group ran out of ammunition, he assumed command of a coastal stronghold, armed with a few machine guns, attacked and encircled by Allied forces. When the few remaining men surrendered, Sommaruga decided to keep fighting and die on the spot; he manned the last surviving machine gun, fired the last rounds, then bared his chest and shouted to the attackers “Here is a good target for you”. He was immediately gunned down.

About

A look at the Allied invasion of Sicily from an Italian perspective.

Fighting near Agrigento - 2nd Lieutenant Alfredo Ferri

The fighting near Agrigento in the recollection of Alfredo Ferri, from Treviglio (Lombardy), then a 22-year-old Bersaglieri second lieutenant:

"On a bad day, towards the end of June, brief posters – almost like mourning posters – appeared on the walls of every city and small town, informing the population that it was thought that the landing of Anglo-American troops was near. In addition to the ritual demands for calm and instructions on how to behave, they informed that the bells would no longer be rung. The resuming of their sound would give the news of landing.

"The days that followed were consumed, for families, in the most worried discussions about what to do and what to put away, and in the exchange of news and opinions with family and friends. The tension was becoming more acute, every noise could be the one of the bells. On the night of 8 July, we heard the sound of bells coming from the country before the arrival of the messenger. It was about twenty-two hours and we were preparing to sleep. I cried, "the bells, the bells."

"In the dark it was all excited screams, commands, everything was removed in the shortest possible time, tents, command, kitchens, and loaded on carts. The laborious movements of men's shadows loomed against the few lights. After the Bersaglieri were loaded on the trucks, the tarpaulin covers were tied, and the officers climbed in the cabins, the column quickly rushed to the coast. The road seemed entirely made of curves, down to Burgio, then to Ribera till the junction of Montallegro, in complete darkness, to reach after about eighty kilometers the suburbs of Agrigento. For our company the destination was the "Post 93, Point 90, near the mouth of the river Naro, at km 193 of SS [Strada Statale, trunk road] Agrigentina n. 115". The order was "resistance to the bitter end to prevent the access of enemy armored vehicles in Agrigento".

"The American fleet was now in sight of the Sicilian coast, and American planes continuously passed high above us. The landing started with the launch of thousands of paratroopers in the inland areas of the island. Our post was about ten kilometers away, located on a hill above the road that ran along the sea. Two curves limited the visibility. The hill had already been partially prepared for defense, with the excavation of some trenches and foxholes.

"In the late afternoon the first blacks dots of the approaching fleet appeared in the sea, and above our heads we began to hear the hissing sound of the first bombs that were thrown far behind us. Slowly, the black dots became more and more dense and large while the shelling from the sea increased in intensity. With sunset the traces of bullets became more clear, in different colors. The sky exploded into a frightening whirlwind of fires and explosions. We were not able to identify the targets of these shots, but it was certainly the city and the port of Agrigento. Not us, for the moment.

"From the first row of big ships, smaller boats began to come off, and from these other smaller ones, almost filling the sea area in front of us. A part of the US 7th Army was landing on the beach in front of us. We spent the long hours of dusk and night with the most mixed feelings in the heart, without a word, attracted to the rumbles, the hissing of the bullets and the "spectacle" of colors that enveloped us.

With the onset of the night everything it stopped almost suddenly, and the darkness hid from our eyes the landing operations which certainly had ended on the beach. Waiting for dawn, tired from work and from the emotions, the Bersaglieri had fallen asleep curled up in the trenches. We four officers tried to rest a little on the sheaves of straw left on center of the hill.

"The rosy dawn was still forming in the sky when we were woken by the first bullet hits on our positions. With a quick run we reached our trenches, hidden by reeds and straw laid on them. One of us, however, remained on the field, shot in the knee by a large machine gun tracer bullet. We could not do anything for him, as the battle had broken out. He was rescued later by the stretcher-bearers of a health section, who had been placed under cover, behind us, to service other units that operated in the area.

"While running, I fell in my trench, where the Bersaglieri manning the anti-tank gun were anxious. The first tanks had appeared in one of the curves of the road to Agrigento. The cannon ready and put into position, I fired on the first tank. Perhaps, more than my aim, it was luck that directed the blow to the tracks, blocking the tank on the road, prompting the others that followed to quickly withdraw behind the curve. This was my baptism of fire.

"The American infantry, which had remained hidden on the beach, started to attack our stronghold. The attack lasted till the evening, then ceased. We began to move tentatively, without a response from the Americans. I sent a few Bersaglieri down to the road. One tank crewman was still in the tank. He was our first, and only, prisoner, whom whe accompanied to the rear. But what most made us rejoiced were the supplies of food found in the tank, cigarettes, chocolate, biscuits, jam, taste unknown to us. It was the first contact with the living habits of Americans and their wealth.

"Much less pleasure gave us the discovery that the gunners of the post below us had fled. They were in a place too exposed and they could not do anything else. One was still hidden in the ditch of the road. He would not hear about getting into our trenches, and he disappeared during the night.

"We spent almost the entire night awake. The fear of a sudden attack after the unexpected cessation of fire, forced us to maintain a high state of alarm. The Bersaglieri watched in turns, some slept as best as they could in the trenches, others out on wheat stubble, wrapped in capes, and so did us officers. I ventured to take a brief tour of the positions. Everything still seemed quiet.

"The next morning it was not the "rosy dawn" to welcome us on this earth, but the furious fire of machine guns. Thus started a new day of battle, on our part to prevent the transit on the road and thwart American attempts to attack our stronghold. The afternoon hours slowly passed, in the fiery pit of the trenches, almost eternal for us who expected the cool of the night and the cessation of the shots.

"We had run out of water reserves, and the we started to feel the thirst. With the onset of darkness, the shooting stopped. It was agreed between us and the Americans almost a form of tacit understanding. In the dark we began to move with less prudence, without meeting any hostile action. We too felt their movements, and even the ping of spades with which they adjusted their defenses. But we did not shoot.

"It was possible to send down a small patrol in the farm below us to look for water. The well was still in use. They came back with a few small bottles of water and even with a few eggs that the hens, not frightened by the gunfire at all, smoothly continued to lay. The night passed with less tension, and a little more rest.

"On the third day, the music changed. The American soldiers had changed the direction of attack, moving it on our left, where we thought there were major deposits of sulfur slabs. On our maps there were not, however, indications of the existence of sulfur mines. Behind, in sheltered position, they placed some batteries of mortars. From there began, in the morning, the first shots. We would have preferred the blunt firing of machine guns than the mortar fire, which came devious, without notice. We could hear them whistling above our heads, and, when we were lucky, bursting behind us. They were shooting a long shot and one short, to adjust fire.

"The shots were falling closer and closer, but, fortunately, never hit right in the trenches. The land around the stronghold was now full of holes and bumps. We began to suffer the first wounded, hit by shrapnel while attempting to crawl to ammunition depots. There was still, although risky, a modest assistance to the wounded, who were transported to the rear.

"The day passed without the enemy being able to advance towards our positions. The cannon continued to be of much use in the support of the fire of machine guns and rifles. We could see with binoculars the Americans, through the narrow corridors of the blocks of sulfur slabs, move running from one block to another in an attempt to approach us.

"I pointed the 47/32 gun in one of these corridors, waiting and counting the times of their movements. I fired almost by instinct, hitting right in a small patrol. I still see the scene, albeit distant and confused, the movements of wounded soldiers. It took me a moment of absurd joy, followed by the shout of victory of the two Bersaglieri who were helping me. Then I went on to ask me why I was happy.

"The tension and fatigue began to be felt. As food we had hard biscuits, some old loaves and some tins of hard and fibrous meat. For the water, we could still count on night supplies from the well of the farm.

"We began to count our dead. In my trench, fallen over the pile of earth around, one of our sergeants, De Luca, from Apulia, had been shot in the middle of the forehead, a small hole, with instant death I think. Not even a cry, the eyes staring towards the sky. He had in his pocket a fifteen days’ leave to return home to bid farewell to his young wife, whom he had just married.

"Another soldier was shot in the abdomen by a hail of bullets. He lay on the edge of the trench, with his belly open. His lamentations, pain, his vain pleas for help continued for many hours without us having a chance to assist him.

"The nervous tension of the Bersaglieri, who were now collapsing, gave us officers serious concerns. One of my Bersaglieri, who seemed the more strong and robust, suffered in an afternoon from a nervous breakdown, drooling and screaming his desire to end all that. The other comrades, terrified, looked at me waiting for my help. I made an unconscious act, spontaneous and dangerous. I took him by the shirt, slamming him against the trench wall, giving him two strong slaps, without a word. He remained silent, staring at me, and after a few moments he came to himself, but did not say any words.

"The battle went on for a couple of days, without the Americans being able to move forward. The stronghold, under constant bombardment with mortars, was reduced to a mass of holes. In the ammunition depots, hit several times, the cases continued to burn, increasing the danger of any movement. Even the anti-tank gun was hit. It remained overturned in its pitch out of my trench, now useless, as was most of our weapons, with no more ammunition. We felt that the end was near. We prepared small deposits of hand grenades on the edges of the trenches, for the last defense.

"For six days we had been eating little biscuits soaked in water, but even these were ending, and we could not go down to the well of the farm anymore. The Americans, too, had slowed the pace of their attacks. Most likely they waited for our surrender and they did not want more deaths.

"On the morning of the seventh day the shots were further decreased, and early in the afternoon they almost came to an end. I was lying out of the trench, on the pitch of the cannon, sheltered by a pile of earth. With binoculars I tried to locate the American positions from whence there came no sound, nor did we notice any movement.

I was so absorbed that at the first moment, I did not notice that some shadows, cast by the setting sun behind my back, were appearing in front of me. I quickly jumped in the trench. Above, menacing, a patrol of American soldiers, with machine guns, demanded our surrender. They had broken through a point in our stronghold, and they took us from behind. In the double trench, which had the shape of an L, the Bersaglieri had taken refuge in the branch when they were more sheltered. To be able to hit us, the Americans would have to move to the other side, but they feared our reaction. Their demands to come out were followed by repeated shots in the trench. Now there was nothing that could be done. It was up to me, waving a white handkerchief in my hand, going out first. They saw unarmed and did not shoot.

"After an initial feeling of fear, I was overtaken by a sudden sense of calm. In the eyes of the Bersaglieri, almost in disbelief, I read the passage from the feelings of fear to those of resignation and then almost of joy.

"For us it was over. All around, in the middle of the holes of the bombs, were our dead. They did not leave us the time to collect them, nor to grieve.

"Others came out of the trenches and joined the small group of those who remained of my squad. They took us to a distant grove, and divided the officers from the others. A quick identification with the dog tags we carried around our neck, then they replaced them with a tag, a canvas cardboard, hanging on the neck with a cord: "Date of capture july, 16, 1943 – place of capture, Agrigento, Naro River, Q95 – Alfredo Ferri – 2nd Ltn – Unity making capture 7th CT" and my serial number : 81-1-49495." On the back of the tag it was written, in distorted Italian, "Se previene i prigionieri di guerra di non mutilare, distruggere e perdere questa etichetta" (prisoners of war are forbidden from maiming, destroying or losing this label).

"The US government can feel comfortable. I still carefully keep it among my souvenirs. From that time I had become a "PW, prisoner of war".

(From the book by Alfredo Ferri, "Diari di vita e di cooperazione. 1921-2005", published by Ecra, Edizioni del Credito cooperativo, 2009.)