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Modica, Saturday, October 14

This has been a day of visiting and hearing stories from the past…but I’ll start at the end of the day.  I’m just back to my digs from an evening of jazz at the Teatro Garibaldi Modica.  The group was Rosalba Bentivoglio Sicilian Jazz Quintet.  I didn’t think Rosalba really hit her stride until about a quarter of the way through the set but when she did it was great stuff.  She did a vocal impersonation during one piece of a muted trumpet or trombone and that was cool.  Great back-up and individual performances from the pianist, bass, percussion and sax.

I had been thinking of a photo theme for the trip and thought it might be called “The Italy my Father Never Saw”.  I may have to revise that because I don’t think he would have seen or heard a jazz quintet while over here either.

It’s almost midnight in Modica and the streets are just packed with people, young and old.  Dave says the teeny boppers will have to go home shortly but then the night starts for the older set…20 and up.  I’m tired just thinking about it.

The day started with breakfast created and served by Dave himself.  German bacon, Italian/French toast…and of course…cafe.  Since I’ve got this fancy blue car the least I could do for my friends is chauffer them around….so it’s off to a mall to have coffee again with a very interesting group of visitors and ex-pats.  I don’t know their various reasons for being in Modica or for how long people have been coming or just living here but it was interesting to hear the language flow…both Brit English and Italian.  I sat beside Maria who I will be meeting later in the day, along with her mother Susan and father Gino.

Once the 16 or so of us had finished coffe and chatting our little foursome headed for a grocery store cum walmart where Dave and Barb purchased new supplies.  We also met a couple of other members of the coffee klatch who had declined to join the group today. This meeting people along the way seems to be a regular occurrence for Dave and Barb. As we meandered up to the teatro this evening Barb stopped to chat with a local grocer that they knew and as we were leaving the teatro Dave stopped to chat to another acquaintence.

I had some time off before the next adventure so I wandered around town a bit and took a few shots.  This is an amazing town set in a river valley with stone buildings blending in with the rock walls.  I’m not sure my photos will do it justice.

I wandered into the foyer of the museum near where I’m staying and their were some amazing works on display by local photographers.  They were all monochrome and I think I may try that treatment when I get home.  I don’t have the capacity to do much right now except transfer some images directly to my laptop.

Off again in the afternoon, this time to meet with Maria and her parents.  Maria became fascinated with the story of Sicily and Modica during the allied invasion after reading “Road to Rome” by Christopher Buckley.  This is an older volume that was primarily about the British end of things. She had also heard her father, Gino, talk about his experiences as a six year old seeing the young Canadian invaders come through Modica. I think it started to get really interesting for her when another band of Canadians descended on Sicily and Modica.  I’m referring to Operation Husky 2013 which involved a group of Canadian strangers following in the footsteps of the Canadian 1st Division in Sicily.  If you get a chance to see “Bond of Strangers” you will find that an incredible link has been established between Sicilians and Canadians.  While bond of strangers may have referred to the group that walked the route of 1st Div, the movie clearly shows that bonding of another sort went on during that encounter.  The scene at the end where the names of the 485 men lying in Agira are read out and in turn answered by a representative standing behind each marker is one of the most moving pieces I’ve ever seen.

Maria shared her collection of photos and notes, many of which were surprisingly available on the internet.  One piece was a pamphlet that was directed at Officers and was all about how to behave while in Sicily. We had a great discussion related to my travels and more particularly my Dad’s travels.  He didn’t go to Modica but from what we were able to discern he probably did go through the village where they have a family cottage.  This was some confirmation about her mother’s insistence that some soldiers had passed that way during the invasion.  Maria also shared a number of other references, including Mark Zuehlke’s two works “Through Blood and Sweat” which recounts Operation Husky 2013 and “Operation Husky”, which is his account of the Canadian invasion of Sicily itself.

I shared my intent to leave memorial stones at each of the gravesites but I also told Maria that I might not be able to make it to Pachino where they landed.  She was insistent that I go and put my toe in the same water that my father had touched.  Later, when we were getting ready for dinner Dave provided some data that he had worked out.  He said I could be in Pachino in about 30 minutes and that if I took the autostrada I could be in Messina in 2.5 hours.  I think he too wants me to stick my toe in the ocean.

Maria’s father Gino also recounted his experiences during the liberation of Modica.  Our meeting was in the family home that they lived in during the war but when the invasion came they moved to nearby caves to be safe from bombs and artillery fire.  Gino recalled the crashing sound of shellfire and seeing a fighter plane trailing smoke as it crossed Modica.  Gino’s father could speak some English, which was rare in those days, and he approached the soldiers that came down their road, asking who they were and where they were from.  That they were Canadians was something the entire family has not forgotten. Gino recalls asking for chocolate and cigarettes and giving all the smokes to his dad who used the tobacco to fill his pipe.  He also said that there were plenty of munitions around and the kids used to seperate the bullets from their casings, dump the powder into a pile then light it for the “whoosh” effect.  He tried on a discarded gas mask just to see how he looked.  He also described how one youngster found some form of munition that exploded and blinded him for life.  As the old saying goes “War is not healthy for kids or other living things”.

It is quite strange to be talking to people this far from home who have such great respect and admiration for what Canadians did here.  I’m glad I had this opportunity to speak to people whose lives were so greatly affected by “our boys”.

Stand Down

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Sicily, October 11th and 12th, 2017

The first day has been rather exhausting.  A long bus ride to Toronto, a long wait at the airport, a long ride on the plane to Rome, a short wait at the airport, a short flight to Catania and a long stand in line at the Europcar rental site.  They must have felt the need to make it up to me as I’ve been given a Renault station wagon with a turbo charged diesel engine and 6 speeds of transmission to mash through.  It is a peppy little beast and I just may enjoy driving it for 3 weeks.

First stop was the Catania War Cemetery, located not very far from the airport and on the way to Ragusa and Modica. It’s a very quite and rather small place just off the main highway but also under the flight path to the airport so there are lots of overhead visitors every day.  I signed the visitors book and took a few photos of the site in general then I went and found James resting place.  You can’t see Etna in the background as you can in the picture taken with his mother as there are now mature olive trees growing at the back and sides of the cemetery. I did take a shot of me in the same position as his mother but I look rather travel worn so I’ll save that to share with the family only.

You can see Pat’s stone resting on the top of the monument.  I don’t think even the spring rain will move it.

When I left the cemetery I passed over Fosso Buttacetto which is the ditch James and his mates were trying to cross when he was killed.  It’s reasonably wide but not too deep and today the highway takes advantage of a very nice bridge.  On July 18th there was no bridge and it was heavily defended by the Germans as the British tried to gain control of Catania. A few days later, July 21st, Montgomery gave up trying to take Catania by frontal assault and went into a defensive position.  The Canadians were proceeding well against strong positions at Leonforte and Agira on the 8th Armies western flank, so Monty wanted them to take the brunt of the effort and drive east to drive into the right flank of the Germans at Catania.  He even went so far as to relax restrictions on artillery rounds per gun which gave 1st Division the artillery support it would need to complete the task.

I made it to Modica with lots of time to spare before meeting with our friends Dave and Barb.  I did spruce myself up a wee bit as I’m sure I looked as bad as I felt.  Dave met me on the main street and escorted me up the cobbled round and around the cobbled corner to their little bit of heaven on the side of the hill overlooking Modica.  Their friend Lola was there as well and we had a glass of bubbly then headed out on the town…actually only a few hundred meters from their house…to a pizza restaurant that was so hidden down an alley and through some twisty rooms, that I’m not sure I could find it again.  A bit of vino rosso with my pizza and I was ready for my bed at Modica Old Town rooms.  I fell asleep as soon as I lay down but woke again about two hours later.  The good news is there was a cool breeze and no noise and I eventually found myself back in dreamland.

Sciliy, October 13th

I had planned to get up early as the intent was to do the route from Pachino as far as Agira cemetery.  What was it that Burns said about plans?  Well, he was right.  I got up at 07:30 but it took me a while to get organized.  I did meet Dave, my trusty navigator and temperature control officer for the day, at 08:30, grabbed a quick cafe nero and downed a brioche for breakfast and we were on our way.

I immediately revised the plans.  I had hoped to start at Pachino but Barb was skeptical that we would get there, back and up to Agira given that Dave had to be home to cook dinner by 18:00 so we pushed on north from Modica along some of the roads 10 Bty would have travelled.  North through Giarratana and Vizzini, then west through Grammichele, Caltagirone then north again to Piazza Armerina.

It was just outside Piazza Armerina that Gunner Stanley Cobourn from St Catherines was killed.  10 Bty had just set up their gun position (GP) when a mighty explosion shook the ground, wounding several gunners and killing Cobourn.  What they didn’t know was that they had set up shop right beside a hidden German ammunition dump that had been booby-trapped.  The speculation was that a timing device had been used and it was just the luck of the draw that 10 Bty chose that site at the same time that time ran out.

We continued north, the countryside getting higher and rockier at every turn.  This part of the world is quite beautiful but I’m sure none of 1st Division even saw that side of things.  Every turn in the road held an unwelcomed surprise for them, blown bridges, sniping, hidden machine gun positions and anti-tank guns as well as mines that quickly disabled tanks and injured foot sloggers.  As we moved up the SP7A I could see Assoro rising ahead of us. It’s importance in the scheme of things was immediately obvious…as it was to the Hasty P’s who scaled its southeast side at night and rested the ground from the surprised Germans manning it.  The battle for Leonforte and Assoro are the stuff of military legends and are the main reason that Monty looked to the Canadians to save his bacon.  The narrow, winding road into Leonforte was a nightmare back then but for us we only had to contend with occasional tractor towing a manure spreader coming our way.

At Leonforte you are at about the same latitude as Catania so if you turn east there you are heading directly for the right flank of the Germans defending Catania…and thats what 1st Division did.  We passed through Nissoria and on to Agira itself, which is another beautiful Sicilian village atop a mountain.  The Canadian War Cemetery is signed on the eastern outskirts of Agira and with those directions not hard to find.

This is the only all Canadian war grave in Europe.  It is on a lovely high piece of ground with Etna in the backround and the hills of Agira in front.  There are 485 Canadians at rest there.  We met another Canadian couple there from Pembroke who were also following the trail and had travelled up from Pachino that morning.

We found Stanley Cobourn thanks to the War Graves registry that is at every site and I placed my stone of remembrance and thanked him for his sacrifice.  Stanley was one of the “originals” having gone over with 10 Bty in ’39.  He had also participated as a gunner in the Royal Salute to their majesties in Niagara Falls on June 7th 1939.  That day he was a gunner with A gun and my Dad was a gunner with C gun.

In the event that I don’t get to Pachino I’ll share another little story about the landing there.  Jack Gill (my “uncle” Jack) was Battery Sergeant Major (BSM) at the time of the landing.  He was bound and determined to be the first 10 Bty member to land on enemy soil…and sure enough of all the 10 Bty men that disembarked as a unit, he was the first to touch Sicilian soil.  He was quite miffed however when he was greeted by my Dad who had already landed.  Dad was the signaller assigned to the Forward Observation Officer (FOO) who had accompanied the 48th Highlanders ashore.  So Dad and his FOO were actually the first 10 Bty ranks who landed at Pachino and I don’t think Jack (or my Dad) ever forgot that quirk of history.

And…another little Pachino story.  10 Bty consisted of 2 troops, “Easy” and “Foxtrot”  Easy troop never made it to Pachino.  Easy troop was aboard the “City of Venice” heading for Pachino when the ship was torpedoed.  The first 10 Bty casualty of the Italian campaign was a gunner from Roye Giffords gun crew.  No one is exactly sure what happened but they suspect that he was swept overboard following the torpedoing and was lost at sea.  I don’t know his name and I don’t believe there is a burial site except somewhere in the Mediterranean Sea.  Easy troop spent some time in North Africa waiting for new transport but eventually joined 10 Bty in Sicily just in time for the crossing to mainland Italy at Reggio di Calabria.

What could be a better end to the day than a bit of barbequed lamb, roasted veggies and a glass of vino rosso.  Well…add a snifter of limoncello and a slice of pistachio torta…and well…you’ve had a very fine day.

Stand down.

 

 

o

 

Only a couple of days to go and I’m still muddling away with some Italian and playing with Google Earth and my maps.  I’ve got a draft itinerary of sorts and I’ve been trying to work out when and where to include some of the stories I’ve heard.  In the midst of this I’ve had two photo shoots, one on Thursday night and one a friends wedding on Saturday.  Sunday was a day of rest for my aching feet.

I’ve also finished the stones and my friend Pat has added her own.  She decided that, since James was English, an English teapot would be a fitting image on her stone.  She’s done it in red, white and blue and I know the family will love to think of this remembrance gracing James final resting place.  I got a wee bit better at my artwork and I also chose smaller stones. I really don’t need a luggage surcharge just because the bag is full of rocks.

I hope you will bear with me as I reminisce a bit…part of this effort is intended to leave a record for the kids and grand-kids…and some of you may not know all of these background details.

This picture shows me on the right, Dad in the middle and Danny Beck on the left.  It was taken in the summer of 1962 in front of our house on Twidale Avenue in Niagara Falls.

I was 15 but I lied about my age in order to join the Student Militia.  Dad had been promoted to Lieutenant by then and I just love the twinkle in his eye as he stands between these two rather serious youngsters.  We are all wearing summer kit of course.  I ended up joining 10th St Catharines Field Battery, Royal Canadian Artillery, that September as did Danny but he didn’t take to it that much and soon lost interest.

The next shot is of me in battledress taken sometime in the winter or spring of 1965.  I have very few photos of me and it was probably because of the promotion that this shot was taken.  I had been temporarily promoted from Bombardier to Lance Sergeant in order to be the senior NCO in charge of signals for our annual live shoot in either Meaford or Petawawa…can’t remember which.  Among other treats I recall the promotion gave me access to the Sergeant’s and Warrant Officer’s Mess which was heady stuff indeed as I would have been all of 18 (in real years).

All of my 10th Battery adventures took place while in high school and they always seemed to take precedence over other, more reasonable high school activities, like theatre, sports and studies.  I also spent my summer days playing at soldier.  I spent one summer on a Junior NCO course at Camp Niagara, in Niagara-on-the-Lake.  The ensuing promotion allowed me to be an instructor on two summer Student Militia Courses, one in Niagara and one in St Catharines.  I think it was the summer of ’65 while instructing in St Catharines that I was called upon to represent 10 Bty as a part of a military escort for the funeral of a St Catherine’s boy who had been killed in action in Vietnam.  He was Canadian with an American mother and had served in the Battery before enlisting in the US army.  As part of the Canadian contingent I was required to wear Dress Blues, which was tricky because I didn’t have Dress Blues.  The QM and one of our Staff Sergeants came through though and it was a warm sunny day when we travelled to Buffalo, after a ceremony in St Catherines, to lay him to rest.  I’ve tried to recall his name and even looked at the records for the Viet Nam War Memorial in Washington D.C., but I can’t recall who he was.  I do recall that he was a Sergeant and that’s why I was one of the ones picked as an escort.

All of this experience led me to believe that I should make a career out of the military.  I was highly motivated by a friend of mine, Bud, who had enlisted the year before and had been corresponding with lurid images of his peacekeeping posting in Cyprus…swimming in the sea in the morning and skiing in the mountains in the afternoon.  I was also quite bored with school so I dropped out and joined the Permanent Force (PF) Office Cadet Training Program (OCTP).  I soon realized that this was not the life I wanted.  It was fun being a part-time soldier, but doing it full time was a whole different way of life and it meant missing out on a lot of other things.  I’d already missed out on too many things and was eager to work on something other than military law, field-craft and command structures.  I was lucky in that I was able to get out before too long and go back to high school to finish Grade 13. By the time I got to first year at Queen’s University I was 20 year old, long haired and bearded…but somewhat wiser.

My link with 10 Bty didn’t end there.  October 1998 was a year after Dad passed and I was 41, married with two kids.  Mom and Dad had regularly attended the annual General Sir Isaac Brock Dinner held in the Stone Frigate at Niagara-on-th-Lake.  The event was really a disguised Mess Dinner whereby all the men from 10 Bty and the Lincoln and Welland Regiment would wear there mess kit or a tux and all the ladies got dressed up “like a candied pig”.  Mom asked me to be her escort so I donned a rented tux and went along for the ride.   I knew many of the 10 Bty men there….names like House, Holleran, Gill, Lambert and Page.  They were “originals” who had gone over in ’39 but were in their 80’s and 90’s then.  They had been citizen/soldiers for the vast part of their lives.  I continued to attend the Brock Dinner for a few years after Mom passed but every year there were fewer of those names around the table until finally it didn’t seem like the same event and I felt totally disconnected to that little bit of history that was 10th Battery.

I’m not really a soldier and I was never meant to be one.  I have made military history a bit of a hobby and I do have a lot of respect for Canadian soldiers (including naval and air) but I have a great deal of admiration for those civilians who become part time soldiers in our reserve units.  In this regard I was, of course, greatly influenced by my 10 Bty colleagues and their history but I also read a few works that served to emphasise the point.  Nicholas Monsarrat was a Royal Navy reservist. His book “The Cruel Sea” was, and continues to be, a favourite.  A less well known author and work is Peter Elstob who wrote “Warriors for the Working Day”. Elstob volunteered to join the Royal Tank Regiment during the war and his experiences shaped this novel about reservists and volunteers who have to learn the craft of being soldiers. And, of course, let’s not forget our own Farley Mowat’s work “And No Birds Sang”.  He was a young Lieutenant with the Hastings and Princed Edward Regiment, another reserve infantry unit that was brigaded with 10 Bty, and this true tale of his experiences in Sicily and Italy is a classic and well worth the read.

And just to put the personal stories in context…by the end of the war 1.1 million Canadians had served…most were volunteers.  We had the largest army ever commanded solely by Canadians, about 250,000 battle hardened troops, and we had the 3rd largest navy in the world.  Our population at that time was about 12 million meaning that almost 10% of our countries populace had gone to war.  Of those who served, 44,000 gave their lives, while 54,000 were physically wounded while countless others suffered less obvious wounds in silence.

So there it is.  Memories and stories from the past coming together in my 70th year, to be revisited and relived in Sicily and Italy, and along the way a bit more personal learning about what went on there from July 1943 to March 1945.

Must get on with processing images from the wedding.

Out