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- Herausgeber: Crowood
- Kategorie: Geisteswissenschaft
- Sprache: Englisch
The campaign in North Africa during World War Two was one of the most important of the conflict. The allies fought for control of North Africa against the German Afrika Korps led by Rommel. But the part played by Mussolini's Italian troops, and in particular the armoured divisions, in support of the Germans is not so well known. This painstakingly researched book looks in detail at the role of Mussolini's three armoured divisions - Ariete, Littorio and Centauro - and the invaluable part they played in Rommel's offensive between 1941 and 1943. Indeed, the author is able to show that on many occasions the presence and performance of the Italian armoured divisions was crucial to the success of the axis campaign.
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2012
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Copyright
First published in 2003 by The Crowood Press Ltd, Ramsbury, Marlborough, Wiltshire, SN8 2HR
www.crowood.com
This e-book edition first published in 2012
© Ian W. Walker 2003
All rights reserved. This e-book is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
ISBN 978 1 84797 473 0
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Introduction
1 Mussolini’s War
2 The Birth of the Armoured Divisions
3 Baptism of Fire
4 Trial by Combat
Plates
5 The Cauldron of Battle
6 The Mirage of the Nile
7 Iron Coffins
8 Last Stand and Retrospective
Appendix I – Italian Armoured Divisions: Orders of Battle 1941–42
Appendix II – Comparative Performance of Tank Weaponry 1941–42
Bibliography
Index
Introduction
In Britain and the wider English-speaking world almost everyone is familiar with the Desert War fought in North Africa between June 1940 and May 1943. They have all heard of the famous Field Marshal Bernard Montgomery and his 8th Army. They are equally familiar with his legendary opponent Field Marshal Erwin Rommel and his Deutsches Afrika Korps (DAK). The epic encounter between these rivals and their élite forces that took place at El Alamein is viewed as one of the key battles of World War II. There are countless books on the North African campaign, ranging in scope from academic studies of the grand strategy through to personal memoirs. In their entirety these works manage to touch on almost every conceivable aspect of the conflict.
In spite of all this, I hope to offer an entirely fresh perspective on this familiar campaign of World War II. This will come from a focus on the hitherto neglected story of the Italian involvement. In all previous accounts in English, the Italians have been either ignored completely or afforded little more than an acknowledgement of their presence – yet they made up the bulk of the Axis forces involved in this campaign, a fact not reflected in existing accounts. They are sometimes allowed a place during the first phase of the campaign as Britain’s only opponents, but the arrival of Rommel’s Afrika Korps in early 1941 quickly relegates them to obscurity thereafter. This book will seek to redress this imbalance by focusing directly on the activities of the Italians, particularly in the period following Rommel’s intervention.
In the historiography of World War II generally the Italians are undoubtedly poor relations, especially in English works. In some ways this is natural, since Italy was undoubtedly the weakest of the Axis powers. Its military were able to claim few significant successes during the war, while suffering a number of disastrous defeats, especially in their opening year of war. Thereafter Italy was effectively overshadowed by its German ally. In a real sense, however, the fighting that raged around the Mediterranean Sea and along the coast of North Africa was Italy’s war, and more precisely Benito Mussolini’s war, since it was the Italian dictator’s decision to declare war on Britain in June 1940 alongside Germany that plunged the Italians into a war for which they were unprepared. And it was his decision to invade British-occupied Egypt in September 1940 that first ignited the North African campaign – a campaign that would only end in May 1943 with the surrender of the Italian 1st Army to the Allies. If Italy had not entered the war it is unlikely that there would ever have been a North African campaign at all: the German war effort was almost entirely focused on the European continent, and from June 1941 onwards increasingly on their immense Russian campaign. This concentration of German resources was only occasionally distracted and to a minor extent by the need to rectify Italian failures in the Balkans and North Africa.
The central role of Italy in initiating the North African campaign makes it all the more surprising, therefore, that so little has been written about Italy’s role therein. In spite of the fact that the fighting raged across Italian colonial territory, and that Italians made up the bulk of the Axis forces engaged, they are seldom allotted more than a passing mention. This is the case with almost all works in English, and especially those dealing with the period following German intervention, with a few notable exceptions. Moreover, this remains the case regardless of whether these works examine the campaign from an Allied or an Axis viewpoint. There are no works that concentrate specifically on the Italian forces involved in this campaign. What is the reason for this continued omission sixty years later?
There are, quite naturally, many works in English that deal with almost every aspect of the British and Commonwealth contributions to this campaign. Perhaps more surprisingly, there are almost as many that concentrate on the German forces involved. But in all these works the Italian forces remain a shadowy presence, although almost always acknowledged: the records of overall troop strengths and orders of battle make them all too obvious. In terms of their influence on the fighting, however, they are usually dismissed in a few paragraphs that primarily concentrate on describing their many deficiencies. Thereafter they are usually ignored, except to record their defeat or surrender, or to comment on their failure in a particular action. Was this really the full extent of their influence on the North African campaign?
In Britain, many people are familiar with wartime propaganda images of endless lines of dejected Italian prisoners of war being escorted by a single plucky British soldier. This strong visual image was reinforced by contemporary newsreel and newspaper accounts of Italian military incompetence and cowardice, often involving the use of racial stereotypes. This picture was often deliberately contrasted with German military efficiency and ferocity. This produced a strong British prejudice against the Italians very early in the war, which has been constantly reinforced in most histories produced since its end. It was a viewpoint supported by German accounts that were often openly contemptuous of their wartime allies. All of this has left a powerful legacy in English-speaking accounts, in which the Italians are widely seen as a nation of dilettantes, devoid of military skills and entirely lacking in courage. It is high time, however, that this view was re-examined to reveal what, if any, truth lies behind it. It is only by doing so that we will be able to assess what impact the Italians actually had on this campaign.
This process really requires a complete re-evaluation of the Italian economy and the political and military systems, because it was this that effectively restricted Italy’s ability to wage war, whether in North Africa or elsewhere. This is far too ambitious a task for a single author or book, so it is fortunate that a number of authors have already made significant progress in exposing the complex economic, political and military factors that lay behind the poor performance of the Italian armed forces in World War II. They have demonstrated the fundamental weakness of Italian industry, the instability of political leadership under Mussolini, and the inefficiency of the Italian military system at many levels. These works are immensely important in understanding the reasons for Italian military weakness. It still remains, however, to consider what this overall weakness meant to those at the sharp end of war; it is only in this way that we can achieve a realistic assessment of the overall performance of Italian troops on the field of battle. I have chosen to focus my attention on a review of the performance of the Italian armoured divisions – Ariete, Littorio and Centauro – during the North African campaign. The armoured divisions have been selected because they represent an élite force within the Italian Army, and might therefore be expected to represent Italian military effectiveness at its best. This narrow focus will hopefully allow me to study in some detail the impact of wider Italian economic, political and military deficiencies on the actual battlefield performance of these units. In turn this should permit an assessment of their overall effectiveness, which takes account of these larger factors. In the end we should be able to provide a more accurate assessment of the contribution of at least part of the Italian forces to this campaign, and perhaps to offer a reassessment of the established ‘myth’ of Italian military failure.
In the following chapters I will briefly review the economic, political and military background of the Italian Army, drawing heavily on the work of those recorded in the bibliography. This will reveal an Italy completely unprepared for modern war in 1940, but a country that nevertheless became involved to achieve the expansionist aims of Mussolini. I will review the development of the Italian armoured units, guided by the work of the late John Sweet, and consider their composition and armament on the eve of war. I will then move on to my main purpose, to relate and review the performance of Italian armoured units during the long and complex battles of the North African campaign. The story will range from the Western Desert of Egypt in autumn 1940, to the hills of Tunisia in spring 1943. It will consider the role of Italian armoured units in many well-known engagements – Tobruk, Gazala and El Alamein – and in some possibly less well-known encounters at Bir el Gubi and Bir Hacheim. It will also consider their brief but important role in the Tunisian campaign against the Americans. Finally, I will review their overall battlefield performance in the light of their own military weaknesses and their opponents’ strengths. This should reveal whether there really is an Italian predisposition to military incompetence and cowardice, or whether their performance can be traced to real economic, political and military weaknesses. In any event it will, I hope, offer, even to those already familiar with the Desert War, a new and fresh perspective on an otherwise familiar campaign.
This book has proved to be a tougher task than was originally anticipated; it was particularly difficult to obtain and translate some of the Italian source works. However, it has also been a rewarding one. I hope that others will follow and make the Italian operations as familiar a feature of this campaign as those of the Germans and British are already. It is certainly an interesting area, and one that is well worth study.
I would like to thank the following for their assistance: first, the staffs of the National Library of Scotland and Edinburgh University Library, for their help with my research and particularly Jill Evans at NLS for securing some Italian sources from abroad; and David Fletcher and his staff at the Tank Museum, Bovington, for their assistance with original British sources, Italian sources and photographs, and for preserving the only surviving Italian M14/41 medium tank in Britain, which provides a flavour of what the Italians put up with. Thanks are due to the Imperial War Museum and the various organizations and individuals who helped locate the photographs that feature in the book; in particular Ted Neville of TRH Pictures. Thanks are also due to Iain and Stefania Martin who managed to obtain another Italian source for me in Italy and to Robert Adamson for technical advice.
Thanks also to Graham Thompson and Bruce Stewart, who took part in many discussions about this book and to my parents, who have helped with the proof reading at several stages; and to The Crowood Press and all of those who have encouraged me during the writing process. I must, of course, accept the blame for any inadvertent errors or omissions in the finished work. If anyone notices any, particularly where the Italian armoured divisions are concerned, I would appreciate their comments or suggestions for improvement through my publishers.
Finally, I would like to dedicate this book to all of those on both sides who fought in the North African campaign between 1940 and 1943, but especially to those who did not come back.
1
Mussolini’s War
Why were the Italians fighting with Nazi Germany against the British during World War II? Why did the deserts of North Africa become the main arena in which this struggle was played out? Why were the Italians almost entirely unprepared for this conflict? This chapter will attempt to answer these questions, and briefly outline how Italy became involved in a protracted war with Britain before it was ready.
It is probably no coincidence that the states that generated much of the international unrest in the period between 1860 and 1945 were Germany, Italy and Japan. They were new states of the 1860s; Germany and Italy had been formed by the unification of smaller states, and Japan had emerged from centuries of self-imposed isolation. This triad had to find their place in the hierarchy of the established powers: France, Britain, Russia, China and the United States. These had already secured their colonies, their spheres of influence and their economic zones; the new states had none of these things, but they wanted them. They were, naturally, opposed by the established powers, and the result was economic competition, international tension, colonial disputes and, ultimately, open conflict. Germany fought France in 1870, and France, Britain, Russia and the United States in 1914–18. Japan fought China in 1896, Russia in 1905 and Germany in 1914–18. Italy fought Ethiopia in 1896, Turkey in 1911 and Austria-Hungary and Germany in 1915–18. The outcome was a mixture of gains and losses, which left all the new states frustrated, unsatisfied, and still eager for change.
In 1918 Germany, defeated and forced to surrender territory and colonies, was clearly unsatisfied, and almost from the moment of defeat was planning revenge. In contrast, Italy and Japan had been on the winning side, and should have had few complaints. In fact, the Japanese remained frustrated despite securing additional territory. The Western Powers prevented them imposing colonial status on northern China, and treated them as racial inferiors – for example, by restricting Japanese immigration. This inflamed Japanese animosity towards the Western Powers, and fuelled their ambitions in Asia.
How did Italy fare in World War I? In 1914 the Italians had been allied with the Central Powers of Germany and Austria-Hungary. They had naturally gravitated towards Germany, another new state, with whom they shared a common interest in the revision of the status quo. They had been close allies during their respective unification struggles in the 1860s, when German assistance had proved instrumental in securing concessions from Austria-Hungary. This link was the primary reason for Italy’s alliance with the Central Powers, since Italy and Austria-Hungary were natural enemies with little in common. The latter was a polyglot dynastic relic of the Middle Ages, facing decline in an era of nation states. Italy coveted its territory in South Tyrol, Istria and Dalmatia. It was not a situation that provided the basis for a solid alliance, and when World War I erupted in 1914, Italy chose to remain neutral, partly through weakness but also because of her animosity towards Austria-Hungary. However, the bloody deadlock on the Western Front encouraged the rival combatants to tempt Italy into the war to shift the balance in their favour, and in May 1915 the Allied Powers, Britain and France, succeeded by promising, in a secret treaty, to satisfy Italy’s territorial ambitions against Austria-Hungary. As a result, the Italians endured more than three years of bloody fighting against the Central Powers, including a disastrous defeat at Caporetto, which almost forced them out of the war. They recovered with Allied assistance, and in November 1918 inflicted a crushing defeat on the Central Powers at Vittorio Veneto. In the end Italy suffered 650,000 dead, though she now anticipated receiving the rewards promised in 1915.
In the event, while Italy did secure certain territorial gains from Austria-Hungary, these were significantly less than promised by the Allies in 1915. She secured South Tyrol, Istria and Zara on the Dalmatian coast, but was denied Fiume and the rest of Dalmatia. The Italian nationalist poet, Gabriele D’Annunzio, described this as a ‘mutilated victory’, and it caused a great deal of resentment against the Allies, particularly amongst Italian nationalists. In September 1919, D’Annunzio staged a popular paramilitary occupation of Fiume, which the Italian government was unwilling to challenge, and Fiume was quietly absorbed into Italy. It was the first sign that Italian nationalists were not content with the post-war settlement, and were prepared to take direct action to change it.
Another source of Italian nationalist resentment, consequent on Italy’s late appearance on the international scene, was the lack of African colonies. In the 1880s Italy had secured a couple of worthless stretches of desert in East Africa, Eritrea and Italian Somaliland, the scraps left by the other European powers. An Italian military expedition was sent to expand this foothold by conquering the independent kingdom of Ethiopia. In 1896 it met with disaster at Adowa, when 10,000 Italians were massacred by a much larger force of Ethiopians; as a result Italian designs on Ethiopia were effectively shelved. In 1911, Italy seized control of Libya in North Africa from Turkey, but this area, too, was largely desert. The lack of rich colonies and the humiliation of defeat by Ethiopia rankled with many Italians, who were denied the economic and political benefits that usually accrued from the ownership of colonies.
In 1919, therefore, Italy was a nation whose ambitions remained unsatisfied. This was the background to the rumbling discontent of the inter-war years, and to Italy’s involvement in World War II. It did not, however, make an Italian alliance with the other discontented powers, Germany and Japan, inevitable; it merely showed that this triad shared a common dissatisfaction with the status quo that might draw them together. This had not been the case during World War I when they fought on different sides. The alliance of Italy with Nazi Germany and Japan was the result of events during the inter-war period.
In the immediate post-war period the European economy was bankrupt, and fear of imminent Communist revolution stalked Europe. On 28 October 1922, the Italian establishment therefore handed power to Benito Mussolini and his Fascist Party, and left them to deal with Italy’s apparently insoluble economic and political problems. They were well organized and strongly anti-Communist, and could therefore be expected to oppose the threat of revolution. If they failed, they could easily be replaced. Unfortunately they had not placed Italy’s future in safe hands. Mussolini had a strong will and natural belligerence, combined with a somewhat erratic temperament, and he introduced a considerable degree of instability to the heart of government. He was supported by a Fascist Party that was strongly nationalist and militarist. It included many of those who were most anxious for Italy to secure her rightful place in the world, and who would not shrink from using force to achieve their aims. They transformed Italy into a state that sought to increase its power and influence through military force.
The new regime made great play of its dominance of every aspect of Italian life – but it did not achieve as much influence as, for example, would later be secured by the Nazis in Germany. The Italian king, Vittorio Emanuele III, remained head of state and commander-in-chief of the armed forces, which also remained largely independent; thus as prime minister, Mussolini could declare war and provide overall political direction for the armed forces, but he could not command the military in wartime. This restriction clearly rankled, and in the 1930s, Mussolini personally assumed control of all three individual service ministries with the intention of influencing detailed military planning. This actually caused more problems, since no single individual could possibly fill so many roles adequately, and especially not a dilettante like Mussolini. (In contrast, Hitler made himself head of state in Germany, and the armed forces swore allegiance to him personally.) This meant that Mussolini’s power was not solidly based, and he was less able to impose his will on the military. As a result, in July 1943 the king was able to exploit his position as commander-in-chief of an independent military in order to depose Mussolini.
In the 1920s, Italy was a restless nation led by a belligerent demagogue supported by nationalists anxious to change the status quo. It was only the strength of the victorious allies, Britain and France, and Italy’s own weakness, which prevented any overt aggression during that decade. In fact, Italian economic weakness would always restrict Fascist ambitions. In the 1930s, Italy was a nation of forty-four million, not far short of Britain’s forty-eight million, but with a much smaller industrial base in comparison. An indication of this disparity can be gained by comparing production data for Italy, Britain and Germany: Table 1.1 provides comparative figures for production of some key strategic materials, and Table 1.2 comparative figures for military production. The figures show that the Italians were short of many of the raw materials essential for military production, with no significant indigenous sources of iron ore, oil or rubber. The Italian colonies offered neither sources of raw materials nor significant markets for Italian agricultural produce or manufactures. They were a drain on resources, rather than a source of support for the economy. It is ironic that millions of tons of desperately needed oil lay undiscovered beneath the sands of Italy’s otherwise worthless Libyan colony! At the time the Italians had to meet most of their raw material needs through imports, and to expend a high proportion of their national income to purchase these; Table 2 provides details of the levels required of some key materials, and the shortfall in securing these.
These stark economic facts of life meant that Italy had to restrict its ambitions to those that could be fulfilled in a short period of time and without coming into conflict with a great power. Alternatively, if they wanted to be more ambitious they needed to secure the support of one or more powerful allies. In this period, however, potential allies opposed to the post-war settlements, principally Germany and the Soviet Union, were themselves too weak to be of any help. This was the context within which Fascist Italy had to pursue its ambitions for territory and influence. A firm grasp of Italy’s economic limitations should have resulted in a lowering of expectations, but it simply left the Italians more frustrated than ever. Thus in the unfavourable circumstances of the 1920s they were forced to shelve their more aggressive plans – but only until the situation improved.
In the 1930s the situation was completely transformed by the rise of Japan and Germany, who increasingly challenged the established order in pursuit of their own frustrated ambitions. In 1931 Japan occupied Manchuria in north-western China by military force. Britain and France responded with strong words of condemnation, but no retaliatory action. This demonstrated the potential of any power that was prepared to act ruthlessly and ignore diplomatic obstacles, to defy the status quo. However, it was not until 1933, when Adolf Hitler and his Fascist-inspired Nazi Party came to power in Germany and determined to overthrow the post-war settlement, that those Italians seeking to overturn the status quo finally had a potential ally. But in spite of superficial similarities, the fundamental nationalism of the two fascist regimes presented a serious obstacle to any prospective alliance. Thus, the Italians considered German nationalism to be a potential threat to the territories seized from Austria-Hungary, as these contained German-speaking minorities; and the Germans were concerned about Italian influence in Austria, which they themselves wanted to absorb. This tension made early relations difficult, and provided scope for mistrust and misunderstandings. In July 1934 Mussolini dispatched Italian troops to the Austrian frontier when it appeared that Hitler might exploit a Nazi coup in Vienna to occupy Austria. It was only gradually that the fascist regimes were drawn together by their shared interest in overturning the post-war settlement.
In March 1935, Hitler renounced the disarmament clauses of the Treaty of Versailles and revealed the reconstruction of German military power. The European powers, including Italy, met soon afterwards at Stresa to formally condemn Germany; but they took no practical action. This weak response was further undermined by the British, who were prepared to appease Germany to avoid another war: in June 1935 they signed the Anglo-German Naval Agreement, which declared British acceptance of German rearmament and effectively shattered the post-war consensus. They did so without consulting the French or Italians, and so broke the Stresa Agreement before the ink was dry. The instability created by these events presaged the effective abandonment of the post-war system; it also encouraged the Italians to resurrect their own expansionist ambitions, and their covetous gaze quickly fell on Ethiopia.
A great deal of Italian frustration centred on Ethiopia, an undeveloped area blighted by slave trading and other barbarous customs, which the Italians considered it their right and duty to colonize. They were willing to offer the Ethiopians the same benefits that European colonization had brought to the rest of Africa. The British and French declared they had no designs on this area, although – frustratingly for the Italians – they sought to prevent the Italians from occupying it. The Italians could not understand the British public enthusiasm for an independent Ethiopia, which appeared hypocritical in the face of their own colonization of most of the globe. In 1934 a minor dispute on the borders of Italian Somaliland and Ethiopia caused them to resurrect plans for military conquest. The existence of a powerful revisionist Germany meant that Britain and France could no longer simply block Italian plans: they had to be circumspect about opposing Italy for fear of driving her into alliance with Germany. On 30 October 1935, therefore, an Italian army 100,000 strong was launched against Ethiopia on the basis of intelligence that Britain and France would not intervene militarily.
In the campaign that followed the Italians exploited their technological superiority to crush the large but poorly equipped Ethiopian forces: they used aircraft, tanks, artillery, machine guns, flame-throwers, bombs and mustard gas against poorly armed, badly trained and often barefoot tribesmen. The unforeseen possibility of military intervention by Britain made the Italians anxious to complete their conquest quickly – maybe this contributed to their ruthlessness, although it cannot excuse it. The Italians were condemned for this both at the time, and since, although they were behaving much like other European colonial powers before them. On 5 May 1936, the conquest was completed with the occupation of Addis Ababa, and the Italians finally had their empire. It had cost the lives of 2,766 Italians and 1,593 colonial troops on one side, and an estimated 50,000 Ethiopians on the other.
The Italian empire would also have other costs. The first was the economic cost of an Ethiopia that had not been fully pacified and was urgently in need of development. It consisted of a mosaic of different tribes, most of them hostile to each other and to any central authority, and the Italians had to install and maintain a large garrison of colonial troops from Eritrea. In addition they were obliged to improve the infrastructure of the country, initially by constructing the first network of metalled roads. As a result, Italian colonial expenditure rose from under 1 billion lire in 1934 to more than 6 billion in 1938. It was an expense that Italy could ill afford, and its new empire promised to be little more than a drain on resources, at least in the short term.
The wider political consequences of this Italian aggression were also important. In contrast to their appeasement of Germany, the British took a tough line towards Italy, introducing economic sanctions and mobilizing their Mediterranean fleet. This unexpected reaction briefly caused the Italians some anxiety, until they realized that the British could not risk open war in the face of the German threat. It is worth reflecting that if the British had allowed the Italians to occupy Ethiopia without demur, they might have secured a potential ally against Germany. And if, on the other hand, they had taken an even tougher line and imposed oil sanctions or closed the Suez Canal, they might have ended Italian ambitions there and then, and provided Hitler pause for thought. Instead, the British managed to antagonize Mussolini and unite the majority of Italians behind him without affecting military operations in Ethiopia. In addition, in March 1936 Hitler exploited the preoccupation with Ethiopia to reoccupy the demilitarized Rhineland: this was another blow to the post-war settlement. Furthermore, the British hostility towards the Italian occupation of Ethiopia pushed Italy towards Germany.
A common interest in overturning the status quo was beginning to draw Germany and Italy together. In July 1936 Mussolini and Hitler decided independently to exploit the outbreak of a right-wing military revolt in Spain to undermine the left-wing government. They provided increasing levels of assistance to the Nationalist rebels, including large amounts of military equipment and trained ‘volunteers’. In response, Soviet Russia supported the left-wing Republican government with her own military advisers and supplies. The fascist dictators had a common interest in ensuring that the Nationalists under General Franco were not defeated, especially following Soviet intervention. The Italians invested more than the Germans in a Nationalist victory in the hope of securing a counter-weight to France in the western Mediterranean. This participation in a common venture almost inevitably drew the fascist powers closer together. The Italian and German forces sent to fight in Spain worked together and developed close, if not always amicable, relations.
In spite of – or perhaps because of – the scale of foreign intervention, the Spanish Civil War was protracted and only ended in April 1939. The Italians eventually succeeded in securing a friendly regime in the western Mediterranean, but at immense cost. They sent 78,500 men to Spain and suffered 3,819 dead and 12,000 wounded. They also lost a significant amount of military equipment, since everything sent to Spain was left behind: this included 3,400 machine guns, 1,400 mortars, 1,800 artillery pieces, 6,800 vehicles, 160 tanks and 760 aircraft, and it represented a loss to Italy’s war inventory, although most of it was obsolescent. The financial cost of this war was probably more debilitating, amounting to between 6 and 8.5 billion lire, an immense drain at 14 to 20 per cent of annual expenditure. The heavy cost of this war severely handicapped Italy in the period leading up to the outbreak of World War II.
In the meantime, in November 1936 Italy and Germany signed the Anti-Comintern Pact to cement their common interest in opposing Soviet intervention in Spain. The fascist dictators had recognized the common features in their regimes and slowly developed a close, if mismatched, personal association. It was the first sign of the future Axis partnership that was intended to decide the fate of Europe, but instead brought war and ruin to both Italy and Germany. In Germany, Hitler acknowledged Mussolini as his fascist mentor, and respected him as a strong man despite his native Austrian contempt for Italians generally. In turn Mussolini, amidst jealousy of superior German economic and military power, admired Hitler’s ability to exploit political opportunities to overthrow the post-war settlement, as he himself had hoped to do. Mussolini was fast coming to the conclusion that he would only achieve his own expansionist aims by drawing closer to Germany.
In this same period, Britain and France failed to draw Italy back from her increasing closeness to Germany, although they could probably have done so if they had really wanted to. It would have meant concessions on their part, since Italian ambitions were mostly directed at their areas of influence. In the end they were unwilling to make concessions, possibly out of fear that Germany would interpret this as weakness, or because they were doubtful as to whether making such concessions would actually secure Italy’s alliance. The British Foreign Secretary, Anthony Eden, remarked that ‘We are not in a mood to be blackmailed by Italy… If Mussolini thinks he has only to beckon and we will open our arms, he is vastly mistaken.’ In addition the Western Powers did not fear Italy herself, and were perhaps not convinced that Italian assistance against Germany was worth having, although Italian weakness would only be fully exposed after the war began. Whatever the reasons, Britain and France failed to prevent Italy from drifting into an alliance with Germany.
In March 1938 Hitler increased the tempo of international events by annexing Austria. Mussolini, who had sent troops to the frontier back in 1934, was the only man who might conceivably have prevented this, but he was offered nothing by Britain and France that might have persuaded him to act. In contrast, Hitler offered him the prospect of support for Italian territorial ambitions; he therefore did nothing, and allowed Austria to fall into German hands by default. It was a crucial concession, and Hitler declared: ‘Tell Mussolini that whatever happens, I shall never forget his gesture. Even if the entire world were to go up against him, or if he were in danger, he can always count on my support.’ He would prove true to this pledge in September 1943 when he sent commandos to free the fallen Mussolini from imprisonment. In the short term, Hitler personally guaranteed that Germany would not pursue claims to Italian territory with German-speaking minorities. This seemed like a reasonable basis for future co-operation, though unfortunately for Italy, Mussolini, in common with many others, was completely unaware of just how radical Hitler’s policies would prove in practice.
In September 1938 Hitler pressed forwards with his expansionist plans, demanding the surrender of German-speaking Sudetenland from Czechoslovakia. The Czechs were prepared to fight, and the French felt obliged to support them, and seemed to have British and, possibly, Russian backing. International tension reached fever pitch, and it seemed that war was imminent. At this time Italy was still heavily committed to the war in Spain, and was not prepared for a wider European war. Britain was also not prepared to fight, and broached a diplomatic solution. Mussolini leapt at this chance to avert war and achieve a peaceful solution that would satisfy Hitler. The Munich Agreement secured the Sudetenland for Germany with Mussolini’s help and the blessing of Britain and France. There was no desire for war across Europe, and this peaceful outcome to the worst crisis since the end of World War I was almost universally welcomed. The only exceptions were Hitler, who had wanted war, and the Czechs, who had lost any chance of defending themselves against future German aggression. In Italy Mussolini was hailed as a hero, although ironically this adulation did not please him: he wanted to be hailed as a conqueror rather than as a statesman, though he was well aware that Italy was unprepared for full-scale war before 1943 at the earliest. Until then, he could only contemplate a short war that offered Italy significant gains at minimal cost. While Hitler’s intense desire to overthrow the post-war settlement might offer the chance for Italian expansion, it looked increasingly as if it carried with it an escalating risk of war.
This appeared to be confirmed in March 1939 when Hitler tore up the Munich Agreement and occupied the rest of Czechoslovakia. In response, Britain and France could do nothing to save the Czechs, but they were finally sufficiently alarmed by this blatant German perfidy to offer Poland a guarantee against German aggression. This encouraged the Poles to resist Germany, and made the possibility of a peaceful settlement between them unlikely. It seemed that Hitler would have his war by invading Poland, although not quite as he intended. The occupation of Czechoslovakia also encouraged Mussolini into his own ill-considered response. On 7 April 1939, he was persuaded by Count Galeazzo Ciano, his son-in-law and foreign minister, to occupy Albania, virtually an Italian satellite already. This action, that was intended to register Italy’s status as an expansionist power, impressed no one, and furthermore it had a number of unforeseen consequences. It caused Britain and France to issue further guarantees to Greece and Romania a few days later. In addition the Soviet Union made contact with the Western democracies about a potential alliance. It was firmly believed that Germany and Italy were already co-operating on plans for European domination. In fact Mussolini, although strongly drawn towards Germany, remained uneasy about the scope and timescale of Hitler’s plans. It was the possibility that a European alliance was now being formed against them that finally brought Germany and Italy together.
This was the background to the signing of the Pact of Steel between Italy and Germany on 22 May 1939. It was customary for such pacts to be activated by aggression against a signatory. This extraordinary pact committed the signatories to assist each other should either of them engage in a war of aggression: it was designed so they would support each other’s expansionist aims. It provided the Italians with reassurance of German support in pursuit of their own ambitions. More dangerously, it committed Italy to supporting Hitler’s increasingly radical and belligerent agenda, a potentially disastrous arrangement. It appears that Mussolini’s natural inclination to appear aggressive and militaristic persuaded him to accept these terms. The underlying assumption behind the pact, which was extensively discussed during the negotiations, was that neither signatory would be ready for war before 1943 at the earliest. There would be no prospect of the alliance coming into play before then. Unfortunately, although the Italian and German military commanders were working to this timetable, Hitler’s own plans would bring war much sooner.
In the summer of 1939 it became increasingly apparent that Hitler’s actions could lead to war with Poland at any time, and as a consequence of their guarantee, with Britain and France also. This time there would be no repeat of Munich. Hitler was intent on invading Poland, the Poles intended to resist, and Britain and France would almost certainly support them. It seemed that Hitler alone believed that the Western democracies would not fulfil their obligations. He considered that his last-minute non-aggression pact with the Soviets deprived them of any practical way of assisting Poland. In contrast, Mussolini was not convinced that Britain and France would stand aside again, and so it appeared that Italy, under the Pact of Steel, would find herself involved in a war for which she was not prepared. The condition of the Italian armed forces – the navy, the air force and especially the army – at this time made European war a terrible prospect for Italy.
The Italian armed forces suffered from significant weaknesses at the highest level. As noted above, Mussolini was ultimately responsible for military policy and planning. He had also held for a time the ministries responsible for the policy and planning of the three individual services: army, navy and air force. In May 1940, the king would grant his long-held wish by delegating the functions of commander-in-chief to him for the duration of the war, a post that also made him responsible for the wartime command of the armed forces. This was a formidable concentration of power in the hands of one man – although the reality was rather different. A corporal in World War I, Mussolini had no personal experience of command, and had to rely on military professionals in whom he had little confidence or trust. He held too many posts to be able to fulfil the duties of any of them adequately; he also had a natural aversion to administrative work, and he suffered frequent mood swings. The result was erratic changes in military policy, and a lack of consistency in the overall direction of the war.
This might have been of less consequence had the Italians possessed an adequate high command. Instead they had the grandly titled Comando Supremo, which consisted of a small staff that could do little more than inform the individual service commands of Mussolini’s general intentions. It was left to the individual service commands to develop these into proper orders and commands, using their own staffs. As a result there was no central direction of plans, preparations or operations at the highest level. This duty was undertaken by the three individual service staffs, which tended to work independently and so focused narrowly on their own fields. There was little or no inter-service co-operation, and this was not a suitable structure either for preparations for war or for wartime command.
The Regia Marina, or navy, was arguably the best funded and best equipped of the three services, and its overall structure was basically sound. It had six battleships, although this was in a period when these were an indicator of national status. It has been condemned, unjustly, for its lack of aircraft carriers, at a time when the potential impact of air power on naval operations was little understood. In fact the central position of Italy in the Mediterranean meant that land-based aircraft could support the fleet. The real failure was that air units had not been trained to operate with the fleet, and the navy suffered as a result. The fleet had originally been built to contest control of the Mediterranean with France, but was never asked to do so. It had been expanded after 1935 on the premise that it would have to fight against Britain, though its commanders remained reluctant to entertain this possibility. They had immense respect for the traditions and capabilities of the Royal Navy, and a distinct inferiority complex.
The apparent strength of the Italian navy concealed weaknesses that would undermine its actual performance. It suffered from fundamental flaws in the areas of ship design, training and gunnery. The majority of its surface ships were designed for speed and gun power, at the expense of protection, and this made them vulnerable to enemy fire. They had been built for fleet actions, but in practice these were few and far between, and they spent most of their time protecting supply convoys to North Africa. Most of its large force of 113 submarines had large conning towers and heavy guns for action on the surface. This made them slow to dive and easily visible underwater in the clear Mediterranean, and therefore extremely vulnerable to air attack. They were designed to sink independent merchant ships, but the British merchant ships in the Mediterranean always travelled as part of heavily escorted convoys. In common with the other services, the Italian navy suffered from a lack of practice, as training was often curtailed in order to save expense on fuel and ammunition. In consequence, opportunities for fleet manoeuvres and live firing were minimal, and there was no training for night actions. As a result, Italian naval commanders remained unaware of the poor concentration of their gunnery salvos and the unreliability of their shells, which often failed to explode.
In fact the Italians might have been able to alter the naval balance decisively in their favour if they had used an entirely Italian-designed secret weapon. This was the maiale, or pig, a modified torpedo crewed by divers, who would covertly approach major warships underwater and attach mines to them. This weapon would prove a great success, and spectacularly sank two British battleships in December 1941. It had first been developed during the Ethiopian crisis in 1935 to use against the British navy, and could easily have been ready for action in 1940. Instead, it was mothballed almost as soon as the crisis passed, and its development was not resumed until after the war had started. This was a serious mistake by short-sighted senior officers, and one which severely delayed the employment of this secret weapon.
The Regia Aeronautica, or air force, was a well funded Fascist creation. Unfortunately, a great deal of this funding had been squandered on a range of newsworthy record-breaking feats, rather than being invested in constructing a balanced, modern air force. The new service had also been influenced by the theories of General Giulio Douhet, the enthusiastic advocate of air power, and this had skewed its development. It had been expanded significantly to support the Ethiopian war, but these aircraft subsequently experienced significant attrition in Spain. As a result, in April 1939 it was revealed that the air force was but a pale shadow of what it had appeared. Its commander, General Giuseppe Valle, had been inflating the number of aircraft on strength by including obsolete and damaged aircraft, in order to secure a larger share of military expenditure. However, its operational strength stood at only 30 per cent of its reported establishment of 3,000 aircraft. This scandal resulted in the downfall of Valle; but this did nothing to rectify the shortage of modern aircraft.
The quality of Italian aircraft stood below that found in the rest of Europe: although Italian industry designed beautiful airframes, it appeared incapable of producing powerful aero engines. As a consequence, all Italian aircraft were underpowered, and many were tri-motor designs because two engines were insufficient. In 1940 Italy had no operational dive bombers until the purchase of German Stukas in August, and it was only after Germany agreed to permit licence production of their aero engines that Italy began to catch up. The Macchi MC 202, first produced in August 1940 with a German engine, proved an excellent aircraft, and one that would do much to restore Italian strength in the air.
The air force also suffered from a lack of training, particularly in navigation and night flying. The experience in the Ethiopian and Spanish fighting proved less beneficial than expected. The war that started in 1940 was fought against modern aircraft operating with the benefits of radio control and radar warning. The belief that fast bombers needed no escort was shown to be mistaken against modern fighters operating under radar direction. The highly manoeuvrable Fiat CR32 biplane was a success in Spain, and the continued use of this design in modern war seemed to be justified. An improved Fiat CR42 biplane was therefore introduced into widespread service in 1939 – only to be revealed as obsolete against modern monoplane designs.
The Regio Esercito, or army, was the largest but also the most neglected of the services. It was a large force with an establishment of some seventy-two divisions, compared to the thirty-four divisions of the British army, but it still fell well short of Mussolini’s boast of ‘eight million bayonets’. This was illusion, however, since as late as January 1942 only 50 per cent of these divisions had their full establishment, while the rest stood at half strength. The majority were marching infantry with minimal firepower and limited mobility. There were only three armoured divisions, two motorized divisions, and seventeen so-called ‘lorried’ divisions. The last were little more than infantry units with some attached motor transport. In addition, all of these Italian divisions were so-called ‘binary’ divisions, consisting of two infantry regiments rather than the three found in most other armies. This made Italian infantry divisions nearer in size to a British brigade or a German regiment, a point often overlooked by military historians.
It might have been better for the Italians to have fielded a smaller number of better equipped divisions, and the manpower released could have been re-allocated to industry or agriculture. This idea had been advocated by Marshal Italo Balbo, the Fascist Air Minister, in 1933: he proposed a completely mobile force of twenty divisions, equipped with the latest weaponry and trained in amphibious warfare. But the proposal was swiftly rejected by Mussolini and senior army figures: Mussolini was jealous of Balbo and wanted large numbers of divisions to intimidate opponents. The military men also wanted large numbers, to maintain their prestige and their share of military expenditure. It was an opportunity lost, although it is likely that Balbo’s complete plan was beyond Italian resources.
The Italian army also had problems with poor or obsolescent equipment in many areas. On the outbreak of war, the army had to curtail a long-planned replacement of its obsolescent artillery, and persevere with some 10,000 antiquated weapons of limited range and striking power. An additional 7,000 artillery pieces were produced during the war, but almost 50 per cent were small calibre – 20mm and 47mm – weapons. They were also in the midst of replacing their standard 6.5mm rifle, which lacked stopping power, with an improved 7.35mm model. They therefore went to war with two different calibres, each requiring its own ammunition, a situation that presented significant supply problems. The Italian soldier was burdened with several other poorly designed weapons, including their light machine gun, grenades, light mortar and landmines. It was not all negative, however, as they had some excellent weapons, notably their 9mm Beretta pistol and submachine gun, though unfortunately this added another calibre of ammunition to the supply lists. They also had a good quality, 80mm heavy mortar, and an excellent 20mm Breda multi-purpose infantry gun. The condition of Italian armour will be discussed in the next chapter.
The training of the Italian army was severely restricted by budgetary and fuel constraints, and often consisted of little more than marching and drill. There was very little live firing practice, which meant that many men fired their weapons for the first time in actual combat. There were also few divisional or larger unit exercises, with the exception of some of the annual manoeuvres, which meant that many officers, NCOs and men lacked experience relevant to battlefield conditions. The relatively small pool of older men who had served in Ethiopia or Spain, experienced a different kind of combat from that faced in World War II. Thus the bulk of the Italian troops that fought in World War II received much of their training at the front, when it was often too late to be of use for many of them.
The Italian army also had a large number of older senior officers and a comparative shortage of experienced junior officers and NCOs. This situation had arisen because older officers had been retained in post at senior levels, instead of being posted to the reserve and replaced with younger men. This problem was exacerbated by the switch to a larger number of ‘binary’ divisions by increasing the number of senior posts for these older officers. This left few promotion opportunities for younger officers with more open minds and experience of modern warfare, and it reinforced the basic conservatism of the army and its resistance to change and new ideas. It also made the army unattractive to many ambitious younger men seeking a challenging career. In contrast, the ruthless reduction of the German army under the Versailles Treaty removed older officers and made way for younger men with new ideas when it expanded in the 1930s.
In the light of all of this it is hardly surprising that Mussolini baulked at entering a European war in August 1939. This alarming prospect brought him to his senses, and he immediately sought a way out of this predicament. In this he was supported by the entire Italian establishment and by the public at large. He wrote to Hitler reaffirming his commitment, but setting out a long list of requirements considered essential before Italy could enter a general European war. The list ranged from quantities of steel and oil to large numbers of heavy anti-aircraft guns. It amounted in total to 170,000 tonnes of material and would have required 17,000 trains to transport it. It was, Ciano noted, ‘Enough to kill a bull’. The tactic proved successful, and Hitler, who still believed that Britain and France would not intervene, let his partner off the hook. He was also fully aware of the state of the Italian armed forces and did not think he would need their assistance.
On 3 September 1939, when Germany invaded Poland and the wider European war erupted, Mussolini was again hugely popular for keeping Italy out of it. But Mussolini was humiliated by this retreat and attempted to disguise Italian neutrality – a reminder of 1914 – by declaring Italy ‘non-belligerent’, which allowed him to register nominal support for Germany. It was widely anticipated that this new war would develop into a long struggle between evenly matched opponents, as in 1914. This would allow Italy to complete her preparations and enter the war at an opportune moment, which would maximize her contribution to final Axis victory.
