Evening star., 1943-07-12

anti-aircraft fire from ships and
shore was terrific and the sky was
brimful of red balls and tracers.
The troops were we'll dug-in
ashore and the bombers could not
touch them except by direct hits. I
watched the raid from a clifftop
overlooking the bay, lying in slit
trench under. fiery curtain of fax,
The RAF has been giving us
fighter protection and you hear the
drone of Spitfires practically all the
time during the day.
The ships have barrage balloons
up and it looks like part of London.
Thousands of Troops Landed.
Thousands and thousands of
troops poured in on the bridgehead
after the successful assault and
vehicles, guns, stores and ammuni-
ton have been rushed to the
beaches.
Earlier we had all been getting
a little -jumpy, for it looked like
suicide to try to land in the wild
sea. We had the evening meal and
were becoming reconciled to a posi-
BILE postponement. But when dark
ness fell we were still heading for
the southwest tip of Sicily.
Hundreds upon hundreds Of other
ships and warships were around us
the greatest convoy ever to sail to
the attack. There were ships as
far as you could see. About 10 pm.
the wind suddenly dropped and the
whitecaps disappeared. The gale
had been one of those queer storms
they get in the Mediterranean dur
ing the summer. Sometimes they do
not last long. and this one didn't.
The high command gambled on
the wind falling ng-undoubtedly it had
the weather "taped"-and won. Then
the big convoy broke up. The Amer
leans headed off for the Celia
beaches. We sailed right ahead
under first-quarter moon that
gilded the ocean. The sky was clear
and crowded with stars.
Start Ashore at l AM.
At l am. we went down the side
of our ship in an assault landing
craft and hit the swell which lifted
us high in the air. We rocked about
and moved among the ships which
now we're anchored a number of
miles off Pachino Peninsula. Finally
we located our motor launch and
clambered aboard. My trouble was
I had my typewriter, waterproofed
with adhesive tape for the plunge
from the sandbar to the beach.
Slowly the assault landing craft
gathered around us for the run in.
There were scores of these 40-foot
craft pouncing about on the swell.
Many of the troops we're seasick in
them.
Through megaphone, our COM
mander on our little, leaping motor
launch told the flotillas destined
for our beach to follow him, and we
started off. Other fiotillas sped off
noiselessly for other beaches. Brit
ish commandos were on the Ca
madam left flank and another Brit
tsh formation on the right.
Crack units were to land first
and destroy coastal battery
Ahead of us we could see a glare in
the sky. The air attack and naval
bombardment had set Pachino
ablaze. Wooden buildings in the
town of $1,000 population were burn
ing.
First Men Land.
Some Royal Canadian Engineers
from Nova Scotia and two COM
panies of an Ontario regiment were
touching down ahead of us. There
were spurts of machine gun bullets
at their boats. Then I heard our
Bren guns. The Brens have a dis
tinctive knocking sound like a stick
striking an oak door.
Canadians were in action.
Dawn was creeping up as I trans
ferred from the motor launch to a
landing craft for beaching. The
typewriter was still tagging along
somehow Just then tank landing
craft bringing up the first wave
of an Ontario regiment came up
and in we went. Naval craft were
laying a smoke screen for us and
gunflre from destroyers, a cruiser
and monitor dinned in our ears.
Some beach defenses were still
pegging away with their final shots
before being wiped out. A costal
battery halfway between the beach