Members of the Same Australian Flight Crew
(Pilot,
Navigator, Radio Operator, Gunner)
Connecticut
Yanks and Unsung Heroes
Memorial
Day is already a month past, but I’m still
thinking about it. Memorial Day, once
known as Decoration Day, is today a federal holiday in the United States. On this day we pause to remember every man
and woman who made the ultimate sacrifice and have given their lives in service
to our country’s armed forces. As such,
it is much more than an annual passage into “white-glove” season heralding the unofficial
beginning of summer, a day off from school, specials on car sales, or deep
discounts on big screen 4K TVs.
Many
countries have similar solemn remembrances, rooted in
their wartime history, where they take time to reflect on their fallen heroes: In Australia/New Zealand “Anzac Day” occurs on
the anniversary of the disaster following the ill-fated battle at Gallipoli during WW I, while the Turks, on the
opposite side of the Gallipoli front, observe “Martyrs Day” in memory of their
victory over the Allied Powers on that same battlespace. The United Kingdom observes “Remembrance
Sunday”; the French celebrate “Armistice Day”. In the Netherlands, if you can pronounce it,
it is called Dodenherdenking,
which in Dutch means “remembrance of the dead” 1. It commemorates those Dutch civilians and soldiers
who died in conflicts since WW II began. Much in the news, South
Korea observes a minute of silence on 6 June when the Korean War began, for it
still hasn’t ended … and there are many others across the globe. While many a story of personal gallantry is
known, the medals duly bestowed, I suspect far more heroic stories remain
untold. For this reason, all are
remembered this day, from the unheralded soldier who fell on an invasion beach
to the men of an overrun foxhole on some forgotten coral atoll.
At
the Makawao Veterans Cemetery in the Philippines, a
helicopter drops thousands upon thousands of rose petals on the tombstones of
17,000 deceased, the Americans among them marked by a small American flag.2 I have never been to the Philippines. I mean, I’ve never been physically on the
ground there, but I’ve been to its coordinates many times on missions inbound
to Viet Nam. Young and wide-eyed then, I
vividly recall looking down through the windscreen at a smoking volcano on Mindanao
as we flew on into the South China Sea.
Those missions began for me in 1971, coincidentally the year when
Memorial Day became an official federal holiday, although it informally began
following the American Civil War when the idea to “decorate” a soldier’s grave first
became popular. There was another
American soldier, however, of the same name, my name, Paul Monico, who visited
the Philippines earlier than I in another war.
My
namesake was a Second Lieutenant in the United
States Army (www.dpaa.mil). In a coincidence of the unexpected, not only did
we share the same name, but we came from the same state of Connecticut. I was stunned to learn of him, about as
surprised as when a waiter in San Antonio, Texas, gave me my bill with my name written
on it. When I asked if he was prescient
enough to know my name, he replied that it was in fact his name. Can my name be that common? Especially when spelled with an “i”. I never
thought so. I discovered that Lt. Monico
was assigned to the 3rd Infantry Regiment as a Philippine Scout. Taken prisoner, he most likely took part in
the infamous Bataan Death March during the Second World War. Lt. Monico endured that horrific ordeal only
to die on 7 Sept 1944 aboard the Japanese tramp steamer, the SS Shinyo Maru. Paul was among the 663 American prisoners of
war who perished either from a torrent of machine gun fire while fighting the
ship’s guards or shortly thereafter, unable to evade the gunfire and escape, when
the ship sank after being torpedoed off the island of Mindanao by an American
submarine, USS Paddle.3 Tragedy seemed to have befriended
him. This colossal friendly-fire incident
was due to faulty intelligence that had reported Japanese soldiers aboard the Shinyo Maru, not prisoners of war. This same name and home-state coincidence was
too bizarre for me to fathom. Separated by a generation, little did
I realize that the paths of two Monicos, oddly both from Connecticut, intersected
each time I’d return and cross that fateful stretch of the Sulu Sea.
If
I may ramble just a little … “Sulu” happened to
be the name of the helmsman of the starship USS
Enterprise, a name chosen by the creator of the Star Trek series, Gene Roddenberry, for none other than this same Sulu
Sea. He actually selected the
character’s name while looking at a map.
Yes, I was once a “trekkie”. I,
along with the rest of the cadet wing (it seemed in fact the entire nation),
once upon a time, used to watch a weekly dose of Star Trek at the Air Force Academy.
Another interesting factoid, if I may continue just a bit longer, is
that it was while at the fictitious Starfleet Academy that the future captain
of the Starship Enterprise, James Tiberius Kirk (yes, that “T” was for
Tiberius), outdid a test designed to be unbeatable. Here a space freighter fabrication, verses a
real one afloat, this Maru the Kobayashi
Maru, was part of the curriculum to gage a command-track cadet’s
character. No matter the strategy taken,
no matter what actions he/she took, the scenario was rigged to ensure that the
candidate would lose in this no-win situation. Its intent was to observe how participants
reacted to the loss of life and the death of those they commanded. Only by stepping outside the rules of the game
did Cadet Kirk beat the simulation by reprogrammed the rules of the game. The general reaction was that he had cheated
but surprisingly Kirk was commended for original thinking or what we might
refer to as “thinking outside the box.” Likewise,
for the prisoners aboard the Shinyo Maru,
each faced a similar no-win situation - die trying to escape the ship or drown
as the Maru went under. They had no ability to reprogram their
situation and cheat death. It was the
real world at war. In the end, only 82 of
750 POWs managed to beat an unethical set of rules and survive. The actions of other POWs and their deaths in
overcoming the guards had undoubtedly helped clear the way, their unrecognized heroic
deeds making it possible that others might escape. How each survivor would carry this burden the
remainder of their lives, their thoughts “why me”, is certainly worthy of a
case study analysis, if any are still with us.
Philippine Scout, 2nd Lt. Paul Monico, Officer #890210, US Army, unfortunately
having suffered and endured so much, was not among the handful who
survived. If he had, he would have
returned to Connecticut about the time I was born.
But I see I’ve drifted some, entirely off the planet in fact “… to a galaxy far, far away”. In Italy, about the time the Shinyo Maru sank and Lieutenant Monico’s premature demise, the war in Italy was at a stalemate. In February ’44, Winston Churchill had written a critical letter to the supreme commander-in-chief of allied operations in Italy. In it he said he expected to see, in his words, “a wild cat roaring”, but by that point he’d seen nothing but a “whale wallowing on the beaches.” 4 Winston was referring to the status of “Operation Shingle”, the amphibious landing at Anzio the month earlier which had hoped to break the stalemate in Southern Italy. Facing brutal resistance, the Allies were unable to break out of their beachhead. As Winston had put it, they were essentially whales stuck on the beaches, a situation that held until late in May of that year (following the deaths of over 7000 Allied soldiers), along with the capture of Monte Casino, as German troops retreated farther north to new defensive lines.
But I see I’ve drifted some, entirely off the planet in fact “… to a galaxy far, far away”. In Italy, about the time the Shinyo Maru sank and Lieutenant Monico’s premature demise, the war in Italy was at a stalemate. In February ’44, Winston Churchill had written a critical letter to the supreme commander-in-chief of allied operations in Italy. In it he said he expected to see, in his words, “a wild cat roaring”, but by that point he’d seen nothing but a “whale wallowing on the beaches.” 4 Winston was referring to the status of “Operation Shingle”, the amphibious landing at Anzio the month earlier which had hoped to break the stalemate in Southern Italy. Facing brutal resistance, the Allies were unable to break out of their beachhead. As Winston had put it, they were essentially whales stuck on the beaches, a situation that held until late in May of that year (following the deaths of over 7000 Allied soldiers), along with the capture of Monte Casino, as German troops retreated farther north to new defensive lines.
It had been a tough
slog on the beaches at Salerno. That assault stretched
south along the coast as far as the archeological ruins and temples at Paestum
(Poseidonia), a major city of Magna Graecia (Greater Greece). There had been no tactical surprise. On D-Day of the Salerno landings, 9 Sept 1943,
as the first wave of the US 36th Infantry Division approached the
beach at Paestum at 03:30, a loudspeaker from shore announced in English: “Come
on in and give up. We have you covered.”
5 The element of surprise,
that had been anticipated by not conducting a preliminary shore bombardment,
was naught. On the initial landing
alone, a high cost was incurred as eighteen LST landing craft were hit.
To the north of the
Americans, closer to Salerno, in the vicinity of Pontecagnano, when
the British 56th Infantry Division went ashore, they were met by stiff
enemy resistance in the form of withering fire and intense shelling. They were pinned down on the beaches. On “Beach Brick” the British “had great difficulty in organizing its
beachhead. Although the shingle and sand beach was good, and the exits
satisfactory, the routes inland were narrow and flanked by ditches. Moreover
enclosures, patches of wood, swampy ground, and irrigation channels abounded. The build-up on the beaches went briskly, but
to clear them was another matter, and the congestion became acute.” 6 Winston’s vivid illusion to whales floundering
on the beach easily comes alive in this context.
“It was planned to fly in not later than D+6 a total of 12 squadrons of American Mustangs, Spitfires and Kittyhawks, eight squadrons of R.A.F. Spitfires, half a squadron of R.A.F. Beaufighter night-fighters and elements of one American Mustang and one R.A.F. Spitfire Tac. R squadron. …” 7
 |
| Salerno War Cemetery |
“It was planned to fly in not later than D+6 a total of 12 squadrons of American Mustangs, Spitfires and Kittyhawks, eight squadrons of R.A.F. Spitfires, half a squadron of R.A.F. Beaufighter night-fighters and elements of one American Mustang and one R.A.F. Spitfire Tac. R squadron. …” 7
Coincidentally, the
day of the invasion was the same day the armistice between the Italians and the
Allies was made public (signed six days earlier on 3 Sept). 8 It
marked a turning point in Italian history as the Italians switched sides to re-enter
the war on the side of the Allies, even though one newspaper went so far as to announce
that the war was over! The Germans
immediately attacked the Italian forces.
In the confused melee, the Germans had the added burden of disarming 1,000,000
of their former allies. The Italians, no
doubt confused since for secrecy reasons no clear orders had been issued in
advance as to how to conduct themselves, saw some units surrender, some go
home, others remain loyal to their fascist allies or flip to assist the Allies.
Our
little town of Calitri, across the backbone
of the Apennines, way inland from the main thoroughfare of battle along the
coastal plain farther west, saw German forces retreat through the Ofanto Valley
sometime after the earlier Allied amphibious landings in Salerno. I’ve heard stories of a German tank in the
narrow lanes at the bottom of the Calitri borgo. At one point, I’m told it got so narrow, one
of its tracks climbed the wall of the street as it attempted to push
through. Apparently important documents
had been stolen and the Germans were on the hunt for them. A monstrous panzer tank in the medieval
Borgo, where everyone lived at the time, seemed a little much, but it got the
necessary attention. Eventually the
thief got the message and through the intercession of the local priest, if not
God, the leather briefcase and whatever it contained (plans?) were
returned. As the Germans moved on, war
departed Calitri.
Although
not the scene of any major battles, Calitri is
surrounded by a history of military strife spanning centuries. A slight clarification may be in order here
for during WW II Calitri was the site of the first ever Allied paratrooper drop
of the war. On 9 Feb 1941, months before
American involvement in the war began, eight Whitley bombers from Malta carried
commandos of X Troop of the No. 11 Special Air Service Battalion on a surprise
assault on what was considered an important target. All told, from among the various aircraft of “Operation
Colossus”, 35 men jumped in the night to temporarily seize and destroy a
strategic aqueduct on the outskirts of Calitri. 9
While no battles ensued and loss of life was limited to one paratrooper,
the Italian interpreter, all were captured and held prisoner for the duration
of the war.
Not far from Calitri, to the west,
along the ridge of the lovely Sele River valley that we occasionally drive through
from Lioni to the sulphur springs of Contursi Terme, is the small municipality
of Senerchia. As a crow flies, it is
about 25 miles inland from the coastal city of Salerno and overlooks the Sele
River that unfortunately divided the British from American forces on 9 Sept
1944 on the beaches of “Operation Avalanche”.
Coincidentally, this same river feeds the Calitri aqueduct. Its name, “Senerchia”, stems from "Sena
Herclae”, Latin for "Bosom of Hercules” and may signify it was of Greek origin.
But Senerchia’s fame is derived from
another source. In military history,
Senerchia is known as the site of the final defeat of the gladiator/slave army
of Spartacus, thought to be a Thracian from the present region of Bulgaria. In 73 BC, Spartacus along with about 78 others
escaped from a ludus (gladiator
school) in Capua operated by lanista Gnaeus
Cornelius Lentulus Batiatus, located north of Naples and initially took refuge on
Mount Vesuvius.10 We know little of Spartacus, especially of
how he came to become a slave. Such
vagary is bread and butter to Hollywood filmmakers and license for many blood
and guts dramatizations. We do know that
his exploits and early victories over multiple Roman legions soon attracted an
army of 80,000 or more former slaves, the last of whom eventually fought to their
death against a stronger Roman force there in Senerchia in 71 BC. Thus, the Slave War or Third Servile War ended
at Senerchia.11 While his motives may place him far more than a
community organizer and far less than a freedom fighter for the oppressed with
the goal to end slavery, he remains to this day an enigma. In today’s Senerchia, a small town of just
over 1000 inhabitants, rebuild in a modern style after the great earthquake of
1980 that saw the city crumble, as did Calitri, there is no plaque to mark the
event. However, there is a memorial park
of sorts to “The Buzzer”, a WW II B-24 Liberator bomber, its crew of five, and eleven
passengers (seven of whom had survived their 50-mission tour and were going home).12
When it had arrived
brand-new from Savannah
Georgia in January 1944, putting it through its paces had seen it make a high
speed, low pass only feet off the ground at the Grottaglie
airfield, a base near Taranto on the heel of the Italian boot. The maneuver earning it the nickname “Buzzer”. The aircraft, thus christened, went on to survive seventy-seven harrowing bombing missions all over Europe
with the 449th Bomb
Group at Grottaglie. War-weary, it had been “put
out to pasture” as they say and converted to a troop carrier to ferry passengers
and shuttle supplies.
The
Buzzer slammed into a mountain peak near the town in dismal weather in December of
1944. The cause remains unknown – could
it have been off course, flying too low in a mountainous
area? Had her loss been due to weather, icing, or some
malfunction? In an instant, all sixteen
airmen aboard perished during what was a routine ferry flight from Grottaglie to
Naples. The winter was five months passed before the wreckage was discovered in a deep crevasse. It was a former “Buzzer” ball turret gunner, who
had thrown the dice 50 times and survived to go home, who campaigned for and
funded the memorial. After ten years of search, related travel, and campaigning for
support, that the memorial was formerly dedicated on June 29, 2003.
 |
| The Buzzer Memorial, Senerchia, Italy |
Liberator Bombers were
produced in greater numbers and in more
versions than any other US aircraft during WWII (18,188 built).13 Today, there are only four Liberators in the
US, one of which, a B-24D the “STRAWBERRY BITCH”, is on display at the Air
Force Museum at Wright-Patterson
AF Base, Ohio. As an aside, in
this age of hypersensitivity and delicate feelings, if you want to see it, you
might want to hurry before, historic or not, someone complains about the name. With so many produced, you can imagine that
there were many more B-24 bases in Italy.
One of these bases once rested outside our window on the other side of
Mount Vulture in Venosa, a mountain that bomber crewmembers nicknamed “Old Sawtooth”
because of its distinctive shape. The
many times we’ve driven to the Venosa Co-op for a fill-up on bulk wine, we had
no idea that there was once a B-24 base in the fields outside the town. Its runway was about 3,800 feet long and sloped about fifty
feet, so they took off going down-hill and landed going up-hill. This helped, for a fully loaded B-24 required
about 5,000 feet of runway. The runway
was covered with a blanket of PSP (pierced steel plank) matting, each 10 feet
long and 15 inches wide, hinged like modern day flooring, one to another, that
prevented aircraft from floundering in the mud when the field flooded. Today, no trace of that runway remains, a
derelict quonset hut the sole relic of a forgotten
base. Activity began there in September of 1943, following the Salerno
landing, and operations began in March of 1944. The Third Reich was within range, but it came
at a heavy price to the 485th Bomb Group stationed there. In its fifteen months of operation, the unit’s
history notes that 475 men were killed in combat or died
of combat-related injuries while 250 were captured after being shot down.
 |
| Venosa Airfield, WW II |
 |
| B-24 Bombers at Venosa, Italy |
Like the US, Italy has
its own Memorial Day.
On November 4th, Italy observes “National Unity and Armed
Forces Day”. The date recalls the day
Austria-Hungary surrendered to the Italians in 1918. The day is accompanied by ceremonies commemorating members
of the armed forces killed in service to their country. In Calitri, its
fallen heroes are remembered this day at the local war monument adjacent to the
Post Office. The mayor and the town
priest say a few words and a wreath is laid at the base of the monument to the accompaniment
of the town band, while the town citizenry, many of whom are proud veterans of
elite units, look on.
 |
| A Proud Calitri Veteran |
The
Bersaglieri (Marksmen) are
one of those elite units. It remains
today a highly mobile infantry unit of the Italian Army. It was during WWI that a Bersaglieri trooper,
destined to become a future Italian leader, one Benito Mussolini, was wounded. Beyond their military abilities, they are
known for their distinctive, wide-brimmed hats decorated with long, black
capercaillie feathers (a type of grouse).14 They are further renowned for a particular
style of pageantry, for instead of
marching, the entire unit jogs at a brisk
clip. You can take a look here. You have to wonder how long they can keep
that up, especially for the guys blowing the trumpets! Hopefully, the Bersaglieri are positioned at
the beginning of a parade, or otherwise, as is the etiquette between groups of
golfers, at least allowed to play through.
Our Calitri friend, Giuseppe DiMaio, who owns the vineyard where we look
forward to picking grapes each October, was once a member of this select unit when he was on active duty. Even today,
he remains a member of the retired National Bersaglieri Association. I’ve never seen him move that fast in the
vineyard, and thankfully, we’ve never had to work to that tempo. Once upon a time, when they actually stomped
grapes by foot, being in jogging shape may have helped. Today, it’s more of a mechanized process at
the flip of a switch, though I’d like to think that each time I raise my
wineglass at the post grape-picking festa,
that follows in Giuseppe’s cantina, and tears of laughter “run” down my face, I
can log off the up-down arm movement as exercise.
 |
| Giuseppe and Maria Elena |
In
a galaxy, far, far away, ours to be exact, on
a planet, again let it be ours, wars have raged to determine who rules since man
could first communicate and organize. Rule
by divine right gradually gave way to human rights, and wars fought. For Spartacus, since his motives remain
unknown, I can take author’s license and assume he fought the status quo of
slavery that oppressed individual freedom.
Many more wars followed for the right to rule and for whether your god
was better than my god. Lt Monico fought
the “ism” of Imperialism, the B-24 crews in Italy, Fascism, while Denny and I
fought on the side of Capitalism against Communism.
If there could ever be a memorial ceremony
where the names of the fallen could be read aloud, it would take a lifetime or
more to complete. While one of the names
would be Philippine Scout, 2nd Lt Paul Monico, another would be Ltc.
Denny Whalen, my old B-52 navigator, coincidentally
another Connecticut Yankee. In another war during “Operation Linebacker”,
high above the mud and heat of Viet Nam, Denny had steered me safely through
the night skies over Hanoi and Lang Dang in 1972. Denny passed in January 2018 but not before
his career vaulted him to the edge of space at Mach 3 as an RSO (Reconnaissance
Systems Officer) aboard an SR-71 Blackbird.
He was one of the elite, one of 168 very special people to fly
operational missions for the USAF aboard an SR-71, the most daring aircraft yet
conceived. The
navigator in him once said, “You don't know what lost is until it’s happening
at 35 miles a minute.” I couldn’t even
approach thinking that fast. God forbid
if you overshot a waypoint and had to turn around at that speed. To pull it off, the ground track would likely
cover a few states! Although he
never said much about this part of his career, in 1986 he and his pilot flashed
over Libya to assess the damage following the raid on Colonel Gaddafi ordered
by President Ronald Reagan in retaliation for the West Berlin discotheque
bombing. High, fast, and brave, I’ll
miss him greatly.
 |
| My Former Navigator D. Whalen (rt) |
 |
| Calitri War Memorial |
For
what economic, political, or religious cause will future
men fight and die? I sometimes wonder at
the inanity of it all, if it is not all for naught. But we are what we are today because of the heroic
deeds of men from Spartacus, a B-24 ball turret gunner, and men like Denny in
spacesuits hurtling through the edge space.
Assuredly, there will be other stalwart men at arms when needed, and with
their passing, like all before them, a trace of their memory will endure in a shade of larger meaning in
the ceremonies and memorials around the globe.
War is nasty business. I pay
tribute to all those who sacrificed in war to allow me the freedom to go where
I want, when I want, to say and think what I want, and do as I want. It is a fantastic privilege sought by
countless souls starved for freedom throughout history yet which few have
attained. In Italy, their historic sediment
runs far deeper than ours, far more wars fought or endured. They don’t go out of their way to thank their
veterans for their service as is so common here nowadays. As a veteran, I don’t think to say it myself to
other veterans, but here and now, let me say, thank you for your service and
sacrifice, and to all, god-speed.
From that Rogue Tourist
1.
“Remembrance of the Dead”,
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Remembrance_of_the_Dead
2. “Memorial
Day and Filipino Veterans”, http://filamvoicemaui.com/memorial-day-and-filipino-veterans/
3. “Shinyo
Maru Incident”, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shin%27y%C5%8D_Maru_incident
4. “Anzio Landings”, https://www.secondworldwarhistory.com/anzio-landings.asp
5. “Operation Avalanche”, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Operation_Avalanche
6.
“Allied Invasion of
Italy”, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Allied_invasion_of_Italy
7. Molony,
C. J. C. “The Mediterranean and Middle East Vol. 5, The Campaign in Sicily 1943
and the Campaign in Italy 3rd September 1943 to 31st March 1944”, 1973, p280
8.
“Armistice of Cassibile”, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Armistice_of_Cassibile
9. “Operation Colossu”,s https://everipedia.org/wiki/Operation_Colossus/
10. “Spartacus”, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spartacus
11. “Senerchia”, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Senerchia
12. “Finding the Buzzer”, http://www.napoliunderground.org/index.php/en/research/98-finding-the-buzzer
13. “WW II:
Consolidated B-24 Liberator”, https://www.thoughtco.com/consolidated-b-24-liberator-2361515
14.
“Bersaglieri”, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bersaglieri
