Rose of Anzio - Desire (Volume 3): A WWII Epic Love Story Read online

  Rose of Anzio Book Three Desire

  A WWII Epic Love Story

  Alexa Kang

  Contents

  Disclaimer

  Part One - Anzio

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Part Two - Night Raid

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Part Three - Carano

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Part Four - Stolen Kisses

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Part Five - Sabotaged

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Part Six - Catacombs and Caves

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Part Seven - Catastrophe at 33rd

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Part Eight - The Mercy of Time

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Part Nine - Spring, 1944

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Part Ten - The Guardian Angel

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Rose of Anzio Book Four - Remembrance

  Rose of Anzio - Remembrance Preview

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  Eternal Flame Synopsis

  The Rose of Anzio Series

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental. The author has made every effort to ensure that major historical facts are accurate, but has taken some artistic license for fictional purposes. This book is not intended to be used as reference material and in no way should it be treated as an authority on any subject on any account.

  I

  Part One - Anzio

  1

  The Gustav Line.

  At their base on the Anzio beachhead in a meeting with his company's officers, Anthony stared at that cursed German defense line on the map on the table. Entrenched in the Apennine Mountains between Naples and Rome, the Gustav Line had been the bane of their existence since the Allies broke out of Sicily and entered the region of Monte Cassino. He felt sorry for the Fifth Army soldiers who were still fighting there, but he was more than glad when the Third Division was directed to be part of Operation Shingle to invade Anzio.

  He remembered the times in the last few months when he had to fight in the Monte Cassino region, when he began each mission climbing up those mountains. Those mountains were the number one reason why the Allies hadn't been able to push their own front forward. Not even an inch. They cut northeast to southwest across Italy and ran into the Liri Valley. The Liri Valley should have been the Allies' natural entrance to attack the German front, except it was protected by large hills.

  If one could even call them hills. The first time Anthony came upon these hills, he thought they looked like nothing less than mountains. Every time they were sent out there, he would look up and wonder how they could possibly break through. On the top, the Germans were looking down, surveilling their every move and advance, ready to either pick them off one by one or shell them all at once as they attempted to mount their way up. Every mission was a death march. Every order to attack was a death sentence. They were as good as lambs offered for sacrifice at the enemy's altar. He had never felt more vulnerable.

  Of course, he and everyone else followed the orders and marched forward. They had no choice. But in his mind, he wondered how they could stand a chance. The terrain had made success seem impossible. The only thing he could do was pray. Each time they went on an assault, he would look up toward the ancient abbey of Monte Cassino sitting at the top of those hills. He would tug Tessa's cross around his neck, say a prayer, and cross his heart. He did this even though it was rumored that the Germans had taken the abbey as their command outpost and the enemy might be dwelling in the heart of the temple to which he sent his prayers. Considering how things were going, he would take divine intervention from wherever it came.

  As if the treacherous mountain terrain wasn't enough, the endless rain added another layer of challenge. Their armored vehicles and tanks couldn't get up the slippery mountains where the Germans waited in hiding. The rain caused constant flooding of the Rapido River, which ran east to west across the Liri Valley. The river became a natural fortress of water preventing them from getting across to the enemy. Besides all that, he was always wet. His clothes were always soaked, his foxhole always flooded, his tent always drenched.

  When the rain finally stopped, snow came. Lots of snow. Sometimes, the blizzards blinded them. Other times, the snow fused with the rain, turning into sleet. A last strike against them as the freezing drops drove down like final nails in their coffins.

  In only four months, he had endured enough misery to last him a lifetime.

  This hopeless situation was what brought the Third Division here to Anzio, the small beach resort town thirty-five miles south of Rome and sixty miles north of the Gustav Line behind the German front. Their mission was to attack the Gustav Line from the rear and divert some of the German troops fortified in the Apennine Mountains away to the Anzio region so that the Allied divisions still fighting at Monte Cassino could finally break through.

  His company had arrived at Anzio three days ago. D-day on January 22, at 0200 hours. No rest for the weary as the new year of 1944 began.

  As if to reward them for all they had suffered in the last few months, their Anzio arrival had been a total success. Their amphibious landing surprised the Germans, who unbelievably put up no ground resistance. The Luftwaffe attempted a half-hearted defense from the air, but the American Navy's anti-aircraft units easily put that to an end. In less than two days, the Allied attack forces had secured the beachhead. Their reconnaissance unit even drove into Rome unopposed. Compared to how things were going back at Monte Cassino, their landing at Anzio was a walk in the park. Their next move was obvious. They should continue on and seize as many tactical positions as they could.

  So why were they stalling instead of pushing ahead? Anthony could not understand. Why was Captain Harding even debating with them about this?

  Along with Wesley, their company's first lieutenant, Anthony tried to make every argument he could think of to support Wesley's advice for them to advance with full force. Warren, Anthony's old University of Chicago classmate who was now an intelligence officer working with their unit, was behind them too. They wanted Harding to make the same recommendation to the command, but Harding would not take their suggestion seriously.

  Wesley pointed to the area on the map where the railway connecting Rome and the south ran adjacent to Highways 6 and 7. "If we attack now, we can take over Alban Hills. We should urge regiment command to block off Highway 6." He kept his voice calm and respectful even though Harding remained noncommittal. Anthony could not help but marvel at Wesley's patience. This was the third
time Wesley had made this suggestion.

  Across from Wesley, Harding leaned away from the table and crossed his arms. "Command wants to consolidate the beachhead. We can't do that if we divert troops to Alban Hills."

  Anthony looked at the spot marked Alban Hills on the map. The place was only twenty miles inland from their base at the Anzio beach. The area extended to Highway 6 where the railroad passed between Rome and the German front. If they seized the highway now, they could cut off the German supply line from Rome. They could expand inland to cut off Highway 7 at Valmontone and trap the German forces garrisoned in the Apennine Mountains. The Germans would then be diverted on two fronts between the Allied forces at Anzio and at Monte Cassino with their supplies cut off. If the German defenses were weakened, the Gustav Line might finally fall.

  Breaking the Gustav Line. Wasn't that their ultimate goal? So why were they stalling to consolidate the beachhead?

  "We need to alert regiment to what's at stake." Anthony leaned over the table toward the captain. "Alban Hills and Highway 6 are undefended. They're there for the taking now. We'll lose this chance when German reinforcements arrive."

  Unconvinced, Harding shifted his body from one side to the other, then back again.

  "We're running out of time, Captain."

  "He's right," Warren said. He had been observing their conversation the entire time, but was mindful not to overstep his role by telling those in charge of tactical command what to do. "All our Y-reports are showing the Krauts heading back to this area. There's a massive mobilization of troops coming in from other parts of Italy, and from France and the Baltics too." He pushed one of the reports on the table toward Harding.

  Harding picked up the first few pages of the report with one hand, leaving his other arm still crossed against his chest. He scanned the first page, raising an eyebrow without any show of commitment.

  "It won't be long before they arrive," Warren said. "When they do, we might not have any hope for an offensive anymore."

  Harding tossed the pages down. "I hardly think we have enough troops for an all-out attack now." Ready to end the discussion, he straightened his back and stood firm. "Command said to wait for reinforcements. We wait."

  Reinforcements? Anthony thought to himself. There were no real reinforcements coming. "Captain," he said, trying his best to persuade Harding without crossing him, "command barely spared enough troops to carry out the Anzio mission. The only reinforcements we have are the battalions that haven't arrived yet. If there are any reinforcements left, they'll be sent to France to support Normandy."

  Harding raised his eyebrow again, more subtly this time but Anthony could see that it mattered little to the captain what he thought. Back when they were still fighting their way toward Naples, Wesley had told him that Harding had intentionally sent an inexperienced second lieutenant like Anthony to lead a dangerous attack because the replacements had little to contribute and they made good human shields for the more experienced fighters. The revelation shattered everything Anthony had thought he knew. The captain was not the benevolent leader he appeared to be when they first met.

  In the months that followed, Anthony had come to realize that he, along with the rest of the infantry soldiers and noncoms under his command, were nothing more than dispensable tools for Harding. The only exception was Wesley. Wesley was a rare soldier whom everyone considered to be a perfect fighter. Harding usually gave weight to Wesley's opinions, but not always. As Wesley had said, the captain had his own agenda. What that agenda might be, Anthony could never guess. And now, he couldn't figure out why Harding was resisting their suggestions either.

  "Command may have plans we don't know about yet." An odd, fervid gleam flickered in Harding's eyes. Anthony couldn't make out what it meant, but it unsettled him. "Our order is to hold," the captain said. "We'll hold. We'll secure the beachhead." He straightened up to indicate the discussion was over. "That'll be all, gentlemen." He acknowledged them and took his leave.

  After he left, Anthony turned to Wesley. "That's it? There's nothing we can do?"

  Wesley gave him a stern look. Anthony thought the situation had come to a dead end, but Wesley's expression loosened and he pulled a photo out of a file on the table. The photo showed a German Wehrmacht officer, an intelligent-looking man in his early thirties with a cunning demeanor.

  "This is German Army Major Heinrich Klaus, star commanding officer on the battlefield. He's the reason why the captain doesn't want to push ahead."

  Anthony looked at him, puzzled.

  "When we first took Sicily, Klaus was leading the German defense on the ground. He was only a captain then, a Wehrmacht Hauptmann. We found him when we attacked and captured a German outpost, except we didn't know then he was with the Wehrmacht. He was wearing an American army uniform."

  "What?"

  "He pretended to be an American army captain and a prisoner of war captured by the Germans."

  Anthony looked more closely at the man in the photo.

  "He spoke perfect American English. We found out later he spoke perfect Italian too. We questioned him every way we could. His answers were impeccable. He had us all fooled."

  Anthony thought about how Klaus might have come to possess an American army uniform, but he didn't want to ask what had happened. Most likely, Klaus and his men had captured a real American army captain, interrogated him, and killed him. That must have been how Klaus could deceive even Wesley. Klaus had enough information to pass himself off as one of them.

  "We verified everything as best as we could, but all the troops had just landed in Sicily. Communications were terrible. Everything was disorganized. All the units were still trying to link up. He was with us for two days. He and the captain spent quite some time together. They hit it off like brothers. He was very helpful too when we were making our way in and needed to gather information from the locals. Unfortunately, he also gathered a lot of information from us." Wesley's eyes tensed. "Including some that were military secrets. He got most of that from Captain Harding himself."

  Anthony widened his eyes. "What happened then?"

  "Then he disappeared. When we finally regrouped with the rest of our division, we found out who he really was."

  Anthony exchanged glances with Warren. Warren looked as surprised as he was. Anthony picked up the photo. "Did regiment know?"

  Wesley smiled but didn't answer.

  "There were reports of Company M finding a captain from the 45th Division who was reported missing," Warren said, his voice hesitant as he too was still taking in what Wesley had just told them. "He was lost again, presumed dead."

  Wesley took the photo of Klaus. "The captain vowed he would never let Klaus off if he finds him again." He gave Anthony a grave, cautionary look before putting the photo back into the file. "Well, we just learned, Klaus is now a major. He's someone high on division command's radar. He's commanding and leading the German's Anzio ground defense under Kesselring."

  "That means Klaus is on the way here," Warren said.

  "Is that why the captain doesn't want us to push on?" Anthony asked.

  Wesley glanced at the entrance. When he was sure no one was near, he said, "The captain won't give up any chance to get Klaus. If Klaus is coming here, the captain is ready to meet him here." Without waiting for Anthony and Warren's response, he gathered up the files. "You're never to discuss this with anyone else," he said and left the tent.

  Still trying to get his mind around what Wesley had told them, Anthony remembered that Wesley had warned him that it was up to the two of them to look out for their men because the captain had his own agenda. Wesley had known all along that Harding would sacrifice those he commanded if it served his own purposes. Realization finally dawned on Anthony. They were lucky Wesley was their XO. Wesley was not merely an executive officer doing Harding's bids. He had been protecting them the entire time despite the captain.

  With a heavy heart, Anthony walked outside with Warren. He looked out to the sea. The b
reezy air and smooth ocean waves made a peaceful beach scene that felt surreal considering what was happening here.

  The calm before the storm, he thought.

  The sound of a distant bomb explosion brought him back to reality. Two days ago, there were only scattered pops of gunfire and occasional rat-a-tats of Luftwaffe airplane engines overhead. Now, the artillery noises had grown more frequent. Not constant, but undoubtedly increasing. He could feel the German forces closing in.

  "Come here," Warren said. "I want you to see something." Anthony followed him as they climbed on top of one of the empty tanks nearby. "There." Warren pointed out to the mountains miles behind the beach and took out his binoculars to survey the view. "This is not going to be good."

  Apprehensive, Anthony waited to hear what Warren had to say. Warren always had exceptional insights when he assessed their immediate situation. Anthony also knew Warren often told him more than he would to other army officers, including opinions that Warren kept off the record. Warren never forgot how Anthony had helped and supported him when they were classmates back in Chicago. Their friendship came before the army took over their lives. Ranks and military rules hadn't changed that.

  "The beachhead is wide open and the mountains are all around it." Warren lowered the binoculars. "It's Monte Cassino all over again." He pointed his finger across the mountain ranges. "The Krauts are gonna see everything we're doing down on the beach from every direction."

  Anthony's heart sank further.

  "No. I take it back," Warren said. "This is worse than Cassino. We have no barriers or protection down here. None at all. We're a front without a rear, unless you count the sea as our rear."

  Anthony looked from the mountains down to the beach and to the ocean and beyond. He wondered if anyone in high command saw what they were seeing. From where they stood, the beach stretched fifteen miles between Anzio and another small town called Nettuno. In between the two towns, there was not even a tree or a building behind which anyone could hide. Coming from inland, the Germans would set up their defense at the top of the mountains. From there, they would have a wide-open view to observe the Allies' every move.