Lt. Richmond Shakespear
Robert Frederick
Robert Frederick
Lieutenant Richmond Shakespear Frees Russian Slaves
Lieutenant Richmond Shakespear, aged 28 years, and an ambitious career political officer in the British Army in India,
tall, handsome with a commanding stature, and unusually extroverted was summoned by his superior officer, Major
Todd, and asked to undertake a hazardous mission. The year was 1838 and Todd had previously dispatched
Captain James Abbott to Khiva to convince the Khan to allow him to negotiate with the Russians, who were advancing
on his capital; but nothing had been heard of Abbott and now Todd wanted to send Shakespear. His argument to the
Khan was to be, if he freed all his Russian slaves the excuse for an attack would disappear and the Russians would
call of their adventure. The young lieutenant was elated at his opportunity. ‘The chances of distinction,’ he wrote to
his sister, ‘are so great and the hazards so slight that the heart of a wren would be gladdened by the prospect.’
Shakespear also had the distinction of being a cousin to the novelist Thackeray.
Wearing native dress, and accompanied by eleven native tribesmen, he left Herat for Khiva on May 14. Four days out
he met a rider with a wild tale about Captain Abbott reaching Saint Petersburg and negotiating a Russian withdrawal.
‘I don’t believe this,’ wrote Shakespear in his diary. ‘At any rate I shall go to Khiva.’ He was shortly strengthened in his
resolve on meeting a party of Turkomen tribesmen escorting ten slaves on their way to Khiva. The eight boys and two
girls were only children. He outnumbered the slavers, and considered taking them and freeing the children, but, ‘had
I turned the poor children loose they would soon have been retaken.’ Nor was he willing to jeopardize his mission.
Instead he lectured the amazed tribesmen, while his men shouted curses and abuses at them.
After passing the ancient caravan town of Merv, in what now comprises parts of Turkmenistan and Uzbekistan, the
small group entered onto the most difficult part of their journey, 700 miles of bleak desert, from there to the river Oxus.
By daylight the trail was difficult to follow, with wind and sand obliterating any signs of previous caravans and leaving
only bones of animals and occasional skulls of camels stuck up on thorn bushes to mark passage. But even at night
their young guide was able to find the trail. ‘It was pointed out to me,’ wrote Shakespear, and though I dismounted
and tried hard to distinguish it I failed. Had anything happened to the guide, or had he been less intelligent, the
destruction or the party would have been inevitable.’ The extreme heat of the days was brutally punishing and they
continually feared missing the next well in succession. Three days later they reached the Oxus.
On reaching the Oxus and Khiva Shakespear discovered that Abbott had been attacked on his way north by desert
raiders, wounded, robbed of all possessions and taken into captivity. There was no further word, and he assumed
Abbott was dead. The next day he was summoned to the Khan’s presence and graciously received; the Kahn and the
young Lieutenant hit it off right away. ‘There is no pomp or show about his Court, no guards whatsoever, and I did not
see a jewel of any sort,’ he noted. Each man, apparently was favorably impressed with the other. Meanwhile,
however, word had come to the Khan that the Russian general, Perovsky, running into bitter cold, waste deep snow,
and heavy losses of men and camels, was forced on January 29, to give up the expedition and
the Khivans were rejoicing over a great victory.
Shakespear, however, was not deterred. Thee Russians had tried once; what was to keep them from trying again?
The Khan, apparently having the same thought, was also was being influenced by hope for a defense treaty with Great
Britain that, though beyond the lieutenant’s authority to discuss, was being dangled before him. Dwelling on the Khan’
s fear of another invasion, he told him the best way to avert the threat was to free his Russian slaves. On August 3 he
made the following excited entry in his diary: ‘the Khan…has made over to me all the Russian prisoners, and I am to
take them to a Russian fort on the eastern shore of the Caspian.’
The next day he set up his headquarters in a garden outside the capital, provided by the Khan, and began accepting
the slaves brought to him. He counted more than 300 males, 18 females and 11 children. On average the men had
been in captivity for ten years, the women seventeen; he observed, ‘with one exception they were all in fine health.’
Most of the men were seized while fishing in the Caspian Sea; the women were taken from the vicinity of Orenburg.
‘They all seemed poor people, ‘he wrote, ‘very grateful, and altogether it was one of the pleasantest duties I have ever
executed.’
But his problems were not over. Immediately, word began coming to him that all the Russian slaves in Khiva were
not there. Slaves, after all, sold for 20 Pounds a piece, the price of four mature camels. In one case a desperate
mother, and recently released slave, came to him to tell him her two young children, a nine year old girl and her
younger brother, were still being held by a powerful lady at court who was determined to keep them. On confrontation
the Khan agreed to release the boy, but not the girl. The mother, however, refused to leave without her daughter, ‘ she
taunted me,’ he wrote, ‘with the promise I had made to obtain the child’s release.’
Returning to the palace, he avoided the minister, for fear of jeopardizing what he had already accomplished, and went
directly to the Khan, who told him the child did not want to leave her comfort. Shakespear told him she was too young
to know her own mind, and demanded her release, after which, with great reluctance she was crossly handed over.
But when the child saw the British lieutenant in native dress she thought him to be a slave trader and screamed; she
was finally persuaded to climb up behind him on his horse to be taken back to her grateful mother. ‘I have seldom
seen a more beautiful child,’ he wrote; it seemed clear she had been destined for the Khan’s own harem.
Several days later, however, there were still twenty Russian slaves not accounted for, and once again Shakespear
returned to confront the Khan, showing him the list and insisting that unless all were returned, the Russians still had
excuse to invade; it was to be all or nothing. ‘His majesty was astounded at my plain speaking and gave his minister
an order in a tone which made him shake;’ anyone found detaining a slave would be put to death. The next day
seventeen more slaves, many in chains, showed up. The Headman who owned the final slave swore he was dead,
but his father, who had also been a slave, insisted he was alive and being held against his will. A search of the
village finally found him hidden in a vault beneath the granary.
On August 15th the party was readied for its 500 mile trek north, across the desert to Fort Alexandrovsk on the
Caspian Sea. There were 416 freed slaves and an armed escort provided by the Khan, in addition to Shakespear’s
own armed contingent. ‘The plain was so open,’ he wrote, ‘that the camels crowded together and marched en
masse, the children and women riding on paniers, singing and laughing, and the men trudging along sturdily – all
counting the few days which remained ere they should rejoin their countrymen.’ ‘The release of these poor wretches,’
he went on, ‘has surprised the Turcomans amazingly and I humbly hope that it is the dawn of a new era in the history
of this nation, and that ultimately the British name will be blessed with the proud distinction of having put an end to
this inhuman traffic, and of having civilized the Turcoman race, which has for centuries been the scourge of Central
Asia.’ He apparently forgot that the Khan still held all of his far more numerous Persian slaves.
As the caravan approached the Russian fortress they sent ahead an ex-slave bearing a letter from the Shakespear in
English to alert the commander. It was received with great suspicion, as a trap was feared. The Russian
commander simply could not believe the letter, and they waited through the night for a decision. When, next day, the
party came within six miles of the fort, the escort refused to go further, fearing they might be taken into custody by the
Russians. But it was still too far for the children to walk and some of the slaves had possessions too heavy to
manage by themselves. Finally the nervous camel men agreed to provide twenty animals, while they awaited their
return.
On entering the fort, ‘the worthy commander was overpowered with gratitude.’ His acceptance note, that also served
as a receipt for the slaves, read in part: ‘ They expressed themselves unanimously grateful to you as their Father and
Benefactor.’ The next evening the Russians put on a banquet in Shakespear’s honor during which they toasted
Queen Victoria and Tsar Nicholas. ‘Not a horse nor even a camel has been lost,’ he proudly wrote his sister.
The entire slave entourage was taken by ship further up the coast and then overland to Orenburg. Now in European
clothes, Shakespear was received by General Perovsky, who thanked him profusely, and promptly ordered the
release of 600 Khivan prisoners. On November 3, 1840, six months after setting out, he arrived in Saint Petersburg,
on his way to London, where he was personally thanked by Tsar Nicholas , who was privately infuriated with the
interference of this upstart young British officer, who had deprived him of further excuse to invade Khiva. On return to
London he was knighted and promoted by an ecstatic Queen Victoria, after which he happily returned to his post on
the frontiers of India.
Reference: Peter Hopkirk, The Great Game, Kodansha International, 1990.
Published In Old News Magazine
Lieutenant Richmond Shakespear, aged 28 years, and an ambitious career political officer in the British Army in India,
tall, handsome with a commanding stature, and unusually extroverted was summoned by his superior officer, Major
Todd, and asked to undertake a hazardous mission. The year was 1838 and Todd had previously dispatched
Captain James Abbott to Khiva to convince the Khan to allow him to negotiate with the Russians, who were advancing
on his capital; but nothing had been heard of Abbott and now Todd wanted to send Shakespear. His argument to the
Khan was to be, if he freed all his Russian slaves the excuse for an attack would disappear and the Russians would
call of their adventure. The young lieutenant was elated at his opportunity. ‘The chances of distinction,’ he wrote to
his sister, ‘are so great and the hazards so slight that the heart of a wren would be gladdened by the prospect.’
Shakespear also had the distinction of being a cousin to the novelist Thackeray.
Wearing native dress, and accompanied by eleven native tribesmen, he left Herat for Khiva on May 14. Four days out
he met a rider with a wild tale about Captain Abbott reaching Saint Petersburg and negotiating a Russian withdrawal.
‘I don’t believe this,’ wrote Shakespear in his diary. ‘At any rate I shall go to Khiva.’ He was shortly strengthened in his
resolve on meeting a party of Turkomen tribesmen escorting ten slaves on their way to Khiva. The eight boys and two
girls were only children. He outnumbered the slavers, and considered taking them and freeing the children, but, ‘had
I turned the poor children loose they would soon have been retaken.’ Nor was he willing to jeopardize his mission.
Instead he lectured the amazed tribesmen, while his men shouted curses and abuses at them.
After passing the ancient caravan town of Merv, in what now comprises parts of Turkmenistan and Uzbekistan, the
small group entered onto the most difficult part of their journey, 700 miles of bleak desert, from there to the river Oxus.
By daylight the trail was difficult to follow, with wind and sand obliterating any signs of previous caravans and leaving
only bones of animals and occasional skulls of camels stuck up on thorn bushes to mark passage. But even at night
their young guide was able to find the trail. ‘It was pointed out to me,’ wrote Shakespear, and though I dismounted
and tried hard to distinguish it I failed. Had anything happened to the guide, or had he been less intelligent, the
destruction or the party would have been inevitable.’ The extreme heat of the days was brutally punishing and they
continually feared missing the next well in succession. Three days later they reached the Oxus.
On reaching the Oxus and Khiva Shakespear discovered that Abbott had been attacked on his way north by desert
raiders, wounded, robbed of all possessions and taken into captivity. There was no further word, and he assumed
Abbott was dead. The next day he was summoned to the Khan’s presence and graciously received; the Kahn and the
young Lieutenant hit it off right away. ‘There is no pomp or show about his Court, no guards whatsoever, and I did not
see a jewel of any sort,’ he noted. Each man, apparently was favorably impressed with the other. Meanwhile,
however, word had come to the Khan that the Russian general, Perovsky, running into bitter cold, waste deep snow,
and heavy losses of men and camels, was forced on January 29, to give up the expedition and
the Khivans were rejoicing over a great victory.
Shakespear, however, was not deterred. Thee Russians had tried once; what was to keep them from trying again?
The Khan, apparently having the same thought, was also was being influenced by hope for a defense treaty with Great
Britain that, though beyond the lieutenant’s authority to discuss, was being dangled before him. Dwelling on the Khan’
s fear of another invasion, he told him the best way to avert the threat was to free his Russian slaves. On August 3 he
made the following excited entry in his diary: ‘the Khan…has made over to me all the Russian prisoners, and I am to
take them to a Russian fort on the eastern shore of the Caspian.’
The next day he set up his headquarters in a garden outside the capital, provided by the Khan, and began accepting
the slaves brought to him. He counted more than 300 males, 18 females and 11 children. On average the men had
been in captivity for ten years, the women seventeen; he observed, ‘with one exception they were all in fine health.’
Most of the men were seized while fishing in the Caspian Sea; the women were taken from the vicinity of Orenburg.
‘They all seemed poor people, ‘he wrote, ‘very grateful, and altogether it was one of the pleasantest duties I have ever
executed.’
But his problems were not over. Immediately, word began coming to him that all the Russian slaves in Khiva were
not there. Slaves, after all, sold for 20 Pounds a piece, the price of four mature camels. In one case a desperate
mother, and recently released slave, came to him to tell him her two young children, a nine year old girl and her
younger brother, were still being held by a powerful lady at court who was determined to keep them. On confrontation
the Khan agreed to release the boy, but not the girl. The mother, however, refused to leave without her daughter, ‘ she
taunted me,’ he wrote, ‘with the promise I had made to obtain the child’s release.’
Returning to the palace, he avoided the minister, for fear of jeopardizing what he had already accomplished, and went
directly to the Khan, who told him the child did not want to leave her comfort. Shakespear told him she was too young
to know her own mind, and demanded her release, after which, with great reluctance she was crossly handed over.
But when the child saw the British lieutenant in native dress she thought him to be a slave trader and screamed; she
was finally persuaded to climb up behind him on his horse to be taken back to her grateful mother. ‘I have seldom
seen a more beautiful child,’ he wrote; it seemed clear she had been destined for the Khan’s own harem.
Several days later, however, there were still twenty Russian slaves not accounted for, and once again Shakespear
returned to confront the Khan, showing him the list and insisting that unless all were returned, the Russians still had
excuse to invade; it was to be all or nothing. ‘His majesty was astounded at my plain speaking and gave his minister
an order in a tone which made him shake;’ anyone found detaining a slave would be put to death. The next day
seventeen more slaves, many in chains, showed up. The Headman who owned the final slave swore he was dead,
but his father, who had also been a slave, insisted he was alive and being held against his will. A search of the
village finally found him hidden in a vault beneath the granary.
On August 15th the party was readied for its 500 mile trek north, across the desert to Fort Alexandrovsk on the
Caspian Sea. There were 416 freed slaves and an armed escort provided by the Khan, in addition to Shakespear’s
own armed contingent. ‘The plain was so open,’ he wrote, ‘that the camels crowded together and marched en
masse, the children and women riding on paniers, singing and laughing, and the men trudging along sturdily – all
counting the few days which remained ere they should rejoin their countrymen.’ ‘The release of these poor wretches,’
he went on, ‘has surprised the Turcomans amazingly and I humbly hope that it is the dawn of a new era in the history
of this nation, and that ultimately the British name will be blessed with the proud distinction of having put an end to
this inhuman traffic, and of having civilized the Turcoman race, which has for centuries been the scourge of Central
Asia.’ He apparently forgot that the Khan still held all of his far more numerous Persian slaves.
As the caravan approached the Russian fortress they sent ahead an ex-slave bearing a letter from the Shakespear in
English to alert the commander. It was received with great suspicion, as a trap was feared. The Russian
commander simply could not believe the letter, and they waited through the night for a decision. When, next day, the
party came within six miles of the fort, the escort refused to go further, fearing they might be taken into custody by the
Russians. But it was still too far for the children to walk and some of the slaves had possessions too heavy to
manage by themselves. Finally the nervous camel men agreed to provide twenty animals, while they awaited their
return.
On entering the fort, ‘the worthy commander was overpowered with gratitude.’ His acceptance note, that also served
as a receipt for the slaves, read in part: ‘ They expressed themselves unanimously grateful to you as their Father and
Benefactor.’ The next evening the Russians put on a banquet in Shakespear’s honor during which they toasted
Queen Victoria and Tsar Nicholas. ‘Not a horse nor even a camel has been lost,’ he proudly wrote his sister.
The entire slave entourage was taken by ship further up the coast and then overland to Orenburg. Now in European
clothes, Shakespear was received by General Perovsky, who thanked him profusely, and promptly ordered the
release of 600 Khivan prisoners. On November 3, 1840, six months after setting out, he arrived in Saint Petersburg,
on his way to London, where he was personally thanked by Tsar Nicholas , who was privately infuriated with the
interference of this upstart young British officer, who had deprived him of further excuse to invade Khiva. On return to
London he was knighted and promoted by an ecstatic Queen Victoria, after which he happily returned to his post on
the frontiers of India.
Reference: Peter Hopkirk, The Great Game, Kodansha International, 1990.
Published In Old News Magazine
Frederick leads successful assault on Monte La diffensa
The 1st Special Service Force was formed as a result of a special project conceived in 1941, which visualized small
unit attacks utilizing lightly armored, tracked snow vehicles in Norway, with Robert T. Frederick, West Point class of
1928, as its commanding officer. Though both Norway and the snow vehicle raid concept were dropped, Col.
Frederick and his brigade of Canadian and U.S. volunteers continued training in Montana for behind the lines
operations – special operations. They got the call in October 1943 and by November had been assigned to the 32nd
Division of II Corps with the 5th Army in Italy. A chain of German fortified hills, collectively known as the Camino hill
mass, had been identified as the key to breaking the German “Winter Line” that was blocking the advance of British
and American forces toward Rome. Mount Camino itself was a peak that rose 3200 feet above sea level about forty
miles north east of Naples.
Frederick, a “slender, tall and vigorously youthful” career army officer had “the ability to attract and retain almost
fanatical loyalty” among his men. Even though he had recommended against the Norway project, he was
nonetheless appointed its officer in charge, and became commander when the mission was changed to that of
special operation light infantry unit. By then no one doubted who was in charge. Colonel Robert Frederick was a take-
charge kind of officer who never asked anyone to do anything he wouldn’t do himself, something he was to prove over
and over again.
The immediate objective on 22 November, 1943, was a heavily defended ridgeline that blocked the way of the
advance, and behind which lay the pass that led to Rome. On one side of the pass stood two dominating peaks,
named Monte la Difensa and Monte la Remetanea. The Force had been assigned the mission of spearheading the
attack to take la Difensa and la Remetanea to open the way for the British and American forces. The task was
considered almost suicidal, and casualties were expected to be very heavy.
Colonel Frederick accepted the assignment with characteristic lack of emotion, and during the dark hours of the next
week with several of his staff, climbed the mountain trails to establish the best assault plan; the driving rain which
was turning everything to mud had become a friend, hiding their movements. The normal assent to the top of la
Difensa was a trail leading up the north slope and it was well defended. The south flank, with a 200 foot cliff above
which were an additional six ledges, each 30 feet in height, was considered impassible, and so was only lightly
defended. Frederick chose the south flank.
At four o’clock on the afternoon of 1 December the Force moved out, first by truck, then the last ten miles on foot in
heavy rain. Darkness was falling by the time they reached the base of the mountain, and covering artillery boomed
throughout the night as the troops moved into position. By dawn all was in readiness and they waited throughout the
day, carefully hidden from enemy observation, for the other elements of the attack to move into their positions. At four
thirty in the afternoon Frederick climbed out of his command post and nodded to his staff; “Let’s go,” he said; turning
to his executive officer, Paul Adams, he added, “Look after things Paul.” Then, followed by his staff and the lead
combat units of the 1st Special Service Force, he headed up the mountain path.
The cliff face began at the 2000 foot level and extended upwards at a slope of 60 or 70 degrees for another 1000 feet.
“Toward evening,” one of the men was later to recall, “some of the men were sent to string ropes on the more difficult
parts of the ascent.” They could hear German voices just above where they worked. “That night we just climbed. I
could never have made it without the help of those ropes.” Another said there was “no fear of death, just sheer
exhaustion and survival. I can still see us climbing the hill and watching German mortars bracket us.” German
gunners were routinely placing fire on all the known trails across the mountain.
The 600 men of the leading 2nd Regiment, carrying their weapons, ammunition and heavy packs, climbed silently
throughout the early evening, groping for crevices with frozen hands and aching muscles as they fought to keep from
sliding back. Col. George Walton recalls, when the men reached the point above the cliff they “sprawled out
exhausted, the perspiration freezing to their bodies in the icy air. One man reached for his rifle and found that he was
too tired to lift it….They rested for a few minutes, and then wriggled forward into the darkness to take their places…..
there was still no sound from the enemy.” By midnight most were concealed among the rocky ledges just below the
German positions.
Suddenly this group was joined by another handful of men; it was Frederick and his staff. They inched their way onto
a shelf of a width no wider than a single man, where they hunkered down in the freezing rain. When all elements
were in position Col. Frederick gave the sign to move on again. Within minutes some of the men had reached the
crest, a saucer shaped area about the size of a football field, littered with German emplacements and foxholes. “The
men of The Force,” wrote Walton, “slipped forward in the darkness, their blackened faces and dirt-stained uniforms
making them almost completely invisible. Although in the distance, the rumble and cough of artillery could be heard,
the only sound being made on the crest was the soft gurgle vented by German sentries who had their throats cut by
the Forcemen gliding past them in the darkness.”
At 4:30 A.M. the order was given to hold fire until 6:00, and only knives and bayonets were to be used. But a loose
stone, spread by the Germans for exactly that purpose, gave them away and suddenly the blackness was shattered by
flashes of gunfire. First a green, then a red, and finally magnesium flares went up, bathing the crest in their glare.
The battle was on. “All hell broke loose,” said one of the men, “I dived for cover and my section, who were laboriously
climbing over the ledge behind me, started to crawl into position to my left as soon as they were on the ledge in front
of the topmost lump.” Walton adds, “The furious fighting continued on every side…and it wasn’t being waged only by
enlisted men and junior officers. Frederick seemed to be everywhere on that battlefield….senior officers fought as
savagely and unremittingly as the Pfc’s alongside them.”
As dawn broke there was a break in the fog and the Germans could be seen retreating across the connecting ridge to
la Remetanea, The Force’s second objective; but now exposed, the men were taken under enemy fire. Frederick
motioned for them to take cover, then turned to look to his re-supply, radioing down below to start the packers to make
the climb with ammunition, water, rations, blankets and litters for the wounded. The men dug in and waited; it was at
best a six hour climb for the packers. A company commander recalled, “Problems piled up fast for Colonel Frederick
when we found that the difficulty of supplying us would keep us on Difensa much longer than anticipated. His casual
indifference to enemy fire was hard to explain, as there were times when a heavy barrage of mortar fire would send us
scurrying for cover only to come back and find him smoking a cigarette – in the same sitting position and place we
had vacated in a hurry.”
Even with everyone helping, the re-supply was nightmarish. One of the men responsible for moving supplies up the
mountain was to remember, “a soldier would carry either a five-gallon can of water, case of rations or a box of
ammunition, and we made two trips a day for seven days using the same trail on which we had to pass dead bodies
of men from units that tried to take the high ground before and our own dead every trip we made.” Combat journalist
Ernie Pyle wrote, “All through those terrible days every ounce of their supplies had to go up to them on the backs of
mules and men. Mules took it the first third of the way. Men took it the last bitter two thirds, because the trail was too
steep even for mules.”
By the next day the men had regrouped and been partially re-supplied. Frederick was informed that the British had
also taken their objective on the other side of the pass, and the way was open for the Force to continue the attack to la
Remetanea, but meanwhile intelligence was signaling a German counterattack. However, as morning turned to
afternoon nothing happened. Then he learned why. The Germans that had been pushed off la Difensa had joined
with comrades and counterattacked the British, pushing them back from the monastery they had taken on the
opposite heights. This convinced Frederick he needed to take action or risk being isolated. The attack on la
Remetanea was set for the next dawn, and patrols were sent out to clear out snipers and look for prisoners to provide
more intelligence.
Darkness fell early, bringing with it a sharp wind and more icy rain. The Germans continued their almost continual
artillery shelling. The Force began to move at 11 p.m. and the forward elements were immediately taken under fire by
a German machine gun. The firing was intense and the men took cover, digging in as much as possible. As soon as
Frederick heard what had happened he joined his men. “I saw Colonel Frederick in the next hole,” remembered one
of the men, “dirty, grimy, with his water bottle holder split, taking it like the rest of us.” Another said, “I’ll never forget
Colonel Frederick walking by our position and telling me to keep my head down, and here he was up in full view of the
enemy himself.”
Patrols were sent out to probe the German positions, blowing them up with hand grenades one by one until the
shelling finally stopped; it had lasted about an hour, but in that time the Force had taken forty percent casualties. Later
a soldier recalled, “It was dark as pitch and we had stopped for a short rest, laying beside the narrow trail with our feet
close by the trail when some guy came walking up the path and tripped over my feet. We were all tired and griping; so
when this guy hit my feet I said, ‘watch where you are going, you damn nut!” Colonel Frederick stopped and merely
said, “Pardon me, soldier,” and continued up the trail. They waited through the next day, continuing to send out
probing patrols. The action was continual, but sporadic, and at an individual level as both sides grappled in the fog.
The next night proved easier to get through than the one previous, only partly because the sniper firing and artillery
had slackened. That morning Frederick had contacted Col. Adams and ordered him to find some whiskey for his
troops before nightfall. 5th Army approved, without question, a requisition for “15 cases of bourbon “for medicinal
purposes.” They also supplied a dozen gross of prophylactics to pull over rifle barrels, but not without some raised
eyebrows. At dawn it was discovered that the patrols of the night before had almost completely cleared the south
slope of the mountain and by mid afternoon the now leading 1st Regiment was in motion along the ridge with an
objective of taking two small knolls near its midpoint. This time there was nothing fancy about the advance; it was a
straight ahead movement of screaming, determined troopers with fixed bayonets; the objective was taken with heavy
casualties.
The next morning dawned clear and warm and Monte la Difensa was under Allied control by noon. The pass to Rome
was now open. “Please press relief of troops from this position,” Frederick wrote in his report, “ as every additional
day here will mean two days necessary for recuperation before next mission. They are willing and eager, but are
becoming exhausted.” 532 Forcemen had been killed, wounded or injured, one third of the fighting echelon of the 1st
Special Service Force. War Correspondent Clark Lee reported, “This feat captured the imagination of the entire Fifth
Army and overnight Frederick and his soldiers became almost legendary figures in a battle area where heroism was
commonplace. Despite two wounds, Frederick had gone on fighting with pistol and grenade at the side of his men.
The Difensa attack is destined to live in military annals because of the endurance, daring and fighting skill it involved.”
References:
Robert H. Adleman and Col. George Walton, The Devil’s Brigade, Chilton Books, 1966.
T.D. Stamps and V.J. Esposito editors, A Military History of World War II, USMA A.G. Printing Office, 1953.
Encyclopedia Britannica, 1974 edition.
The 1st Special Service Force was formed as a result of a special project conceived in 1941, which visualized small
unit attacks utilizing lightly armored, tracked snow vehicles in Norway, with Robert T. Frederick, West Point class of
1928, as its commanding officer. Though both Norway and the snow vehicle raid concept were dropped, Col.
Frederick and his brigade of Canadian and U.S. volunteers continued training in Montana for behind the lines
operations – special operations. They got the call in October 1943 and by November had been assigned to the 32nd
Division of II Corps with the 5th Army in Italy. A chain of German fortified hills, collectively known as the Camino hill
mass, had been identified as the key to breaking the German “Winter Line” that was blocking the advance of British
and American forces toward Rome. Mount Camino itself was a peak that rose 3200 feet above sea level about forty
miles north east of Naples.
Frederick, a “slender, tall and vigorously youthful” career army officer had “the ability to attract and retain almost
fanatical loyalty” among his men. Even though he had recommended against the Norway project, he was
nonetheless appointed its officer in charge, and became commander when the mission was changed to that of
special operation light infantry unit. By then no one doubted who was in charge. Colonel Robert Frederick was a take-
charge kind of officer who never asked anyone to do anything he wouldn’t do himself, something he was to prove over
and over again.
The immediate objective on 22 November, 1943, was a heavily defended ridgeline that blocked the way of the
advance, and behind which lay the pass that led to Rome. On one side of the pass stood two dominating peaks,
named Monte la Difensa and Monte la Remetanea. The Force had been assigned the mission of spearheading the
attack to take la Difensa and la Remetanea to open the way for the British and American forces. The task was
considered almost suicidal, and casualties were expected to be very heavy.
Colonel Frederick accepted the assignment with characteristic lack of emotion, and during the dark hours of the next
week with several of his staff, climbed the mountain trails to establish the best assault plan; the driving rain which
was turning everything to mud had become a friend, hiding their movements. The normal assent to the top of la
Difensa was a trail leading up the north slope and it was well defended. The south flank, with a 200 foot cliff above
which were an additional six ledges, each 30 feet in height, was considered impassible, and so was only lightly
defended. Frederick chose the south flank.
At four o’clock on the afternoon of 1 December the Force moved out, first by truck, then the last ten miles on foot in
heavy rain. Darkness was falling by the time they reached the base of the mountain, and covering artillery boomed
throughout the night as the troops moved into position. By dawn all was in readiness and they waited throughout the
day, carefully hidden from enemy observation, for the other elements of the attack to move into their positions. At four
thirty in the afternoon Frederick climbed out of his command post and nodded to his staff; “Let’s go,” he said; turning
to his executive officer, Paul Adams, he added, “Look after things Paul.” Then, followed by his staff and the lead
combat units of the 1st Special Service Force, he headed up the mountain path.
The cliff face began at the 2000 foot level and extended upwards at a slope of 60 or 70 degrees for another 1000 feet.
“Toward evening,” one of the men was later to recall, “some of the men were sent to string ropes on the more difficult
parts of the ascent.” They could hear German voices just above where they worked. “That night we just climbed. I
could never have made it without the help of those ropes.” Another said there was “no fear of death, just sheer
exhaustion and survival. I can still see us climbing the hill and watching German mortars bracket us.” German
gunners were routinely placing fire on all the known trails across the mountain.
The 600 men of the leading 2nd Regiment, carrying their weapons, ammunition and heavy packs, climbed silently
throughout the early evening, groping for crevices with frozen hands and aching muscles as they fought to keep from
sliding back. Col. George Walton recalls, when the men reached the point above the cliff they “sprawled out
exhausted, the perspiration freezing to their bodies in the icy air. One man reached for his rifle and found that he was
too tired to lift it….They rested for a few minutes, and then wriggled forward into the darkness to take their places…..
there was still no sound from the enemy.” By midnight most were concealed among the rocky ledges just below the
German positions.
Suddenly this group was joined by another handful of men; it was Frederick and his staff. They inched their way onto
a shelf of a width no wider than a single man, where they hunkered down in the freezing rain. When all elements
were in position Col. Frederick gave the sign to move on again. Within minutes some of the men had reached the
crest, a saucer shaped area about the size of a football field, littered with German emplacements and foxholes. “The
men of The Force,” wrote Walton, “slipped forward in the darkness, their blackened faces and dirt-stained uniforms
making them almost completely invisible. Although in the distance, the rumble and cough of artillery could be heard,
the only sound being made on the crest was the soft gurgle vented by German sentries who had their throats cut by
the Forcemen gliding past them in the darkness.”
At 4:30 A.M. the order was given to hold fire until 6:00, and only knives and bayonets were to be used. But a loose
stone, spread by the Germans for exactly that purpose, gave them away and suddenly the blackness was shattered by
flashes of gunfire. First a green, then a red, and finally magnesium flares went up, bathing the crest in their glare.
The battle was on. “All hell broke loose,” said one of the men, “I dived for cover and my section, who were laboriously
climbing over the ledge behind me, started to crawl into position to my left as soon as they were on the ledge in front
of the topmost lump.” Walton adds, “The furious fighting continued on every side…and it wasn’t being waged only by
enlisted men and junior officers. Frederick seemed to be everywhere on that battlefield….senior officers fought as
savagely and unremittingly as the Pfc’s alongside them.”
As dawn broke there was a break in the fog and the Germans could be seen retreating across the connecting ridge to
la Remetanea, The Force’s second objective; but now exposed, the men were taken under enemy fire. Frederick
motioned for them to take cover, then turned to look to his re-supply, radioing down below to start the packers to make
the climb with ammunition, water, rations, blankets and litters for the wounded. The men dug in and waited; it was at
best a six hour climb for the packers. A company commander recalled, “Problems piled up fast for Colonel Frederick
when we found that the difficulty of supplying us would keep us on Difensa much longer than anticipated. His casual
indifference to enemy fire was hard to explain, as there were times when a heavy barrage of mortar fire would send us
scurrying for cover only to come back and find him smoking a cigarette – in the same sitting position and place we
had vacated in a hurry.”
Even with everyone helping, the re-supply was nightmarish. One of the men responsible for moving supplies up the
mountain was to remember, “a soldier would carry either a five-gallon can of water, case of rations or a box of
ammunition, and we made two trips a day for seven days using the same trail on which we had to pass dead bodies
of men from units that tried to take the high ground before and our own dead every trip we made.” Combat journalist
Ernie Pyle wrote, “All through those terrible days every ounce of their supplies had to go up to them on the backs of
mules and men. Mules took it the first third of the way. Men took it the last bitter two thirds, because the trail was too
steep even for mules.”
By the next day the men had regrouped and been partially re-supplied. Frederick was informed that the British had
also taken their objective on the other side of the pass, and the way was open for the Force to continue the attack to la
Remetanea, but meanwhile intelligence was signaling a German counterattack. However, as morning turned to
afternoon nothing happened. Then he learned why. The Germans that had been pushed off la Difensa had joined
with comrades and counterattacked the British, pushing them back from the monastery they had taken on the
opposite heights. This convinced Frederick he needed to take action or risk being isolated. The attack on la
Remetanea was set for the next dawn, and patrols were sent out to clear out snipers and look for prisoners to provide
more intelligence.
Darkness fell early, bringing with it a sharp wind and more icy rain. The Germans continued their almost continual
artillery shelling. The Force began to move at 11 p.m. and the forward elements were immediately taken under fire by
a German machine gun. The firing was intense and the men took cover, digging in as much as possible. As soon as
Frederick heard what had happened he joined his men. “I saw Colonel Frederick in the next hole,” remembered one
of the men, “dirty, grimy, with his water bottle holder split, taking it like the rest of us.” Another said, “I’ll never forget
Colonel Frederick walking by our position and telling me to keep my head down, and here he was up in full view of the
enemy himself.”
Patrols were sent out to probe the German positions, blowing them up with hand grenades one by one until the
shelling finally stopped; it had lasted about an hour, but in that time the Force had taken forty percent casualties. Later
a soldier recalled, “It was dark as pitch and we had stopped for a short rest, laying beside the narrow trail with our feet
close by the trail when some guy came walking up the path and tripped over my feet. We were all tired and griping; so
when this guy hit my feet I said, ‘watch where you are going, you damn nut!” Colonel Frederick stopped and merely
said, “Pardon me, soldier,” and continued up the trail. They waited through the next day, continuing to send out
probing patrols. The action was continual, but sporadic, and at an individual level as both sides grappled in the fog.
The next night proved easier to get through than the one previous, only partly because the sniper firing and artillery
had slackened. That morning Frederick had contacted Col. Adams and ordered him to find some whiskey for his
troops before nightfall. 5th Army approved, without question, a requisition for “15 cases of bourbon “for medicinal
purposes.” They also supplied a dozen gross of prophylactics to pull over rifle barrels, but not without some raised
eyebrows. At dawn it was discovered that the patrols of the night before had almost completely cleared the south
slope of the mountain and by mid afternoon the now leading 1st Regiment was in motion along the ridge with an
objective of taking two small knolls near its midpoint. This time there was nothing fancy about the advance; it was a
straight ahead movement of screaming, determined troopers with fixed bayonets; the objective was taken with heavy
casualties.
The next morning dawned clear and warm and Monte la Difensa was under Allied control by noon. The pass to Rome
was now open. “Please press relief of troops from this position,” Frederick wrote in his report, “ as every additional
day here will mean two days necessary for recuperation before next mission. They are willing and eager, but are
becoming exhausted.” 532 Forcemen had been killed, wounded or injured, one third of the fighting echelon of the 1st
Special Service Force. War Correspondent Clark Lee reported, “This feat captured the imagination of the entire Fifth
Army and overnight Frederick and his soldiers became almost legendary figures in a battle area where heroism was
commonplace. Despite two wounds, Frederick had gone on fighting with pistol and grenade at the side of his men.
The Difensa attack is destined to live in military annals because of the endurance, daring and fighting skill it involved.”
References:
Robert H. Adleman and Col. George Walton, The Devil’s Brigade, Chilton Books, 1966.
T.D. Stamps and V.J. Esposito editors, A Military History of World War II, USMA A.G. Printing Office, 1953.
Encyclopedia Britannica, 1974 edition.