It was on this date, February 15, 1944 that the greatest
monastery in Christendom was destroyed by Allied bombers. Its destruction represents hubris,
group-think, error, and misrepresentation on the part of the Allies. The destruction would lead to loss of
architectural detailing, loss of artwork, loss of human life, and the loss of what sanctuary means. Like
many stories it embodies a variety of events, unfortunate occurrences, and foolish
thoughts put into action. Unfortunately, it is more about the miscalculations of man rather than about the better angels of our nature. The Monastery that was destroyed sat 1,500
feet above the valley floor. As
described by Rick Atkinson in his book The Day of Battle: “the great
abbey abruptly loomed on the pinnacle, trapezoidal and majestic seven acres of
Travertino stone with a facade twice as long as that of Buckingham
Palace.” This great monastery sat on a
precipice northwest from the confluence of the Rapido and Liri Rivers,
among the mountains of central Italy.
Monte Cassino Abbey prior to 1944 bombing |
This was the grand abbey of Monte Cassino near Cassino,
Italy. It was the first abbey founded by St Benedict who would write a book
simply known as The Rule. This book would outline in a simple, yet rather
elegant manner, the rules for western monasticism.
The book has stood the test of time better than the abbey in which it
was conceived. St Benedict of Nursia was
born in 480 AD, and would found the abbey in 529 on the site of a pagan temple
to Apollo. The Patron Saint of Europe,
Benedict would be one of the people to lead a continent to a new civilization follwing the decline and fall of the Roman Empire.
Abbey above village of Cassino |
Unfortunately, the Allied bombing in 1944 was not be the
first time the abbey had been destroyed. Chaos would reign in much of Europe with the fall of the
Roman Empire in the late fifth century.
Monasteries were one of the few places to keep the flame of knowledge
alive and well. They did this more than by simply copying texts they had gathered before
the books had been burned by the Huns, Vandals, Visigoths, and
other tribes roaming about the continent leaving destruction in their midst. Monte Cassino would see occupation by the Lombards in
584, with the monks taking over a century to reclaim the home monastery of
Benedict. A forerunner to the Muslim extremists of today, Muslim insurgents would burn the abbey in 883 and make the Islamic State (ISIS) and Boko Harem proud in the manner in which they murdered the Bishop. The monks would once again rebuild. An earthquake would destroy the
abbey in 1349, and once again it would be rebuilt. It would be destroyed in 1799
at the hands of the little Frenchman with a large ego. The abbey was once again rebuilt following the
escapades of Napoléon. Some things are
too important to leave in ruin, and Monte Cassino is one of them. The great abbey would come to have the motto
“Succisa Virecit” meaning “struck
down, it comes to new life.” A fitting motto. The abbey assisted in the preservation of thought, art and
architecture, and in so doing embodies endurance. Perhaps even St. Benedict would be surprised at
its resilience.
The grand attribute of the abbey, the way it sat on the
precipice above the valley, also presented it as a strategic location and a
prime target for attack and destruction.
In 1944, it had the unfortunate location of being between the Allied advances
from southern Italy to the main prize--Rome. While it was rebuilt in the
middle part of the last century following destruction by the Allies, the giant jigsaw to which it was rendered left an untold
number of pieces of carved stones unable to fit into the giant 3-D puzzle of
its recreation. But, it did not have to
be destroyed. But for the hubris of one, the lack of imagination of a second, the lack of backbone of a third, and the human frailty of many the abbey as it
existed on February 4, 1944 would be in place today. It offers lessons to us, and history can be a
great teacher.
Aerial view of destruction |
One lesson we learn in school is that the German leaders of
WWII were not good people. Yet, it was a
German commander who early in the war, took it upon himself to move much of the artwork of Monte
Cassino to the Vatican for safekeeping.
The monks insisted that two monks travel with the truckloads to assure
they reached their destination. Of
course, proving that the German leaders were not good people, 15 crates of artwork would still
end up in the collection of the Herman Goring division near Berlin. Had much of the abbey's artwork not been taken to the Vatican, the Monuments Men would have been even more busy.
While the German commander, Field Marshall Kesselring kept his promise that the abbey and 300 meters beyond would not be
occupied, the area below the clear zone would be well fortified. Abbey outbuildings, and homes were destroyed
to provide for positions and view. Allied artillery would pound the area and by 5
February terrified area residents would pound on the abbey door desiring sanctuary. Atkinson reports
that perhaps up to 2500 refugees were in the abbey, living on the stairs, in the
halls, and bunking on the workshop tables. Benedictine hospitality at work. If present, wine and the famed Benedictine liqueur were probably the drink of choice. During this trying time, Atkinson notes that the abbey log had a simple
recording: “May God shorten these
terrible days.”
The New Zealand dentist turned General, Bernard Fryberg, who had the ear of General Alexander would
push for the destruction of the abbey.
Fryberg would write to American General Clark and Alexander demanding its
destruction. French General Juin, and
American General Keyes would disagree. Keyes took several flights over the
abbey and came to the conclusion that those who claimed they saw Germans in the abbey were
intent on inventing a scene not viewed. The
Germans understood something that Freyberg did not—observation posts dug below
the hill crest were better camouflaged. Alexander
had promised to protect Monte Cassino but we would accede
to Fryberg’s demand. Clark attempted to
forestall the attack, but was unsuccessful.
Clark would note to Alexander that first, no clear evidence placed the Germans in the
abbey. Second, previous efforts to bomb
a building or town to prevent German occupation had always failed. He felt that it would be a shame to destroy such a
treasure, and those who sought refuge within its walls. Finally, he noted that “if the Germans are
not in the monastery now, they certainly will be in the rubble after the bombing
ends.” (Atkinson) Rubble is much better at camouflage than a structure. Clark would accede to the bombing,
but would first dictate a memo noting that General Alexander should not be
meddling within the affairs of his command.
If it was up to the on-ground American commanders in Italy, Monte Cassino likely
would not have been destroyed during WWII. One man, Fryberg insisting on its demolition, and Clark, who
tried to forestall the action but in the end would back down to his superior (Alexander) who
stuck his nose into the tactics of the field commander.
Abbey as it stands today |
On the night before the bombing, Allied planes dropped
leaflets noting that the abbey would be bombed the next morning. Abbey attempts to communicate with the German
lines to arrange safe passage failed.
This may be in part attributed to the death of a young monk who had been
suffering from a fever, and the monks being busy in preparation for a quick burial. In any event, some refugees thought the
leaflets were a ruse by the abbey to get them to leave. One must expect that food and supplies, were
running short, and the Benedictine liqueur likely out. The most well-known abbey
in Christendom was turned into an animal house.
Abbey Chapel |
It was about 9:24 am, on the morning of February 15, 1944
when the first of eight waves of Allied bombers arrived. A total of 250 bombers would appear over
the great abbey. The monks were in the
lower level of the monastery doing morning prayers when they heard explosion,
after explosion, after explosion. By
1:13 pm, the bombing campaign was over.
Atkinson would report that over 600 tons of high explosives and
incendiary devices would be dropped on the abbey, along with hundreds of
artillery rounds. In only a few hours
the abbey, which arose from stone, was now but a pile of smoldering
rubble. No one knows exactly how many
refugees were in the abbey, so no one knows how many died. Bodies were disintegrated into dust due to the concentrated
bombing. The British estimated that 300
to 400 refugees perished during the assault. Folly at
the highest level, as not one German soldier was known to have died. But, due to miss-drops, allied soldiers would die. Two days later, on Thursday, February 17, the abbot with 40
monks and the remaining refugees who were mostly aged, orphaned and widowed, would
depart. In perhaps an understatement of
irony, and but by the grace of God, the great arched stone entrance to the
abbey was left standing. Carved in the
lintel above this still standing entry door was PAX.
General Fryberg |
Proving the remark of that US corporal, British Col. Hunt,
who was an aide to General Alexander, commenting on a German message intercepted prior to the bombing would say that the bombing “was idleness by the man who read the
intercept.” That would have been a British
interpreter. The intercept was first translated
as “Is the HQ in the Abbey? Yes” but the
translator did not read and properly translate the whole intercept. Col Hunt would notice that the translation
did not match the intercept, but unfortunately he was too late to stop the
bombing raid. After questioning the
interpreter it came out that the intercept was only partially translated and it
contained errors. The proper
translation, Hunt discovered was: “Is
the abbot in the monastery? Yes, the
abbot is with the monks in the monastery.” To avoid conflict with the abbey, and civilians, the German soldiers likely kept track of their coming and goings. If the interpreter had read the full last
sentence of the intercept he would have noticed that the original interpretation
of the question which preceded it was not correct. The destruction of the abbey was caused, at
least in part, by a poorly interpreted message, following the folly of a chain
of command where no one wished to fully question the evidence.
Monte Cassino Abbey near present time Photo from Blog of Eric Hollis, OSB |
Once again the Abbey would be rebuilt. Pope Paul VI
would consecrate this rise from the dust in the 1960’s.
But today, rooms within the bowels of the abbey are occupied not by
monks but by pieces that did not fit back within the massive 3-D jig saw
puzzle. Exquisitely carved stone work friezes, frescoes, paintings, and mosaics are left in heaps of leftover debris. Yet, the waste of human life for those seeking sanctuary is even worse. It was a death trap for many
refugees. But, while a building can be
rebuilt, the dead mourned, the human mind can be fragile.
Let us take the example of an American named Walter M. Miller.
Walter M. Miller |
Miller was involved in over fifty bombing missions during
the Second World War, including the assault on Monte Cassino. Some consider this bombing to have been a
traumatic experience for Miller. He
would have PTSD, before PTSD had its current name. At school and during the war Miller called
himself an atheist. But, in 1947, at the age of 25 he became a Roman Catholic. Some believe the experience of Monte Cassino, and the torment it caused would take Miller to an early grave. He committed suicide in 1966. Perhaps he was the last casualty of the bombing. Miller’s greatest known work is A Canticle for
Leibowitz, a novel about the long, slow rebuilding process following
nuclear holocaust. As one commentator
would write:
Miller's epic tale is not a political allegory, but an illustration of the dictum that those who fail to learn from history are condemned to repeat it. Miller once said, that it ‘never occurred to me that Canticle was my own personal response to war until I was writing the first version of the scene where Zerchi lies half buried in the rubble. Then a light bulb came on over my head: "Good God, is this the abbey at Monte Cassino?.... What have I been writing?’
Bernard Fryberg may have well believed the destruction of
the abbey would provide the allies with an advantage. A proper translation may not have affected
Alexander's thoughts. Clark may have realized there
are sometimes you should question a command, particularly when history informs you of the likelihood of a different outcome. A series of human
failings would lead to loss of life, and loss of heritage. The allies, in a measure of deceit reaching the
highest level of government, would quickly shift blame for the attack saying Germans
were in the abbey. Besides saying incontrovertible evidence would be provided to justify the breaking
of a promise to not attack the abbey, the British have yet to provide anything
to the Vatican. To the victor go the
spoils, and the writing of history. It
may have been more a tomb of folly, than a “tomb of miscalculation.” As Walter Miller understood, our past
influences and shapes our future in ways we may not recognize. Unfortunate events help form us, and it is our duty to learn from circumstances provided. As the doomsday clock has now clicked closer
to zero, is peace ever more fleeting?
Unless otherwise noted, images from Google images
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