Wherever you are in Europe, it is safe to say that you are no more than a stone’s throw away from the location of some key historical event. Rome is no different and while the ruins of the old Empire are obvious, there are many more recent stories to be told.

As an avid world war II buff myself, I eagerly sought out stories of the era when I visited Rome late last year. One particular story that had been unknown to me caught my attention.

In 1943, the Allies invaded Sicily and prepared to attack the mainland. The Fascist Grand Council passed a vote of no confidence in Mussolini which led King Vittorio Emanuel II to take advantage of the situation by appointing Marshal Badoglio¹ to head a new military government. The intent to try to extricate themselves from the war led to the Italian surrender on 3 September 1944.

I knew about this but I did not know much about the Italian resistance while Italy was still in the war. Indeed, every time someone mentions the resistance, my first thoughts go to the much-publicised French Resistance.

In March 1944, a column of the German 11th company, 3rd battalion marched and sung their way through Rome. They proceeded through the iconic Piazza di Spagna, heading southwards and turned left into the narrow Via Rasella along their planned route. This battalion was formed out of ethnic German speakers from the South Tyrol, many of whom had even chosen German citizenship over their Italian one. Some were battle-hardened veterans from the Russian Front who had opted to join this battalion rather than face another posting on the Eastern front.

Did you know the Spanish Steps, in Piazza di Spagna, are French, not Spanish?

The whole intent behind this procession was to intimidate and suppress the Resistance.

Unbeknown to the Germans, the Communist backed Gruppo d’Azione Patriottica (“Patriotic Action Group”) had other plans for that day. Just as the procession approached, a partisan disguised as a street cleaner manoeuvred a cart into position in Via Rasella while lookouts kept watch. The cart concealed an improvised explosive device consisting of 12 kilograms of TNT packed in a steel case inserted into another bag containing an additional six kilograms of TNT and TNT filled iron tubing.

When the battalion was 40 seconds away from the cart, the fuse was lit.

The resultant explosion killed 28 SS policemen and 2 civilian bystanders. A few more died of their injuries within days. The communists melted away into the crowd and were not found.

It is hard to believe that this happened along this quiet Roman street so many years ago. There are many narrow roads lined by tall buildings all around Rome – and all around the Mediterranean – and to the unsuspecting eye, this is just one other.

This attack led to the Ardeatine massacre² – it was agreed that the execution of 10 Italians for every German killed would be appropriate punishment. Most of the people selected for death were prisoners but the numbers were padded with “other identified undesirables”, including residents of Via Rasella who were considered to be in league with the partisans. The total death toll from the bombing rose to 33 leading to 330 Italians ear-marked for execution.

The youngest was 15 years old.

The execution was planned in the Fosse Ardeatine, just south of Rome and while the site of the mass murder was concealed with explosives to hide the bodies, it was discovered after one year and the dead were properly buried at last.

Controversy over this episode raged for years with some, including the Vatican, claiming that the partisan attack was not a legitimate act of war but an act of terrorism that should be deplored.

Next time you are in Rome, why not take 10 minutes out of your schedule to walk the short distance from Piazza Spagna to Via Rasella and spare a thought for all those who died unnecessarily here.

Piazza Spagna, or Spain’s Square is at the foot of the popular Spanish steps. Not everyone knows these steps are not Spanish at all.

References

1. Pietro Badoglio; Encyclopedia Britannica; 2018-10-28[↩]
2. Death in Rome: The Life and Times of a Book; Robert Katz; (Retrieved 2019-06-29) [↩]

Remember: links were correct at time of publication.