Second Lieutenant
Harold Luxton Renall
Conflict:
WW2
Additional Information:
Son of Harold Robert Richmond Renall and of Elizabeth Myra Renall (nee Luxton), of Carterton, Wellington, New Zealand.
References:
NZ WAR GRAVES
CONTRIBUTED
Public Contributions:
The squadron's task, it will be remembered, was to tackle the zigzag road from Cassino to the monastery. Two of its officers, Lieutenants Percy Brooks and ‘Buck’ Renall, had been flown over the r...oute they were to take and had returned impressed with its difficulties. The Indians' plan was that their battalions would exploit southwards from Castle Hill along the eastern slopes of Montecassino, capturing in turn the hairpin bends of the hill road and climbing until they reached the flat crest of Point 435, Hangman's Hill. This hill took its name from the gibbet-like pylon carrying the cable of an old aerial ropeway between the Monastery and the town. From Hangman's Hill, which was less than 300 yards from the monastery, 1/4 Essex Regiment would make the crucial last stage of the attack. To support the Indians one C Squadron troop was to try to make its way up to below Hangman's Hill via Point 202. Major Barton thought the task impossible. ‘I was very much against this part of the plan as it appeared quite obvious that it would entail far too much engineering work to make a track,’ he says. ‘However, the Indians were very insistent and I agreed to send Sergeant Morris with their engineer officer to make a recce the night of the attack and decide. Tragically Alan Morris was killed on this recce and the officer, after a number of escapes, got back and reported the route hopeless. I was very upset over this as Alan Morris was an outstanding NCO and we could ill afford to lose him….’ The rendezvous with the rest of the force was at Madras Circus, at the head of Cavendish road. It took about three hours to complete the journey. On the first stretch, by devious muddy tracks to Cairo village, mule trains blocked the way; on Cavendish road the camouflage nets erected to hide the road from enemy guns were not high enough in places and became entangled with the tanks' turrets. It was daylight before the rendezvous was reached. With Second-Lieutenant Hazlett's troop in the lead, the squadron moved off about half past seven up a grassy valley between rough, bush-covered hills. The gradient was gentle and the track fairly good, although sown with S-mines (‘One could see them going off like crackers under the tracks’) and broken up with patches of very soft going between outcrops of rock. Within a few minutes Hazlett's tank was bogged in one of these patches or in a shell hole, and two others, including that carrying the Colonel, had lost tracks—they had moved only about 300 yards from Madras Circus. Hazlett transferred to his sergeant's tank. Off the track large boulders and shell craters made the going very bad, and Second-Lieutenant Bill de Lautour's tank shed a track trying to climb a rocky spur on Phantom Ridge, from which he was to give covering fire. Following Hazlett's example, he took his corporal's tank. So far the leading tanks had met opposition only from infantry as the self-propelled guns had knocked out most effectively an enemy blockhouse OP opposite the French lines. Enemy mortars now opened fire and the gear strapped on Captain Moodie's tank was set alight. At this stage the hills converged on the track and the tanks had to pass one at a time through a bottleneck where the path narrowed to only a few yards between bushy slopes. Second-Lieutenant ‘Buck’ Renall forced a way through after blasting out a machine-gun post. About this point the advance came under heavy artillery fire. With Renall at the head of the squadron was Corporal Dick Jones, a tank commander in Renall's troop. He and his troop commander had given each other covering fire as they alternated in the lead, their advance being covered in turn by the tanks behind them. Jones had trouble from enemy snipers. ‘It was getting very uncomfortable with the head out,’ he reports. ‘I tried commanding with the turret closed, using the periscope, but between fumes from the guns and the rough going found it impossible.’ He continues: Buck called (on the wireless) to say that we would advance to Albaneta House in two-up formation, covering the left scrubby hillside while Jack Hazlett looked after our right with his troop. Our ‘Two-up’ formation consisted of Buck and myself forward with covering fire from our Sergeant's tank. We decided to advance, ‘leap-frogging’ each other with approximately 300 yard bounds, each giving covering fire in turn. Here we found for the first time how vulnerable a tank is on the move in rough going. I tried at first to secure hull-down positions at the end of each advance, but soon gave up this idea as we nearly got stuck twice, and anyway our advance was much quicker than we anticipated. Just as Buck gave the word to move a German crawled out of the scrub waving a white flag. Here I think that if we had had Infantry we could have captured many prisoners as they were starting to appear everywhere, but just then our covering tanks were through and opened up. As we leap-frogged our way forward it became obvious that we had caught Jerry napping. Just through the gap Buck wiped out a machine-gun nest, the Germans bravely firing away at us until the end. All the way we pounded the hillside and I think we must have inflicted heavy casualties as we could pick up a good few Germans moving about. As we advanced up the plateau we were all conscious of a narrow part, and my crew knew as well as I that if Jerry had anything heavy in the ‘Nunnery’ (Albaneta House) we would be a sitting shot. With the way our advance had gone it was our tank's turn to advance first, through the ‘bottle neck’, as Buck and I had been calling it. As we prepared to advance through I told our driver, Jack Hodge, to drive as fast as possible, swerving from side to side. Buck opened up on Albaneta House and Jack Hazlett's troop was also concentrating on it. When it was practically obscured by dust we moved. In the turret we tossed about as the tank swerved and bucked. I am sure we all held our breath in spite of this. When we stopped Steve Lewis, our gunner, opened up on the ‘Nunnery’ with A.P. and H.E., while Joe Costello, our spare driver, raked it with his .30 Browning, much to his delight. Buck moved through while we kept up the bombardment. Meanwhile, on C Squadron's right flank the Indian reconnaissance squadron and some of 760 US Tank Battalion's Honeys tried to clear the Phantom Ridge area. Their objective was Point 575, 700 yards west-north-west of Albaneta House. They struck bad going and were heavily shelled. Most of the reconnaissance squadron's tanks lost tracks and the squadron ended a short, sharp action with only one tank intact. One American tank crew was taken prisoner. The attempt was given up and the American Honeys followed C Squadron towards Albaneta. Having safely passed through the second bottleneck the tanks opened fire on Albaneta House, which lay a little below them on a flat plateau overlooking a steep gully to the west. A big, square, stone building with thick walls built of ‘something very like Oamaru stone’, the farmhouse had already taken a pounding from our artillery and from bombs. Renall's three tanks and Hazlett's two dusted it over again without much visible effect and then searched the hillside of Point 593 for enemy weapon pits, but the Indians' lines were so close to the Germans' that the tanks' fire was restricted. Major Barton reported back that Albaneta House ‘appeared to be under control’ and moved Renall's troop down to the flat ground in front of it—a treacherously soft boggy area. Hazlett's troop followed Renall. Barton continues their story: We had orders to try and see what the chances were of getting around the corner to the Monastery. We knew from the aerial photos that a track of some kind was in existence but it did not look very promising. From our position it was not possible to see the track. I ordered Buck Renall to have a try and see what the reaction was. Jack Hazlett's two tanks were to cover Albaneta House as we were certain some Jerries must be there—we had seen four pop up from behind a wall some time earlier. It was not possible to get around the rear of the house as it was perched on the edge of a gully and the going was too tough. All this time we had been shelled with varying degrees of intensity, some of it very heavy stuff which fortunately had little effect except to make sightseeing out of the turret undesirable. Renall's troop (I'm not sure whether he had three or two tanks at this stage) disappeared around the corner and we waited anxiously to hear from him. All went well for a while and then silence. I cannot remember now whether we ever heard any more over the air from Buck Renall. I think not as it must have been one of his crew called up and obviously something serious was wrong. The next moment his tank appeared and came out—holed several times with bazookas. Buck was killed…. [He was shot through the head by a sniper.] His other tanks had a further attempt with equally disastrous results—a … [wireless operator, Tom Middleton] killed and one or two of the crew badly wounded. Jones lost an arm in one of these tanks. Bazookas and snipers did the damage. I am hazy about the third tank but I know that one pulled out and reported it was holed badly and I think casualties in the crew. To complicate matters this tank got badly stuck on the track up from the flat by Albaneta. We tried to get smoke down to let the crew make a dash for it as the sniping was severe. I was very reluctant to send down another tank (we only had about three genuine runners left anyway) as its chances of being stuck were obvious—the few tanks had churned up the soft going very badly. I had just decided that they would have to make a dash for it when a Yank Honey dashed up alongside and took all the crew off—it was a gallant effort as they were very likely to have become bogged alongside…. Throughout the day they displayed great dash and calmness, especially as they had ‘open’ Honeys. Their casualties were very heavy as a consequence. We greatly admired them. The tank crew rescued by the Americans was commanded by Corporal Reg Lennie. He had taken his tank close up to Albaneta House, where a shot had disabled one of its motors, and on the way back it had bellied on the edge of a bomb crater in the boggy ground. Enemy mortars quickly concentrated on this sitting target and accurate spandau fire smashed both periscopes and kept the crew sealed under their hatches. Smoke was put down but was dispersed by the wind. All the remaining tanks then opened fire on the farmhouse and the surrounding enemy positions while two American Honeys dashed in and picked up the crew. The rain of shells on the soft stone walls of the house quickly raised a dense pall of dust, ‘which soon enveloped the tank and allowed the crew to bale out into the straddling open-topped Honeys.’ Before they could get out the crew had to ‘bash open’ the turret hatch with empty shell cases as a hit from a mortar bomb had jammed it, but the four men escaped unharmed. It was about this time—or probably a little earlier—that Lieutenant Hazlett was killed. Major Barton tells what happened: During these attempts to get around the corner a most distressing incident occurred. Jack Hazlett was very close to Albaneta House covering Renall and keeping an eye on Albaneta when his camouflage net which he was carrying on the back of his tank caught fire. Jack jumped out of his turret to pull it away and was shot dead from Albaneta. His wireless operator and gunner (Sorich and Dasler) also got out—I have never understood why they did—and dived into a huge bombhole alongside and both perished either from shelling or snipers from Albaneta—I think shelling as we were having a nasty strafing at the time. Shorty Gallagher and Bill Welch were the drivers and eventually brought the tank out, much holed by bazookas. They put up a magnificent show and Gallagher received the MM…. It was a tragic affair. Dasler and Sorich if they had remained would have come out…. The death of Stuffy Hazlett was a severe blow to the Squadron. His never failing good humour and commonsense, as well as his renowned unorthodox methods, had endeared him to us all—he was sadly missed. At the risk of a little repetition, the story of the advance by Renall's troop, now two tanks strong, is well worth hearing at first hand. It is told by Corporal Jones, commander of the surviving tank, who did not escape from the action unscathed. He writes: Buck came on the air to say our other tank was bogged and that we were to recce for an advance route to the Monastery. It was a wonderful experience being so close after weeks of cowering under its domination, and to think we could actually fire at it directly. It was at this time I realized that our ammunition was running low. Our Browning tins were nearly empty and our 75mm racks were getting bare. Every shot had to count now. We turned left and went forward a hundred yards or so and somebody on the air said to ‘put out that fire on that tank’. While I was looking round to see if it was ours I saw the camouflage net on Jack's burning and Jack [Hazlett] climbing out to extinguish it. Seconds later he fell off the tank. We advanced another stage to the left but shortage of ammunition didn't allow us to do the hill (Point 593) on our left over as thoroughly as we had on our advance, and I am positive that this was the reason for our downfall. I moved forward a bit further to get a better view of the track to the monastery and the shelling was terrific. We nearly got stuck, only superb driving by Jack Hodge getting us out. Word came that Buck was killed. I realized that our reconnaissance would have to be quick as we couldn't fire our 75mm much and our Browning (co-ax.) was terribly hot and wasting ammunition by ‘running away’, in spite of the oil which Steve threw over it. It was while looking at the possible route that we were hit. Regaining consciousness I saw that my arm was bleeding badly and must have a tourniquet quickly. I looked up to see Joe Costello gazing through the turret at me. How he wasn't hit is a mystery. Steve was slumped over his 75mm, bleeding badly from his back and head. Tom Middleton was lying on the floor, having fallen off his seat by his wireless. With difficulty I managed to traverse the turret by hand to allow Jack to scramble through to apply the tourniquet. This applied, I told Jack to try the motors. It was with a prayer on our lips he pressed the starter. The left engine roared into life to be followed by the right immediately afterwards. With his head out of the driver's hatch, the better to see and get maximum speed, Jack drove out through our own tanks, which were still pounding away at the enemy, to the forward CCS. The vital area was now Point 593—it was obvious that the attack could not succeed until the hill had been cleared. Dug in on its shaggy western slopes in positions hidden in dense scrub, the enemy's riflemen in their spotted camouflage suits were hard to pick up and harder still to hit. Their persistent and accurate sniping forced the tank commanders to keep their heads inside their turrets or permitted them only an occasional quick glance. Half-blinded, several tanks ran into difficulties. Giving each other cover against bazooka attack, the tanks strafed the enemy weapon pits but without infantry help could not clear them. Before the squadron could continue its dash to the monastery, infantry would have to come up to consolidate the ground gained. At this point an attempt was made by Second-Lieutenant de Lautour to get his remaining tank towards the monastery, about 1400 yards away along a paved stone track, but the shelling was too heavy and the enemy's bazookas and snipers too persistent. With great dash and determination the American Honeys also tried in the late afternoon to advance round the southern shoulder of Point 593, but they suffered heavy casualties—seven tanks were lost—and had to pull out. Major Barton was recalled to Madras Circus for a conference and the five surviving tanks under Captain Moodie took up a position on the track north of Albaneta House where they were hidden from enemy OPs. They stayed there the rest of the day waiting for infantry support and further orders. Except for sniping and a little shelling, the enemy held his fire, apparently waiting to see whether infantry would join the tanks. A few paratroopers who tried to stalk the tanks from the scrub on Point 593 were driven off by machine-gun fire. Moodie also called up three or four of the American Honeys and sent them to a crest above the track to harass enemy infantry to the west. With only five runners left in the squadron and with daylight going fast, the chances of advancing to the monastery were now very slight indeed. The Gurkhas and Essex men on Hangman's Hill had more than enough troubles of their own and could make no attempt to link up with the tanks from the east. Without such support and with no infantry to back them, the tanks could make no headway and were ordered by wireless from Madras Circus to return there. They began to withdraw about dusk. Had they stayed later they would have become an easy prey to German infantry with bazookas or to counter-attacks already brewing on Phantom Ridge. In the failing light some of the enemy followed the tanks back part of the way while the flashes of their small-arms fire lit up the bushy slopes on both sides of the valley. We spent the night licking our wounds and trying to get some much-needed sleep [Major Barton continues]. We were shelled fairly frequently and Jim Moodie was wounded and sent down next day. The Germans did not react in any other way. The Tommies and Yanks left us the following night. Shelling was heavy at times and we had the bad luck to have George Hanrahan—my driver— very badly wounded, and also Bell, my spare driver. Bell died of wounds in an Indian CCS. We got up supplies by jeep—Bob Newlands being his usual grand self and we lacked nothing. Bill Dalrymple and his staff did what they could in the way of repairs…. The attack was the squadron's second disappointment within a week. It had lost nine tanks in the action (five were later recovered and brought back) and had had two officers and three other ranks killed and one officer and eight men wounded. What had it accomplished in return? It had taken the enemy by surprise and had penetrated well behind his lines in difficult country which he had apparently believed impassable to tanks for he had laid no anti-tank mines. It had helped to take some of the pressure off the sorely-tried troops isolated on Hangman's Hill. Lieutenant Renall is credited by an eye-witness as having got to within 1000 yards of the monastery; had there been any prospect of consolidation the dash to the abbey might have been ‘on’, although it is doubtful whether the track was wide enough for Shermans all the way. Sapper help would probably have been needed to open the road and under the heavy fire their employment was not possible. The enemy had reacted nervously: he had retaliated with a hail of mortar and artillery fire, and although he scored hits with what is believed to have been an 88-millimetre gun, his snipers and bazookas caused most of C Squadron's casualties. Very few Germans were seen but they fought courageously: at one time paratroopers came as close as 30 yards and engaged the tanks with hand grenades and rifles. Most of the tank casualties, however, were caused by mechanical failure, broken tracks or bogging, rather than by the enemy's fire—an indication that he had been caught unawares and was badly flustered. An intercepted wireless message reported ‘Enemy tanks broken through our centre, inf attack imminent’; another agitated message claimed that the attacking force was ‘using new tank with rubber tracks that can climb rocks’. The attack had little effect on the main battle for Cassino. It was primarily a raid—a ‘side show’ General Freyberg called it—one arm of a pair of pincers that could accomplish nothing without the other. But to get tanks behind Point 593 into the heart of the enemy defences was a feat of skill and determination which, if it had small result, was at least an achievement that provided one bright spot in a week of troubles and frustrations. In a letter of appreciation to the squadron commander on the tanks' part in ‘the cavalry ride to Albaneta House’, General Galloway, the commander of 4 Indian Division, described the attack as ‘a very valuable diversion and a great effort on your part’. The squadron, he said, had made a real contribution to the battle both in the casualties it had inflicted on the enemy and in the fact that the possibility of the operation being repeated would ‘undoubtedly prevent the enemy from thinning out and so finding reserves for the main battles.’ Read MoreAdd a Story or Photo
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Casualty
Service Number:
31780
Name:
Harold Luxton Renall Rank:
Second Lieutenant
Date of Birth:
Not known
Next of Kin:
Mrs E.B.M. Renall (mother), Kokatau, Caterton, Wairarapa, New Zealand
Date of Enlistment:
Not known
Enlistment Address:
Kokatau, Caterton, Wairarapa, New Zealand
Occupation on Enlistment:
Farmer Armed Force:
Army
Unit:
New Zealand Armoured Corps, 20 Regiment
Casualty Details
Cause of Death:
Died of wounds
Date of Death:
19 March 1944
Day of Death:
Sunday
Age at Death:
23
Conflict:
WW2
Embarkation Details
Embarkation Body:
Second New Zealand Expeditionary Force (2NZEF)
Text in italics supplied by Cenotaph Online, Auckland War Memorial Museum