An Englishman Abroad Read online

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to all those who, at least once in their life (just like the author), have shown courage (despite a dying father and a dishonest woman).

  Given that its subject matter comprises the adventures of an Englishman, the author wishes to remember, affectionately and nostalgically, another Englishman whose (quite different) deeds are very dear to him: Keith John Moon, an enormously talented young man, who ‘hoped to die before he got old’. He succeeded, but his self-destruction took place amidst the indifference of those who should have and could have helped him.

  Contents

  Foreword

  Prologue

  Acknowledgements

  Preface

  List of Acronyms

  1 Mallaby’s Early Years, 1919–39

  2 Special Operations Executive

  3 Operation Neck, 14 August 1943: The First Mission

  4 From Disaster to Triumph: Mallaby, the Armistice and the Allied ­Invasion, August–September 1943

  5 The Second Mission: Mallaby and the German Surrender, ­February–March 1945

  6 Aftermath

  Bibliography

  Endnotes

  Plates

  foreword

  A writer of spy novels like Ken Follett would certainly enjoy the story narrated in this book by Gianluca Barneschi, a forensic and committed researcher into the dark and controversial aspects of a dramatic moment in recent Italian history – the events immediately preceding, accompanying and following the 8 September 1943 armistice. For years, Barneschi has been trawling through public and private archives and collecting source documents and accounts, largely unpublished, seeking to shed light on the mysteries, misunderstandings, ambiguities, and acts of cunning or indolence that, as a whole, marked this event. The latter has been transformed into a symbolic milestone, widely discussed in historiography, marking the ‘end’ or rather the ‘rebirth’ of the nation.

  The story of the British special agent Dick Mallaby is the distillation of this long research, one piece of the puzzle that Barneschi is attempting to patiently and scientifically put together. Such details usually escape the attention of macrohistory, but, on closer inspection, this piece turns out to be important in creating a more coherent and broader depiction of events.

  In most studies dedicated to the dramatic Italian crisis of September 1943, the figure of Mallaby does not appear. At best, Mallaby appears only in passing, and unnamed: a handsome polyglot Englishman seen disembarking, on the afternoon of 10 September 1943, in the port of Brindisi from the corvette Baionetta, which – bearing King Vittorio Emanuele III, Marshal Pietro Badoglio, and several other members of the Italian royal family and retinue, both military and government – had arrived under the escort of the cruiser Scipione.

  Whilst the presence of Mallaby on board the Baionetta failed to arouse the curiosity of many scholars, who set it aside as an unimportant or secondary fact, it led Barneschi to research both this Englishman and the reasons why he was accompanying the Italian king and head of government following their flight from Rome in the aftermath of the proclamation of the armistice.

  From this curiosity Barneschi’s research was born. With great patience, he has pored over historical works and accounts, rummaged through Italian and foreign archives, traced Mallaby’s surviving relatives, gaining their trust and overcoming their doubts and reticence, and tracked down and interviewed eyewitnesses.

  The results are to be found in this book, which, for the first time, reconstructs secret agent Dick Mallaby’s background, and his first mission in Italy. It makes for an exciting tale, if only for the fact that – due to a strange ensemble of circumstances (so often a determining factor in historical events) – the protagonist became, in spite of himself but to his good fortune, a key player in the relations between the Badoglio government and the Allies. Captured by the Italians after parachuting into Lake Como under a full moon on 14 August 1943 on an intelligence mission, the British agent avoided the customary fate of enemy spies caught in the act – the firing squad – because his very capture proved useful to the armistice negotiations that Italy was conducting (via Brigadier-General Giuseppe Castellano) with the Allies. Mallaby, with British approval of course, became, by means of wireless communication, the conduit of dialogue and negotiation between the Italian Supreme Command and the Allied Force HQ in Algiers.

  With both care and efficiency (just like in his previous work Balvano 1944: Indagine su un disastro rimosso), Barneschi has analysed the incoming and outgoing radio communications, and compared their contents with both the accounts of those who took part in the armistice negotiations and historical research. The result is a fresh reconstruction of events that will certainly find a following in future works.

  An identical approach – with identical results – has been used for Mallaby’s second Italian mission. By analysing the same sources, Barneschi manages to reveal, after 70 years, new aspects of a key moment in World War II, further demonstrating that macrohistory is made up of (what appear to be) multiple microhistorical events.

  Above all, the whole allows us to grasp the often fundamental importance of the contribution that men like Mallaby have made, consciously or obliviously, to history.

  Francesco Perfetti

  Professor of Contemporary History

  Faculty of Political Sciences

  LUISS Guido Carli University

  Rome

  prologue

  The credit of success is claimed by all, while a disaster is attributed to one alone.

  Tacitus, Agricola (27)

  Life is like a play: it is not the length, but the excellence of the acting that matters.

  Seneca, Moral Letters to Lucilius (77)

  Lake Como, 14 August 1943 – a full moon night.

  ‘Who are you, then, eh? A fisherman?’

  With threatening sarcasm typical of those who have caught their prey, a small group of Italians was taunting a soaking wet, helpless young Englishman who had just been picked up.

  The young man was thinking hard, trying to come up with something plausible and useful. His first special mission had ended in immediate failure. There was no means of escape and the most likely next step was, at best, to be shot, after a summary process – providing that some Italian hothead did not exact rapid revenge for some recent air raid by the young man’s compatriots – not to mention the prospect of torture.

  At this point, the young man was focusing solely on continuing to live beyond his 24 years; even a lengthy prison sentence seemed like a dream outcome.

  Cecil Richard Dallimore-Mallaby (known as Dick) could never have imagined that, thanks to several fatal but favourable coincidences, in a few days he would be the right person, in the right place, at the right time, and instead of staring death in the face, would be granted full protection. Moreover, the young Englishman could have no idea of his imminent role as actor in and witness to the greatest institutional tragedy in the country where he had grown up, and where he would later return to live, and end his days.

  acknowledgements

  The publication of a book in English written by an Italian amateur historian is something of an achievement and almost makes for a case study. When I began my research, I had little idea of what I would go on to discover. The various difficulties encountered along the way never failed to deter me, given that those things that are hardest fought turn out to be the most satisfying; the results speak for themselves now, and offer an invitation to continue.

  Although our protagonist Dick Mallaby was sadly unavailable to me in my 20 years of research, I have met many of his wonderful relatives.

  Dick’s son Richard ‘Vaky’ Mallaby opened up the entire family archive to me
. Christine Joyce Northcote-Marks Dallimore-Mallaby, Dick’s widow, was kind enough to allow me to interview her and after 70 years she finally felt able to speak freely about her husband’s wartime activities. I would also like to thank Dick’s daughters, Caroline and Elisabeth, for their kind collaboration; Alessandra Mallaby, Dick’s niece, for allowing me to visit Poggio Pinci, where Dick lived and rests; Pia Teresa Mallaby; Nicola and Francesco Barresi; Elettra Mallaby; and Neil Chapman.

  My son Pietro accompanied me on a research mission that ended with him dropping into Roma Termini station. He also maintained the ‘most secret’ status relating to the publication of this book with ‘Mami’, sharing my sufferings. I hope he enjoyed it and is proud of his father (who adores him, even if he doesn’t make as much a fuss of him as he sometimes should). As regards to my Antonella, I must thank her again for these 32 years of emotions, love and complicity. She is the other half of ‘the last couple left’, in this brilliant and strong enduring ménage à deux that looks so much like us. But even considering that she was unaware of my project, moving all the papers for this book in a crucial moment was not a useful move. My mother Fatima helped check the text, especially for details about the House of Savoy, continuing her almost 60-year-long role as a loving mother. My sister Cristiana and her husband, Ramòn, helped with the translation of some far-from-Shakespearean passages, and gathered documents in the United States. My cousin and brother-in-law Lorenzo Dianzani was a skilled and patient consultant.

  I thank the following academics and experts: Elena Aga Rossi; Roderick Bailey (he may regret ever meeting me); Mireno Berrettini; Giuseppe Parlato; Francesco Perfetti (for the flattering Preface and insertions in Nuova Storia Contemporanea); Michele Sarfatti (for details of his father Giacomino’s activities); Marco Zaganella; Professor Aldo G. Ricci; then Franco Nudi at the Archivio Centrale dello Stato; Alessandro Gionfrida at the Ufficio Storico dello Stato Maggiore dell’Esercito; Giancarlo Montinaro and Massimiliano Barlattani at the Ufficio Storico dell’Aeronautica Militare; and Herb Pankratz of the Eisenhower Presidential Library in Abilene, Kansas.

  Well deserved thanks are also due to Fabio Andriola, for promoting my book in the magazine Storia in Rete; Armando Ferracuti, Alessandro Tuzza, Laura Vivio and Dana Lloyd Thomas, for their archival research; and Mauro Taddei for allowing me to consult Henry Boutigny’s unpublished diary.

  I am grateful to the following eyewitnesses to the events described in this work: Don Giovanni Barbareschi; Tommaso D’Antuono; Fabio and Lorenzo Magi; Ina Elisabeth Mann; and Anna Maria Rusconi. Thanks are also due to the following for their contributions: Saverio Addante; Antonio Albanese; Gregory Alegi; Francesco Arcieri; Giovanni Enrico Arcieri; Manuela Baldi; Claudia Banella; Roberto Barzanti; Paolo Bertoia; Loriano Bessi; Stefano Bodini; Aloisio Bonfanti; Francesco Valerio Caltagirone; Laura Cancellieri; Luca Caneschi; Corrado Chiariello; Pasquale Coppola; Maria Costabile; Francesco Crispino; Alda Dalzini; Augusto Dami; Angelo De Nardis; Mario De Vita; Renato Dionisi; Margherita Di Rauso; Silvia Franceschini; Mimmo Franzinelli; Francesca Garello; Emilio Gin; Marco Tullio Giordana; Antonella Grossi; Guariente Guarienti; Marco Imbimbo; Tom Kington; Maria Kisseloff; the youthful but nigh-on-100-year-old Sergio Lepri; Marco Lungo; Roberto Marabini; Guglielmo Marchionno; Stefano Mencaroni; Aldo Minghelli; Alberto Montalbani; Franco Morosini; Massimo Mortari; Giuseppe Ludovico Motti Barsini; Mauricio Negrao; Corrado Ocone; Roberto Olla; Angelo Ottavianelli; Emilio Pappagello; Ivano Patitucci; Cesare Pellegrini; Federico Piana; Maurizio Pini; Gloria Provedi; Giuseppe Quilichini; Susanna Sala; Raimondo Sancassani; Anna Savini; Carla Scarozza; Vito Scelsi; Renato Sorace; Paolo Spiga; Nick Squires; Giacomo Steiner; Alberto Tabbì; Paolo Torino; Simona Trevisi; Lelio Triolo; Maria Giuditta and Maria Rosaria Valorani; William Ward; and Roberto Zanella.

  For the events of 23 September 2016 in Asciano, I thank Mayor Paolo Bonari, Deputy Mayor Fabrizio Nucci and Counsellor Lucia Angelini, as well as Pierluigi Puglia and Colonel Lindsay MacDuff of the British Embassy in Rome.

  Moriano Micheli took care of editing the movie for the book’s presentation, comme d’habitude at nighttime.

  The dependable Maria Maddalena Trina carried out numerous complicated activities with customary calm and resignation.

  For this English edition, I would like to thank Nikolai Bogdanovic, Marcus Cowper, Gemma Gardner, Nigel Newton, Adriano Ossola, and Richard Sullivan.

  G. B.

  preface

  For the time will come when they will not endure sound doctrine; but after their own lusts shall they heap to themselves teachers, having itching ears;

  And they shall turn away their ears from the truth, and shall be turned unto fables.

  Second Epistle of Paul the Apostle to

  Timothy, 4:3–4

  I help the old to remember and the young to understand.

  Gervase Cowell, MBE (1926–2000)

  Tradition is the handing down of the flame and not the worshipping of ashes.

  Gustav Mahler (1860–1911)

  For the past 30 years, I have been studying and analysing the events of summer 1943 in Italy with the firm conviction that the consequences continue to this day, and, above all, that there is still much to discover and make known.

  What follows is a tangible demonstration of this.

  The study of sources and documents, both Italian and foreign, relating to the events surrounding the un­conditional Italian surrender to the Allies (which culminated in the unexpected arrival in Brindisi, on 10 September 1943, of the Italian king, queen, crown prince, head of government, chief of the general staff and many other VIPs) offers up brief mentions of a certain Dick Mallaby, who is sometimes described as an Englishman, at other times – in erroneous sources – as an American.

  What resulted was thus a logical, embryonic question: who was Dick Mallaby? Following further analysis and research, the question became: what was he doing there, and why was an Englishman part of this elite group, composed of members of the Italian royal family and political–military leaders, which had travelled from Rome to Brindisi?

  David Stafford, in his book Mission Accomplished: SOE and Italy 1943–1945, succinctly summarized the object of my curiosity:

  Among those disembarking from the Baionetta was a blond young man in his early twenties. Despite his fluent Italian, he was a member of neither the government nor the Supreme Command. In fact, he was not even an Italian. He was an Englishman, and his name was Cecil Richard Mallaby.1

  This initial curiosity on my part has resulted in a 20-year-long investigation, the substantial results of which are presented in this volume.

  The 70-year-long absence of in-depth research into, and general interest in, Dick Mallaby’s two war missions is astonishing.

  Having uncovered very important papers in Italian, US and British archives; having acquired key documents, kindly made available by the Mallaby family (after five years of asking, finally breaking the chains of secrecy); and having interviewed Mallaby’s wife and son, as well as eyewitnesses, it has been possible to accurately recon­struct, for the first time, not only how and why in September 1943 Dick Mallaby came to be in Brindisi, but also how in 1945 he managed to negotiate with the Supreme Commander of SS forces in Italy, Karl Wolff, and to do it in such a way as to confuse historians for decades.

  In short, I discovered a highly distinctive character, who was the protagonist in and witness to historical events, the details of which remained largely unknown.

  Having spent years analysing Mallaby’s missions as part of SOE, it seems that he certainly could have been, and perhaps was, an excellent source of inspiration for many fictional characters such as James Bond. His first mission in 1943 was among the first ever to involve parachuting into water at night, bearing cryptographic codes and special technology, and, lacking any clever disguise or means of concealment, he attempted to carry out a risky operation in full enemy territory with the near certainty of being killed if captured. Even his second mission in 1945, which featured a humbler o
pening scene comprising a hard march over the snow-covered mountains, featured highly dramatic moments.

  It is therefore somewhat surprising that in Mallaby’s native Great Britain, his heroic deeds and the events which he witnessed and in which he played a key role were neither the subject of more extensive research, nor more widely disseminated.

  This is, perhaps, an indirect consequence of a disinterest in (or contempt for) all things Italian among some of Mallaby’s compatriots, as a form of payback for the events that took place between 1922 and 1945. David Stafford, in his previously cited work, confirms this, in the context of his broad and balanced reasoning referring to myths, embellishment and posthumous distortions relating to the resistance movements in Italy.2 The narrow-minded attitudes of the time demonstrate an ignorance of not only all the positive and brave achievements of the Italians, but also, and above all, the considerable historic achievements in Italy that can be credited to the British operatives there.

  As a partial justification, it should be noted that the part played by SOE in the historical events which featured Mallaby was kept secret for a long time; even the very existence of SOE was officially denied for several decades.

  In my first published work, Balvano 1944, I dealt with a terrible, little-known event; in this work, it is the turn of the little-known deeds of a man who deserves wider fame.

  Dick Mallaby’s story is one of a man who, although called upon to improvise difficult and important actions – far greater than those initially foreseen – completed his missions in an excellent and fruitful way, becoming the right person, in the right place, at the right time, and proving how the reality of the situation can surpass one’s wildest imagination.

  He was twice destined by chance to be in the right place, at the right time, but he also knew how to use his courage and his intelligence to improvise in the right way.

  In the 21st century, equally by chance, the task of disclosing the achievements of Cecil Richard Dallimore-Mallaby to public attention fell to the present author, a lawyer born in the ‘Eternal City’ of Rome, who is passionate about history, and seeks to apply the same bespoke approach to research as he does to his professional activities, and whose family roots, by chance, lie within a few miles of the places which Mallaby liked the most, in which he spent his childhood, and in which he now lies at rest.