The Trusty Servant Nov 2017 No. 124 | Page 11

N o .124 T he T rusty S ervant the cliff face with a view across to Capri; the undersea port of Baiae, submerged by seismic activity, at which we peered through a glass-bottomed boat; and, for most the highlight, Hadrian’s villa at Tivoli, a sprawling complex which helped fashion the ideas of some of the greatest architects and landscape designers since its rediscovery in the 15 th century. Towards the end of the tour, we paid visits to the linked ports of Ostia and Portus. Few of those present will forget Shaun’s lurid commentary on the cartoons adorning the walls of a foricas, normally closed to public view, and into which holy of holies we had been let by a thankfully non-English-speaking lady guide! 38 Wykehamists were killed during the 22-month Italian Campaign, nine during the four battles at Cassino. After a Herculean and truly international effort over four months, a breakthrough was finally achieved, thanks in no small part to the Polish Carpathian Rifle Division; and most military analysts also consider that the Moroccan Goumiers’ manoeuvre on the mountainous left flank was the critical victory that finally opened the way to Rome. Having spent an all-too-brief private visit to the Monastery, including St Benedict’s Cell – it would have been easy to have idled away a day there - we strapped on our walking shoes and made a left-flanking uphill assault on point 593, high above the Monastery and the Polish Cemetery. There, in the shadow of the war memorial, we lunched while Shaun gave a dramatic description of the Cassino battles: his insisting on standing on the side of a precipice, arms sweeping from horizon to horizon, mountains to left and right and valleys below, added a frisson of apprehension to what was a true tour de force, pun excused. For our freedom and yours We soldiers of Poland Gave Our soul to God Our life to the soil of Italy Our hearts to Poland The formal proceedings at the CWGC War Cemetery that followed introduced a suitable degree of seriousness which brought us up sharp: beautifully manicured as is always the case, this final resting place for 4,271 Commonwealth servicemen lies on the southern edge of the town below a Monastery that to many became a symbol of fear and hatred rather than pious respect. Wreaths were laid at the five Wykehamist graves, including that of Lt Colonel John Loveday (H, 24-29), where his nephews Peter (H, 50-55) and Mark (H, 57-62) and daughter Tessa paid their respects. The Headmaster then read out the Monty Rendall inscription in War Cloister. As ever, there are memories of this Patrons’ trip that were not necessarily part of the intended script. A number of companions insisted on crawling into sulphorous caves in the Campo Flegri, which left them smelling of bad eggs for the rest of the day. We always knew that Italian coach-drivers and traffic would prove to be a challenge, and so they were, although Maurizio our local guide preserved his sense of humour through thick and thin. The vast quantity of food, particularly shell fish, on occasions defeated nearly all but this author. However, if you are ever stuck at Fiumicino by an Alitalia strike (as was nearly the case for some of us who were planning to move on to Sicily) I can thoroughly recommend the Ristorante Il Tino five minutes away. British Airways, not to be outdone by their Italian cousins, announced that their computer had blown up and none of their London- bound planes were moving anywhere. By a miracle, and helped by the waving of an impressive number of platinum frequent-flier cards, we were all loaded aboard what seemed to be the only plane flying in Italy that Sunday afternoon. This account does not really start to give sufficient praise to David and Shaun, who over many seasons have led Patrons almost to the ends of the earth: I know all who have taken part are most grateful for their historical expertise, pedagogic skills, smooth administration and charm. David’s mantle now falls onto my unworthy shoulders. Enough of hot Mediterranean climes: next year it’s the Hebrides and bon voyage! Shaun Hullis above Cassino Monastery 11