On December 21st following the amazing victories of the Japanese at Pearl Harbor and against the British in South East Asia, Mussolini summoned an emergency meeting of the Naval Planning Group that included most of the upper echelon admirals and key officers of “Supermarina,” the Italian navy’s high command. The admirals like Under Secretary of the Navy and de facto minister of Marine, Admiral Riccardo Mainardi were among the most traditional and conservative officers of Fascist Italy’s naval forces. They usually agreed among themselves to block innovation asking only for larger and more expensive battleships than Italy’s stressed finances could afford. Mussolini had deferred to their views until then but in light of the latest events of the war following the attack on Pearl Harbor he decided that traditionalism could also be counter productive and eagerly welcomed a fresh approach.
During a spectacular attack by divers from Calamai’s Gamma Group against the British navy at Alexandria in Egypt, two daredevil frogmen managed to penetrate the very heavy harbor defenses and sink two British capital ships the Queen Elizabeth and the Valiant. Mussolini knew that Calamai had actually planned that operation down to the last detail. Several other sinkings at Gibraltar, Malta, and in the Black Sea against the Soviet navy by a handful of exceptional frogmen dramatically proved his point. The dictator therefore demanded more and he wanted it quickly, requesting an increasingly daring attitude by the navy’s high command that persisted in dragging its feet.
He addressed the general officers in the vast meeting room of the Palazzo Venezia:
“We sank two of England’s greatest battleships at anchor at Alexandria: the Valiant and the Queen Elizabeth. This did not take place years ago gentlemen, but last week! How many men were required to carry out the mission? Two. How many bombs did they use? Two. Only two! Please take notice gentlemen: two men and two bombs can sink two major battleships with thousands of sailors on board! Some eighty thousand tons have been sent to the bottom in one single operation. There you have the overwhelming proof that a small determined group, a minority of a few fanatically motivated specialists can successfully defeat the world’s greatest naval power…This is a truly Fascist vision of war: to sow terror in the hearts and minds of the enemy. Think about it! We must learn from this colossal event and we must do so very quickly, the Fascist way! Thank you.”
Mussolini saluted and then added.
“Admiral Calamai and Count Ciano will please join me in my office.”
The two followed the dictator down the hall as the other admirals saluted with the sinking feeling of having suddenly been dumped by a capricious mistress. There was hatred and envy directed at Calamai who avoided looking at the older admirals as he followed the Count down the hall with his trademark limp. Mussolini settled at his desk and began taking notes with his blue pencil on large sheets of paper in his oversize handwriting. He was beaming:
“The Führer has sent me his personal congratulations on this great victory! He is full of high praise for the courage of our men. At last we have something to talk about. But the details must remain totally secret for obvious security reasons. All this would be useless without a major follow up. Calamai, I understand you have more news and new plans?”
“Yes Duce, I do.”
Mussolini noticed that Calamai was somewhat reticent in Ciano’s presence and added.
“Count Ciano is deeply involved in negotiating for additional supplies and military help from the Germans. He needs a level of comfort that your missions will continue and lead to more success. You may proceed in complete confidence.”
Calamai had little use for the Count who was sitting back in his armchair looking nervous. His face was constantly twitching in such predictable ways that it gave him a very unsteady appearance. He also played nervously with the buttons of his uniform to the point of almost twisting them off or else would suddenly scratch some remote part of his body, a thigh, an ankle…and so on. Calamai was very dubious and sensed there was something deeply flawed in the man. Ciano would have certainly failed the entry-level psychological test to become part of the Gamma Group.
The Admiral began his presentation of the secret plans that Mussolini did not want the older admirals to hear because he didn’t trust any of them and was doubtful of their commitment to a war they viewed as the exclusive undertaking of the Fascist regime. The Duce often waxed sarcastically,
“Those old sailors with their American wives…have no stomach for war with the United States.”
In his mind all the admirals were potential traitors, bourgeois upper class cynics who would rather sue for peace at any price than pursue the hard road to greatness of Fascist Italy’s new Empire. Mussolini increasingly considered himself and nurtured his image as a working class proletarian, a man who rose from the lowest circumstances to the top through sheer willpower and ruthless energy. He felt he instinctively understood what the masses wanted and could fulfill their dreams because he had successfully done so in the past. Those admirals sooner or later would be replaced with a new breed of Fascist naval officers imbued with Fascist ideology. But then, he asked himself, what about this Calamai? Where did he really stand? Didn’t he also come from that same upper class milieu and could he be trusted for his Fascist loyalties when the chips were down? Mussolini knew he couldn’t answer that question and his natural skepticism led him to think not. Calamai was a temporary exception, and certainly an officer loyal to the old regime and the military caste. He therefore had to make the most of him now that victory was at hand because if the fortunes of war turned…
Admiral Calamai concluded his presentation:
“We need one year to implement the design of the transatlantic transport submarine. It will have a built-in cradle to carry a two man midget craft smaller than the current CB, about ten meters long by two meters high. The new pocket sub will carry four 400-kilo short torpedoes with a range of 500 meters capable of penetrating armored plate. It will be operational in three months and will first be assigned to the Mediterranean and the Black Sea. The transatlantic transport submarine also requires one year of testing before we can launch an operation. In the meantime we are moving ahead with the existing Gamma Group offensive in America thanks to the long fuse detonator that allows for multiple underwater attacks within the same mission.”
Mussolini remained silent and nodded as he doodled on a pad with his blue pencil; Ciano was sitting back, amazed at the information he was hearing for the first time, intended to bolster his confidence in his dealings with the Nazi and Japanese allies.
Calamai continued:
“We have operatives in place under deep cover providing critical local support to the attacking submarine. I shall not go into the detail of those operations at this time…”
Ciano suddenly sat up agitated and nervous causing Mussolini to look at him with something the Admiral interpreted as undisguised contempt.
“So Admiral…” asked Ciano “you are saying that we currently have a team inside the United States?”
“Yes, Your Excellency.”
“Very impressive.”
“Naturally all this information must remain top secret.”
“We still have many political enemies in America, enemies of the Fascist regime…as you are well aware, Admiral. These are traitors that we must eliminate. Your men could possibly be helpful in such operations as well.”
Mussolini looked at Calamai who was suddenly horrified. Mixing networks and operations was a sure recipe for disaster and Operation Neptune had succeeded only because he had enforced the strictest compartmentalization. The problem was how to brush Ciano off without turning him into a lethal political enemy. In the rarefied world of dictatorial power only the top man could make the difference while the people in his entourage, and Ciano was one of those who saw the dictator almost daily, were quick to identify hostile attitudes and counter attack with consummate skill. In some instances a mere shrug of the shoulders could be interpreted as a declaration of war. Calamai had to proceed with extreme caution and forget his military stiffness.
“Your Excellency will no doubt appreciate” he said with a condescending smile, “the extreme sensitivity of this information. If repeated or even hinted at, it could irreparably compromise our men who have been in place since before the declaration of war. To divert them into a parallel operation, apart from being contrary to every rule of espionage, would compromise the integrity of our offensive effort. I’m afraid it would be impossible and I would have to strongly recommend against it.”
The quiet firmness in the Admiral’s voice alarmed Mussolini who knew how to wield authority, bend and manipulate even the strongest personalities. He suddenly understood that this was a very tough and determined man who firmly believed in his mission and in protecting his team far more than any sense of loyalty to Fascism and to the party leadership. Calamai was first and foremost a professional soldier. The long standing rumors that Galeazzo Ciano was the Duce’s heir apparent, being disseminated regularly by Ciano himself and his entourage, was something Mussolini both encouraged and resented. His method had always been to govern alone, and to surround himself with weak, slavish personalities. He would regularly dispose of the cleverest men by firing massive numbers of party and high government leaders, something he called the “changing of the guard.” These were bloodless purges but purges nevertheless minus the brutality of a Stalin or a Hitler.
Mussolini also knew that he had to slowly prepare the inevitable demise of his son in law whose naked ambition was interfering with the Duce’s authority. The Germans were insisting on Ciano’s removal and had shown Mussolini embarrassing evidence of the foreign minister’s disloyal attitude and his many disturbing weaknesses. Mussolini already knew most of those details but he feigned surprise and resentment when Adolf Hitler himself handed him a thick confidential file. It contained everything from drug abuse to orgies with photographs taken in Berlin; assorted dishonest business deals; graft and corruption of all kinds. The file was such a poisonous hatchet job put together by the SS officer at the German embassy in Rome that Mussolini refused to believe most of it. He thought that Galeazzo was no better than his father the navy hero of the First World War who from humble beginnings and a spectacular career managed to amass an immense fortune through the Fascist party. The numbers shown to Mussolini when the older Ciano died in 1939 came as a surprise: almost one billion lire, a rather hefty estate for an impoverished naval officer.
“Galeazzo” Mussolini said roughly, “the Admiral takes precedence; his operations are the spearhead of our war effort. He is the captain of the boat right now. No mixing of operations and no interference. Understood?”
Ciano nodded sinking back into his armchair, nervous and restless after such a drubbing in the presence of a key naval commander who would probably repeat what he had heard to his friends turning it into yet another wild rumor. It was one of Mussolini’s favorite ways of cutting someone down to size. The Admiral broke the uneasy silence as Ciano stared at the ceiling.
“Duce we expect that our operations in America will be effective in one or two months, by February at the latest.”
Mussolini smiled and gave Ciano a knowing glance.
“Admiral, this is truly excellent news. Come to me directly should you need any support.”
“Thank you Duce.”
They all saluted as the Admiral left while Ciano remained for further talks with the dictator.