the editorial team
Recently, a significant discovery was made on the Battlefield of Passo del Giogo: the identification tag of a private, Patrick E. Carneal. Born in Richmond on April 12, 1917, Carneal lost his life in Italy on September 18, 1944, at the age of 27, fighting against the German Gothic Line. He was one of the brave soldiers who gave their lives during the last day of battle on that front.
The discovery occurred on July 11, 2024, during the restoration work on some German positions on the heights of Monticelli, the site of intense battles at Passo del Giogo. The dog tag was likely found in the same foxhole where Patrick Carneal was fatally struck by a mortar. It still bears the marks of the explosion, a stark reminder of the fierce battles where so many young Americans sacrificed their lives fighting against the German troops and RSI volunteers along the Gothic Line.
Patrick Carneal's sacrifice will not be forgotten.
The story of Patrick E. Carneal was also narrated by journalist Fabrizio Morviducci of LA NAZIONE a newspaper of Florence. Here is the full article published on Friday, July 19, 2024. This is how Fabrizio Morviducci introduces his article: MEMORY. Walking through the woods, we often feel a sense of peace. But if you look closely, those woods still echo with the sounds of battle. They tell stories of the last war, like that of soldier Carneal, whose memory has been brought back to life thanks to the volunteers of Gotica Toscana. My article was published in La Nazione and shared by the U.S. Consulate General in Florence.
A Sign of Fate: The American Dog Tag.
Patrick E. Carneal died on the last day of the Battle of Giogo at just 27 years old. Who knows how many comrades he saw die, scream for help, or call for their mothers as he held the position on that ridge with his fellow soldiers at a tremendous cost until September 18. After eighty years, Patrick rests at the Florence American Cemetery.
Soldier Patrick: Gotica Volunteers Find His Dog Tag
by Fabrizio Morviducci
"LA NAZIONE," Friday, July 19, 2024
The soldiers were crushed inside the holes, flattened to occupy as little space as possible, trying to shield their bodies from the shards of hot metal. The German mortar bombardment was intense, and the American soldiers of the 91st Division were caught in the middle of it. Fear, prayers, torn bodies. The horror of war seen firsthand by those in the midst of the battlefield with no escape. That September 18, 1944, the last day of the battle for the capture of Passo del Giogo, was a hellish day. In the midst of this hell was Private Patrick Carneal. He was hit directly by a mortar shell that landed in his foxhole. He died instantly, like many of his brothers in arms that day. It is from this tragic event, reminding us of the days of Liberation, that the story begins. By a twist of fate, it was meant to be told on the eightieth anniversary of those events. Patrick will not be forgotten. And not only in official celebrations but also for the sign he left us, a warning given the times. The rendezvous with history was in the woods where he fell. Today, among those trees, there is a sense of peace, but if you look closely, you can still hear the echoes of battle. It is an area where the small trenches dug by the soldiers to protect themselves from the bombardment are still visible. The volunteers of the Gotica Toscana Association had scheduled an excavation in the area about fifteen days ago to recover artifacts that they later display in their museum in Ponzalla. And from a foxhole, probably the one where Patrick Carneal tried to shelter until the fatal blow, his identification tag emerged. A unique relic, sacred to those who conduct these searches. On the metal, which bears the clear marks of the explosion, is his name. Patrick E. Carneal, who fell at 27 on the last day of the Battle of Giogo, now rests in the Florence American Cemetery. The volunteers went to pay their respects to him, a dazzling white marble cross in the green field where he is buried along with 4,392 other American soldiers who sacrificed their lives in World War II. After the discovery, his relatives were also traced; it is possible they may come to Tuscany to remember their lost family member. After all, at the Ponzalla Museum, in the municipality of Scarperia, it is not uncommon to meet grandchildren and children of those who fought in these parts, nor the last veterans who undertake a long and arduous journey to return once more to the places that marked their lives forever. The association has also recovered many of the Gothic Line bunkers at Passo del Giogo. They are the custodians of this piece of history, and it seems incredible that throughout Italy, museums that tell the story of World War II were born and are managed by similar volunteer associations. It is as if the public does not want to deal with a memory that is still not truly shared.
Patrick and the Battle of Monticelli for the Breakthrough of the Gothic Line
by Filippo Spadi
On September 18, 1944, Companies B, G, and E of the 363rd Regiment of the 91st Infantry Division were forced to merge under the command of Captain Conley, the only surviving officer among the three units. The losses sustained were devastating: 46 soldiers killed in action (KIA) and 190 wounded in action (WIA) in just a few days, on the exposed terrain of Monticelli. These numbers, in the context of the battlefield, represent a true hell.
The companies advanced slowly under fire from German 8 cm mortars, MG machine guns, and well-placed rifle fire on the ridges. Captain Conley, from Company G, now commanded just over 100 men, all that remained of the three companies. Company F of the 361st Regiment was also sent to support, but by then, hell had already opened its gates.
Who knows how many comrades Patrick E. Carneal saw die, scream for help, or call for their mothers as he held the position on that ridge with his fellow soldiers at an enormous cost until September 18, 1944. His company alone had 25 dead and 37 wounded. The foxholes, numerous and close together, were just a few dozen meters from the well-fortified German line. Every movement could be fatal, as could staying still. In those moments of terror, confusion, anxiety, smoke, and noise, a grenade, probably a mortar shell, struck him fatally, also tearing apart his identification tag. That dog tag waited 80 years to see the light again in that now peaceful forest.
Patrick E. Carneal lost his life on the last day of the Battle of Giogo, at just 27 years old, and now rests at the Florence American Cemetery. Alessio went to visit him, trying to understand why he was the one destined to retrieve that dog tag from the ground, without any historical scavenger having found it first to take it who knows where. We, at Gotica Toscana APS, are no one, perhaps just storytellers of a time that is no more. But we remember those who never returned home, where someone was waiting for them. We will treasure their example, forever.
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