| Original caption: “Americans of Japanese descent, Infantrymen of the 442nd Regiment, run for cover as a German artillery shell is about to land outside the building. Italy.” Essentially, for the 6 weeks that remained in World War II, the 442nd would be moving in a northwesterly direction through steep and rugged terrain on a line parallel to the coast and about 10 miles inland. Most of their engagements for the rest of the war would be fought in or near small- to medium-sized hill towns along this corri-dor. Other units, especially the 473rd Infantry Regiment of the 92nd Infantry Division, would be tasked with pushing north along the coastal road on the 442nd’s left flank. As the 442nd moved forward initially, it did so with its 2nd Battalion in the center, the 3rd Battalion on the right flank, and the 100th Battalion on the left, adjacent to the 473rd Infantry Regiment. The 442nd’s initial objective would be on a steep line of hills in the Apuan Alps, known in Italian as Alpi Apuane. This spur of the Apennines overlooks the coastal cities of Massa and Carrara, which are located about 40 miles and 44 miles, respectively, north of Pisa. Because the coastal roads pass through Massa and its environs, these towns were literally the gateway to La Spezia and northern Italy for IV Corps’s offensive. Having Massa in American hands would ensure the smooth movement of Allied forces along the coast, and control of the mountain roads radiating from Carrara was a prerequisite for controlling the coastal roads. Situated slightly more inland than Massa, Carrara is a city that has been famed for centuries because its marble quarries fueled Italian art and architecture from Roman times to the Renaissance and beyond. As they moved into the mountains around Carrara, the Americans quickly discerned the downside of operating in this area. When they attempted to dig foxholes most places, they discovered that a foot or so below the surface soil, the ground was solid marble! The line of hills near Carrara that the 442nd would have to capture included, from west to east, Monte Cerreto, Monte Folgorito, Monte Carchio, Monte Belvedere, and Monte Altissimo. However, to call these “hills” is to belie their true nature. They were steep, most with 60-degree slopes, and they were tall. Many topped 3,000 feet, rising from valley floors that were not far above sea level. There were also a series of smaller hills, which the Americans code-named Georgia, Florida, and Ohio 1, 2, and 3. Belvedere was considered to be especially important because it was the key observation and artillery spotting point covering the roads leading into and through Carrara and Massa. Assaulting the enemy positions in these hills presented an immense challenge, but Colonel R. Miller (November 11, 1900 – August 5, 1968) Executive Officer of the 442nd Regimental Combat Team, along with Lieutenant Colonel James E. “Jack” Conley (December 18, 1908 – January 14, 1977), 100th Battalion Commander as of March 12, 1945, and Lieutenant Colonel Alfred Pursall (September 28, 1905 – January 24, 1979), 3rd Battalion Commander, developed what they decided was the only plan that had a ghost of a chance of working—a surprise attack at night. To assault the Gothic Line in such steep terrain without the element of surprise would have been suicidal; therefore, they would have to go at night. In this terrain, the difficulties of operating at night are obvious, but the officers were sure that the Nisei GIs were up to the challenge. The idea was to begin with a 2-battalion pincer movement. Then the 2nd Infantry Battalion would assault Monte Belvedere when the initial objectives had been secured by the other battalions. Beginning on the evening of Tuesday, April 3, the troops were on the move. They had been trucked to the village of Pietrasanta, in the hills about 8 miles southeast of Massa, which was far as the deuce-and-a-half trucks could travel without alerting the Germans to the sound of the troop movement. From here, the men shouldered their packs to continue the march on foot. Lugging heavy cases of ammunition on top of their other equipment, the Nisei men moved quietly into the foothills, guided by Italian resistance operatives who knew the lay of the land. That night, the 3rd Infantry Battalion took up a position to the southeast of Monte Folgorito, while the 100th Infantry Battalion circled to the west of 4,300 foot (1,300 meters) Monte Cerreto. The 3rd Battalion passed southeast of Monte Folgorito, reaching the village of Azzano by morning. Early on Wednesday, the 100th Infantry Battalion relieved the American troops that had been holding ground southwest of Folgorito, and the Nisei GIs concealed themselves from the German observers high up on the slopes. They rested through the day, and after dark, they moved out again, rounding the flank of Monte Cerreto and moving toward the hilltop village of Seravezza Stealthily, I A Companynd L Company of the 3rd Infantry Battalion, together with the Company M machine gunners, made their way up the steep pass east of Seravezza that separated Monte Folgorito and Monte Carchio. By dawn on Thursday, they had reached the top of the ridge line and had outflanked the German defensive positions. The enemy was now between the positions occupied by the 2 Nisei battalions. As the GIs made their way up Monte Folgorito, L Company’s 3rd Platoon was in the lead. Private 1st Class Shigeru T. “Shig” Kizuka (August 8, 1923 – July 17, 2008), a Nisei GI from Watsonville, California, who had told his parents that he was drafted – rather than that he volunteered – into the 442nd, recalled that “it was so dark, we were hanging on to each other so that we wouldn’t get separated. We were told that if anyone falls or gets lost, we should just keep moving. We taped our dogtags together so that they wouldn’t rattle and make noise.” The 3rd Platoon finally reached their objective at 1st light after 8 hours of stumbling through the darkness. “Shig” Kizuka was in the lead with 2 other men. “I saw a bunker on the left,” he recalled. “And I said to myself, ‘This is it.’” The Germans had not expected Americans to be able to scale the steep, overgrown slopes of Monte Folgorito in the darkness, so they were taken by surprise. “If they’d been awake, that would have been a different story,” Kizuka chuckled. In 32 minutes, L Company had done what the 5th Army had failed to do in 5 months, they had punched an irreparable hole in the Gothic Line. At 0500 Hours on April 5, the 3rd Battalion companies attacked westward toward the base of Monte Folgorito, but the Germans managed to launch a counterattack. The Nisei GIs rallied, with L Company defeating the German assault as I Company pushed the enemy back toward Monte Carchio. Throughout the day, the Nisei GIs continued to battle their way up Monte Folgorito and the adjacent hills. Private 1st Class Hiroshi “Hiro” Asai (December 24, 1923 – July 26, 2012) was with the 2nd Platoon of E Company during the assault on Folgorito. “It would have been a difficult climb under any circumstances, but the German mortar fire made it that much worse.” As the day wore on, the weather grew hotter and the GIs were thirsty. Lack of water became an important issue for the men. “You come to realize how important water is when you’re without it for three or four days,” Asai said. “We’d come to a water hole and try to take a drink. “We’d drink through a handkerchief in case it was contaminated. You’d get just a gulp before the next guy was on top of you to get his.” “It was very hot and I was very thirsty,” Staff Sergeant Gary Kazuo Sekiguchi (January 1, 1923 – January 23, 1990), of Waialua, Oahu, with L Company that night, recalled with a laugh. “There was a stream, so I drank a lot of water. I walked up the stream and holy smokes, there’s a big dead ox. I walked further upstream, and there’s a dead German! I drank that water, but somehow I never got sick.” Asai recalls how they spotted a spring near the trail and how the platoon took turns filling their canteens. Asai filled his canteen without difficulty, but the next man wasn’t so lucky. “A mortar shell hit the spring, and wounded the guy,” Asai said. “Two of us had to take him back down the mountain on a stretcher. It was so steep that we wound up having to slide on our butts most of the way. Finally, we were relieved by some stretcher bearers who took him to an aid sta-tion. Then we had to work our way back up the mountain. E Company was moving so fast by then that it took two days to catch up again.” By now the GIs were moving too quickly, and pushing so deep into German territory that they ran the risk of becoming overex-tended. “Our patrol was moving from hill to hill, when all hell broke loose,” Hiro Asai explained. “They were shooting at us from the side, and there was no place to take shelter. Half of us got wounded with shrapnel.” Meanwhile, on the left flank, the 100th Infantry Battalion, spearheaded by A Company, attacked the Germans along the ridge line which ran southwest from Monte Folgorito toward the coast. Here the GIs found themselves facing mine fields in addition to the interlocking fields of fire from the entrenched German machine gunners up on the slopes of the ridge. Pinned down, the A Company men began taking heavy casualties. When his squad leader was hit and severely wounded, Private 1st Class Sadao Munemori (August 17, 1922 – April 5, 1945) rose to the occasion. He took command of the squad and led them through the German mine field to a point just 30 yards from 1 of the machine-gun positions. Many of those around him were new men, replacements who had never tasted combat before, but Munemori was a veteran. He had arrived in Italy nearly a year earlier and had joined the 100th Infantry Battalion as a replacement during the fighting at Anzio. He had seen action in Italy, then France, and now he was back in the sights of the German machine gunners on a lonely hill in the Apennines. It was a long way from Los Angeles, California, where Sadao Munemori was born 22 years earlier, and where his Japanese immigrant parents had raised their 3 sons and 2 daughters. They had grown up against the backdrop of old country lore, and an age-old culture from across the Pacific, but they had grown up American, more Californian than Japanese. When he was 18, Munemori’s father passed away, and as would have been the case whether or not he was the eldest son of a Japanese immigrant, or of a 5th-generation European American, Munemori had to take on the role of head of the family. He was working as an auto mechanic in December 1941 when the United States suddenly found itself at war. As with other young men his age, Munemori felt that it was his country that had been attacked at Pearl Harbor, and he tried to enlist in the Armed Forces. However, unlike the other young men his age, the recruiter looked at him and saw the face of the nation that had attacked at Pearl Harbor. In February 1942, not long after Munemori had been rejected by the recruiter and classified 4-C as an enemy alien, Executive Order 9066 went into effect, and the Munemori family found themselves abruptly uprooted. As with thousands of Southern California Japanese Americans, they were ordered to surrender for internment. After a 5-hour bus ride, they arrived at the Manzanar relocation camp in the high desert country of California’s desolate Owens Valley. Within a few months, things had begun to turn. The patriotic young man who had tried to enlist now found himself recruited by the Military Intelligence Service. However, he yearned to be part of the real action, and he applied for a transfer to the infantry. After training at Camp Shelby, Mississippi, he headed overseas with an assignment to the 100th Infantry Battalion. It was Thursday, April 5, 1945, and there he was on an Italian hillside with machine gun rounds whistling all around his head, and fellow Nisei soldiers – many of them with families still at Manzanar or the other camps – lying wounded and bleeding in the dirt. Everyone was frightened. He could see it in their eyes. Munemori knew that he had to act. He had a couple of hand grenades, and he gathered up a few more from the men around him. Armed with half a dozen, he left his position and crawled forward, toward the 2 machine gun nests that were sweeping the hillside with their deadly fusillades. He managed to reach a point about halfway to the enemy. He stood, tossed a grenade, and ducked down. He tossed another, and another. The 1st machine gun nest exploded in a dirty orange fireball, but gunfire from the other poured down on Munemori. He lobbed another grenade, and then another. With the 6th grenade, the 2nd machine gun nest erupted with an ugly explosion, then fell silent. For a moment, this slope of ridgeline was quiet. Other German gunners from farther away took up the slack, but Munemori managed to reach the relative safety of a shell crater where 2 fellow A Company Nisei GIs had taken refuge. Just as he hunkered down, he felt something hit his helmet and bounce into the crater between the 2 other soldiers. A German hand grenade! Munemori reacted instinctively. It was too far away for him to reach down, grab it, and throw it away, so he made the only other choice. He jumped onto the grenade, covering it with his body. The explosion literally blew him apart, but his body absorbed enough of the blast that he was the only casualty. The other 2 men survived. Within an hour, the 100th Infantry Battalion had taken the top of the ridge west of Monte Folgorito, and the surviving defenders had surrendered. It was because of what had happened here that Sadao Munemori became the 1st son of Japanese immigrants to be written up for the Medal of Honor. Back in California’s Owens Valley, Sadao Munemori’s family would remain incarcerated at Manzanar until September 21, 1945, 3 weeks after the surrender of the Japanese Empire, but they were living in San Pedro, California by the time his posthumous Medal of Honor was awarded in March 1946. As the 100th Infantry Battalion moved forward, the 3rd Battalion was ensconced on the peak of Monte Folgorito, but they were taking a beating. They faced not only machine gun fire, but heavy artillery fire from the large coastal fortifications at nearby La Spezia, and from mortar positions in the adjacent hills. By the end of Thursday, supported by artillery and a well-placed air strike, the 3rd Battalion had taken and held their objective against vicious German resistance. It had cost them 17 men killed in action and 83 wounded. By this same time, elements of all 3 Nisei battalions had linked upon Monte Cerreto. Photographer Technician 4th Class Melvin Levine (January 11, 1918 – June 19, 1983) enlisted in the United States Army on April 29, 1942. As a photographer, he was detailed to 3131st Signal Service Company, which was folded into the 196th Signal Photo Company on February 24, 1945, in Trespiano, Italy. Levine was discharged on September 4, 1945. | |
| Image Filename | wwii0635.jpg |
| Image Size | 805.73 KB |
| Image Dimensions | 2892 x 2379 |
| Photographer | Melvin Levine |
| Photographer Title | United States Army Signal Corps |
| Caption Author | Written or Adapted by Jason McDonald |
| Date Photographed | April 4, 1945 |
| Location | |
| City | Seravezza |
| State or Province | Tuscany |
| Country | Italy |
| Archive | National Archives and Records Administration |
| Record Number | NWDNS-111-SC-337154 |
| Status | Caption ©2026 MFA Productions LLC Please Do Not Duplicate or Distribute Without Permission; Image in the Public Domain |
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