By the evening of the 17 May 1944 it was clear to Field Marshal Kesselring that the Gustav Line had been irreparably breached. He ordered his troops to fall back to the “Hitler Line” at the far north end of the Liri Valley, where he hoped to replicate the tenacious defense of the Gustav Line.
Despite the terrible pounding they were receiving from the Poles on Pt 593, the Fallschirmjaeger initially refused to leave Monastery Hill, a position they had occupied and defended for five months, in conditions and battle that many veterans compared unfavorably to Stalingrad. They wanted to make the Poles storm the Monastery proper, which they were obviously going to do at dawn on the 18th. However, Gen Senger, their corps commander, would have none of it. He needed them on the Hitler Line.
About midnight on the night of 17/18 May 1944, the Green Devils of the German 1st Fallschirmjaeger Division reluctantly pulled off of Monastery Hill. Some escaped up the Liri Valley, but many were captured by the British or execueted by the Poles of the Kresowa Division.
Both the British and the Poles intercepted Senger’s heated radio transmissions to the Fallschirmjaeger telling them to abandon the monastery. Suspecting a trap, the Poles ordered the 12th Poldolski Lancers, a cavalry outfit that had left their horses and armored cars at the bottom of the mountain, to recce the monastery before they attacked. In the predawn hours of 18 May 1944, the troopers painstakingly infiltrated their way through the wire, minefields and tortured terrain, where they found the Monastery abandoned. Its only occupants were thirty seriously wounded German soldiers.
The lancers raised a make shift regimental pennant over the abbey followed closely behind by a Polish flag. At 10:15 am, the regimental bugler, Cpl. Emil Czech, sounded the Hejnał Mariacki from the Monastery to signal to the entire valley that it was in Polish hands. The Hejnał Mariacki, or Call of St. Mary, is played every day at dawn, noon, and dusk off the city walls of Krakow. It commemorates the sacrifice of a lone polish trumpeter in the 13th century who spotted a Mongol force trying to sneak into the town. From the bell tower of St Mary’s cathedral, he sounded the Hejnał Mariacki to warn the town of the approaching danger. The call cuts off abruptly because the trumpeter was shot in the throat with an arrow.
The trumpet echoed down the valleys and could be heard as far away as the Eighth Army Headquarters. The horrifying German and Soviet propaganda that the Poles were unwilling to fight the Germans in 1939 was finally laid to rest. That afternoon, the Poles made contact with the British advancing up the Liri Valley.
The Germans continued to fight on for Colle Sant’Angelo and Point 575 on the north wall of the Liri Valley for another two days, mostly because the Poles weren’t taking prisoners. But with the fall of the Abbey, their fate was sealed.
The Fourth, and final, Battle of Monte Cassino was over.