The city had changed; in some ways for the better and in others for the worse. The lights had come on, water ran in the toilets, the opera and the movies were playing to packed houses, the streets were cleared of the wreckage of bombed buildings, stores were well stocked with everything but good 46 "vino", and the enlisted men's Red Cross Club was a structure of grandeur that topped anything from the United States to the UK.

Naples had assumed the cosmopolitan and multi-colored atmosphere of Casablanca, Algiers, and Cairo. The streets were iridescent with the uniforms of sailors and soldiers of half a dozen different nationalities. In a manner of speaking, Naples had become the property of the world. There were those who said with a nostalgic sigh, "I liked it better before", but then such statements are merely human and not necessarily to be taken seriously, for Naples, though it had changed, was still the mother of fun and Marie was still as friendly as ever, even though her ideas had changed, too.

However, all was not play. There was training, inspections, re-equipping, and it soon became evident that the rumors of, "We're going home", or "England is next", were doomed to go the way of all rumors; another mission was forthcoming-this time a parachute mission.

Sand tables were constructed, recognition crews sent out to nearby units, and finally came the briefing - on January 20, the 504 was ready to take off. The operation was called "Shingle" and involved a vertical envelopment of the enemy in a sector behind the coastal town of Anzio, 28 miles South of Rome. The S-2's estimate of the enemy's capabilities did not appear encouraging, to say nothing of the fact that in spite of all efforts to maintain secrecy of the impending operation, it seemed that every Italian Joe in Naples and vicinity had at least a vague idea of what was going on. Consequently, there was a certain amount of "sweating" on the part of the paratroopers, for most felt certain that the Germans, aware of the plans, would be waiting on the DZ with upturned bayonets - a situation, that to say the least, would have been embarrassing. However, subsequent events on the beachhead proved that their fears were unfounded, for that particular sector of the Italian coast was lightly defended and the jump would probably have gone off without a hitch.

Nevertheless, on the morning of January 20, orders were received from the Fifth Army to the effect that the 504 would not jump in the "Shingle" operation, but would go in on the beach assault in LCIs. Movement orders and boat loading lists were issued to all elements of the Combat Team and the following morning found the 504 loading on boats at the tiny fishing port of Pozzuoli, north of Naples.

That afternoon the regiment's small convoy of LCIs swung out from the port to become part of the huge northbound invasion fleet that stretched in both directions as far as the eye could see. The afternoon was quiet and as the sun submerged into the sea, men became impressed with the magnitude of the operation - an endless string of ships moving on their predesignated course like the hand of fate across the sea.

Dawn of the 22nd found the 504 standing out from the beach upon which they were to later debark. There was an LST sinking off the port bow of the lead 504 craft, but aside from this there seemed to be amazingly little evidence of the enemy that had been expected - everything seemed quiet; too quiet.

Reports had been received that five waves had been landed when through the loudspeaker of a neighboring boat, Col. Tucker was ordered to land the Combat Team on Red Beach. Immediately the 13 LCIs that contained the members of the regiment commenced to move toward the shore. There was no confusion; everything was proceeding with the regularity and order of clockwork. The lead boats were grinding into the sand. Already the ramps had slammed down into the water and men were splashing their way toward the shore. It was perfect. The operation couldn't have gone more smoothly. The only thing that was lacking to make this a perfect movie operation was the enemy.

At that precise moment the tense stillness was shattered by a whining roar that left no doubt in anyone's mind as to its source. Straight out of the sun the enemy planes came - their machine guns blasting. For a few brief seconds the world became one great kaleidoscope of raging sound, then the planes were gone and in the water where they had passed over lay several boiling circles where bombs had struck. One LCI, its nose disgorging men, settled in the shallow water. Its after-section was a mass of twisted metal and oily black smoke. Men could be seen hanging from the bits of twisted steel. That had been LCI number 20-G Company's craft.

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