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Numerous have been the cavalry charges recorded in history. Their last spurt of fame came with the Napoleonic Wars under impetuous leaders leading massed charges—Murat, Lasalle, Uxbridge, and others. Breech loading rifles and the advent of repeating rifles put pay to most of that equestrian glory during the third quarter of the nineteenth century and certainly extinguished it by its end.

In a now ancient wargamers’ magazine, an article outlines the requirements for a proper cavalry charge: “The deployment of the regiment as a whole, the use of the squadrons and of swords…” (Lieutenant-Colonel V. Gibellini, Tradition No.46; p.3)—although, to ‘swords’ Gibellini might have added lances. Nevertheless, it is clear that a true cavalry charge is one made by a body of cavalry of at least squadron strength wielding sabre or lance against a regular opponent. Mounted infantry does not count, (e.g. the Australian Light Horse in WWI Palestine ), as it is armed and trained to fight on foot—no matter what the riding skills of its individual members—using horses for rapid transport into battle. Charging demonstrators or revolutionaries in city streets, (like the Russian Imperial Guard Cossacks did, in 1917, at St. Petersburg, and the Bobby-uniformed mounted police, in 1947-50 at Trieste) do not count either.

The last recorded sabre-charge by the Italian army was that of the Italian ‘Cavalleggeri di Alessandria’ (14th Lighthorse) Regiment, at D. Karasi on the River Korana in Croatia, on 17 October 1942. In this engagement, the Italian unit was surrounded and in order to break out of the encirclement made a mounted charge against the enemy. It might not count as a candidate for the last charge because its opponents were not regular soldiers in formed units but irregulars or partisans.

The last cavalry charge, then, was that of the 3rd ‘Savoia Cavalleria’ Regiment on the Russian Front, on 24 August 1942. It occurred at a place between the Ukrainian villages of Tschebotarewskij and Isbuschenskij. In Italian history books, the battle is named after the latter. The tale, however, began earlier.

1400 hours, 22 June 1941. Contrary to his better judgement, Mussolini commits Italy to war against the USSR. Early that morning, his wife, Rachele, wakes Benito with his coffee and the news that Germany has attacked the Soviet Union. Propping himself up on his pillows, he stares at her dumbfounded. Gaining his composure, il Duce exclaims:

‘My dear Rachele, this means we have lost the war!’

Later, Mussolini insists—he has to insist: initially, Hitler and the Wehrmacht are against it—that Germany accept an Italian expeditionary force to the USSR on the grounds that the blitzkrieg against the Soviet Union must succeed, otherwise the war cannot be won. More than eighty thousand soldiers are committed to the Corpo di Spedizione Italiano in Russia (Italian Expeditionary Corps in Russia: CSIR) that later is to become the 200,000-strong Italian Eighth Army. Reading between the lines, Mussolini’s health begins to deteriorate from this point. This is where his ambivalence (psychologically denoting an internal conflict) starts. A month later, subsequent to an abortive trip to North Africa intended for him to lead Rommel’s victory parade through Cairo, the Duce stops public appearances altogether.

Mid–July 1941. While in its billet at Sanskj Most in Bosnia, the 3rd ‘Savoia Cavalleria’ Regiment receives its marching orders for the Russian front. The Regiment has a long and distinguished history reaching back to … The motto on its regimental standard is … and the complement still wear a red scarf. The Regiment forms a brigade with the 5th ‘Lancieri di Novara’ Regiment in the Celere (Rapid) Division. The Celere includes the 3rd Bersaglieri Regiment (3 battalions), the Black Shirts of the CCNN ‘Tagliamento’ Legion (2 battalions) and the 3rd Articelere (rapid artillery) Regiment. The other two divisions of the CSIR are the infantry divisions ‘Pasubio’ and ‘Torino’ which are euphemistically designated ‘motor-transportable’. This causes consternation among the German Army High Command whose language officers translate the term as ‘motorised’. They are no less disappointed then the Italian infantry to discover that motor-transport, in fact, is almost non-existent in these two infantry formations.

August 1942. Under heavy pressure around Stalingrad, the Soviets mount diversionary attacks on the Italian sector of the front to draw away German units to its assistance. By now, the Italians have grown into the 8th Army. The Italian ‘Sforzesca’ Division in the crook of the Don River collapses under persistent Soviet pressure. The cavalry regiments and the Blackshirts of the CCNN are the final reserve. The two regiments of cavalry and the attached 1° Gruppo (three batteries: 12 guns) of horse-artillery form a brigade under newly–promoted Brigadier-General Barbó, former Colonel of the Savoia Cavalleria Regiment, as the Raggruppamento Autonomo Cavalleria—meaning literally: ‘Independent Cavalry Grouping’—(RAC). They are on two separate scouting missions that take them through the enemy lines and back. The Savoia numbers about 700 mounted men in four line squadrons, one machine-gun squadron, one headquarters squadron, two mortar sections and an attached company of anti-tank guns. Unlike many Italian line units, the cavalry—and especially the Savoia with its traditions of the royal house of Savoy—is composed of highly motivated monarchists. This both serves them well and also results in higher casualties.

Evening, 23 August 1942. The Siberian 812th Infantry Regiment, consisting of at least two and possibly three battalions, (strength estimates vary: circa 2,000 men and women), arrives in the vicinity of Savoia Cavalleria and positions itself for an attack the next morning. Their lines extend for a kilometre over undulating ground falling away to the River Don and approach to about 800 metres of the Italian cavalry encampment.

Dawn, 24 August 1942. With the morning sun behind them, a mounted patrol led by Sergeant Comolli traverses a field of sunflowers. They are on alert. Corporal Legnani is in the lead. Startled, he is the first to see the olive-green helmet centred by a red star protruding from among the yellow sunflowers. The Italians have stumbled upon Soviet infantry during the process of a stealthy preparation for an attack! Corporal Legnani is armed with a sub-machine pistol and is mounted on a horse described as ‘an unpredictable mare of shadowy personality’. Legnani holds her in check with both hands. He figures that a burst from his weapon would cause her to buck and send him flying. So, he shouts to his sidekick, Trooper Petroso: ‘Shoot, Petroso, shoot!’ Petroso like a good Sicilian 'cacciatore' carries his carbine in the crook of his left arm. He is mounted on Olwo, the calmest horse in the Regiment. The carbine barks and the Soviet soldier is hit below the star. It is a signal for all hell to break loose. As the whole patrol does a smart about-face and doubles back to the regimental encampment 'ventro a terra' (‘lickety split’—literally ‘belly to the ground’), bullets buzz about them. They reach the Regiment with the loss of only one horse, Trabocco. Its rider, Trooper Galbusera, does a somersault over the collapsing animal and sprints the remaining distance to the regimental lines at Olympic Games’ speed. There are also three lightly wounded.

Hearing the gunfire in close proximity, ‘Savoia Cavalleria’s Colonel, Count Alessandro Bettoni Cazzago, orders the Machine-Gun Squadron and 4th Squadron to form a contiguous line with the anti-tank gun company facing in the direction of the fire. As the automatic weapons begin to return the enemy’s fire, Colonel Bettoni alerts his superior, Brigadier-General Barbó, at RAC HQ by radio. Already, the Regiment’s Vice-Commandant, Lieutenant-Colonel Cacciandra, has been hit in the legs and is lying supine on the dirt floor of the tent, attended to by the MO, Lieutenant Piemonte. Next to him, the radio-operator falls wounded in the abdomen. The proximity of the Soviet infantry and the intensity of their fire make a withdrawal in the face of the enemy hazardous. Colonel Bettoni shouts into the radio-telephone above the cacophony of flying metal:

‘The Russians are too near, General. I cannot withdraw the Regiment without it being caught in the open and cut to pieces. I’m going to stand and fight. The ground we’re on allows for some manoeuvre.’

Brigadier-General Barbó approves Bettoni’s intention and promises to find what reinforcements he can. Bettoni gives his orders. Major Albini and Captain Solaroli di Briona gallop off to galvanise their horse-artillery batteries into action. The scouts have revealed that the Soviets are positioned in two parallel battalion-strength lines facing the Italians and one in enfilade on the Regiment’s right. Both the Soviet flanks are in the air but their left is especially exposed. The Italian encampment has a back door leading by a semicircular route into a gully which opens onto the Soviet’s left flank. By exiting the encampment in a wide arc through the rear, a mounted force can take advantage of the natural gully that obscures them from the enemy until they’re upon him. It is the only way that cavalry can approach the enemy in the era of the automatic weapon. Colonel Bettoni orders Captain De Leone’s 2nd Squadron to sabre charge the Soviet’s enfilading left flank with the intention of rolling it up and thereby reducing the danger of being outflanked.

De Leone is new at his job as squadron leader. He feels honoured to lead the Regiment’s charge. He orders his squadron to mount, calling out above the din: ‘Squadron to horse! Mount!’ Then: ‘Forward. Trot!’ De Leone leads his 100 light-horsemen out of the camp, an undulating wake of bouncing grey-green on brown. They soon disappear into the green and ochre gully that conceals their approach.

At Regimental HQ, the recently promoted Major Manusardi is beating a rhythm of frustration on his boots with his whip. It was his former squadron that has just left with De Leone in command. He has no command now. Feeling his isolation, he watches as the sections and platoons go into action doubled over their horses’ manes dodging the rain of bullets and shrapnel, officers and senior NCOs leading, indicating the course of action with coded gesticulations. They seem to him busy, steady and paradoxically safe, cradled within the circle of their comrades-in-arms. He, on the other hand, feels vulnerable, unemployed, with no orders and no orders to give, contemplating what action to take.

The coursing adrenaline cements his resolution to a path of action. Soon, Manusardi fears, De Leone will give the command: ‘Sabres-in-hand!’ preceding the charge. And he will be here, in the middle of this ordered chaos and possibly get killed or wounded without any meaning, not fighting, just a guilty bystander. Why should I die like this? he thinks. I should be there with the squadron at the charge! Unfortunately, he has no mount: both his horses have already been killed under him in previous battles. There is only the Brigadier-General’s mount left in the lines, a magnificent stallion named Bergolo. It is held by its groom, Sergeant Casanova. Manusardi decides that his only proper course of action is to appropriate Bergolo and join the charge. Striding towards the charger, he calls out to Sergeant Casanova: ‘Maresciallo, give me that horse!’ A sergeant cannot argue with a major whatever his orders, not now, not in the heat of battle. Obediently, Casanova hands Manusardi the bridle. Without further ado, Manusardi is in the saddle, adjusts the stirrups and armed only with his whip (shades of Napoleonic Marshal Murat) and still wearing his bustina , he touches Bergolo in the flanks with his spurs and springs out of the encampment after his old squadron. Mounted, he feels his confidence returning. Bergolo’s powerful strides easily eat up the distance to the squadron. The trotting troopers overtaken, Manusardi arrives abreast of De Leone surprising him with the words: ‘I’m joining you as an ordinary soldier.’ De Leone regains his composure, then, swapping his sabre to his left bridle hand, he offers Manusardi his right and they shake hands heartily. Lifting himself up in his saddle and, turning so that the others following can see, he calls out: ‘Our old chief is with us!’ The cavalry veterans are cheered.

Shortly after, the 2nd Squadron debauches from the defile flanking the Soviets. The Captain calls for ‘Gallop!’ then almost immediately: ‘Charge!’ Replying, one hundred throats hoarsely cry in chorus: ‘Savoia!’ The shout surprises the Soviet soldiers, rises up beyond the fracas and is carried back to the Regimental lines. The Italian horsemen break onto the startled Siberians like a tsunami onto a Pacific atoll, overrunning and overturning everything and everyone in their path. Horses and men seem free of fatigue and energized by the action. The sabres rise and fall rhythmically splitting helmets, slashing shoulders and slicing limbs. To the right and to the left they strike swiftly, tirelessly, demoniacally. Many of the cavalrymen are armed with the Cossack M-1935 shaska, a heavy guardless sabre, resistant to icy weather, that inflicts terrible wounds and cleaves through helmets all the way down to chins. The Soviets have no time to face this unexpected threat and their small arms fire is less than effectual.

Rising dust and sods and moss kicked up everywhere partly obscure them from Soviet sight further down the front, until they are upon them, too, doing their deadly work. Notwithstanding, the casualties are many among the valiant horsemen and obedient horses. De Leone has his mount shot from under him and there is no other available in that pandemonium. Pistol in hand, he stands his ground determined to die and not surrender. Major Manusardi takes control of the squadron as it passes half way through the Russian front, having passed fully through the enfilading battalion. Wielding his whip, he rallies the fifty mounted survivors for a second charge back to the spot where De Leone and some dismounted men fight a last stand against surrounding Siberians. Corporal Lolli, unable to draw his regulation sabre frozen in its scabbard by the paralysing cold of the night, brandishes a stick-grenade. By the time the remnants of the 2nd Squadron arrive, De Leone has been fatally hit and lies amidst a circle of fallen comrades.

The chaos among the Soviets is evidently huge. The havoc that the charge of the 2nd Squadron causes propels them back in disorder while under fire from Italian small arms, automatic weapons and light artillery facing them. Their front and left flank collapsed, they retire onto their rear elements. Having more or less regrouped on the rearward second line, they are ready to receive the next wave of attacking Italians.

Back at Regimental HQ, Colonel Bettoni has ordered Captain Abba and the 4th Squadron to relieve the pressure on the 2nd by advancing dismounted in a frontal attack on the Russian position, covered by the Machine-Guns Squadron and the Anti-Tank Company. In behaviour as nonchalant as that of Manusardi charging armed only with his whip, Abba takes his portable Kodak camera to shoot some still photos of the prelude to the action. Meanwhile, Manusardi and his remaining men fight their way through the Siberians. Withdrawing toward their lines on foot leading their surviving horses, they pass by Captain Abba and his men. ‘Bravo, Abba, I’ll send you reinforcements!’ Manusardi calls out. Protected by the 4th Squadron’s advancing skirmish line they arrive tired bloody and grubby at Regimental HQ. Manusardi is covered in the blood of the General’s horse, Bergolo, a casualty on the field. He strides into HQ, salutes and reports. Manusardi respectfully suggests to Bettoni to commit another mounted squadron to the fray. ‘The Russians are on the edge of breaking, Signor’ Colonello,’ the Major declares. ‘They need but a nudge to go over the edge.’ Bettoni still has two squadrons in hand uncommitted. He orders Captain Marchio to move off with his 3rd Squadron in an attack on the Soviet’s left flank, where the 2nd Squadron did the most damage in their surprise eruption from cover.

The excitement in those about to charge is electric. Sergeant-Major Fantini, mounted on Albino is lightly rebuked for not wearing his helmet: ‘Are you so unconcerned for your safety, Fantini?’ says Captain Marchio. ‘Put on your helmet and remember that you have an elderly mother at home who waits for you.’ The helmet does not save his mother from grief. Fantini falls in the charge fatally hit.

Major Don Alberto Litta Modignani, the 2nd Group of Squadrons commander, seeing that both his squadrons have been committed to battle, sends a subaltern with a message to the Colonel saying that he intends to join the charge of his remaining squadron with his staff. Impatient for action as was Manusardi, Major Litta decides to include himself and his ten staff in the charge without waiting for word to come back from Regimental HQ.

The charge of Captain Marchio’s Squadron succeeds. In a repetition of the enfilading charge of the 2nd, the 3rd Squadron rides down all opposition from one end of the Soviet line to the other. Finally, Marchio and Litta lead a final charge on the Siberian Regimental HQ. All the officers of the Squadron are either killed or wounded. Major Litta, too, falls wounded, his horse dying under him, then tries to direct the fire of a light machine gun and is mortally hit. Led by Sergeant Negri, the squadron extinguishes the last enemy resistance; the remaining Russians are either captured or put to flight.

Back at ‘Savoia’s HQ, Colonel Bettoni waits anxiously mounted on the front seat of his Balilla staff car, leaning on the Regimental standard. Standing up to take a better look he watches the returning survivors of the battle, over by 9.30am. The survivors return from the ‘valley of the shadow of death’, as the Light Brigade did from Balaclava. Bettoni euphorically embraces his troopers exclaiming: ‘Savoia has charged!’ Getting in reply the equally euphoric echo: ‘Si, Savoia hà caricato.’

Some Wehrmacht ex–cavalry officers from a Aufklärungs Abteilung , having observed the battle from heights nearby, visit the encampment and express their enormous admiration for the Italian cavalrymen. They approach Colonel Bettoni, salute and click their heels in unison saying: “Herr Oberst, these things we no longer know how to do.” It is not an exaggeration to say that these Italian troopers have written a glorious chapter in the annals of military history and especially in the history of the cavalry arm. It is the week of the Regiment’s 250th anniversary.

At Isbuschenskij, the ‘Savoia Cavalleria’ fought against three times their number and won. Losses among the Italians were 32 dead (3 officers) and 52 wounded (5 officers)—and over 100 horses. The Soviets’ three Siberian battalions left 150 dead, 300 wounded and 500 prisoners (including an entire battalion HQ) on the field, as well as 50 machine-guns, 10 mortars and four small cannon.

The last charge had all the characteristics of a traditional cavalry charge: the deployment of the whole regiment, the use of mounted squadrons and the wielding of sabres as the main arm of combat. Few mounted regiments could still do this in 1942 and fewer still could carry it off with the outstanding success of the highly motivated and devoted ‘Savoia Cavalleria’. Fifty-four silver medals were awarded and three gold—one of them to the Regimental standard.

The ‘Savoia Cavalleria’ Regiment’s Officers at the Charge of Isbuschenskij

Staff:

Commander:

Colonel Count Bettoni Cazzago

Vice-Commander:

Lieutenant-Colonel Cacciandra

Adjutant:

Major Count De Vito Piscicelli di Collesano

Ensign:

Lieutenant Genzardi

Attached to RHQ:

Major Manusardi

Captain Aragone

Capt. Corrias (Vet.)

Lieut. Don Lidio Passeri (Chap.)

2nd-Lieut. Piemonte (MO).

HQ Squadron

Commander:

Capt. Vergano

1st Group of Squadrons

Commander:

Major Conforti

Adjutant:

2nd-Lieut. Crespi

1st Squadron

Officers:

2nd-Lieut. Rossi

2nd-Lieut. Rivolta

2nd Squadron

Officers:

Capt. De Leone

Lieut. Donadelli

2nd-Lieut. Gotta

2nd-Lieut. Bonavera

2nd Group of Squadrons

Commander:

Major Litta Modignani

Adjutant:

2nd-Lieut. Ragazzi

3rd Squadron

Officers:

Capt. Marchio

2nd-Lieut. Bussolera

4th Squadron

Officers:

Capt. Abba

2nd-Lieut. Toja

2nd-Lieut. Compagnoni

2nd-Lieut. Rubino

Machine-Guns Squadron

Officers:

Capt. Count Corinaldi

Lieut. Sgardi

2nd-Lieut. Bruni

2nd-Lieut. Foresio

2nd-Lieut. Scarpelli

Mortar Sections

Not given

Anti-Tank Company

Not given

1st (Horse-Artillery) Gruppo

Commander:

Major Albini

Adjutant:

Capt. Solaroli di Briona

Author

Bruno G. Just lives at Sydney, Australia, born at Muggia (Trieste), Italy. He is a school psychologist and former high-school teacher of literature and history.

References

Gibellini, Lieut.-Colonel V.: “The Last Charge.” Tradition, No. 46 ; pp.2-4.

Hibbert, Christopher (1962): Benito Mussolini: The Rise and Fall of Il Duce. (Penguin Books.)

Just, Bruno (1993): “The Last Cavalry Charge.” Despatch, Vol.16, No.5, March-April 1993. (Northern Sydney Wargaming Association Magazine.)

Lami, Lucio (1970): Isbuscenskij: L’Ultima Carica. (Milano, Mursia, 1997.)

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