General Mark Clark's British-American Fifth Army put on its raincoats. Day after day, as the Yanks and Tommies sloshed northward from Naples, the sky drenched the earth. The flat, brown Campania, hard and powder-dusty a fortnight ago, softened into a mire. Rivers swelled, spilled into the meadows along their banks.
Skillful German rearguards fitted the rains into the pattern of delaying action. Mines under the firm roads forced Allied columns to flounder in the gumbo beside the highways. Demolition charges toppled bridges into angry streams. Shielded by low clouds from strafing...
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