Some days later, Rommel's HQ informed me that I was to be sent an Italian armored reconnaisance battalion, the Nizza. At first, I was not very pleased, as I had no great opinion of Italian weapons or morale. They duly arrived, well spread out and apparently still at normal fighting strength... They were proud Piedmontese and Venetians. They wanted to show they knew how to fight.
"May our patrols go on reconnaisance with yours?" I was asked by the commander and his officers. "That would be the best way for us to learn."
I inspected their armored cars and weapons. "More sardine cans" said our men, who were standing around inquisitively. Indeed, the equipment didn't even approach the standard that we had had at the start of the Polish campaign. It was hopelessly inferior to the British Humberts and antitank guns. And yet, the Italians wanted to be sent into action at the front.
In the difficult weeks that followed, my feelings wavered between admiration and pity for these brave men, who despite heavy losses, didn't give up and so remained to the end, our good friends.
We have, without a doubt, often done our Italian allies an injustice. Frequently mocked by our men as "Spaghetti-eaters," they were regarded, on account of their combat performance, as more a burden than a help. We failed to consider that their weapons and armored cars were far from coresponding to the standard of those which we or our opponents employed in North Africa.