By 1943, the Allied powers agreed that they needed to win the Second World War as swiftly as possible. However, their leaders could not reach agreement about which course to take to end the conflict. The USA was calling for a cross-channel invasion of France, considering that crushing Nazi Germany was the obvious route to victory. Churchill, on the other hand, was aiming to force Italy into submission first, terming the Mediterranean the “soft underbelly” of Europe. Once Italy fell, argued Churchill, victory in northern Europe would inevitably follow.
After much heated debate (and it’s not hard to imagine how heated that debate was, with Stalin and Churchill involved), a compromise was agreed. As well as preparing for the preferred American attack on France, the Allies would attack Italy, beginning with a massive seaborne invasion of the island of Sicily. The island was well-defended, had good airfields, and would provide a solid base for the invasion of mainland Italy if they achieved its capture.
Prior to the invasion, one of the most famous deceptions of the war was carried out successfully. A dead body was “planted” off the coast of Spain, where it was picked up by a fisherman. Documents on the body indicated that the Allies were planning to invade Greece, thus diverting attention away from Sicily. The body was that of a vagrant named Glyndwr Michael, dressed in the uniform of a Royal Marine. The famous pathologist Sir Bernard Spilsbury assisted in ensuring that everything about the deception, known as Operation Mincemeat, was plausible.
The invasion of Sicily was controversial from the start. Several disastrous episodes made those senior commanders who had always been cautious about approving it, believe their worst fears were coming true. Operation Husky, as it was codenamed, began with the dropping of paratroopers into Sicily on the night of 9th July 1943. The paratroopers were scattered, and some captured, but by July 10th a massive amphibious operation had landed 170,000 Allied troops on the island. Then came tragedy. On July 11th , the worst “friendly fire” episode in history occurred, when 300 American paratroopers died as their planes were shot down by anti-aircraft fire from their own side.
Operation Husky was invasion on a massive scale. Seven divisions of Allied troops were engaged and over 3,300 ships, more than had ever been deployed historically, and a figure that has not been matched since. It was bigger than the better known D-Day of the Normandy landings. The leaders of the forces were proven military chiefs, including General George S. Patton, Major-General Guy Simonds, and General Bernard Montgomery.
By September 1943, the Allies were on mainland Italy. The campaigns that followed were tough and bloody ones, with some of the most brutal engagements of the Second World War. Yet somehow the sacrifice of the troops involved in the Italian campaign, including Americans, British, Canadians, Polish, French, Indian, Gurkha, Australian, New Zealand and Brazilian forces (and those of several other nations) came to be overshadowed by the events of the better-known D-Day operation: the Normandy landings.
As the Allied forces battled their way up the coastal plains on either side of the Apennines, the mountainous spine of Italy, the Italian government quickly sought peace. Mussolini’s rule as dictator was over in 1943. The majority of Italian people were sick of the war and many greeted their invaders as liberators and joined with them. However, the Italian Axis forces were not the greatest danger facing the Allied soldiers. This came from the German forces that had retreated from Sicily and were now holding key positions across Italy and prepared to defend them at any cost. In the areas of German control, Mussolini continued to hold power as the head of the collaborating Italian Social Republic. Eventually he would be summarily executed by Italian resistance fighters.
The rains and floods of the Italian autumn of 1943 turned the mountains to thick mud and Allied casualties mounted. Autumn turned to a winter of blizzards, and still the Italian campaign continued. Throughout the early months of 1944, combined British, American, Canadian, French, and Polish forces battled on, finally breaking the Nazi line from Monte Cassino to the sea. Still it was not over. The last Allied offensives continued into 1945. As leader of the U.S. Fifth Army, Lieutenant General Mark W. Clark summarised it, the alleged soft underbelly had proved to be a tough beast indeed. Some 330,000 troops died on both sides during the course of the Italian campaign.
The most enduring aspect of the D-Day Dodgers is the song that eternally commemorates them. Harry Pynn, a sergeant of the Tank Rescue Section 19 Army Fire Brigade serving with the 78th Infantry Division in Italy, came up with some new words to accompany the plaintive tune of Lili Marleen, also known as Lili Marlene, a love song popular with both Allied and Axis troops.
The original words of the song came from a poem by German lyricist and poet Hans Leip written in 1915. Invoking the romantic image of a girl under a street lamp waiting for her lover, a version by Lale Anderson that coincided with the outbreak of war was played regularly on radio stations across the globe. Later, the song would be a hit for Marlene Dietrich. The tune and lyrics, filled with yearning, touched the hearts of homesick, lonely troops on both sides of the conflict.
In contrast, there was no romance or longing about Harry Pynn’s version. He took the tune that every soldier knew and turned it into a raucous ditty that was a bitterly sarcastic comment on the overlooked troops in Italy. Oh yes, it implied, we’re having a wonderful time, with plenty of sun, wine, and signorinas; wish you were here?
We’re the D-Day Dodgers out in Italy
Always on the vino, always on the spree.
Eighth Army scroungers and their tanks
We live in Rome – among the Yanks.
We are the D-Day Dodgers, over here in Italy.
Where did the idea that the troops involved in the Italian campaign were dodging danger and avoiding D-Day in Normandy come from? It obviously wasn’t true. It being wartime, and despite warnings that “careless talk costs lives”, the story centred on the politician Lady Nancy Astor, a socialite member of the famous American Langhorne family. Lady Astor was the first woman to sit as an M.P. in the House of Commons.
The rumour flew that it was Lady Astor who had coined the phrase “D-Day Dodger” for those who were avoiding the rigours of the D-Day campaign and having an easy time in Italy. This appears to be based on a misunderstanding, at least according to Lady Astor herself, who wrote a letter to a newspaper about it. She had received a letter from one of the British soldiers signing himself, with great irony, “D-Day Dodger”. She had replied in kind, “Dear D-Day Dodger”, knowing full well that the phrase was used by the soldiers with bitter sarcasm about their situation in Italy. No insult was intended; but it was too late, because rumour was flying round troops and civilians alike before truth had got its boots on.
The story about Lady Astor’s role in the creation of the myth of the D-Day Dodgers resulted in some even more biting verses being added to the song. The least scurrilous (and the cleanest) was this one:
Dear Lady Astor, you think you’re mighty hot,
Standing on the platform talking tommyrot
You’re England’s sweetheart and her pride,
We think your mouth’s too bleeding wide,
We are the D-Day Dodgers in sunny Italy.
The song became a standard of the post war folk music scene, with versions by Pete Seeger, Hamish Henderson, Hamish Imlach, The Spinners, the Clancy Brothers, and many more. It is scarcely surprising that the descendants of those ordinary soldiers who were involved in the Italian campaign still believe their essential contribution is less appreciated than that of the D-Day combatants. The final verse of Lance-Sergeant Harry Pynn’s bitingly sarcastic song told the full truth, and the final truth:
Look around the mountains in the mud and rain,
You’ll find the scattered crosses,
the sum that have no name,
Heartbreak and toil and suffering gone,
The boys beneath them slumber on,
They are the D-Day Dodgers who stay in Italy.
Letter of condolence to the family of Company Sergeant Major Frank Davies of the Somerset Light Infantry who died on 16th September 1944 in Italy.
Dr Miriam Bibby FSA Scot FRHistS is a historian, Egyptologist and archaeologist with a special interest in equine history. Miriam has worked as a museum curator, university academic, editor and heritage management consultant.
Published: 23rd June 2026.
