OPERATION "GAUDO"
AND
THE BATTLE OF MATAPAN
PART VI

 March 27 ~ 29, 1941
by Marc De Angelis

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Matapan’s Aftermath

When the surviving ships returned to their bases, Iachino had to report first to Riccardi and then, more briefly, to Mussolini.  The admiral, in his meeting with the Navy’s top ranking officer, immediately tried to stress the failings of the organizations that were supposed to facilitate his tasks, specifically the Air Force and Supermarina, and he lamented the fleet’s lack of aircraft carriers[1].  Mussolini, who some time previously had given up, at least in his heart, the notion that Italy, as an “aircraft carrier extending into the Mediterranean”, did not need that type of ship, ordered to resume the work aimed at transforming two steamships into aircraft carriers.  The decision, correct but late, ultimately was of no help to Italy’s war effort, as neither ship was ready at the time of the armistice.  In any case, it was a classic case of too little, too late.  The lessons learned by Japan, the United States, and Great Britain itself showed that a lengthy work-up period would be required before carrier aviation could be employed effectively.  Italy simply did not have enough time, even if her Navy had tried to speed up the process by leveraging upon the experiences of others.

On the issues of radar and night fighting, Italian officialdom had been caught totally unaware.  Both Rocca and Mattesini point out that, if the Regia Marina had paid more attention to events that had taken place in the previous months, it would have reached the logical conclusion that the British did not hesitate to use their capital ships in conditions of darkness.  Yet the Italians had to come upon Matapan to realize this in full.  The Germans, for their part, were surprised that their allies had not developed radar, whose principle - it is worth repeating it - was known.  So a few Italian ships were fitted with German radars, just like later in the war some destroyers were equipped with German-designed active sonars to improve their effectiveness against submarines.  Although beneficial, these measures always came too late to fill the technical gap between the Regia Marina and the Royal Navy.  As to flashless powder on capital ships, this problem was never, to my knowledge, satisfactorily solved.
 

The Italian Hospital ship Gradisca which participated to the rescue operations following the battle.
(photo U.S.M.M.)

If the technical gap between the two navies served as the powder that exploded under Cattaneo’s ships, the mistakes made by that admiral and his immediate superior were the sparks that set it off.  It has been stated already that one can only speculate about Cattaneo’s behavior.  Iachino, for his part, always strenuously defended his decision to send the entire First Squadron to Pola’s rescue.  To justify himself, he claimed that based on the deficient and incomplete data he had available to evaluate the enemy’s order of battle and intentions, his hapless choice was logical.  Rightly or wrongly, there is no doubt that the picture the admiral formed in his mind during that 28th of March was way too optimistic as he convinced himself that the main force from Alexandria was not at sea.  Others argued that, even if the information available to Iachino was only what he later admitted having (and on this question, as I have previously mentioned, doubts have been raised), there were still enough clues to believe that the British were on the chase. Hence, a bitter dispute, destined to last for years, arose from the very start, in a sense detracting attention from another consideration which I regard essential for a fuller assessment of Iachino’s mistake.  Even if the Mediterranean Fleet had not been at sea in its entirety, in fact, it is unlikely that the British, knowing that at least one enemy capital ship was dead in the water, wouldn’t have done their utmost to sink it the following day.  Therefore, had Zara and Fiume survived the night, they would have had to steam hundreds of miles, hampered by the Pola on the towline, while they were still vulnerable to enemy air and submarine attacks.  In the final analysis, the risk was by no means limited to the possibility of a night time action against surface ships, so Iachino’s decision would have been questionable even if one chooses to ignore Matapan’s actual outcome.

The shadow of Matapan would forever haunt Iachino individually and the Regia Marina as a whole.  The consequences of the battle - if Matapan can be called that - were heavy in terms of losses, but heavier still in psychological terms.  Matapan was a startling and dispiriting wake-up call for all those who, based on the actions off Calabria and Sardinia, had harbored the illusion that the Regia Marina was able to fight the Royal Navy on equal terms.  The rumors of a secret device that allowed the enemy to see in the dark became widespread among the crews, along with the - never confirmed - suspicion that the British had been informed of the Italians’ intentions by traitors within the Regia Marina. The movements of the fleet, already partially hamstrung by fuel shortages, were further restricted to avoid sending the ships in areas were air cover could not be guaranteed.  This was tantamount to admitting that the copious funds allocated between the wars to build those ships had been totally wasted, or nearly so.
 

The mast of a British radar model 286M (fixed) similar to the one aboard
 the Orion which was used to detect the Pola.
(Photo Howse)

The outcome of Matapan, which by Cunningham’s own later admission was only a partial success for the British, was as psychologically uplifting for the Royal Navy as it was depressing to the Regia Marina.  Cunningham was neither an innovator, nor a great strategist, but he knew the Mediterranean as well as anyone, he was tenacious, resolute, and aggressive, and he was immensely respected by officers and crewmen alike.  He was, in today’s phrase, a charismatic leader, nearly in Nelson’s mold.  Matapan gave him an aura of invincibility and led to his being lionized, perhaps beyond his merits.  In the hard times lying in wait for his ships, which just a few weeks later were to conduct the evacuation of the British expeditionary force in Greece, the memory of Matapan made more tolerable the deadly air attacks those units were subjected to in carrying out that thankless chore.  Once the Greek and Cretan airports were lost, the British units had to steam for a long time through waters where the Luftwaffe held air supremacy, and many were sunk or severely damaged in the process.  It would have been a golden opportunity for the Regia Marina, which instead failed to act upon it precisely because it was still licking the wounds it has suffered at Matapan[2]. 

Part VII

Translation by Sebastian De Angelis