Catania WWII Museum
A museum in Catania, Sicily, southern Italy, that is primarily about the Allied landings in Sicily during “Operation Husky” in the summer of 1943, but its contents go far beyond this and actually cover the entire time of WWII and the run-up to it in Italy. Hence the title of this chapter (which is not the same as the official name of the museum).
>Combinations with other dark destinations
More background info: First of all, the official name of this museum is “Museo Storico dello Sbarco in Sicilia1943”, ‘museum of the landings in Sicily in 1943’, but since its coverage goes far beyond that period in WWII, I decided to give this chapter the simpler and more general title you see above.
The code name for the Allied landings in Sicily in the summer of 1943 was “Operation Husky”. It was kind of the logical next step after the Allies had defeated and kicked the Axis forces out of North Africa by May 1943. A deception plan (“Operation Mincemeat”) succeeded in convincing the Nazi German High Command that the Allied landings would rather take place in Sardinia and/or Greece, so reinforcements were sent there but not to Sicily.
“Operation Husky”, which began on 10 July 1943, was one of the largest naval and airborne landing operations of WWII, involving over 150,000 US, British and Canadian troops and tens of thousands of tanks, vehicles and guns on the Allied side, plus air support e.g. through bombing raids. The campaign lasted about six weeks and by late August 1943 Sicily was liberated and the Axis forces pushed out onto the mainland.
It was a costly operation on both sides, though, with nearly 7000 killed and twice as many wounded or missing on the Allied side and even larger casualty numbers on the Axis side, plus well over 100,000 taken POW.
The campaign also took a heavy toll on the civilian population, due to the relentless bombing raids flown by the Allied air forces targeting Catania, Palermo and other places.
The Allied campaign was co-ordinated from the Lascaris War Rooms in Valletta, Malta. The overall authority was under chief commander Dwight D. Eisenhower (the later US president).
It should not be swept under the rug that there were also instances of war crimes on the Allied side, including the rape and massacre of civilians and POWs.
Ultimately, “Operation Husky” was a success and paved the way for the Allied push up the Italian mainland in subsequent months, leading to the surrender of Italy in early September 1943 … even though the war in Italy then continued for nearly two more years now under Nazi Germany’s control.
The museum in Catania is not as old as you might think going by its style of presentation. It was founded only in 2003. It is housed in a building that is part of a revitalized former industrial quarter of Catania, which also includes several other museums (among them one about Italian film history) as well as other cultural institutions, run under the umbrella of “Città Metropolitana di Catania”.
What there is to see: When I arrived at the entrance to the museum a number of people were standing around outside and the doorway was blocked. It was explained to me that there was a school group guided tour in progress and we had to wait until they’d moved on. Eventually we were let in and, after parting with our money for the admission fee, were ushered into a smallish cinema room where an intro film was screened.
The intro film, in Italian with English subtitles, gave a brief summary of the course of WWII and how Mussolini got Italy involved in it, prior to the run-up to the Allied invasion of Sicily, with which the film ended.
We were then left to explore the ground floor at our own pace. The displays here are primarily several life-size diorama installations of wartime buildings, with meticulously recreated interiors, such as living rooms, bedrooms, kitchens, shops as well as a scene from a bombed-out city street. There is little in terms of explanatory texts here, except for a panel that outlines the decision to conquer Sicily first in the European theatre of WWII, as decided at the conference in Casablanca in early 1943 with the participation of US president Franklin D. Roosevelt and British PM Winston Churchill. Another text mentions how the United States got Sicilian immigrants, members of the Italo-American Mafia, involved in contacting anti-fascists and separatists to orchestrate acts of sabotage in Sicily. Apparently some members of the Cosa Nostra (see No Mafia Memorial) profited by being given special roles within the Allied military administration. Yet another panel briefly mentions the decoy “Operation Mincemeat” (see above).
All labels and texts are in Italian and most, though not all, come with a translation into English. The quality of these translations varies a great deal. Some are OK, others so clumsy and stilted (if not downright ungrammatical) as to be bordering on incomprehensible. Very occasionally, there are also translations into French (why only so sporadically remains a mystery to me).
Still on the ground floor is a kind of (nearly) life-size mock-up of an Allied amphibious landing craft, empty and devoid of any personnel, and more or less just left to speak for itself.
Upstairs, the main part of the permanent exhibition kicks off with an octagonal table of sorts onto which crudely animated displays are projected illustrating the advance of the Allied forces and the retreat of the Axis troops. Surrounding this are various panels picking out specific landing sites and initial battles, now largely without being accompanied by any translations into English. A few bilingual panels point out some war crimes on both sides.
There follows a hall with a series of about 20 or so large glass display cabinets ca. 2m x 4m in size filled with all manner of militaria, from uniforms to weapons, and from medals to flags as well as some personal belongings. These are grouped by country/army: Italian, German, US and British, plus an extra add-on for Canadians (and at one point there’s also a nod to Scots). This is all very old-school. It has more the atmosphere of a museum curated in the 1960s than one from the 2000s (though indeed the museum was first opened in 2003 – see above).
A few individual objects, claimed to be all original finds, are more interesting than others, such as the copy of a “Soldier’s Guide to Sicily” that was apparently distributed amongst the Allied troops for orientation/education purposes.
One large object specially picked out is a concrete bomb (literally, a bomb filled with concrete rather than a shell with explosives) – apparently the sort of model that bomber crews used while undergoing training.
There’s one more life-size diorama installation here, this time a roughly octagonal (mock) concrete bunker, the inside of which is peopled by two dummy soldiers busy with weapons, surrounded by sandbags and supplies.
Rows of panels are devoted to the hardware of the opposing belligerents’ respective armies, navies and air forces, others detail specific battles and it all goes into much military minutiae, too much to reproduce here – and indeed I found it too much to get me captivated.
One scale model surrounded by blow-up photos represents a crucial bridgehead battle. Another life-size diorama shows some sort of partisan with crude communications apparatus.
There follows a large hall in the centre of which are arranged a dozen or so different machine guns mounted onto what looks like turnstiles, and on the far wall large panels present the “protagonists” of the war, the Italo-German ones on the left, the Allied ones on the right.
A couple of large glass display cabinets feature wax models of some of the key protagonists (allegedly made by the artists of Madame Tussauds in London!). One is a scarily realistic Adolf Hitler in uniform, another the “Duce” Mussolini with a pensive facial expression together with another wax model of the Italian King Vittorio Emanuele III. Yet another display case has Winston Churchill and Franklin D. Roosevelt (together with a little table with a bottle of whisky and a box of cigars on it). These wax models are indeed quite stunningly life-like, clearly made by experts.
Another life-size diorama display is that of a Red Cross medical tent complete with an operating table, a military doctor, a nurse and a wounded soldier lying on a stretcher.
Yet another life-size mock-up is that of a military tent depicting the scene of the signing of the armistice on 3 September 1943, which ended the hostilities between Italy and the Allies (except that the German Nazis then had other ideas).
There follow various text-and-photo panels about the implementation of the armistice, about period propaganda, the fall of Mussolini, and the casualties of the battle for Sicily on both sides.
After another series of smaller glass cabinets with various items on display follows what seems like the final flourish: an installation representing a military cemetery with a single symbolic tombstone at the front onto which numerous names of fallen soldiers together with their ranks are constantly projected in a loop (with the names read out in a sombre soft voice piped in from the sidelines).
You would think that this was the finale, the end point of the exhibition. But descending another flight of steps back downstairs you come to yet another series of exhibition halls.
There are displays of some large exhibits such as various field guns as well as an Italian submarine torpedo. Furthermore there are scores of scale models of planes, tanks, etc. and some also in scale-model dioramas. It could almost be a scale-model shop showroom. In addition there are some bizarre arrangements, one of which includes five pairs of plastic hands grabbing at thin air in front of black-and-white photos of soldiers in action (don’t ask me what this is supposed to mean or symbolize).
In addition, to one side there is a separate extra exhibition about war photographer Phil Stern. Lots of his iconic photographs are on display, as well as some collages and photos of him in action, during the war, especially in Sicily, as well as afterwards (e.g. photos with Marilyn Monroe and Sophia Loren).
Back outside you can also see yet more guns on open-air display dotted around the forecourt of the museum and beyond.
All in all, I’m in two minds about this museum. On the one hand, it’s terribly old-school, and not always in a good way. It feels quite dated, even though it isn’t in reality, and all too often it gets bogged down too deep in military minutiae. The coverage in English is also incomplete and often faulty. Yet, on the other hand, some of the displays, especially the life-size dioramas and the wax models of the key protagonists, are really quite impressive. If you’re after accurate, comprehensive and well-organized information you may be disappointed, but let yourself be immersed in some of the visual highlights and it’s still very much worth a visit. Given that this is by far the largest WWII-themed museum in Italy (so it is claimed – and I haven’t discovered any others of this calibre in the country yet) it can be regarded as a must-see for anybody halfway interested in this period of history.
Location: Within the “Città Metropolitana di Catania” complex of a revitalized former industrial quarter right to the north-east of the main train station, about a mile or so (1.6 km) to the east of the cathedral and the city centre of Catania.
Google Maps locator: [37.5088, 15.1025]
Access and costs: a bit off the city centre, but still walkable; quite affordable.
Details: It’s just a stone’s throw from the main train station of Catania – it’s basically next door to it. From the city centre it’s a bit of a walk, but still quite doable. From the main tourist artery that is Via Etnea head east along Via Antonino di Sangiuliano or Via Giovanni di Prima to the end of Via 6 Aprile and the big roundabout in front of the main train station. Cross this roundabout in stages and continue along Orientale Sicula until you come to the entrance to the “Città Metropolitana di Catania”. The museum is located in building E5 in the back – panels (also in English) show the way.
Opening times: daily from 9 a.m. to at least 3 p.m., some sources claim to 7 p.m. (but I wouldn’t bank on it).
Admission: 4 euros (really quite cheap for what you get!)
Time required: I spent about an hour and a half in this museum, but if you want to read absolutely everything, you’ll need longer than that. A more cursory visit can probably make do with less than an hour.
Combinations with other dark destinations: Apparently, the museum also organizes tours to the Allied landing beaches on the south coast of Sicily. I did not pursue that option and hence can’t say anything about the details of signing up for or arranging such tours. But proper dyed-in-the-wool WWII history buffs may want to look into this possibility.
The immediate environs of the museum may appeal to those who, like me, are into industrial archaeology, as the “Città Metropolitana di Catania” retains some remnants of the industrial complex it is set in, with a whole host of old brick chimneys piercing the sky (I counted seven) and a former sulphur sublimation plant (now an empty brick shell that is home to a number of semi-feral cats). Allegedly there is also an associated museum about sulphur production, but although I looked for it long and hard I was not able to locate this elusive museum, not even with the help of the orientation panels dotted around. It simply wasn’t where the map charts said it was supposed to be.
For more see under Catania.
Combinations with non-dark destinations: The “Città Metropolitana di Catania” also comprises a few more museums, including one about (Italian) cinema, and another about writing instruments (pens) and yet another about ancient maps, for anybody who might come with the prerequisite special interests.
For more mainstream tourist attractions head back to the centre of Catania.