Private Assuero Cassar of 3rd Battalion King’s Own Malta Regiment was on sentry duty in the battalion sector near Wied iż-Żurrieq. It was spring 1942, and Malta was expecting an invasion, but few expected that a landing would occur in that area, with its almost unscalable cliffs.

In fact, the Italians planned to land exactly there, between Wied il-Bassasa and Għar Lapsi, in what they had codenamed ‘Zona Famagosta’. There were few immediate defences to repel an invasion there. The seashore was cordoned off with barbed wire entanglements, and in addition to soldiers of the 3rd Battalion KOMR, there were also artillerymen with 18-pounder field guns covering the few inlets situated between the rocky precipices.

The private certainly did not expect anything untoward as he peered into the dark night, counting the hours until his relief. Then, four figures materialised seemingly out of nowhere. He had no time to fire his rifle or even issue a challenge; one moment he was pacing back and forth, the next, oblivion.

No trace of him could be found the next day, leading the military authorities to assume that he had gone absent without leave.

The police, as per procedure, conducted searches in his hometown, but when he was not found, Cassar was posted as a deserter. As the years passed, he was forgotten by all except, perhaps, by his wife and children.

This story was first published in 1976 in The Special Air Service Regiment journal. The author, Jimmy Quentin Hughes, makes no mention of the name of the private, referring to him only as “a sentry belonging to the Maltese Battalion (KOMR)”. It seems that the article came to the attention of Captain J. M. Wismayer, who concluded that the abducted soldier was Private No. 50556 Assuero Cassar.

In his book The History of the King’s Own Malta Regiment and the Armed Forces of the Order of St John, published in 1989, Wismayer writes that the incident occurred in June 1942, and that despite interviewing several servicemen of 3 KOMR, none could remember Cassar or his disappearance. Therefore, Wismayer concluded that the “strange case could be classified as the ghostly episode of a man who never was!”

But Assuero Cassar did exist. On April 4, 1941, he was reported for disposing of rubbish in front of a neighbour’s house. The police logbook in which the incident was filed provides more tantalising information. Cassar lived at No. 109, Annunciation Street, Ħamrun, and the family nickname was Taz-Zliku or taż-Żliku.

The first page of the personnel file of 50556 Private Assuero Cassar. Photo: National Archives of Malta

Part of the police report with Assuero Cassar’s nickname and address. Photo: National Archives of Malta

At the National Archives of Malta, the author also discovered the Military Service Record File of 50556 Assuero Cassar. He was born in Paola on August 12, 1914. On December 31, 1938, he married Mary née Debono, a widow. It is recorded that they had two children, although it is unclear whether Cassar was their natural father or their stepfather.

He joined or was conscripted in the KOMR on June 26, 1941. In August 1941, he was absent without leave for 22½ hours and forfeited two days’ pay as a punishment. In December 1941, he fell ill with dyspepsia and was only discharged from hospital and considered fit for duty in March 1942. And then he seems to have disappeared.

The story would have ended there had it not been for Anthony Rogers, the renowned author of several books about wartime Malta, who in 2019, uncovered a handwritten transcript of an interview conducted by Jimmy Quentin Hughes in 1966 with Gerhard Schacht, formerly an officer in the wartime German fallschirmjäger (paratroopers).

Translation of part of Hitler’s Kommandobefehl (Commando Order) which nearly cost SAS officer Jimmy Quentin Hughes his life. Photo: Anthony Rogers

Quentin Hughes had served as a junior officer with a field artillery unit in wartime Malta, before volunteering for the Special Air Service. In 1944, as a lieutenant with the 2nd SAS Regiment, Hughes was awarded the military cross in recognition of his role during an operation in which he was the leader of a unit parachuted into Italy to sabotage enemy aircraft, following which, he was captured.

According to the infamous ‘commando order’ issued by Adolf Hitler on October 18, 1942, Allied commandos and saboteurs encountered in Europe and Africa were to be killed, even if in uniform or if they attempted to surrender. However, due to the intervention of Gerhard Schacht, at the time a hauptmann (captain), Quentin Hughes was spared. So began a friendship between the two erstwhile enemies.

Schacht also had an impressive military career. In October 1937, he was transferred to the Luftwaffe (German air force) as a junior officer in Fallschirmjäger-Regiment 1 (Paratrooper Regiment 1). In May 1940, as a result of his performance during the operation to seize Fort Eben-Emael in Belgium, he was awarded the coveted Knight’s Cross. He was discharged as a major in June 1945, subsequently rising to the rank of oberst (colonel) in the post-war Bundeswehr (West German Army).

Gerhard Schacht, seen here as an oberleutnant. During an interview in 1966, he revealed that he led a four-man team which landed in Malta and abducted a private of the KOMR. Photo: Anthony Rogers

A photo of Major Gerhard Schacht taken in the last months of the war in Europe. Photo: Anthony Rogers

Little has been written about Axis clandestine operations in Malta, with the exception of that carried out by the Maltese fascist-turned-spy Carmelo Borg Pisani, who was disembarked during the night of May 18, 1942, at Ras id-Dawwara. He was unable to scale the sheer cliffs and was captured.

Less is known about palombaro (diver) Giuseppe Guglielmo, who, that same night, with the aid of a flotation device, paddled into Marsascala Bay, where he clambered ashore, taking note of anything of interest. However, when he swam back out to sea, he could not locate the launch that had brought him to Malta. He therefore returned to shore and hid beneath one of the derelict trams that lay in the area, until he was spotted by a fisherman and arrested.

No information was gained from either of the two missions.

In the transcript of the interview discovered by Rogers, Schacht briefly comments about another operation. In mid-1942, the Axis were preparing to invade Malta and were desperate for information about its defences. According to Schacht, General Kurt Student wanted a prisoner from the Maltese garrison so he could be interrogated about the strength of the island’s defences.

According to Gerhard Schacht, General Kurt Student (right) gave the order for a clandestine operation to capture a serviceman from the Malta garrison. Photo: Wikipedia

Despite his misgivings about the whole operation, Schacht, with three other men, were transported by submarine to somewhere off the south coast. The four boarded a rubber dinghy and quietly headed for shore. Their task was to take a prisoner, without attracting any attention.

Firearms were out of the question, so they were equipped with rubber truncheons. Part of their training for this operation involved hitting someone in the right spot but only with sufficient force to stun, not to kill. Very soon, they spotted the silhouette of a sentry, who, according to plan, was promptly rendered unconscious.

When Hughes asked Schacht if the man had offered any resistance, he was told: “He did not fight. I think he took us for ghosts.” The prisoner was carried to the dinghy and taken onboard the submarine.

In his 1998 book Who Cares Who Wins, Quentin Hughes identifies the abducted soldier as 50556 Private Assuardo [sic] Cassar. Allegedly, when Cassar regained consciousness inside the submarine, the operation met with a snag. The KOMR private could speak only Maltese. But, even when they arrived in Naples and an interpreter was found, it turned out that Cassar knew little of military value. The operation had been futile.

It turned out that Cassar knew little of military value. The operation had been futile

But what of the Maltese soldier? One would expect, in the normal course of events, for Cassar to have been despatched to a prisoner-of-war camp and there registered with the Red Cross. If he survived the war, he would have been repatriated back home. Had he died in captivity, there would normally be a record of his demise.

Of course, the possibility also exists that he could have been discreetly disposed of as a security risk. Schacht makes no mention of the private’s fate in the interview, but Hughes suggests, somewhat ominously, that “He was discarded as dross. Neither Malta nor his wife saw him again.”

The date of Cassar’s disappearance is unknown. What is known is that the military authorities declared him a deserter, that the campaign medals all servicemen received for their war service were never issued, and that even after 1955, when he was no longer liable to prosecution as a deserter, Cassar was still unaccounted for. His disappearance remains a mystery to this day.

Of course, there could be other explanations to the riddle.

Did Cassar accidentally fall off a cliff one dark night? Was he even murdered due to a grievance with a person or persons unknown? Did he indeed desert, somehow leaving Malta and resettling in some foreign land? Or was he really taken during a secret Axis commando operation?

One curiosity is that he was declared a deserter on June 14, 1943. If he had been captured by Schacht for interrogation, this must surely have happened in 1942. But if Private Asseuro Cassar was indeed abducted by Axis forces, it is surely time that he is given due recognition as another unfortunate victim of war.

Acknowledgements

The author thanks Anthony Rogers, Ruben Vella and the National Archives staff, without whose assistance this article would not have been possible.