Paddy Mayne

by Hamish Ross

  Now the enemy did respond and a force of about 400 troops attacked the area of the Resistance camp, but they were beaten off. So far, the SAS, by now built up to troop strength, had been entirely dependent on local Resistance groups for transport; it was not until twelve days after initial infiltration that four Jeeps were dropped. About this time, too, Tonkin became aware of dissension among the Resistance when he tried to contact a member of a Jedburgh team in the area and failed, ‘owing to Maquis jealousy and distrust’.35 Tonkin had to work with both FTP and FTR groups, and in his view the FTP, the Communist Maquis, were ‘singularly ill disciplined. They do not wish to come under the FFI organisation, who were much the best to work with.’36 Of course, the FTP had a different agenda: getting rid of the German occupation troops was the first item; the second was establishing a new order in France through insurrection. At the time, indeed, when Tonkin wrote those words (12 August) the situation in the Limoges area had deteriorated:

  In the Limoges [area], when the local resistance leader was at the height of his power in August 1944, a local prefect reported, ‘Here the war has given way to civil war.’37

  Tonkin’s troop continued with their work, disrupting the flow of enemy reinforcements to the Normandy front by cutting the railway lines again and again. When it was reported to him that the enemy was searching for them again and were only three kilometres away, he gave the order to move camp. At such a distance from the front, movement during the day was largely unimpeded: Tonkin, as though it was nothing exceptional, noted, ‘I took O’Neill to Poitiers hospital and blew a culvert on Lot 2 at U 7947. Estimated two days to repair.’38

  Throughout this time it was important for Mayne to be able to assess the situation on the ground, but information transmitted by wireless was limited in its scope. Homing pigeons were another medium of communication, but a very frustrating one. One pigeon flew home with a note expressing the sender’s exasperation: ‘Bugger this for a game of soldiers.’39 Sadler worked as Assistant Intelligence Officer to Bob Melot, piecing together incoming information – but they desperately wanted more detail. Sometimes, Sadler was able to fly as one of the crew of a supply plane and speak to the team on the ground by a secure short-range radio, which could be used for ground to air communication, as they circled the dropping zone.

  On 28 June, Tonkin heard sinister news: there was a large formation of SS troops in the area. The 2nd SS Panzer Division, Das Reich, was progressing northward towards the Normandy front, dragging the harrows of barbarism through the French countryside. In the quiet village of Oradour-sur-Glane, in response to the harassment of the Resistance, a unit of Das Reich herded women and children into the church, rounded up the men of the village and shot them, then set fire to the church. In all, over 600 men, women and children perished.

  The SAS Troop moved camp three miles; but the water supply failed and they had to move back. Then, on the morning of 3 July, the troop was attacked by a force of between 400 and 500 SS troops with mortars. Tonkin immediately gave the order to disperse, but he wrote, ‘Very few of the men dispersed. All those who did escaped.’40 He reported that a battle raged in which twenty enemy were killed and several wounded. But thirty-two men of his troop were captured; the others escaped. Lt Stephens was killed in the attack.41 Some time later, the SS took their thirty-two SAS prisoners into a wood in the early morning and shot them. Over the years, different accounts of the ambush were written, but the earliest is Tonkin’s report of 12 August. He knew that Lt Stephens had died of his wounds, because he later identified the body, but he did not know of the fate of the rest of his troop, for in his detailed nominal roll he noted against thirty-two names, ‘missing believed captured 3 July’.42 On 21 July, the parents of Lt Stephens received Mayne’s letter telling them of their son’s death.43 Disagreements surround the accounts of the ambush and the extent to which the SAS were armed: whether only with Colt .45 automatics or with rifles and carbines. Yet Tonkin’s end of operation report is quite emphatic: ‘A Colt automatic is definitely insufficient. Every man should have some long-ranged weapon, either a .30 carbine or a Bren gun.’44 On 14 July, Tonkin was informed that the SS had been bombed in their barracks, and about 150 of them had been killed.

  Tonkin tried to find new sites for a base west of Limoges, but judged the area unsuitable. They carried on blowing railway lines and the enemy responded by increasing the number of sentries on the line. However, it was clear that the remaining group – augmented by three American airmen who had baled out – was no longer able to carry on without major reinforcements, and it was decided to bring them out, and, of course, it had to be by air. An RAF specialist in landing-strip preparation dropped on the night of 28/29 July and they found a suitable landing ground. But they learned that a large body of enemy troops was preparing for a sweep of the area, and the next day the Resistance group was attacked by a force of about 1500. Tonkin requested fighter-bomber support. Within four hours of his sending the signal, the enemy was attacked and forced to disperse and withdraw. Tonkin wrote, ‘SAS stock went up very much with Maquis.’45 On the night of 2 August, in the first of two airlifts, two Hudson aircraft landed successfully and took off with ‘seventeen happy SAS and three delirious Americans’. Tonkin wrote his report in the UK on 12 August. But, by that time, Mayne was not around to be among its early readers: he had parachuted into France in the area in which Operation Houndsworth was taking place.

  Operation Houndsworth also began on the night of 5/6 June and took place to the west of Dijon. The principal objective was the disruption of railway communications on important rail links. Unlike Bulbasket, this force was built up to squadron strength and consisted of A Squadron under Bill Fraser. It comprised 18 officers and 126 other ranks and remained behind enemy lines for three months. It operated continuously and successfully over that period. Among its number were several from the early desert raids. One who was not of that period, however, was the regiment’s Padre, Fraser McLuskey. He had wanted to serve with a squadron in the field and had approached Mayne:

  As a Padre, I couldn’t have had a better boss. Because he had accepted me, he let me do my job. I always had his complete backing and confidence. It was very good of him, for example, to let me go with A Squadron into France, because I wasn’t a soldier with extra armaments. He felt that it was worthwhile and he allowed me to go.46

  On 13 July, a piquant situation presented itself to Bill Fraser that made him recall his former colleagues and his old unit, No. 11 (Scottish) Commando, when he learned, through what he described as a reliable French source, the location of the HQ of Field Marshal Erwin Rommel at La Roche Guyon. The Field Marshal had been there on 24 June; his staff were there all the time; and when he was there he tended to cross the Seine by motor launch and walk and shoot in the Forêt de Moisson.47 On 14 July, Fraser sent a signal to Brigade with this information and requested permission to take a small team and kill Rommel. Brig McLeod acted quickly, for it confirmed intelligence reports already received. He certainly discussed it with Mayne. Houndsworth and the HQ of the quarry were about two hundred miles apart; it might be accomplished if they were dressed as civilians but Mayne was against this and, as we shall see, a few days later put on record his counsel against SAS troops changing into civilian clothing. On 15 July, McLeod signalled back to Fraser refusing to agree with his plan and proposed instead parachuting in a small team of two officers and four other ranks. Back came Bill Fraser’s signal next day asking that the decision be reconsidered for he felt it was his responsibility. Brig McLeod, however, was adamant; and he drafted what became Operation Gaff, and, for a decision of this magnitude, put it to 21 Army Group for approval. He spelled out succinctly the aims of the raid: to kill Rommel, or kidnap and bring him to the UK. He conceded that kidnapping might mitigate the extent of enemy reprisals against the civilian population, but argued that it would be better to succeed in an attempt to kill rather than fail in an attempt to kidnap. Then he pointed out the logistical considerations: kidnapping
would require two-way wireless transmission and a larger party, ‘while killing could be reported by pigeon’. It went to the Chief of General Staff on 21 July and by that time the preferred option within 21 Army Group was, ‘the idea of killing rather than capturing the Gent in question’. And on the night of 25/26 July, the party of six from 2 SAS was parachuted into the area; but it was too late to have any chance of success, for on 17 July Rommel had been wounded in an air attack on his car as he drove to Vimoutiers. But the plans for both the 1941 and 1944 attempts to assassinate Rommel throw some light on the High Command’s policy within which Special Services operated: from ‘dirty work at the cross-roads with a vengeance’ to pick off the ‘Gent’ while he was walking the dog.

  Over the three successful months that it operated in Houndsworth, A Squadron’s casualties amounted to eighteen, of whom fourteen died in their aircraft on the way to the dropping zone. What happened to the plane is no clearer now than it was on 10 July, when Mayne wrote to the wife of Lt Leslie Cairns:

  On 17 June he left by plane with his section to join his Squadron Commander in France. The plane did not return and we have not been able to find out what happened. The plane might have been forced down by fighters or other enemy action, or had to land for some other reason, and we don’t know whether the men were able to get away all right or not.

  Leslie had a very good lot of men in his section, some of whom have been with us for a long time. If they got out of the plane, they will probably be in hiding now and trying to make their way back.

  I am terribly sorry this should have happened and I sincerely hope that we hear from them. I needn’t tell you how well we all like your husband.

  Yours sincerely

  R.B. Mayne48

  Since his regiment had the largest commitment in the field, Mayne was anxious to learn more about the situation on the ground than could be gleaned from wireless messages. The first written account of an operation that he obtained was that of Capt Leblond of the 4th French Battalion. Having studied the report carefully, lawyer and soldier came together in a memorandum Mayne wrote to SAS Brigade: he wanted to undertake an examination of the witness; and he drafted a series of questions to put to Leblond. At one level his questions were designed to find out more about how Jeeps were used and equipment stood up, but there was another level. He wanted to uncover what lay beneath some of Leblond’s statements, for, on the face of it, they were contrary to Mayne’s experience and judgement. Assuredly, it was the lawyer in him who queried apparent contradictions in the report and advised against SAS troops being encouraged to change into civilian clothes. Of course, at Brigade the perceptive reader of Leblond’s report should have been alerted, for there were implications for all units, but no one there had experience of SAS work so, on 20 July, Mayne took the initiative:

  Subject: 4th French Squadron’s [Battalion] Report

  I have read Capt Leblond’s report with great interest and have found his notes on [the] French Resistance, their troubles and habits most useful.

  There are some points, on which, if possible, I would like further information.

  Jeeps

  How were they used? How much were they used? By day, by night, cross-country, on roads, etc. Any mechanical difficulties they had. Whether they were difficult to conceal or not. Their effect on the enemy, and the enemy’s reply.

  How much the locals talked about them.

  Any suggestions for their improvement.

  Equipment

  Any criticism of the equipment.

  Did any rubber soles come apart from the uppers?

  Did any rucksacks break on landing, or any ropes on the way down, and, if so, what they considered to be the cause.

  Reference 5th Part

  I suggest the heading would be more apt if it read, ‘Lessons relearnt for SAS Units’.

  Para B

  I would be interested to know whether Capt Leblond had insisted on these essentials in the training of his men, and, if so, what in his opinion was the reason for not carrying them out on operations. Was it mental tiredness, physical tiredness, overconfidence, or excitement?

  Para C

  What are his reasons for not overloading rucksacks? Is it the obvious one of not overtiring the men and reducing their mobility, or because of a fault in the rucksack?

  Personally I consider the weight would depend on outside factors, e.g. terrain, distance to be covered, task, safety of journey, etc. For any long distance I would put the outside weight to be carried at 45 lbs.

  Para E

  I consider the chance of a primed grenade exploding inadvertently one in a million. I would very much like to have Capt Leblond’s reasons for saying ‘in particular that no one is carrying primed grenades in his pocket’ before emplaning.

  Para H

  A suggested list of prices would be useful to us.

  Para J

  Earlier in the report it is stated that Lt Apriou and his men are prisoners of war at Rennes. Here it is stated that you are shot however you are dressed. Which is true?

  In my opinion SAS troops should not be encouraged to change into civilian clothes.

  R.B. Mayne, Lt Col

  Commanding 1st SAS Regiment49

  These points were put to Leblond, whose responses reveal the perceptiveness of Mayne’s questioning. Leblond began by acknowledging that the most accurate title would be ‘Lessons Relearnt’ – at least for the British SAS Regiment. Then, as he elaborated his answers, it becomes clear that what Mayne had discerned in the report pointed to serious differences in the philosophy and training of the French and British units. Leblond went on to explain that in the 4th French Parachute Battalion there were officers who believed that infantry training and fieldcraft were not necessary for SAS troops. He, himself, did not agree with that position and insisted that it was essential to train his unit in fieldcraft and infantry methods. But the reasons, he explained, why essential elements of fieldcraft were not always observed in operations were due to tiredness in night marches and the overconfidence of some his men, ‘who had never taken part in a real war, or who had come from other services than infantry’. In his response to Mayne’s incredulity at claims of primed grenades exploding inadvertently, Leblond in part blamed the carelessness of his men in forgetting to part the twin tips of the safety pin. Mayne’s paper and Leblond’s responses then went to Brigade, where McLeod saw the value of Mayne’s exercise, and commented, ‘This is excellent.’50

  Policy at this stage barred British commanding officers from infiltrating behind enemy lines, but Mayne made a strong case for the ban to be lifted: his regiment had the largest commitment in the field; he was the most experienced commanding officer; and Brigade needed an assessment from a British regiment which neither radio signals nor reports from the French battalions could provide. But he also had another line of argument: a large airborne landing was planned near Paris with which his unit was to coordinate attacks. The case had to go to Gen Browning before Mayne was given permission and a briefing: he should coordinate action, not lead attacks. No doubt with a quiet assent and a disarming Irish smile, he agreed. He decided to take Mike Sadler with him and drop into the area of Operation Gain.

  Operation Gain was intended to cut the German lateral railway communications in the bottleneck area Rambouillet–Provins–Gien–Orléans–Chartres,51 and to carry it out nine officers and forty-nine other ranks under Maj Ian Fenwick were parachuted into the Orléans area between 14 and 19 June. The group began operations on 17 June and, in a series of attacks which they carried out on foot, blew up three rail routes and derailed a train on the Malesherbes–Puiseaux line. They moved to the main base in the Forêt d’Orléans and continued their operations from there. Then Ian Fenwick was told to keep the base secure pending an important drop (a large consignment of Jeeps). Before that happened, however, Mayne intended to join them.

  On the morning of Sunday 6 August, Sgt Bunfield received a message at the ‘Gain’ base that Mayne would arrive that
night if a dropping zone was given. However, no map reference was passed back to Brigade because at 1500 hr that same day a force of Germans attacked the camp.52 Only Lt Riding’s party, Staff Sgt Almonds and Sgt Lambert were at the base at the time, since Ian Fenwick had earlier dispersed his force. During the battle the Jeeps of Riding and Sgt Bunfield, which contained the wireless equipment, got out of the encircling cordon, and most of the others quickly dispersed, following their earlier instructions. However, the following day, when Ian Fenwick returned to Nacraysur-Rimarde, he was given distorted details of what had happened: it was said that Almonds and Riding were both dead and all the Jeeps lost. Fenwick drove to the area in his Jeep but was seen from the air by a German spotter plane: his route was signalled ahead, and the Germans set up an ambush at Chambon-le-Forêt. As he approached a bend in the road a little distance before the ambush, a French woman flagged him down and warned him that the Boche were ahead. But, as Riding recorded, Fenwick ‘is reputed to have said, “I intend to attack them.”’53 He drove full tilt at the enemy position with guns blazing and, along with a French sergeant and a lance corporal, he was killed.