by Hamish Ross
Meanwhile, the 4th Canadian Armoured Division was held up as the fighting became virtually static. They were unable to cross the canal and clear Garrel, and Gen Vokes recognised that he no longer had suitable employment for SAS troops. But II Canadian Corps was anxious to have as many SAS as possible, as they had a high opinion of them, and so Brig Calvert sounded out Mayne about placing the Belgian SAS Regiment under his command, while allowing them to retain their own identification. He indicated that the Belgian unit’s leader, Blondeel, was most agreeable. But by this time Mayne was with Poat, and Calvert’s message seems to have been partly corrupted in recoding and transmission, or it was interpreted by Mayne as meaning further fragmentation of his unit, for a note of irritation comes through in his response.
For many reasons I consider it most essential I have my own complete unit under my command. Not a happy arrangement as it is now. Not particularly desirous of having command of anyone else. Would never think of merging Belgians’ identity with our own. 38
Calvert then clarified, ‘I suggested Belgians should operate under your command to increase your command and effectiveness and to give them the benefit of your leadership.’39 At the same time, discussions started on reassigning Poat and his squadron back to Mayne, and Calvert confirmed that this would be effected when Hibbert relieved Poat.
On 20 April, Brigade sent a brief message that David Stirling had been reported released; and the next day they followed it up, reporting that Stirling was in ‘great heart and sends many messages and congratulations to all and hopes to come out and visit you soon’.40
II Canadian Corps lost no time in coming up with alternative employment for 1 SAS. On 24 April, Mike Blackman signalled to Mayne that it was proposed that they should now work with 2nd Canadian Armoured Division north-west from the lake by Bad Zwischenahn towards Esenz on the North Sea. However, operations would be unable to start for a few days and Blackman was concerned, because across their entire axis the country was strewn with bog marsh and canals. Mayne replied that he was arriving by plane the following day at about 1500 hr, and went on, ‘Do not take any decisions until I arrive.’ Within the regiment there was a belief that Mayne would not commit them to an operation in which he had little confidence. McLuskey referred to this:
One of the things I marked about him was his ability to sum it up – opportunities. On a number of occasions, he refused to do something with his men because he thought it wasn’t worth it or wouldn’t work. And his men knew that and they always felt that if they went on an operation and he had okayed it, it was all right.41
Mayne did not like the plans and enlisted Calvert’s support; and he signalled to Poat that he was unhappy with the proposed operation for Tony Marsh’s squadron, nor was he keen to have Poat involved in it.
On 27 April, while there was stalemate, Calvert sent a top-secret message to Mayne and Franks telling them that an operation was being talked about for Denmark; it would be on the scale of the Amherst operation and would precede the arrival of the Allied forces. According to Calvert, the conditions were favourable: resistance and local reception was well organised and the country was suitable for Jeeps and for concealment. Next day Mayne responded, ‘Although I have no information on which to base my views, Denmark would appear a suitable and useful task. If it is on, I would like as much time as possible to concentrate equipment and prepare.’42 However, the unit was, meantime, allocated to 2nd Canadian Armoured Division and was not going to be profitably used, argued Mayne. Calvert understood the situation and he was supportive, but he told Mayne that he, ‘must be firm’ in telling the Canadian brigade in time what was not possible. Calvert then sent a personal signal to General Commanding Canadian Forces stating that Mayne considered that because of the tightness of the front, the large number of canals and the extent of the enemy’s minelaying, the unit could not operate effectively without heavy casualties. But of course he had to comply.
Progress was slow, and Jeeps were a liability. Mayne formed the squadron into two infantry platoons, and on 29 April they advanced one mile, but had a man killed by a mine. Mayne referred to it briefly in a signal to Poat, who had not yet been relieved by Hibbert: ‘Tony’s squadron now plodding along through bog and rain on their feet. Nobody very happy.’ Calvert then sent a second signal to the Chief of Staff concerning the misuse of the unit, and on 2 May the Chief of Staff passed it down to the division. But the wider situation was changing rapidly; the surrender of Germany was imminent, and Mayne was ordered by Brigade to move to Belgium, and hence to the UK to prepare for their next role.
The picturesque version of their homecoming, which was first painted by Marrinan – and which has been dutifully repeated ever since – has the unit arriving by boat, laden with war loot, to find His Majesty’s Customs and Excise out in force to search the Jeeps; whereupon Mayne orders his men to drive off the ramps at speed, sending the customs men fleeing for their lives. In reality, however, Mayne was nowhere near the unit when they tied up at Tilbury dock; he had not come back by sea: he returned by air from Brussels at 1230 hr on 8 May; and the following day, Tony Marsh and the squadron sailed from Ostend for the UK.43
They had little time to prepare for Operation Doomsday, the policing role in Norway. According to the original briefing, it was envisaged that the SAS would have a comparatively short stay in Norway, for the war in the Far East was expected to continue for some time.44 On 14 May, the regiment began to arrive at Stavanger airport. Mayne set up his headquarters at the barracks in Kristiansand, where there were about 25,000 Germans; 1 SAS was responsible for Kristiansand and the area to the west of the River Torridal. The regiment’s duties included disarming the Germans and, through liaison with them, disclosure of hidden Gestapo, SS and other suspected war criminals. Patrols were sent out periodically to Mandal and Lista and Enejemoen. The unit was very warmly received by the Norwegians; and on 17 May, for the first time in five years, the Norwegians celebrated their National Day.
But the unit’s stay in Kristiansand was brief: on 26 May, both 1 and 2 SAS sailed for Bergen. It was here that the SAS encountered most difficulty in apprehending Gestapo and SS personnel, for this ‘was one of the orders which the Germans tried at first to circumvent, pleading every kind of excuse from absence to non-existence of the men and women in question’.45 However, these attempts – made with the knowledge and assistance of some high-ranking German officers – were disclosed and the SAS persevered; the ‘biggest catch was the head of the Gestapo, Dr Weimann’. There were also about 4,200 Russian prisoners of war, whom the Germans had impounded in Bergen. The British officers were impressed by their cheerfulness and cooperation; and on 20 June Brian Franks, 2 SAS, held a dinner in his mess for the Russian officers. Calvert opened an Allied Club for officers and another for other ranks.
Mayne and his officers anticipated that their role in Norway would be a short intermission before the regiment was sent to the Far East. On 13 June, Brig Calvert wrote to Gen Simonds of II Canadian Corps, under whose overall command Mayne and the two squadrons of 1 SAS had operated in north-west Germany.
We hope to be going to the Far East sometime, so this is a pleasant period in between.
. . . Some of your formations have had close associations with the SAS and if there are any officers and men who are keen to come out to the Far East with the SAS, and are allowed to do so, we shall give them a big welcome.46
It was at this time, too, that the unit’s chronicler, Mike Blackman, completed his compilation ‘Birth, Growth and Maturity of 1st SAS Regiment’. He wrote, ‘Although the German war has been won, there is still fighting in the Far East. Japan has yet to be conquered.’47 Then, as early as 4 July, Brig Calvert returned to the UK to deal with other SAS responsibilities and ‘to make the necessary preparations for the withdrawal and concentration of SAS troops prior to their departure for the Far East’.48
Meanwhile, in July and throughout August, the repatriation of German forces took place; the Germans were taken in groups a
nd first searched by SAS troops before embarking. According to a Brigade report, relations between the SAS and the Norwegians were very cordial. On 28 July, Crown Prince Olaf visited Bergen and inspected the troops. Roy Close left Norway before the unit pulled out. Here he gives a glimpse into their duties and their relationships with the Norwegians.
We were rounding up Luftwaffe and German submariners. They took the view that they hadn’t lost the war; they were untouched because they had been bypassed. They were very arrogant so we had to round them up, disarm them and put them in POW compounds. What we did was to do all of the work in the morning and in the afternoon we waterskied round the fjords. We had made some waterskis out of old packing cases and we’d taken these German Sturm boats. And then, when we got back to our billets, we went through the invitations for the evening from friendly Norwegians and decided which ones to accept. We got back, perhaps early next morning, just before we went on parade to round up the next lot. That went on for some time.
There was a wonderful chap called Ted Badger, a fellow officer, and towards the end of our stay in Norway I had to go to Paris to help in the SAS office that was being set up there. You would think that when the signal came, and said, ‘Please nominate an officer to an office in Paris,’ that you would get killed in the rush. Not at all! Nobody wanted to go; life in Norway was much better. So we actually did draw straws and I lost; I drew the short straw. So, when I went, Ted Badger came to me and asked if I had ever read a book, Lost Horizon, by a chap called James Hilton. Something to do with Shangri-La? I said that I had. And he said, ‘You know what happened to them when they left Shangri-La?’ I said that I did. And he said, ‘They all fell to pieces; the flesh fell off them. When you get to London, send us a signal to assure us that you are all right. This place must be like Shangri-La.’ It was a wonderful thought on his part. You could say that Norway was a bit therapeutic.49
Elsewhere, at the highest level within the Allies, strategic decisions had been taken and the atom bomb was used. Japan surrendered on 15 August, and three days later the advance parties of the SAS Regiments left Norway. On 25 August, the regiments sailed for the UK on the SS Dunotter Castle. On their departure, ‘1 and 2 SAS Regiments were not replaced by any other British troops’,50 and on 15 September command of the Bergen Zone passed from British to Norwegian hands.
Over the years, the departure of SAS troops from Norway has become tainted, according to some anecdotal accounts of a large street brawl between troops and the local police. No reference to any incidents, large or small scale, appears in the Brigade report – there is not even a hint of tension. It may be that some local incident became exaggerated over time. But it is most improbable that Crown Prince Olaf of Norway would have visited the British regiments had a major incident taken place before 28 July. As the withdrawal of SAS troops had been scheduled to take place sooner rather than later, the final stages of the repatriation of the German forces who had invaded their country would have been most appropriately overseen by the Norwegian authorities. And in the light of Mayne’s letter to Tony Marsh the previous November, where he was so concerned about the unit’s public profile, it is hard to believe that behaviour which was not condoned in Brussels would have been tolerated in Bergen.
Disbandment lay ahead – and soon. But the regiment would not pass into oblivion, for the interest of the media had been turned to it. The change had come about the previous year. The press, during both world wars of the twentieth century, performed an important social function and the military was aware of its important role. On 11 May 1944, Gen Eisenhower, Supreme Allied Commander, issued a directive to all military commanders indicating that at his first press conference as Supreme Commander he had told the war correspondents that once they were accredited to his headquarters, he considered them ‘quasi-staff officers’. He instructed commanders, subject to operational requirements – of which they would be the sole judge – to allow correspondents sufficient scope ‘in order to visualise and transmit to the public’.51 Mayne kept a copy of the directive in his file; its import was not lost on him. So while the official record of the 8th Army was written up in 1944 in ignorance of the identity of the unit, the press and radio began to describe the work of both British SAS Regiments in France. The press went on to give an outline of the unit’s activities in the desert war, and so began a process of romanticising its achievements that would continue for the next half-century and beyond. Mayne was the leader who had the continuity with the unit from its birth; he was written about. In one 1944 newspaper report, for example, Mayne’s activities were compared to a Bulldog Drummond escapade.52 In another he was portrayed as the cool hero who, having placed time bombs on enemy planes, ‘strolled into the officers’ mess of the German coastal battery and dealt with the occupants before driving away’.53 But the unit had been correctly identified and Mayne was portrayed as its dashing leader. So while he was a man who courted no publicity for himself, he was happy to talk to a BBC correspondent about the unit. It happened in Paris after the regiment had returned from Norway.
Roy Close was now in the Paris office of the SAS, whose function was mainly a goodwill operation.
We had to distribute certificates and letters of thanks to the French who had helped us in the final campaign as well as trying to find out about those of the regiment who had been posted missing. David Astor, a major in the Royal Marines, had been in charge of the office. It was in the Paris office that I met the person who was to become my wife; she was in the WRNS and had worked in an office liaising between the regiment and the Free French. She was posted to work in the Paris office of the SAS. Paddy came over to visit the office when I introduced him to Robin Duff, a BBC war correspondent whom I had met there and who had earlier interviewed one of our patrols after a mission in France. We all had dinner together. Afterwards, Robin Duff told me that Paddy told him he was very proud of the regiment, made up of all kinds of fine people – even some intelligent officers.54
The unit’s final base was at Chelmsford. Mike Sadler and Sgt Maj Rose returned from their bond-raising tour of the USA. Their last combat operation behind them, everyone had to give some thought to the future; and as the regiment was to be disbanded, the process being completed in about one month, they would soon be precipitated again into civilian life. Roy Close remembered their facing it:
Few of us knew what we would do. I remember sitting with colleagues and asking the question, ‘What the hell are we going to do now?’ We couldn’t make up our minds, and so there was a lot of concentration on trying to find the right direction. Most of us were not trained for anything in civilian life. We had to come to terms with the fact that life was not going to be the great exciting thing that it was during the war.55
For Mayne, by comparison, it could have been relatively simple: a few weeks demob leave and then a return to practising law. However, nothing would ever be the same again for him. No avenue of life could equal the excitement, the achievement and the responsibility he had had. With the volume of paperwork that had to be undertaken for a unit about to be disbanded, and with writing references for officers and men who might need them in the future, Mayne had not a great deal of time to reflect on his own future in civilian life. So he responded, on the instant, to an opportunity that came along. Mike Sadler did not feel like returning to Rhodesia. He was acting as adjutant during those final months, when an invitation came to the unit asking for volunteers to join the Falkland Islands Dependencies Survey for a two-year contract to work in Antarctica. It appealed to Sadler. ‘I took it to Paddy and said, “I’m volunteering.” He said, “If you’re going, I’m coming too.”’56 In fact, three of the unit volunteered: Mayne, Sadler and Tonkin.
And there came an elegant conclusion to the five years Mayne spent in Special Services, in the form of a letter from Bob Laycock. Although Mayne had not been under Combined Operations control for the past year and a half, Laycock’s letter reveals a patron’s pride in a protégé. It is also a very warm letter. For it
was he who, in June 1941, recognised Mayne’s potential from his results at the Litani operation, and who, the following month, was able to recommend him to David Stirling; and it was largely under his command that Mayne had led the Special Raiding Squadron.
Combined Operations Headquarters
1A Richmond Terrace
Whitehall SW1
28 August 1945
My Dear Paddy
I feel that I must drop you a line just to tell you how very deeply I appreciate the great honour of being able to address, as my friend, an officer who has succeeded in accomplishing the practically unprecedented task of collecting no less than four DSOs. (I am informed that there is another such superman in the Royal Air Force.)
You deserve all the more, and in my opinion, the appropriate authorities do not really know their job. If they did they would have given you a VC as well.
Please do not dream of answering this letter, which brings with it my sincerest admiration and a deep sense of honour in having, at one time, been associated with you.
Yours ever,
Bob Laycock57
Rarely could a career officer have been addressed in such terms by a general; but for a lawyer, turned soldier for the duration of the war, it must be unique.
In October 1945, the regiment was disbanded. During the final parades, Mayne stood out in height and breadth of shoulder, an impressive figure, wearing the beige beret from the desert days. He was occupied with administration until the beginning of November; then he cleared his desk, and left the Army.