Churchill's Folly

by Rogers, Anthony; Jellicoe, Lord;

  A few seconds later willing hands grasped us and drew us aboard – we were safe … once on board I collapsed and when I came to under the warming influence of rum I found that Col Iggulden was in the same cabin; his first words sent a strange thrill of satisfaction through me – “Well done, Lukehurst”. We spent that day anchored in neutral waters and the following night went through to Leros.32

  There, they were reunited with survivors who had been picked up by a RAF rescue launch. As Lukehurst and his fellow soldiers recovered, none could have known that they would soon have to face yet another ordeal.

  7

  Leros

  17 September–11 November 1943

  Leros lies beyond Kalymnos near the northern extremity of the Dodecanese. Of irregular shape, it is some 9 miles in length and varies in width from approximately 0.8 miles to a little over 4 miles, with several islets just off the mainland. Leros is predominantly rocky and characterised by narrow valleys and grey, windswept hills, the highest of which is Scumbarda in the south (1,096ft). The island has a much indented and fairly inhospitable coastline dominated by steep cliffs. The few sandy beaches tend to be in the central region, notably in the bays of Grifo, Alinda and Gurna. The capital and main residential area of Platanos (previously Lero or Leros) is situated in a narrow coastal valley in the north-central part of the island, overlooked on one side by the promontory of Appetici with its ancient castle (at 620ft), and to the south by Meraviglia (669ft). A road runs through the centre of the island, linking the town with the chief port (Portolago/Lakki), and with branches leading to Italian gun positions on the heights. The Italians on Leros enjoyed a comfortable existence; a privileged few even residing with their families. Local Greeks led a more austere lifestyle and existed by farming small terraced plots on hillside slopes, as goatherds and as fishermen. After more than twenty years of Italian rule, both nationalities had learned to tolerate each other and, so far, Leros had escaped the fate of other disputed islands in the Mediterranean. This was soon to change.

  When the advance party of the Royal Irish Fusiliers arrived at Lakki on the morning of 17 September, no one was sure how the Italian garrison would react. As their destroyer approached the jetty, the commanding officer of the Faughs, Lieutenant Colonel Maurice French, prepared to disembark together with his Brigade liaison officer, Lieutenant Frank Smith:

  Our CO said to me: ‘You and I will go ashore first, Smith, but we don’t want to look too warlike, you know. I don’t think we’ll wear steel helmets, we’ll wear caps and just carry side-arms.’ ‘Very good, sir.’ Well, as we rounded the entrance to the harbour we were amazed to find that most of the Italians seemed to be congregating on the quayside – it was a reception party. A band played and gold-braided officers greeted the colonel and I as we walked down the gangplank. They thought it was a celebration, rather than a take-over … I accompanied various officers who were taking over the various command posts and defence sites and at each one we visited, bottles of vermouth appeared and before the day was over we were in quite high spirits ourselves.1

  More troops and equipment followed, including ‘C’, ‘D’ and ‘HQ’ Companies of the Faughs. The inevitable German reaction to the British build-up was not long in coming. Soon after arriving at Lakki on Sunday morning, 26 September, HMS Intrepid and the Greek Vasilissa Olga were attacked at their moorings with devastating results. Commander Charles A. de W. Kitcat, RN, had just left his ship when the attack developed:

  3. At about 0915 I set out for shore by motor boat in order to call on Commodore (D). When approaching the jetty I heard the sound of aeroplane motors overhead, and looking up saw a large formation of JU. 88’s at about 5000 feet. As I watched they commenced to dive, directing their attacks on the two destroyers. I at once returned to the ship, but before reaching it H.M.S. INTREPID had received a hit on the bulkhead between No. 3 Boiler room and the Engine room port side and within half a minute H.H.M.S. QUEEN OLGA received a hit in the after magazine. No warning whatever of attack was received; no Italian guns opened fire. Anti-aircraft armament of H.M.S. INTREPID was at five minutes notice but was in full operation before the first bomb had dropped. I saw pieces fly from one machine, obviously hit by her fire, and am informed that this machine crashed on the island.

  4. H.H.M.S. QUEEN OLGA rapidly filled, heeled over and sank. It is regretted that loss of life was considerable. Her Captain, Commander Blessas, was wounded when the bomb struck and was subsequently killed by cannon shell from an aircraft.2

  Lieutenant Geoffrey W. Searle, RNVR, was on board his vessel, ML 355, on the south side of the harbour:

  With a shattering explosion the stern of the Queen Olga blew off. She had a direct hit in the after-magazine. One destroyer sunk, the other was badly damaged. The repair shops, the barracks and the southern jetties were hit with considerable destruction. The German pilots could be proud of their precision but the defences should have done better. MLs 351 and 355 both claimed hits on the planes but could not claim that any were brought down …

  The Queen Olga had gone down with great loss of life. First there was the explosion itself; then as oil from the ship spread over the water, it ignited and the place where she had been lying at a buoy became a patch of blazing oil around which MLs 836, 356 and 354 circled as they tried to pick up survivors. MLs 356 and 354 had actually been alongside Queen Olga when the raid started and had only just cast off in time to avoid destruction themselves. Astern of us, only some fifty yards away, were the smashed remains of two Italian MS boats which had suffered direct hits by bombs. Ashore, the workshops and barracks were on fire and bodies were being carried out.3

  Intrepid was towed inshore where it was hoped that the rugged shoreline would offer some protection against air attack, and allow emergency repairs to be carried out. But when the Germans returned in the afternoon the destroyer was struck again. Among the casualties was Commander Kitcat, who was knocked unconscious (and remained so for three days). A young Lerian, Athanasios Paraponiaris, watched with his father and an Italian soldier as five bombers commenced their attack from out of the sun:

  The first aircraft dropped its bombs in the sea by mistake. So did the second and third. The fourth aircraft in the formation was hit by ground fire and blown to pieces. The Italian soldier cried, ‘L’ hanno battuto!’ [They got him]; ‘Oh, shut up!’ my father told him.4

  The Intrepid was seriously damaged and in the early hours of Monday, 27 September, she finally sank. Paraponiaris recollected the devastating results of the continuing air attacks:

  They [the aircraft] came from the direction of Tsigounas [San Giovanni], again using the sun to blind the ground defences. The Italians scattered. Only those manning the hilltop batteries remained at their posts. Up there, the British used whistles because their alarm wasn’t working. Nothing remained standing. Everything was destroyed. They bombed everything from one end of the island to the other; they bombed until dusk. There were eight to ten air raids from morning until midday.5

  Within less than a fortnight, the Luftwaffe would account for the Italian MAS 534, the steamer Prode, destroyer Euro, minelayer Legnano, landing craft MZ 730, landing ship Porto di Roma and the refrigerator ship Ivorea. Few Lerians had anticipated anything like it. The bombing resulted in an exodus to outlying areas. Shallow caves which had until then been used as goat pens, were taken over as makeshift shelters by civilians. Women huddled together and prayed for deliverance. When the bombing was close, they crossed themselves, moaning and trembling with fear. It was Malta all over again, or so it must have seemed to many, including the commander of 234 Brigade, Brigadier Ben Brittorous, who had recently arrived to take charge, leaving Lieutenant Colonel French to concentrate on the defence strategy. Previously, Brittorous had commanded 8th (Ardwick) Battalion Manchester Regiment (Territorial Army) in Malta. If he had ever been a well-respected figure, this was not so on Leros, where Brittorous was unpopular among officers and men alike. Major G.J. Ryan, deputy assistant quartermaster general (DAQM), h
ad an early introduction following his own arrival at Leros:

  I had heard a great deal about Brittorous – his fire eating propensities and his violent insistence upon being saluted on every possible occasion – and it was with some trepidation that I went to meet him. However, I had one card up my sleeve. I was to be the first to inform him of his local promotion, congratulate him and present him with his Major General’s regalia, and most men would find it difficult to be officious with the bringer of such news. I found him to be a short, red-faced man with a thick growth of dark curly hair and the most enormous black mustache, the ends of which he constantly twirled. He was very pleasant and was tickled to death to hear of his promotion. Our chat was general and I remember little of it except when I raised the question of our relations with the Italians and our need to know exactly what stores they had on the island. “Now look here Ryan,” he snapped “I won’t have you upsetting the Italians or demanding things from them. Our relations with them are excellent at present and I will not have them upset. If there is anything you want, ask them for it and if you have difficulty come to me. Is that clear.” From my recent conversations with Dickson [sic: Major Richard H. Dixon] and Boyd (the Staff Capt) I was not very happy about these ‘relations’ but as they were both in the room and said nothing, and as I was very much the newcomer I thought it best to acquiesce and say nothing too.6

  Ryan set to work supervising the delivery and distribution of supplies, but his authority was constantly undermined by the brigade commander.

  It soon became apparent that Italian co-operation was not what it should be. They were stalling. If one went to them with a direct request (not demand, mark you) it would probably be granted but they made no attempt to offer assistance or to advise about the facilities available on Leros. If we were to conserve and make maximum use of our meagre resources it was essential that we should know what was available locally. The British were responsible for the total defence and administration of Leros – British and Italian garrisons and the civil population. If we were to carry out our responsibilities, then we must know what stocks of food, petrol, oil, ammunition and general stores were available so that we could reinforce where necessary and with maximum economy. But we did not know and the Italians would not tell us. I went to the General time and time again “The Italians have promised us this information, Ryan, and we will get it in time” he replied “Our relations with them are perfect – [the Italian commander, Contrammiraglio Luigi] Mascherpa and I are the best of friends – and I will not have them bloody well upset. D’you understand?”7

  In spite of the difficulties, Leros and Samos continued to be supplied by sea and, to a lesser degree, by parachute drops, from dumps established at Alexandria, Beirut and Haifa, and in Cyprus and neutral Turkey. All kinds of vessels were pressed into service to deliver cargo to the islands.

  The speed with which these ships were unloaded was remarkable. Two or three destroyers each carrying 40 to 50 tons were in and away in 30 or 40 minutes. I think the record was 25 minutes. Speed was essential. Every night enemy aircraft were over the island dropping flares in search of shipping. More often than not the destroyers had an air battle when leaving the island and sometimes they were spotted as they approached and had to turn away signalling that they would try again the following evening … Submarines remained longer. They would come in at dark and if necessary remain to the last hour of darkness before slipping away to submerge in some sheltered spot for the day until the journey could be continued the next night. Caiques were easier. They were local craft and common to the islands. It did not much matter if they were seen during the day but their unloading, too, had to be carried out during darkness.8

  Initially, a combined Naval and Brigade Headquarters was established in a building in Lakki. As the bombing of the port intensified, Brigade Headquarters shifted to San Nicola, and was followed by Naval Headquarters two days later on 6 October. When bombs began to fall dangerously close to San Nicola, Brittorous relocated his staff to its Battle Headquarters in a tunnel on top of Meraviglia, in the centre of the island. The increasing attention of the Luftwaffe affected everyone, even those who had experienced the worst of the bombing in Malta. Most managed to control their fear and simply carried on with their work. A few succumbed and were evacuated. If anyone should have been an inspiration for others during this trying time, it was Brittorous. Yet, according to Major Ryan:

  The General by now had lost the little respect or confidence which may have at one time, rested in him. He left the entire responsibility for the defence of Leros to Lt. Col. French, made no effort to advise, visit the defences or contact his officers and men. On the occasions he met the men, who were tired out and sweating at their digging, he did nothing but curse them in lurid language for not saluting him properly. He lived in the tunnel where he slept on a ledge on one side of the H.Q. alcove and where his batman would wake him at 0400 hrs. with shaving water and breakfast. Woe betide everybody if he had been disturbed during the night or if his breakfast was not ‘just so.’ Well before it was light and before the daily bombing was likely to start, he would leave in his Jeep with batman and driver, for a shady tree conveniently situated near another bomb proof tunnel and far away from any habitation, on the Partini [sic: Partheni] road. There he would stay for the rest of the day.

  If one wanted to consult him on any question – and after all he was the General, G.O.C. in C. Aegean Forces – to the tree one would have to go, being very careful to park one’s jeep or motor cycle a good 200 yards away from his ‘domain’. On one occasion Owen Gethin, the R.E. officer, failed to do this and left wheel tracks on the verge opposite the tree. Bedlam was let loose. To the accompaniment of oaths, the Officer was compelled to find a rake and immediately scrub out the offending tracks which would have told the Luftwaffe exactly where the G.O.C. Aegean was hiding.9

  Another with vivid memories of the irascible commander was the commanding officer of 3rd Light Anti-Aircraft Battery, Major John M. ‘Pat’ McSwiney. During a quiet period, he decided to take a swim in Partheni Bay:

  I was riding a motor-bike at a reasonable speed when I noticed, out of the corner of my eye, an officer, with a red band to his cap, sitting some distance off the road. I heard a shout, which I felt inclined to ignore, but decided not [to] be ‘bolshie’ so I turned the bike round and walked back to where the Brigadier [sic] and his ADC were sitting under the shade of a juniper tree. I saluted. “Who are you?”, said the Brigadier, and, “why didn’t you salute me as you passed?” Both seemed rather strange questions. I felt like asking him who he was, and why we had never met before, considering the part I had already played as one of his senior officers. I thought he must be a bit ‘loony’, so I played along with his questions, and apologised for not having saluted him before. He offered me a drink of whisky, which I declined as it was barely mid-day. “Where are you going?” was his next question. “To reconnoitre, Sir” was the obvious reply. I saluted again, got on my bike, had my swim, and returned the way I had come, remembering to salute as I passed. After I got back to Battery HQ (in a dugout on the side of Meraviglia) I went down into the operations room deep underground in Meraviglia itself. I found the senior Staff Officer (a GSO 2, the same rank as myself) and asked him who the ‘old boy’ was. He was astonished that I had never met him before, but from what he told me then, I realised that the Senior Officer on the island was this extraordinary man, who had completely lost his nerve, and therefore spent most of his time drinking the island’s few bottles of whisky. It appeared that he retired to his Juniper Tree, from which he could observe the bombing by day, and at dusk took sanctuary in the hill fortress.10

  As a young infantry officer on the Western Front in the First World War, Brittorous had won the Military Cross and was twice mentioned in dispatches; more recently, he was awarded the Distinguished Service Order for his role in the disastrous operations in France in 1940. But Leros, it would appear, was altogether too much. In the evening Brittorous would retur
n to Fortress Headquarters to receive the daily situation reports:

  Reports finished he would dictate a signal to Cairo, most of it based upon our reports and pertinent, but always exaggerated – 80 sorties by the Luftwaffe would become 280 and the damage done exaggerated proportionally. They were always toned down by Dick [Major Dixon] before dispatch … Contempt for the General was becoming very noticeable, so much so that Lt. Col. [W.R.] Brackett, the gunner expert on the island, left for Cairo ostensibly to report on the defences of Leros but in reality to convey the feelings of the officers towards the Command to higher authority.11

  The major general’s good friend, Contrammiraglio Mascherpa, set no less of an example for the Italians. It was noted that his morale had deteriorated to such a degree that he:

  Spends most of his time in a tunnel in the rocks, exhibiting every symptom of anxiety neurosis …12

  Up to the end of October, operations in the Aegean had been controlled by Middle East Command through III Corps Headquarters (Force 292) and 234 Brigade (under Brittorous) on Leros. Developments dictated the necessity for a separate command to handle operations in the area. On 1 November, Major General H.R. Hall was appointed general officer commanding Aegean, with the specific task of holding Leros and Samos in order to cause maximum disruption to the enemy’s lines of communication in the Aegean. In addition, he was given command of all Allied (including Italian) land forces in the area, as well as naval personnel in shore establishments that did not come under the Commander-in-Chief Levant or the senior British naval officer Aegean. On 5 November, Major General Hall and Brigadier R.A.G. ‘Dolly’ Tilney arrived on Leros, and Headquarters Aegean assumed control of operations. Hall decided to make Samos his headquarters and departed on 11 November, leaving on Leros Tilney who relieved Major General Brittorous as Fortress Commander. Presumably, Lieutenant Colonel Brackett’s report had made an impression. For many, the departure of Brittorous was long overdue. This did not necessarily mean that everyone was satisfied with his replacement. Typical were the misgivings echoed by Lieutenant E.B.W. (Ted) Johnson of 2nd Battalion The Royal Irish Fusiliers: