After discussing with Capt Croucher and Tinker what was our best move, we decided to make for an escape point [Porto Cassio] situated on the east coast of Monte Tortore just opposite the island of Pega. We chose this one as we all knew of a cave there which was in a very deserted part of the island. We decided to make our way there at once and were joined before leaving by Capt Craig who had been the Brigade IO. It seemed impracticable for us to join the LRDG HQ party at Patella, as our own chances of finding them were small, and we thought the enemy would soon search that populated area.3
Five days of non-stop action took effect as men were overcome with fatigue. For the British and Italians, news that the battle was over was received with mixed feelings. There was anger, disappointment and puzzlement over the outcome; few relished the prospect of months or years in a prison camp. At the same time there was an indescribable sense of relief and an overwhelming desire to simply lie down and sleep. Lieutenant Mold, physically and mentally exhausted, was, like many, nearing collapse when at about 8.00 p.m. he set off across country towards Patella:
All went well until I bumped into Michael Rochford’s party. He was almost done and as he had come across some barbed wire had convinced himself that the obstacle was a minefield. I remarked I couldn’t remember a minefield in the area and decided to go through with Michael, his party and my party following. I made a point of passing back that the LRDG party (mine) were to follow on. We proceeded cautiously at first and after about ¾ hr walking bumped into Doc Lawson’s party almost on the Patella track. I told Michael to follow on Doc Lawson’s party and I waited for my chaps to go by – They did not materialise and I went back for about ½ hr [and] met 2 or three R. Sigs chaps who said that they had come all the way round the track and had not seen my party of LRDG. From then on I did not see my party again. I went on myself and eventually made the coast at a point inside the harbour boom. There, I found Michael flat out, it appeared that he had decided to rest and told his party to split up into twos and threes and make their own way. I skirted the area and found the greater majority resting with the intention of packing in the next day. I could persuade none of them that I was on a good thing in escaping chiefly because we only now had waterbottle and chocolate ration. I returned to Michael who had apparently tried to get on to the beach and nearly broken his neck but I persuaded him we could find a way which I eventually did through an Italian gun position. My idea then, although it now seems a little absurd, was to get along the coast, over the boom and round the point on to the sea-side of the island. We made [our way] along the coast cautiously in fact too cautiously, for it took us several hours to reach a position 200 yds from the boom. By this time we were wading waist deep manoeuvring round rocks etc and I last remember seeing red tracers covering the boom and could only assume I had a blackout.4
Colonel Prendergast’s party had also headed for the coast:
Our resources were very limited. Between us we could muster one small bag of sugar and one or two tins of bully. We were all very lightly clothed, and both Capt Tinker and Capt Craig were in considerable pain through having been buried in slit trenches by very near misses of bombs. Capt Croucher had a bad leg from falling into a bomb hole. I sent these three officers and a Pte [H. Thompson] of the King’s Own Regt who had joined us, to the cave on Monte Tortore with instructions to wait for me there. I decided to go myself to Monte Scumbarda to find out what had happened to Lt White and his patrol who had been doing very useful work there. Before leaving I tried to contact any other LRDG personnel from the large crowd of rather demoralised troops in Portolargo [sic], but failed to find any. I advised as many officers of other units as I could find, to try to reorganise their men and to make for one or other of the escape points. Everybody, however, appeared too tired to want to do anything but sleep.
I made my way along the road to Scumbarda. After a very steep climb, I arrived there about midnight. Lt White’s patrol had used a cave as a store and place for the wireless set. I found at this cave Pte Lennox, who told me that he had been sent down the cliffs to Cape Scumbarda to try and find a boat Lt White knew was there. The boat had been destroyed by a bomb, and when Pte Lennox got back he found that Lt White and the patrol had pushed off, and he did not know where they had gone. He therefore readily joined me, and we loaded up two rucksacks which were in the cave with as much rations as we could carry, and blankets.
While we were at work in the cave some Italians came in, and stole my field glasses which I had put down. I told them to give them back, and they retaliated by producing revolvers and a Tommy gun, and told us that we were their prisoners. They tried to disarm us both, and when we refused, they started shooting into the cave. I demanded to see their CO, and Lennox and I, with heavy rucksacks on our backs, were pushed rather ignominiously to the flat top of Scumbarda on which the coastal gun position was located. The Italian officers were in a subterranean control room and appeared to be pretty tight. Their men were all gesticulating and talking and drinking, and I found it very difficult to get any sense out of anybody. The Italian Commander told me that the British had let them down and that he was proposing to hand us over to the Germans. We decided to make a break for it and ran off down the road to the best of our ability. The Italians then opened fire but missed us because it was fairly dark. I turned round to see if Lennox was following and saw what I thought was him lying on the ground; I went back and found that he had tripped over, and we were immediately collared by the Italians and brought back to the gun position. We made another break for it and this time got away without being hit.5
Although only the SBS and the LRDG appear to have formulated contingency plans, information was sometimes shared with individuals from other regiments. Major Pat McSwiney of 3rd LAA Battery recalled:
I made my way to Portolago, fighting a rather futile rearguard action with a Bren gun as I retreated, before hearing of the news of the final surrender. I was utterly exhausted, both mentally and physically, and found that my legs would barely respond to orders given to them from my brain. By chance I met up with Eric Rawlinson [Captain, Royal Artillery], and together we made for the northern end of Portolago Bay, where we found a deserted house and a dump of NAAFI goods. Among them was a bottle of whisky; I drank almost the whole of it in half an hour but it had no intoxicating effect. It did however clear my head, and coordinate my limbs: it proved to be a real life saver!
I knew the geography of the island well because of my earlier responsibilities, and both Eric and I had maps showing the original rendezvous points on the coast, that had been arranged with the SBS, should the island fall into enemy hands. One of these was relatively close to where we were at this moment, and yet it was unlikely to be swamped by would-be escapers, as Mt. ZUNCONA was quite a steep climb, and the wadi where we should be lying up could only be reached by tackling it. It was obvious that the vast majority of the troops would be taken prisoner, but it was the duty of officers and senior NCO’s to escape if possible, and we reckoned that unless we were in our hiding place by dawn, the chances of not being rounded up were slim. While discussing these plans, three more [Royal Artillery] officers arrived, Lt. John Davies and Majors Reed and Hall; both the latter I had not met before, and had been on the island for a relatively short time, together with a couple of artillery sergeants, making a party of eight [sic]. We each collected a two-gallon water can, tins of bully beef and a few packets of biscuits, which we assumed would be sufficient for the two or three days, while we waited for an SBS boat to put in at midnight at the given rendezvous. Major Reed, considerably my senior in age, was elected leader of the party, and I was voted Navigator and Second-in-Command.6
Other troops had to fend for themselves. Lieutenant Clifford Clark was determined not to become a prisoner of war, wishing to spare his family the shock and anguish of receiving a telegram advising them that he was missing in action:
I gathered the men together, told them what had happened, and advised them to try and escape. I told them to brea
k up into small parties, to get food and water, and to take to the hills until they decided on a plan. Unfortunately, there was no laid on plan of evacuation or escape, so I could do no more for them. I picked my party carefully and wished the rest the best of luck.7
Clark’s group consisted of one other officer and six ORs:
Our little party found a house with some stores, where we ate some bully and biscuits, and after putting either a tin of bully or M.&V. or a packet of biscuits in each of our pockets, we moved off down towards Porto Lago. We also took a greatcoat or a blanket each: I took a blanket …
Our rough plan was to get down to the harbour and try and find a boat. We knew it was now or never for that, as it would be the first thing the Germans would cover. If this did not succeed we intended taking to the hills and making further plans.
We moved carefully. We could hear planes overhead, but for the moment the harbour seemed to be clear of Germans. We searched around, but every boat seemed to be a wreck or badly holed from the bombing and useless. We met other groups doing the same thing, but there was nothing. Just when we thought we had drawn a blank we found an Indian R.E. Sgt. and an Indian Sapper uncovering what appeared to be flat pieces of canvas and wood from underneath some debris. There were two other groups doing the same thing. What a find – three R. E. canvas folding assault boats! We decided there and then that we would take one boat, and the two Indian R.E.s, and make for Turkey.
While we were fitting up our boat, with the able assistance of the R.E.s, I sent C/Sgt. Milton to get a two gallon can of water from a pump in Porto Lago. It should take about ten minutes, but I said I’d give him half an hour.
One of the other boats had just been launched, but it had not been fitted up properly and it sank almost immediately. It had been crowded and I think some chaps were drowned, the rest looked a sorry sight as they pulled themselves back on to the quay. And then there were two!!
The second boat seemed to fare better, had a successful launching, and moved off into the darkness of the harbour.
By this time we had got our boat fixed up properly, only to find there were no oars. Were we to be beaten at this stage? The R.E. Sgt. dashed away and in a few minutes was back with four oars and some flat pieces of wood which others could use. We didn’t ask where he got them!8
While awaiting Milton’s return, Clark was approached by Major Barnett, DAQMG Raiding Forces, who claimed to know the islands. He was allowed to replace Milton when he failed to arrive back at the appointed time. The escape party included a third officer, Lieutenant Arthur Stokes, who at some point during the battle had been dispatched with his platoon to reinforce Clark at San Giovanni. The remainder comprised five ORs of the Royal West Kents: Colour Sergeant Hayward, Sergeant George Hatcher, Corporal Hunt, Private Moore (Clark’s batman) and Private Thompson as well as two Indian sappers. They had just two water bottles between them. Clark, who was suffering from the effects of malaria, was thankful for the reassuring presence of Stokes, who quietly urged the paddlers to keep going. They had not gone far before machine-gun fire from the harbour entrance indicated that the enemy had spotted the other boat. For these unidentified men, all hope of escape vanished within seconds as their boat was torn apart and sank. The survivors, some of whom were wounded, struggled in the dark, cold water with no option but to head back for shore – and captivity. In the last remaining boat, everyone knew that at any moment they might be next. They had to trust to luck and a flimsy, flat-bottomed craft just 18in deep and measuring 15ft x 4ft:
We were rather quiet for a bit but no-one suggested turning back. Our first problem still remained negotiating the boom across the harbour, avoiding the machine gun and getting clear of the harbour.
When we got to the boom, we found there was only one break, in the middle, the rest being heavily spiked, which would have sunk us straight away. We crawled around this, and back to the opposite side of the harbour from where we knew at least one gun was. Perhaps there were more, and on our side! We had to chance it.
We hugged the bank and made slow progress, hardly daring to breath in case the slightest noise brought our journey to an abrupt end with a hail of lead. It literally took us hours before we even got to the end of the harbour, but we did get there, and decided to make straight out to sea for at least a mile before we headed North.9
Major George Jellicoe had persuaded his captors to allow him to return to his men, ostensibly to persuade them to lay down their arms. In fact, he had no such intention. In the early hours he returned to brief his officers, as the joint force of SBS and LRDG were preparing for what was anticipated to have been a final dawn attack by all available troops. Among those present was SBS Captain Bill Blyth:
He [Jellicoe] announced to everyone’s surprise and horror that the island had surrendered at 1700 hrs the previous evening and all resistance had finised. He then gave orders that any man who wished to try and escape were to collect 7 days’ rations and sufficient water and he was going to contact Lt Comd Ramseyer at PARTENI BAY for some form of sea transport.10
Jellicoe and Ramseyer rounded up some ninety personnel who boarded a caique and a motorboat and at about 4.30 a.m. departed Leros for the nearby island of Lipsi. After a day spent in hiding, all re-embarked at dusk and reached Turkey the next morning.
Amid the confusion, someone apparently neglected to keep the RAF informed, for during the night, 216 Squadron flew twelve supply sorties to Leros. As a result of this wasted effort, one Dakota (FD790) was obliged to ditch off Turkey; the crew and dispatchers survived.
Dawn on Wednesday, 17 November. All over Leros, men on both sides stirred in their defensive positions. In stark contrast to previous days, there was virtually no gunfire. Instead, German troops were happily singing their national anthem. It made little sense to those who were unaware that Brigadier Tilney had surrendered his command. The sense of unreality was heightened by the arrival of German seaplanes, which alighted unimpeded in Lakki Bay. The victors could hardly believe their good fortune as they laughed and joked and were at last able to appear in the open without risking their lives. For those who awoke as prisoners of war, it was altogether different. Many, on learning that the fighting was over, had simply rolled themselves in blankets and slept. Having had a few hours to recover from their exhaustion, they now faced the shocking reality of spending the rest of the war in captivity. After four years of war, some may have considered death or injury a possibility; for others a victorious homecoming had become a virtual certainty; few could contemplate surrender.
The Royal West Kents on the northern shore of Gurna Bay learned about the capitulation just after daybreak. Tarleton recounted:
The whole Bn. was tired, hungry and bewildered by the news. A meal was got together from various food dumps, articles of value destroyed and escape parties improvised.11
For most, however, there was to be no escape:
Individuals and small parties … lay up for various lengths of time, but had to give themselves up for want of food or water, or were picked up by GERMAN patrols.12
At Lakki Bay, Lieutenant Peter Mold was still suffering from the rigours of the previous few days:
I awoke to find myself sprawled across the rocks, (some 100 yds or so beneath the M/G position covering the boom) very wet and cold – dawn was just breaking. I climbed in amongst the rocks and found a spot where I could hide. I took off my wet clothes and having dried myself on my handkerchief I can distinctly remember covering my feet with it apparently thinking it would keep them warm! I stayed thus until the sun was up when I had a bite of my chocolate ration and some water. I had an excellent view of several E-boats, seaplanes and other craft entering the harbour and I rested thus until the evening.13
Others met with varying degrees of success. The party under Majors Reed and McSwiney reached the tiny inlet of Porto Cassio on the south-east coast, set up camp in a gulley 400 yards inland, and then settled down to await the arrival of the expected rescue vessel.
Colonel Guy P
rendergast had made his way with Private Lennox to Point 228 (Mount Tortore). There, they found Trooper McLean (who had become separated from Lieutenant White’s patrol) and, shortly afterwards, Captains Croucher, Tinker, Craig and Private Thompson. Officers and men teamed off and took up residence in two small caves in order to recuperate and plan their next move.
Lieutenant Clifford Clark and his group of nine had paddled for all they were worth until they reached an islet off the north coast. At daybreak, they hauled their little boat ashore, hid it under a ledge and then collapsed exhausted.
An equally determined effort was made by four escapees who had taken advantage of the disorder to give their captors the slip: Corporal Taffy Kenchington and fellow Faugh, Fusilier Ryan, together with members of the LRDG and SBS, made their way to Gurna Bay where they found a small boat. Their voyage to freedom was relatively uneventful. After rowing through the night and for much of the next day (18th) they reached Turkey, where local forces handed them over to the British Vice Consul.
Others were less fortunate. On Tuesday night around 100 men were seized on the beach opposite Scrofe after mistaking a German patrol vessel for a rescue craft. Just two men of the Royal Corps of Signals escaped.
At least one person seemed to be in no hurry either to surrender or flee. In the morning, Captain John Olivey ordered his men to make for an escape RV. Two attached subalterns, Freeman and Price, were instructed to make their own way to Alinda. Olivey remained at Clidi, with the intention of gathering his belongings and changing into a clean uniform. He was interrupted by the arrival of several Germans – but played dead until the patrol moved on. Olivey armed himself with a sniper rifle and a German pistol, then went in search of a suitable hiding place and settled down to sleep. That evening, he returned to Battery Ciano and prepared explosive charges with the intention of destroying an already damaged gun, together with the main magazine. After having set the charges, Olivey needed a pull switch in order to ignite the fuses. He was unable to find one. His only other option was to light them using fuse matches.
Churchill's Folly Page 27