Holding Juno
Page 16
By 1530 hours, the patrol had returned unscathed to le Mesnil crossroads and the men were told to bed down in Hanson’s house to get some rest before going out on the night patrol. It was the first sleep any of the men had managed since a dawn reveille on June 5 at Harwell Field in England. Yet the majority of the soldiers, including Swim, found rest elusive. After the early morning raid on Bavent and the shelling of the soldiers—obviously brought down on them by someone directing fire from nearby—the Germans would surely be lying in wait.
When one of the men began muttering darkly to the others that they should refuse the night mission, Swim slammed him against a wall, shouted into his face, and shook him roughly. But the soldier was undeterred, so Swim reported the man to MacLean, who in turn took the matter to Major Hanson. The major, a big, blustery, raw-boned man, called the entire section out of the house and lined them up. He dressed them all down, as if every one of them was attempting to shirk his duty. Then he grabbed the shirker, slapping him roughly several times, and left “him in no doubt about what would become of him if he ever showed signs of disloyalty again.” As the major stormed off, the other paratroops looked at each other in dismay, feeling Hanson had tarred them with the same brush as the man who cracked. Sergeant MacPhee quickly called the men together and assured them this was untrue, but Hanson’s fit of temper did little to improve chances of any managing some desperately needed sleep.
At 1900 hours, the patrol was formed up and given scant servings of food drawn from the twenty-four-hour ration packs of men who had either been evacuated with wounds or killed. Then the para-troops blackened their already filthy hands and faces with camouflage cream. The sergeants moved carefully down the line of soldiers, checking each man’s combat knife, gun, grenade load, and ammunition for problems. As the light bled from the sky and a moderate evening gale blew in off the ocean, each man studied maps and aerial photographs of the ground that must be crossed in darkness, memorizing bearing markers vital for keeping oriented.
Thunder rolled in the distance and lightning flickered across the sky as the patrol of paratroopers and six Royal Engineers filtered through the front lines. Once again, the men crept through the orchards to the lane bordering the canal and ventured along it with mounting trepidation. Private Swim walked point, with Sergeant MacLean and the platoon’s runner close behind. Then came Lieutenant Sam McGowan and his batman followed by Sergeant MacPhee, with the other Canadians and the engineers strung out behind. Bringing up the rear were privates Bill Chaddock, Ralph Mokelki, and Andy McNally.
Despite knowing the other men were there behind him, Swim felt as if he walked alone. All his senses were focussed out to his front, as he led the way up the “deadly straight section of the canal, breathlessly expecting an enemy magnesium flare and the violence of machine-gun fire [to come] lacing down the canal.” Thankfully, the earlier lightning had ceased and the heavy storm clouds obscured the moon and stars. Finally, Swim estimated the patrol was almost up to the outskirts of Bavent and turned to pass the word for a halt to allow a brief pause before going into the assault. A soft rasping sound out front caused Swim to freeze. A rifle bolt easing home? Swim waited, listening. Behind him, the others froze in place, waiting for the man on point to move or act. It was his call.
Swim discreetly signalled for MacLean and the runner to come up and he whispered a report into the sergeant’s ear. MacLean sent the runner creeping back down the line to fetch McGowan and caution everyone to maintain maximum silence. McGowan pondered Swim’s description of the sound he had heard and decided that rather than a rifle bolt being prepared for firing, it was more likely a German emptying the weapon for some reason. He sent word for Mokelki, fluent in German, to join the point group.
Then they eased forward to find a German sentry, stupefied with terror, standing alone, leaning on an unloaded rifle, its butt braced against the ground. McGowan gently eased the rifle away from the shivering soldier and they left him standing there, sending word back along the line for the paratroops to just ignore the man as they passed. The lieutenant realized the German would be afraid to tell his comrades that he had seized up with terror at the approach of the paratroop patrol and had been disarmed. Had any resistance been offered, a knife would have been drawn and the man’s life taken.
Swim guided the patrol past the enemy defences and into Bavent without incident. The paratroops slipped up darkened streets to the northeastern quadrant of the village, helping the engineers set booby traps in doorways and empty dugouts with explosives. On the edge of Bavent, the paratroops quickly established a firm all-around firebase among some of the buildings. While some of the men set up weapons here, the engineers and remaining paratroops ventured into the open ground towards the vehicle park. It seemed incredible that they remained undetected as the engineers opened truck doors to stuff bombs under seats, dropped charges down the barrels of unmanned heavy mortars, tucked other explosives into scattered buildings. Finished, the troops fell back to the firebase to rendezvous with the others.
It was about 0400 hours on June 8. Just as the men began to think an undiscovered extraction could be possible, a German shout broke the silence. The jig was up. “There was shouting from both sides. Tracers raced across the night through the apple orchards on the fringes of Bavent. Wild firing of hand-held weapons ripped the area as bullets snapped past and added to the ruckus. Soldiers and bullets careened through the dark streets of the village which neither side had known for long… Ricocheting steel whined, snapped and moaned on the night, feet scurried, men called for help, the devil danced to his own tune and blind combat in lovely Normandy took its toll.”20
Bullets snicking all around him, Swim dived into a depression, only to realize it contained an open cesspool. Unable to claw his way out, drowning in the deep sludgy waste, Swim cried out for help. MacPhee dashed through the bullets to drag the man to safety and the two men zigged and zagged out of the village towards the canal. When they reached it, Swim dove into the water to wash as much of the sewage off his skin as possible. The patrol was scattered to the winds now, men making their way back to le Mesnil crossroads in ones and twos. It was 0700 hours when the last soldier walked into the front lines. Miraculously, not a single patrol member had suffered injury. From Bavent, the sounds of gunfire continued throughout the night as the Germans fought it out with phantoms, and the paratroops listened with satisfaction as the sound of random explosions carried on the morning breeze, testimony to the effectiveness of their booby-trapping operation.
The exhausted men of ‘C’ Company heard with relief, however, that they would not be expected to patrol back to Bavent again. Lieutenant Colonel Bradbrooke thought the patrols so far run had been sufficient to convince the Germans to keep their distance from the battalion’s lines. Keeping the enemy at bay was critical, for if the Germans ever realized how few paratroops stood between them and the River Orne bridges, they would surely hit the battalion with overwhelming fury.
PART TWO
COUNTERSTRIKES:
D+2 TO D+3
[ 9 ]
Green As Grass
IN THE EARLY MORNING HOURS of June 8, the invasion was more than forty-eight hours old. Forced to face the failures of their tactics on D+1, Allies and Germans alike had to modify ambitions accordingly. Along the battlefront’s entire length, the Germans, meeting the invasion more fiercely than anticipated by the Allies, had checked the divisions striking inland from the beaches. Yet General Bernard Montgomery, who had arrived off the beaches aboard HMS Faulknor just after dawn on June 7, considered this setback of minor consequence. Boarding General Omar Bradley’s command vessel, the USS Augusta, at 0600 hours, Montgomery told the American general that his main concern regarding the First American Army operations was the gap between the 4th Division at Utah Beach and the badly pummelled 1st Division on Omaha. Montgomery pressed Bradley to secure his D-Day objectives, particularly by seizing Carentan and Isigny in order to establish a link between the two divisions. He then saile
d eastwards to confer with General Miles Dempsey, who assured Montgomery that “all was going according to plan on the British beaches and there was no cause for anxiety.”1
As the day progressed and Faulknor steamed back and forth in front of the invasion beaches, Montgomery decided Operation Over-lord was unfolding as it should. This perfectly fit his philosophy that it was his duty to “conceive and execute a simple, workable plan which could be easily understood by all concerned” and followed with clockwork precision.2 At the outset of planning Operation Overlord, Montgomery had warned the staff of 21st Army Group that he would “not get bogged down in details… I will give orders to the next lower commanders. Nothing will be in writing either in the first place or for confirmation. I never read any papers. Half of all papers are not read and the other half are not worth reading.” This was not an operational environment that encouraged subordinates to be bearers of bad tidings. So despite the growing crises many brigade and battalion leaders encountered on D+1, optimism prevailed from Montgomery’s headquarters down the line to all the divisional commands. Everywhere objectives were failing to be won, casualties mounted, and the enemy responded with increasing tenaciousness, but all this went unacknowledged by the invasion command.
From Faulknor’s bridge, Montgomery saw “no enemy air action and few signs of battle on sea or land. It was difficult to imagine that on shore a battle was being fought which was deciding the fate of Europe.”3 Deciding he could only fully appreciate the situation beyond sight of the warship by getting onto the ground, Montgomery decided to go ashore next morning and establish his headquarters behind the 50th British Infantry Division’s front lines.
Meanwhile, the invasion plan remained unaltered. Once Bradley established a link between his two divisions, the Americans would march on La Haye du Puits to cut off the Cherbourg Peninsula and then seize the vital port of Cherbourg. At the same time, Dempsey’s Second British Army would maintain a flank-holding position along the west bank of the River Dives while simultaneously capturing Caen and Bayeux. Once this phase of the operation concluded, Dempsey would “pivot on Caen and swing his right forward” to break into the Caen-Falaise plain.4 That had always been the plan and Montgomery saw neither need nor opportunity to justify its alteration.
Caen remained the primary objective for 3rd British Infantry Division and 3rd Canadian Infantry Division. Bypassing the city was not an option because its strategic position on the River Orne barred free access to the Falaise plain. One hundred miles long, the River Orne rose south of Argentan and flowed northwest to Thury-Harcourt, then north to Caen, and from there into the Channel. To gain the Falaise plain, British Second Army had to capture the bridges crossing the Orne in the city itself or the bridges southeast of it near Thury-Harcourt. To the southwest, the River Odon flowed in from the west to join the Orne on the city’s southern perimeter. Leaving Caen in German hands would permit them to use it as a strong base from which to attack the rear of any bypassing force.5 But the two divisions would have to fight their way to Caen through the mounting opposition offered by the German Panzer divisions beginning to arrive on the battlefield.
At the end of June 7, the 6th Airborne Division, with assistance from various units that marched to its aid from Sword Beach, had retained control of all the vital objectives it seized on D-Day east of the River Orne. For its part, 3rd British Division had been stymied in its attempts to seriously deepen the front west of the Orne that it had won on D-Day. Concentrating its attacks on the high ground in front of Lebisey, the division had been beaten back by thick automatic fire from heavily entrenched elements of 21st Panzer Division. Finally, in frustration, Major General T.G. Rennie broke off the head-on attacks in favour of trying to move battalions westwards to establish contact with the Canadians. This proved more successful, and by day’s end his 8th Brigade was tied in opposite the North Shore (New Brunswick) Regiment near Douvres-la-Délivrande. But the Germans still clung tenaciously to the radar station set right between the divisional flanks. And although the British 9th Brigade had managed to get up beside 8th Canadian Infantry Brigade at Anisy, it was still well short of the forward position 9th Canadian Infantry Brigade held at les Buissons.6*
To the Canadian right, 50th British Infantry Division had enjoyed a more rewarding day. Unhindered by the presence of any Panzer divisions on its front, the leading battalions had easily swept aside the
* Coincidentally, both the Canadian and British 9th brigades were commanded by brigadiers named Cunningham—D.C. “Ben” Cunningham and J.C. Cunningham, respectively.
weak resistance offered by German infantry and were soon receiving a liberator’s welcome in the streets of Bayeux. This city was the largest strategic objective as yet gained by the Allies.7
While the Canadians had reached their D-Day objective on the right flank when 7th Canadian Infantry Brigade cut the Caen-Bayeux highway and railway, the disaster that befell 9th Canadian Infantry Brigade’s North Nova Scotia Highlanders had resulted in a withdrawal of two miles on the left. This left 9 CIB about three and a half miles shy of Carpiquet airport. Wrenching this ground back from the grasp of the 12th SS Panzer (Hitlerjugend) Division promised to be no easy affair. Major General Rod Keller’s plan for the morning, however, was to do precisely that, with a renewed 9 CIB assault along the same route taken the day before. His other two brigades would, meanwhile, consolidate their positions to fend off expected counterattacks. Once 9 CIB punched through to the airport, the division would be “firmly entrenched in positions of great tactical value, prepared for further offensive operations” west of Caen. The city would be less than a mile to the left, and the moment 3rd British Division secured Caen, the drive into the Falaise plain could begin on a two-division front.8
Opposite the Allies, the German commanders charged with repulsing the invasion began to face the fact that no coherent strategy for defending Normandy had previously been developed. The tactical situation that had emerged on June 7 convinced Generalfeldmarschall Erwin Rommel that he must focus operations precisely on the same ground the Allies had selected as their primary objectives. To the west, he ordered Carentan “defended to the last man” to prevent the two American divisions making contact with each other. Then Rommel told I Panzer Corps Obergruppenführer Josef (Sepp) Dietrich that “a crippling blow should be delivered against the British before they became established” around Caen by hammering the full might of three Panzer divisions against the enemy standing between Caen and Bayeux. Rommel expected this attack on June 8, with primary emphasis and consequent artillery support given the 12th SS striking the Canadian front in the middle, while the 21st Panzer Division would come up on its right flank and Panzer Lehr Division the left.9
Despite thinking that Rommel’s orders were absurdly grandiose given the straitened circumstances of these divisions, Dietrich hastened to comply with their general tenor. The 21st Panzer Division, tied down in holding actions against the 3rd British Infantry Division and 6th Airborne Division, was in no position to undertake more than modest local offensive attacks. Panzer Lehr was still grinding towards Normandy from a holding area near Seventh Army’s headquarters in le Mans, dogged the entire way by Allied fighter-bombers. By late evening of June 7, the Panzer Grenadiers in the vanguard were only approaching Fontenay-le-Pesnel and Tilly-sur-Seulles, and still about six miles from the battlefront. The division’s tanks were still far behind and hours away. Dietrich knew there was no way this division would be in position for a morning attack. That left 12th SS to fight alone, with only a portion of its strength yet in position.
Considering what he had available, Dietrich decided to hit the Canadian right flank in order to open a wedge between them and 50th British Infantry Division, through which the Germans could drive right to the coast. This tactic had failed on the opposite flank when 21st Panzer Division had been driven back during its attempted advance on the night of June 6–7 into the gap between the Canadians and 3rd British Infantry Division. Standartenführer Kurt Meyer’s
25th Panzer Grenadier Regiment of the 12th SS, supported by elements of the 12th SS Panzer Regiment’s I Battalion, had also failed to carry off virtually the same manoeuvre the following day. But Dietrich hoped to succeed this time by striking where the Allied divisions were only tenuously linked, unable to support each other or coordinate their response to meet the German onslaught.
It was a tall order for the 12th SS, as the entire division could not participate. Having battered 9 CIB back from Franqueville through Authie and Buron to les Buissons, Meyer’s Panzer Grenadiers were now tied down keeping this brigade pinned in place. That left Wilhelm Mohnke’s 26th Panzer Grenadier Regiment, which in the early morning hours of June 8 had passed behind Meyer’s regiment to take up a position on its left, to carry out the attack. No tanks from 12th Panzer Regiment were yet available. The only armour Mohnke had were six 75-millimetre self-propelled guns from the 12th SS (Heavy) Company allocated to III Battalion. Mohnke detailed I Battalion to capture Norrey-en-Bessin, II Battalion Putot-en-Bessin, and III Battalion to secure the left flank by advancing just behind and to the west of II Battalion. When Panzer Lehr finally arrived, it would broaden the German attack on this flank, accelerating the creation of what should be a rapidly widening gap between the Canadians and 50th British Infantry Division. Tactics decided, Mohnke set his men marching towards combat.10