by Griff Hosker
Toehold in Europe
Book 5 in the
Combined Operations Series
By
Griff Hosker
Published by Sword Books Ltd 2016
Copyright © Griff Hosker First Edition
The author has asserted their moral right under the Copyright, Designs, and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.
All Rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, copied, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written consent of the copyright holder, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
Cover by Design for Writers
Dedicated to my little sister, Barb, and in memory of my dad who served in Combined Operations from 1941-1945
Prologue
January 1943
We had been on the island of Malta since the Torch landings in North Africa. With the Americans now in the war we had almost driven the Germans and Italian from Africa. Malta was now safer and meant we had a shorter journey for our raids. Lieutenant Ferguson, our new liaison officer, had been shipped over from Gibraltar and was now at our new base. We were not on the main island but the northern island of Ghawdex. Officially we were in the port of Marsalaforn but we had found an uninhabited bay just north of Marsalaforn called Qbajjar Bay. As soon as we had found it we had moved there. Sergeant Poulson and Petty Officer Bill Leslie had managed to erect shelters which would be invisible from the air and we didn't mind roughing it. We were Commandos! Lieutenant Ferguson found it hard to adjust, at first, and then he acquired two generators and became as happy as a sand boy! We were a community who lived apart. We could train and practise our skills unobserved using the nearby army base as our Quarter Master.
Major Fleming, our new and thankfully distant commanding officer, knew nothing about the move. As far as he was concerned we were in the port of Marsalaforn. What he didn't know would not hurt us. We chose our new base as we were free from the attentions of the German and Italian air forces. They came each day from Sicily and bombed anything which looked military and anything else which took their fancy. From the air we were invisible. We knew this as the Captain of our captured E-Boat, Lieutenant Alan Jorgenson, had managed to wangle a flight on a Lysander and he had flown over our bay. He saw nothing and he knew what he was looking for. The pilot who took him in was known to us as he was part of Major Fleming's network. He took agents into Sicily and Italy and picked them up. He was happy to have a peaceful mission for once. Our work was dangerous enough but his was positively suicidal.
We had been allowed a few weeks to recover from our operation in North Africa but, as the new year arrived, so did the orders. Our little clandestine unit was rejoining the war. The quiet days of just training were ending and we were given our first orders.
Part 1
Malta
Chapter 1
The main problem with our new base was supplies. We had become adept at scavenging. I suspect some might have called it stealing. The problem with the army was that they liked to hoard things which they would never use. Every time 'Lady Luck' went to Valetta for the supplies we could not get in Marsalaforn Bill Hay or Polly Poulson would accompany the ship and liberate that which the Army did not keep a close watch on. Thankfully we had no problem with ammunition since the Americans had joined the war. .45 ammunition was plentiful now.
We three Lieutenants had taken to eating breakfast together in or outside Lieutenant Hugo Ferguson's hut. As he rarely left out new base it was the best apportioned. Alan slept on 'Lady Luck' and, more often than not, I slept in the open. Hugo flourished a piece of paper as we entered. He was eating a slightly burnt slice of toast. "Orders! From the Major!" We were both showered in toast crumbs.
Alan rolled his eyes and lit another cheroot. I smiled, it was Hugo's way. He was like an enthusiastic schoolboy. "It was inevitable. I mean we have had almost two months without firing a shot in anger. They couldn't leave us here forever."
Hugo wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, "Quite!" He swallowed a mouthful of tea and continued, "Major Fleming wants us to have a look see at a little place in Sicily; Agrigento."
Alan held up his hand and disappeared. Hugo cocked a quizzical eye. "Maps and charts. You know Alan, he can't think until he has a map in his hand."
The Royal Naval Lieutenant returned clutching maps. Not all were official. Every time we raided anywhere we liberated as many maps as we could. These were annotated and guarded as jealously as any plans for war. He unfolded one and, after peering closely at it for a moment, jabbed a stained finger at it. "There, on the south coast. I reckon about a hundred miles from here." He looked at Hugo expectantly.
"Right! That looks like the place. The Major wants us to go over and assess the defences there."
"Invasion!" Alan was right. It was obvious to all of us that with North Africa almost secure they would soon be looking to getting a toe hold in Europe and Sicily was a prime candidate. "I hope the Major realises that they do have aeroplanes which can do reconnaissance!"
"I believe he does, dear boy, but the problem with an aeroplane is that the Eyeties and Jerry know that we are up to something. Besides I think that they are still needed to either protect Malta or to finish off Jerry in the desert. I think the little Major likes the fact that we are invisible."
I smiled at his use of 'we'. He felt part of the team even though he never left the safety of the base. He had not been our liaison for long but he was as much part of the unit as any of us. "We will have to play the German card, Alan. We can repaint another number on the side and use those German caps we took last time."
"I suppose. The problem is, Tom, that if you and your lads get stuck there is no British army unit close by. If you are left there you are on your own."
"I know. But we are Commandos after all. Right then, Hugo, is it just this Agrigento we are looking at?"
Hugo smiled, "The Major would like you to assess as much of the coastline for defences as possible."
I laughed, "And that is verbatim eh? It sounds just like Major Fleming." I turned to Alan. "What time do we leave?"
"We will have to leave in daylight. It is a hundred miles to Sicily. I am guessing that Valetta will have no idea what we are up to?" He meant did our friends in the navy and the air force know what we were up to. If they did there would be no problem.
Hugo grinned, "Of course not."
"That means the white ensign until dark and then the swastika. Right I will go and plot the course."
"And I will sort my lads out."
We were Commandos and we were never idle. Sergeant Poulson and Corporal Hay had the men practising cliff climbs on the nearby rocky walls which towered over the bay. I stood and watched. They were not the highest cliffs and probably did not need ropes. It was the technique which was important. We had to know how to work as a team. My non commissioned officers were ensuring that even the least experienced had the opportunity to take command on the short climb. Who knew when the officers and sergeants might be incapacitated?
"Right lads, over here! We have orders."
There were grins and smiles all around.
"Thank the Lord for that!"
"I am fed up of training!"
Polly Poulson shouted, "Shut it! You sound like a bunch of raw recruits!"
They squatted down around me. "Smoke if you like."
As they lit up and I looked ar
ound their faces I knew that I had been extremely lucky. There were bad apples in all walks of life but I appeared to have none in my section. I would trust any one of them with my life. Come to think of it I had!
"We are going over to Sicily for a look see at a little place on the south coast called Agrigento. Now this means we will be in enemy territory and behind enemy lines. Nothing new there I know. The difference here is that they speak Italian and we don't. We are going to have to learn about Sicily and the Sicilians. We will be going in under German colours and the deck crew will have German uniforms. Our job is to test the defences. I intend to operate in three groups. That way we can cover more ground but it also increases our chances of getting caught. You lads know the rules, if you get left behind you are on your own. We don't come back for you."
They nodded and Bill Hay said, "Sir, remember that Hitler order we saw. If we get left behind and caught then we will be shot."
George Lowe tapped out his pipe, "Then make sure you don't get caught. I thought Hitler was daft before but now..." he shook his head, "he's not a full shilling. No Commando is going to surrender now and it takes a lot to kill a Commando. He will just lose more men trying to take us."
George spoke for all of us. We would try to escape but if that failed then we would take as many Germans or Italians as we could.
"Good! That is the spirit. Lieutenant Jorgenson is working out the route." I looked at my watch. "If he has enough fuel then I think he might choose to go later on this afternoon if not it will be tomorrow. Either way you know what to do. Scouse, check the radio. Bill, George make up some charges. Sergeant do a Bergen check in an hour."
There was a chorus of 'Sirs!" and the whole section disappeared.
Once in my hut I grabbed my own Bergen and emptied it on to my camp bed. It was always better to pack and check each item as it was stored. I put in my wire cutters, toggle rope and cosh first. Then I put in my camouflage net. We all had them and they were cut down from larger sheets. I coiled some parachute cord. It was tough and it was light. I put in some C rations. They were the one thing we all packed that we hoped we would not need. If we had to open them it meant we were stuck behind the lines. I put in shoe polish; who knew if we might need to black up. I put in my binoculars. I took the silencer for the Colt and put it in one of the side pockets. Then I began to pack the ammunition I would need. There were five spare magazines for the Thomson and three for the Colt. I had managed to acquire six for the Luger but I was always on the lookout for more. I had six Mills bombs and one German potato masher. That done I laid the bag to one side. Sergeant Poulson would check mine along with the others.
I laid my weapons out on the bed. A Thompson, a Colt, a Luger and a Commando dagger. I stripped down and cleaned the three guns and then reassembled them. I had managed to get a holster for the Luger and I put both pistols in their holsters and secured them. I laid the Thompson on the Bergen.
I turned my attention to my battledress. I emptied everything from the pockets and then chose what I would put back in. I had a lighter, even though I did not smoke. I also took matches and a flint. I had a compass. I put in my penknife. I took my notebook and tore out all the pages with writing on them and then replaced the notebook and pencil in my battledress. All the other items which lay on my bed I put in my chest. We took nothing which might give us away. I knew that all my men would do the same thing.
Sergeant Poulson appeared in the entrance to the hut. Doorway was too grand a word for a curtain. I stood, "Carry on Sergeant. I'll go and see navy!"
The E-Boat was a hive of activity. "Come on lads, get those drums of fuel emptied."
The Engineer, Jock Campbell, was calmly standing, cigarette dangling from his mouth, as the huge fuel tanks were filled. I admired the Chief. During action he was in the bowels of the ship and if anything happened he would know nothing. There would be no escape for him. Yet he was always there no matter how fierce the gun battle above him.
Petty Officer Leslie shouted, "Are you looking for the Skipper, sir?" I nodded, "Bridge."
I went up to the bridge. I could have found him by following the smell of his cheroot! He was poring over a map.
"Our Major Fleming has a sense of humour Tom. This Agrigento is less than twenty miles from an Italian Naval base at Licata. I will bet a month's pay that there are more anti aircraft guns there than you can shake a stick at! If that is your idea of fun! That will be why we are being sent in. The RAF probably can't get close enough for decent photographs. It will be down to you poor sods and boots on the ground."
"If the RAF could do anything, believe me, they would."
"Sorry, chum. I keep forgetting that your dad is a big wig in Whitehall!"
I ignored the jibe. "So when do we go?"
"We have enough fuel and ammo. I reckon if we leave at four and dawdle our way across we should be at the coast just after dark and then you and your lads can get ashore."
I nodded, "I am landing as three separate groups. That way we can cover more ground."
"Listen, Tom. We will be doing more of this I can tell. Just get in like Flynn eh? We are just putting our toe in the water so to speak. We need to find our way around the coast. This time the Italians are not fighting for Il Duce's African Empire, this is their back yard. They will be more territorial."
"There is no point in leaving a job half done though is there? Fleming will only send us back in."
Alan threw the stub of his cheroot to hiss into the blue waters. "You are right! I hate that about you!" He laughed, "Are your lads ready?"
"We could board now."
He nodded, "Sixteen hundred hours we push off. Better get some hot food if you can." He handed me my copy of the map and some blank paper. "If you are splitting up you have best give them maps. I have marked the pickup point and reserve pickup points on the map.
As I passed Bill Leslie I said, "Will you be at the wheel tonight?"
"Reckon so sir. Skipper and me have an understanding."
"Good. I always feel better knowing that I have a mate at the wheel." He grinned. We had known each other back in the day when I had been a sergeant and he had been an able seaman.
I jumped into the water and waded back to the beach. The section were taking it easy. They knew that we might well go hours without sleep. "Three hours until we push off. Better get some food if you can."
Ken Shepherd jumped up. The scar from his recent brush with death was still vivid above his eye, "I'll check the lines then eh Sarge? A bit of fresh fish will go down a treat!"
Sergeant 'Polly' Poulson said, "Emerson, Fletcher, go and give him a hand. Scouse, stop fiddling with that radio we both know it works. Get a fire going. Give him a hand, Crowe."
I smiled. Scouse was an old hand now. He had been pretending that he needed to work on the radio to avoid another job. Sergeant Poulson was an even older hand. We had made a circle of some driftwood logs and I sat there with my sergeants and corporal while our men did their assigned tasks.
"Sergeant Poulson you take Shepherd and Hewitt with you. George you take Emerson and Crowe with you. Corporal Hay I will take you and Scouse. We could really do with another couple of men if we are going to be doing much of this. Still we should manage eh?" They nodded. I laid my map out. "Here is the landing site. Poulson you go along the coast, west, George take the east. Bill, we will go through the town. It doesn't look that big. The two pick up points are in red. Red One and Red Two. If you don't make Red One then head for Red Two. You had better copy the maps. Bill, make a copy for us. We will leave the original here."
We had learned to make our own maps because it gave less information to the enemy if we were captured. We had not lost a map yet but Bill and I had been captured in North Africa and I had been glad that we had nothing with us which the Germans could use. I watched as our three erstwhile fishermen returned with their catch. We left rods out with lines and bait. The results were erratic. Sometimes we caught nothing and at others, like now, we had six fish. We ha
d no idea of their names but beggars could not be choosers. They would be gutted and cooked by the three fishermen. We could all cook. It was a vital skill for men who had to live on their wits and that was what a Commando did. The rest of the army had a cookhouse. We had ourselves. We preferred it that way.
The maps were ready at about the same time as the fish. Another reason we had chosen this secluded cove was that we could make our own rules up. Here there was no officer and other ranks; we all messed together. When we had finished we all washed out our own dixies and cleared away our own rubbish. We were a team.
The only problem we had with our new home was the lack of a jetty. We had to wade out to the E-Boat and climb up scrambling nets hung along the hull. It was a small price to pay for the security of knowing that we were invisible. Hugo waded out too, "Good luck, chaps."
Alan pointed a finger at him, "Do not tell the little general that we have left tonight. Tell him we leave tomorrow!"
Hugo laughed, "Of course!"
My men disappeared below decks as we headed north west. We flew the White Ensign but, once it was dark, we would become an E-Boat again. We stored out Bergens in the mess. I saw Bill Leslie. He was in the Petty Officer's mess and he was pouring rum from his tin mug over what looked to be a piece of wood.
"What on earth are you doing?"
He put a finger to his lips. "Breaking King's Regulations, so keep stuhm eh sir? We aren't supposed to save any of our daily rum ration but I pour half a tot on this bar of baccy. It soaks in and keeps it fresh. It also makes a nice rum flavoured pipe full." We had a choice of bar tobacco or cigarettes if we smoked. Bill was a pipe smoker.
"Very resourceful. I will keep quiet although I doubt that you would be reprimanded by the lieutenant."
He shook his head, "I lost a stripe once. I am not risking it again." He ran his finger around the inside of the mug, licked it and then returned the bar of tobacco to his pouch. "I'd best be on deck. Captain will want me soon."