by Griff Hosker
It was my turn to laugh, "I told you, we are Commandos. We have a plan!"
The mess president insisted on buying me a drink. I had but the one. They had far more. As I listened to them I realised that they fought a different war. It was remote. Even Dad had been closer to the action and to danger in the Great War. He had been less than a hundred miles from the enemy. They faced a perilous existence. These men could be shot down and suffer a fiery death but generally they slept soundly and safely in their beds. When they dropped their paratroopers in Sicily it would be totally different from the airborne troops who would be subject to the wind, the elements and the terrain not to mention Germans and Italians trying to kill them. We all fought our own wars but we fought for the same cause.
I slipped quietly out of the mess and headed for the hangar. I needed my sleep. I was the first back. My men were taking advantage of the beer in the mess. I knew them well enough to know that they would all be ready the next day. The double whisky I had consumed sent me directly to sleep.
I rose early and breakfasted in the mess before heading for the operations room to find out about the weather. I was pleased to see that Flight Lieutenant Cross was there too and he was bright eyed. He had not drunk too much. "Morning sir. The weather looks to be about the same. Little chance of rain and the wind isn't too strong."
"Cloud cover?"
"That could be tricky, sir. We might have to come in under three thousand feet. Is that okay with your chaps?"
"They can manage. Better a lower drop than a blind one. Is your navigator good?"
"Oh yes sir, Bob is the best. We will get you there, don't you worry about that." He looked concerned. "I just hope you can get out."
"We will manage but thank you for your concern."
I spent some time talking to the meteorological officer. It was not that I didn't trust Flight Lieutenant Cross but I had done this before and there were questions I might ask which he would not. Satisfied I went to the hangar where tables were already being laid out by WAAFs and Ercs. They would be for the parachutes. In ones and twos my men wandered over from the mess. By the time we had all returned the parachutes and their packs were laid out already. The Ercs disappeared leaving the WAAFS under the command of a stern face female Warrant Officer.
I wandered over to her and she saluted, "Warrant Officer First Class Lindsey. My ladies are ready to pack your parachutes, Lieutenant Harsker."
"Thank you but some of my men may well wish to do it themselves."
She looked offended, "My girls are very good at this, sir!"
"They may well be but I for one will pack my own. I have seen too many Roman Candles to worry about offending a Warrant Officer." I turned and shouted, "The parachutes are ready. The WAAFs are happy to pack them for you."
As I had expected my men all chose to pack their own. The WAAFS, with the exception of their officer were not offended and they chatted and flirted with my men as they packed their chutes. It meant less work for them. I took my time folding and packing my chutes; main and reserve. I made sure that they were secure before writing my name with a chinograph pencil on the pack. We all wanted the parachute we had packed. By the time it was finished and the chutes laid neatly in order I went to see about the weather conditions.
The met officer said, "Sorry sir but the cloud cover will be two thousand eight hundred feet. The C-47 will have to drop you at two and a half thousand feet. If the cloud gets any lower than this then the mission will be scrubbed. We can't have them flying too low."
"Quite. I will return to my men. Keep me informed."
I let the men have lunch before I gave them the final briefing. I wanted to leave it as late as possible. "Right chaps, we have a lower drop than normal. We drop at two and half thousand feet and the deck is a thousand feet. On the positive side it should be easier to keep together but we will have to be aware of the ground coming to meet us a little more quickly than is normal. Sergeant Barker you will be tail end Charlie. Sergeant Poulson and Lance Sergeant Hay you will be number six and number four respectively. I want no hanging around in the door. The stick is twelve men. Remember that." I looked around and they all nodded. "Get some rest. We eat at five and I want us in the bus by seven booted and chuted!" They all laughed. "Now get some rest. Sergeant Poulson, equipment check at six."
"Sir."
Flight Lieutenant Cross and myself waited anxiously in the operations room watching the weather. A chain smoking met officer finally came over at four in the afternoon and said, "You are good to go but cloud cover is two seven."
I nodded, "That is fine for my lads. How about you, Flight Lieutenant Cross, are you happy with the tolerances?"
"Pongo Race is the best navigator in the air force. We will get you there, sir!"
As I went back to my men I remembered a confident Hampden crew who had dropped us at St. Nazaire and then plummeted to a fiery end. I hoped the affable young officer and his crew would not suffer the same grisly fate.
It was almost pleasant seated in the back of the Dakota. There was no overwhelming smell of fuel and it did not feel claustrophobic. We sat in order in the aircraft. I had Davis opposite and Beaumont next to me. They were the least experienced jumpers and Bill Hay was ready to give them a shove if they needed it. We sat with knees apart cradling our hooks. This would be a short flight. Flight Lieutenant Cross had told me that it took nine and a half minutes to reach ten thousand feet. We would not need half of that. The plan was to head north east and come from the east. There would be anti aircraft, we knew that but, hopefully, the low cloud would prevent fighters from being scrambled.
The take off was almost silent compared with the Hampden and the huge Pratt and Whitney engines sounded reassuringly powerful. I smiled as I saw those who were not happy fliers as they unclenched their fists or replaced their good luck charms. I had been brought up in aeroplanes and I never feared them; I respected them and would not take risks with them but they were a tool. They were like the Thompson I carried.
The Bergen was heavy. We wore them on our fronts as we had chutes on our backs. Fortunately we would not have far to travel once we landed; if the winds did not carry us too far off our course. There were no power lines to worry us and the trees were few and far between. The danger lay in the rocks. You could not predict where a rock might lie; especially in the dark. We were all silent in the aircraft. I was running through the plan and imagining what might go wrong. Those who had done this before would be going through their part in the operation and the new ones would be just wondering what it was like.
The shelling, when we crossed the coast, was sporadic. I doubted that they would bother wasting ammunition on a single aircraft. They probably thought that we were lost.
Flight Sergeant Williams came from the flight deck, "We are ten minutes out. If you would care to hook up."
"Right, Flight. Stand!" As one we stood. "Hook up, One!"
"Two."
"Three."
"Four."
"Five."
"Six."
"Seven."
"Eight."
"Ten."
There was a smack, "Smith you are a half wit! Did you never learn to count?"
"Sorry Sergeant Barker."
"Corporal Hewitt."
"Nine."
"Ten."
"Eleven."
"Twelve. All hooked up, sir!"
"Check chutes."
Private Davis checked mine and then the others were all checked. Scouse Fletcher, number eleven would check Gordy's. It was his voice which carried down the fuselage. "All chutes checked, sir. We are good to go!"
Flight Sergeant Williams came down, gave me the thumbs up and I said, "Bunch up!" He reached the door and plugged his headset into a socket next to the door.
He waited and then said, "Roger."
He opened the door and we heard no more. There was just a rushing and roaring from the wind. It was incredibly noisy. He placed the door to one side and gestured for me to get closer. I
stood in the doorway. Davis was doing the right thing. He was as close to me as my parachute. I stared down at the black ground racing below me. I did not look at the Flight Sergeant he would tap me on the shoulder and then push me off if I hesitated. There was no rank in a stick of paratroopers! I caught occasional glimpses of lights below and then there was a tap on my shoulder. I leapt.
The slipstream and the speed of the Dakota took me well below the tail plane. There was a jerk as the release mechanism opened the chute. My hands went up automatically to feel for the cords. Then there was a second jerk and I looked up to see the billowing parachute I had packed less than twelve hours earlier. I took a quick glance astern and saw line of parachutes. I then shifted my attention to the ground. We did not have long before we hit the ground and the others would all follow me. I was looking for a grey snake that was the road. I twisted around until I saw it. It was behind me. I pulled on one set of cords and I began to spiral and to turn. Then I grabbed the cord with my other hand and began to aim to land sideways on a slight upslope. If I landed downhill I might not be able to stop. The ground was coming towards me rapidly. I braced myself and pulled up my feet ready to use my knees to take the impact. At the last minute I saw a rock and turned to the right. My feet touched the ground and I began to run. As my chute came over my head I stopped and began to collect the parachute.
I heard a cry from behind me. Davis had not managed to miss the rock I had spotted and his chute was dragging his body across the ground. I took out my dagger and slashed the cords on my chute. I would have to gather it later for Davis was in danger of being swept off the side of the mountain. I ran after him and managed to grab his chute. I pulled it towards me. He looked up at me. His face showed his pain. "Sorry sir. It's me ankle. I think it is broken."
I cut his cords and said, "You stay there. Here, roll your chute up while I find Doc."
I wanted him occupied. Rolling up his chute would keep his mind from the pain. I hurried towards the others. The second man down and he was hurt. The operation was not going well. Beaumont had rolled up my chute for me.
"Good man. Go and stand guard over Davis. He has broken a leg or an ankle."
I saw that the rest, although spread out, had all landed intact. I hurried towards Hewitt. "Corporal, Davis has broken something."
"Sir." He hurried past me.
Sergeant Poulson and Lance Sergeant Hay joined me. "Davis has broken a leg or an ankle. Unless we find a vehicle we are in trouble."
"Are we in the right area, sir?"
"I thinks so. The road is ahead and the mountain is there. I have left Hewitt with Davis. He will have to stay with Davis and that will leave Fletcher and Crowe with me. I'll find the best site for the demolitions." I looked at my watch. It was nine thirty. Time was wasting.
Fletcher and Crowe appeared at my side. I waved them left and right and headed to the west where I had glimpsed the road as we were landing. The ground was rough and I could see why Davis had hurt himself. He hadn't had enough practice at landing, especially in the dark. That was my fault. I would make sure that they were all checked out next time.
Scouse was the best scout I had. He could move silently and he did not seem to need to look where he put his feet. As we crested a rise we saw the road. The hair pin was just fifty yards from where we were. "Crowe, go back and tell the others we have found the road. Bring Davis!"
"Sir."
Scouse and I clambered down the side of the hill. It was almost a cliff. I saw that, in places, they had reinforced it with steel gabions packed with ballast. We could use that to our advantage. If we put charges in the gabions and then cut the steel we could direct the charge. Once on the road I took out the map. Scouse placed his body next to mine to shield the light and we turned on the torch. I knew exactly where we were. I looked to the north west and saw the outline of Comiso a mile away. We were far enough away from the enemy to talk. "Scouse, follow the road around. There should be another hairpin about three quarters of a mile down the road. Scout it out."
"Sir."
The others arrived above us. Leaving Hewitt and Davis at the top they scrambled down. "Gordy, take Fred and get to Comiso. It is over there."
He nodded, "Sorry about Davis, sir." He was his man and felt responsible.
"It was an accident. These things happen."
"Sir. "Right Emerson, let's go."
I pointed to the gabions. "I reckon charges up there should bring down half the mountain but you lads are the experts. I thought we could cut some of the steel and use that to direct the avalanche."
Hay and Shepherd nodded. "Perfect."
I took out the map and said to Crowe. "The road twists and turns. Climb back up and help Hewitt take Davis here." I pointed to a bend in the road. If we get a vehicle we will join you there. If not then we will all be walking."
"Sir."
"Sergeant Poulson, come with me. Your team can have a go at the next hairpin."
Already I saw the two teams snipping the steel hawsers and wires. We hurried down the road. Scouse whistled as we approached. "Here sir. I have seen nowt. The Sarge and Freddie Boy headed up the road."
"Take point up there." I turned and looked at the slope above us. This was too sheer to climb and there were no gabions. I turned to Beaumont. "Right Roger. It is time for you to earn your pay."
He looked up at the wall of stone. "There are natural fissures up there, sir. They are natural lines of weakness. We place bigger charges in the bottom and smaller ones higher up."
Sergeant Poulson said, "Smith, according to your sergeant you are like a monkey! You take the fissures up there."
"Right Sarge."
Beaumont said, "Here are two charges and two timers. Make sure that they are secure. I have set the timers already. Get as high as you can and then put the second in a third of the way down." He handed him the two bundles. Smith took off his Bergen and laid his Tommy gun down. He jammed the two devices in his battledress. I watched him climb. He was careful but he moved up the wall like a spider.
While Sergeant Poulson and Beaumont unpacked the rest of the demolitions I ran around to Scouse. "How is it?"
"Quiet as the grave, sir." He pointed to Comiso, a mile away. "I have seen a couple of lights come on and then go off but I haven't heard anything."
"That is good news. Hopefully you will hear the Sergeant and the vehicle soon."
I checked my watch again. It was gone ten thirty. My two car thieves would have reached Comiso. I went back to check on the progress of the others. Smith was half way down the cliff helping Sergeant Poulson place more charges.
Private Beaumont was ferreting away at the bottom. He had found a tiny cave. It would have been big enough for a large Alsatian. He had just finishing packing the explosives in the hole and was now making a wall of stones at the entrance. "This will force the explosion upwards." He pointed to a fissure just twenty feet up the cliff. "I am hoping it triggers that one."
"How much time do you need?"
"Five minutes, no more."
I went back to wait with Scouse. As I walked I couldn't help thinking that we could have set the charges and double timed it back to the boat. It was only eleven fifteen and we had finished. But and it was a big but, we now had a wounded man and that meant we had to have a vehicle. Our plans were now in jeopardy. Scouse was well hidden. His head popped up from behind the parapet at the corner of the hairpin.
"Anything?"
He shook his head, "I thought I heard an engine but it was my imagination."
We watched the minutes tick by. It was frustrating. I knew that the Sergeant and Emerson would not be wasting time but it was irritating to have to wait when the charges were all set. It was eleven forty five when we heard the sound of the truck as it left Comiso. It was noisy. If there was a curfew then we were in trouble. I assumed it was Gordy and Fred. "I will go and warn the others. Jump on board when they reach you."
I ran to the next bend and Sergeant Poulson and his team were waiti
ng. "I think they are on their way. Smith, pop up the road and tell the others. Best be ready."
As he ran off Sergeant Poulson said, "If Davis hadn't hurt his leg this would have been a perfect operation."
"Don't say that, Sergeant, we aren't on the 'Lady' yet!" We had about three hours before the charges went off. By then I hoped we would be at the coast. The truck chugged slowly up the hairpin. We waited on a flat part. Emerson would have a hard enough job driving it without trying to go up a steep gradient. When I saw the truck my heart sank. It was an Italian army truck. Firstly they were unreliable and secondly it would attract attention.
I cocked a head at Gordy in the cab. "An army truck?"
"It was all we could get. We have two dead Eyeties to get rid of too."
"Will they be missed?"
"Hard to say. They were driving out of Comiso and we jumped them when they stopped at a quiet intersection. It depends if they were meeting someone."
"When we put Davis in the back we will get rid of the bodies and lay a few booby traps."
I climbed in the back. It could not be helped and, at least, we had a vehicle but soldiers and an army truck were more likely to be missed than civilians. We stopped at Lance Sergeant Hay's party and they climbed in. "Everything set?"
"Has been for some time sir. I almost wish we could watch it go up. This will be spectacular." He suddenly noticed the two bodies. "Do we have company?"
"We will get rid of them when we pick up Doc and Davis."
We drove further than I had anticipated and I jumped down when we did so. "Get the bodies out. Sergeant Poulson, rig some booby traps. You three come and help us get Davis on board." I walked over to where my three men waited. "How is he Doc?"
"Broken ankle. A leg or an arm I can set but an ankle?" He shook his head. "There are too many bones. Stevie Johnson on the 'Lady' might be able to do something. I gave him some pills to knock him out. "
We carefully lifted him in the back of the vehicle and laid Bergens around him to cushion his legs. I looked at my watch and it was one o'clock. We had plenty of time but I wanted us down the mountain sooner rather than later. We laid the Italian bodies at the side of the road and booby trapped them with German grenades.