At the end of March they moved north just twenty-five miles and then on the 16 of April they moved up to Metz towards the Maginot Line. There were in fact four lines and troops were rotated on a regular basis between the front line of enemy contact and the subsequent three lines of support. However real contact with the Germans was minimal. Some enemy night time patrols came to harass the forward entrenchments but there were not many injuries and the main effect was to keep our patrols awake all night.
Ian’s battalion moved up to the line of contact on the 3 of May and stayed for six days. The week before they had been issued ammunition and ordered to load for the first time. They were now right up at the German border near Grossenwald and the surrounding countryside was beautiful, rolling fields and flourishing beech woods, springtime blossom and nightingales singing. Nature continued its cycle oblivious to the noisy frenetic manoeuvres of man at war. All the villages had been evacuated and an eerie sense of peace prevailed despite the occasional rattle of gunfire. On day six the 1 Black Watch moved up to relieve them around the time that the main German push was beginning into Holland. The Argylls moved back to dig in on the rearmost line of defence, the Ligne d’Arret, when they had been hoping for a few days rest. The formal structure of this line had never been established effectively so trenches had to be dug with each move of position.
Then on the 14 of May, the day after Holland collapsed, the battalion moved forward again this time to the second line. There followed two weeks of moving forward then back, frequent digging, occasional shelling, lots of nights without sleep, infrequent meals and a general feeling of confusion and uncertainty. They remained unaware of the total collapse of the British Expeditionary Force and its hasty withdrawal at Dunkirk. Neither did they know that the German army had punched through the Belgian lines of defence and were now solidly into France although there were whispers of them pushing north in attack mode supposedly to penetrate the German corridor around Dunkirk.
They marched forward and waited two nights. This forward push was abandoned and they learned that instead they were going on a circuitous route round Paris to come up in the west at the Somme. The whole operation seemed to be breaking up in confusion. This was confirmed when their rail journey around Paris took two days. A bombed ammunition train was blocking railway lines south of Paris. German planes were reaching well into French territory and causing extensive disruption. Eventually they arrived at Rouen, not so far from where they had started in February. In these four months they had done lots of soldiering but not seen much of the fighting. However the constant moving and obvious lack of coherent orders coupled with the lack of sleep and food were beginning to wear down not just this battalion but the whole of the 51 Division.
Unbeknown even to the senior officers they had become a pawn in Churchill’s game of “keep the war alive”. The Germans had stopped short of Dunkirk allowing Gort the British commander to make his famous evacuation. The French high command were indicating that they were not prepared to enter a protracted battle around Paris. Yet the British high command brought the 51 Division into a defensive formation in support of a line that the French were unlikely to defend with any vigour. Why was this done? This has been the subject of controversy ever since but for the lads from Argyll it was just another bit of battle blunder.
By the time they reached Rouen everybody was desperately hungry but they had to stay on the train awaiting orders. They sequestered the contents of a wagon of rations that had become stuck in a nearby railway siding, cheese, bully-beef and biscuits. Had they known what lay ahead they might have stuffed a few cheeses in their kitbags. In the afternoon they eventually got off the train and marched a few miles to where a convoy of buses was waiting to take them to Breuilly on the river Bresle. Next day they marched in the direction of the Somme taking up positions a few miles south of the town of St. Valery-sur-somme. Both at St. Valery and to the southeast at Abbeville the German advance had established bridgeheads.
At Abbeville the regular more experienced battalions were preparing for an attack on the German forward positions. On the 28, just a few days before, General Charles de Gaulle had mustered an attempt with the French 4 Armoured Division and despite initial success had not dislodged the German bridgehead. On the 3 of June it was to be the turn of the Highlanders. However the co-ordination between British and French commands was sluggish and the attack was postponed to the 4. On this same day Churchill stood before Parliament and delivered his ever-famous speech “We will fight them on the beaches….”
14. ROSES OF PICARDIE
Friville-Escarbotin-Belloy, June 1940
This is Picardie and the roses are shining just like in the song, wild yellow roses in large bushes by the roadside. A kestrel is hovering, its wings flickering gently as it prepares to pounce on its prey in the field below. Some cows graze peacefully with a backdrop of a wooded copse behind which nestles the Chateau of Belloy. About a mile to the northwest on the road to St. Blimont is the public cemetery. If you look carefully you will find in the far end of this cemetery a neatly tended row of light grey headstones, ten in number, all matching. On seven of these stones you will find a Scottish name and underneath “8 Battalion, Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders”. The remaining three carry the inscription, “Known only unto God”. We know the names: we just have to guess which is which. All died in June 1940.
If you have time or indeed the desire to wander in the villages of St. Blimont, Pende, Bailly-en-Riviere, Cayeux-sur-mer, Veulerres-sur-mer, St. Ever, St. Riquier, St. Valery-sur-Somme, Lancheres, Inchville, Escoublac, Grandcourt and St. Hilaire, here you will find in total thirty more 8th Argylls. At Dunkirk you will find ten more, strange you may think, because in life they were never near Dunkirk. Between the 5 of June and the 7 of June 1940 there were fifty 8 Argylls who fell in Picardie.
The battalion, as already seen, was thrown together hastily. The seams were sewn with tacking stitches; just a few experienced soldiers borrowed from other battalions or other regiments to hold together the platoons. The officers, while highly motivated, lacked experience in tactics and in leadership under pressure. And so when the decision was made to attack the German bridgehead at Abbeville the 8 Argylls were well back from the front line. Colonel Grant wanted to attack the bridgehead at St. Valery but this was turned down in order to concentrate minds and wills on Abbeville.
In spearhead position were the 1 Gordons. Kenny MacKenzie was about to have his taste of “real soldiering”. Behind and on the flanks were 2 and 4 Seaforths, 5 Gordons, and 4 Camerons. This in essence was 153 Brigade and at their backs they had five battalions of artillery and two machine-gun battalions. Air support was piecemeal and without radio contact. Back between the Somme and the Bresle was 154 Brigade, which included 8 Argylls, straggled from the coast to near Amiens, trying to hold a defence line that required five times the numbers that they had.
Here, the elite of Britain’s best division was readying for battle in a bid to stop the Nazi march across Europe. They didn’t know they were just pawns in a game. They didn’t know that, no-matter how hard they fought, they would never win. Rommel and friends had stopped for a rest after encircling Dunkirk. They let more than three hundred thousand troops go home. They were saving their strength and fire power for the push south to take Paris from the western side.
So on the morning of 4 June as the 51 Division were set for their punitive punch at Abbeville the German offensive moved into top gear with “Fall Rot”, Operation Red.
Unaware of the massive build up of enemy forces, at 3.20 a.m. on the 4 the British assault began under the command of General Fortune. They pounded the German positions with all available artillery and as morning broke the infantry battalions moved forward. They began to take their objectives albeit with incredible losses. Around mid-morning they started to founder as the bravery of the Scottish troops was repeatedly undercut by the bungling incompetence of the French. Supporting tank units arrived late or didn’t arrive at all or in one case
arrived with the wrong calibre ammunition. A French aerial bombardment went astray and bombed B Company of the 4 Camerons. But most critically the French troops that were in support, guarding the flanks of the Highlanders, began to abandon their positions.
By mid-day Fortune knew that the attack had ground to a halt. Hundreds of bodies from both armies lay bloating in the heat of the afternoon sun. A second attempt was planned but soon abandoned. The advance halted and hasty moves were set in motion to reform in defensive positions and begin a retreat to the River Bresle.
That afternoon as Churchill stood proclaiming, “The British Empire and the French Republic, linked together in their common cause, will defend to the death their native soils”, he knew in his heart that these were mute words. So many of the men who fought to the death that day, and in the preceding two weeks, failed to benefit from this “common link”.
On the 5 of June C Company, 8 Argylls were in position around the small town of St. Blimont. One platoon was forward in the small village of Pende and Ian’s platoon under Lt. Bruce Cheape was in a wooded copse near the village of Tilloy just south of St.Valery-sur-Somme. To the north were one hundred and four divisions of the German army. The wings of the eagle fluttered on the flags of the 3 Reich waiting to pounce like the kestrel above the field at Belloy. With their route blocked at Abbeville they rolled south via their bridgehead at St Valery. As this took place the 7 and 8 Argylls who had been held back from the front line the day before, now, suddenly, became the front line.
At Tilloy the lead tanks were not boasting their flags. They edged forward behind a camouflage of poplar branches. Ian Black, with keen sniper’s eye, could see clearly over a mile and spotted the movement. He called to Bruce Cheape nearby.
“Sir. There are tanks moving up from that wood across there.”
“Hah,” Cheape chuckled, “Private Black. You’ve been tasting everything on the shelf of the bar again. How would you know a German tank? You’ve never seen one.”
“I’ve seen a lot of trees, Sir, and they don’t move twenty yards every minute.”
The officer didn’t have time to answer. The cornfields around them began to dance as shells rained in on them. The first formations of advancing infantry started to become visible above the waist-high corn. At this point they still had telephone contact and called in artillery support. Mortar ripped through the advancing columns and Ian shuddered as he watched the tanks roll on over dead and dying soldiers. Suddenly the games were over. This was war. The platoon held ground for a short time picking off the hapless souls who advanced in full line of fire. Then with another burst of support from the big guns they pulled back to St. Blimont. On the right flank, to the east, most of the 7 Argylls became encircled and with rising casualties they surrendered. Over five hundred officers and men killed or taken prisoner. A decision was made to consolidate at the River Bresle. The big guns pulled back and companies A, B and HQ started to reform further south.
A few miles to the north, in the cornfields at Pende, 14 Platoon were fighting German cavalry. They brought down a mounted patrol and took one injured officer prisoner. With a more intensive enemy onslaught they retreated to St. Blimont to the headquarters and the prisoner was passed over to the retreating members of the Battalion.
By afternoon Jimmy Mellor’s Oban men and Bruce Cheape’s Lorne lads had fought and pulled back until they were in the woods and fields in front of the Chateau of Belloy just to the west of the village of Escarbotin. This village was under the guard of D Company 7 Argylls, who despite heavy attacks had still held out. By evening those who hadn’t been killed or captured were falling back leaving the men at Belloy seriously exposed. Between Escarbotin and Belloy, a space of less than two miles, were D Company of the 8 Battalion, the men from Dunoon area. They came under cripplingly heavy fire and they too fell back on Belloy.
War is a strange animal. We tend to see it in abstract: something detached from reality. And yet it superimposes itself on reality. Life must continue in some form. The population of Belloy-Friville-Escarbotin had been evacuated, most needing little persuasion as the guns rumbled closer. And then about half an hour before the real shooting started two civilians appeared knocking on the door of the Chateau Belloy.
“Who are you? What do you want?” asked Captain Inglis with natural suspicion.
“My name is MacKenzie from Kilwinning. I am married to the daughter of the Mayor of Abbeville. We have come to rescue the bible before the Germans get it,” came the implausible response.
Who were these two? What did they really want? Were they German spies?
“What bible?” asked John Inglis “I don’t understand why anyone needs a bible except maybe ourselves at this moment. Please explain yourselves and quickly please.”
“ My name, as I said, is MacKenzie. I have a garage in Abbeville and I am the husband of the Mayor’s daughter. We have come to rescue a bible that is in the Chateau. It’s valuable and important to the people of Abbeville. It’s over a thousand years old from the time of Charlemagne. We don’t want it to be plundered by the Germans. And I am, as I said, from Kilwinning.”
“Tell me some of the lawyers in Kilwinning, then,” demanded Inglis.
MacKenzie thought for a moment, and then named the lawyers of Kilwinning to the satisfaction of Captain Inglis.
“OK you seem to be genuine. Get in quickly and take your bible but hurry it up. There’s going to be a battle soon. I don’t suppose you’d like to join the Argyll’s. We could do with some more men.”
“I did my bit in the last one, Sir. But I wish you well. God be with you.”
“I’d much rather the artillery was with me, but thanks anyway.”
The two men departed with their bible.
The battle intensified around the fields of Belloy.
Around 10 p.m. Captain Inglis had both 14 and 15 platoon at Belloy and also what was left of D Company. A number had been killed and quite a few injured, some had been taken prisoner. Aware of the dangerous position he decided to move south under cover of darkness. The incoming fire had stopped. D Company moved off after eleven o’clock and had only gone a mile or so when they met messenger who brought orders from Col. Grant that they had to stand and hold Belloy at all costs. Although not said in the message the plan was that while the forward line gritted its teeth and held on the rest of the 51 Division could escape southwards and hopefully get away at the port of Le Havre.
All the injured were brought into the cellar of the chateau and each of the men received a couple of spoonfuls of rough soup. The previous day they had eaten just a small portion of stew. They were tired and getting hungry and were probably wishing that they had stashed more of the cheese at Rouen several days ago. Next day the attacks intensified. They were down to less than two hundred fit men spaced out around the chateau about 400 yards from the house. At 7 a.m. the first strong attack came against Ian and friends in 15 Platoon and they retreated through an orchard. As they did so they lost all three of their Bren-gun carriers. One was sent back to the house with the wounded, one foundered on an apple tree and the other was abandoned malfunctioning with most of their ammunition still on board. All day mortar rained in and there were two strong infantry attacks, both repelled with most of the losses on the other side. Just before dark there was more mortar fire and six tanks moved into position around the chateau, then all went quiet.
At seven o’clock on the 7 the mortars began again, heavier than the day before and closing in. One attack of foot soldiers came mid-morning and was fought off. In the afternoon the mortar fire increased with shells pounding the earth around the chateau one every few seconds. No time to think, no time to move, no time to respond and in any case their ammunition was all but finished. The infantry patrols moved in ever closer until it was possible to throw grenades. Ian felt a jab in his right knee; a piece of shrapnel pierced his leg. To the left he saw one of his mates run forward. A mortar shell removed his head but he kept going forward for a few paces as if he had
n’t noticed the loss of his head. Everybody scrambled for the shelter of the chateau as the shells screamed in throwing towers of earth in the air. Now they were down to 150 fit men with little or no ammunition. Outside encircling the house were more than one thousand five hundred.
The order had been to hold Belloy at all cost. Inglis wrestled with his conscience and held council with his junior officers. To fight on would indeed have cost all their lives but in practical terms they could only have held on an hour or so more. Such bloody sacrifice was senseless. It was decided that no useful purpose could be served by continuing. The white flag was put out. Surrender was accepted. The German commander moved up to take command of the chateau. He saluted John Inglis, looked around and said, “Are these all the men you have?”
A burial party was assembled to inter the fourteen dead Argylls around the house. They were buried in the grounds of the chateau and after the war their remains were transferred to public cemeteries. No doubt the lad without a head would be one of those “Known only unto God”. The German casualties, several times more than the Scots, were taken away by their comrades. Ambulance teams were formed and given adequate scope to gather up the fifty or so injured. German transport was provided and they were taken to a field hospital. Ian’s knee was easily treated. An orderly removed the shrapnel and bandaged up the wound.
Meanwhile one of Ian’s drinking pals nearly caused the immediate execution of all the prisoners. Willie Kemp, a wild character from Ballachulish, was one of the burial party. Although everyone thought the ammunition was finished he produced a hand grenade from his pocket. He was set to pull the pin and throw it among the Germans. Bruce Cheape grabbed it from him and threw it instead in the bottom of the open grave.
“Bloody Hell man! You’ll get us all killed,” he snapped at Kemp. With Cheape’s quick thinking and quick action the incident went unnoticed.
Across the Bridge Page 9