Although the U-boats were having such a bad time in their attempts to reach the invasion area that their efforts were expensive failures and they proved to be much less of a menace than had been anticipated, the enemy action against the shipping in the Assault Areas and on the convoy routes leading to those areas was always serious. That it was so consistently defeated was due to good planning on the part of the Allies and the determination with which each new attack was met. The enemy mining campaign caused the greatest anxiety and even forced us to modify our swept channels and cleared areas, but the activities of German surface vessels—chiefly E-boats and R-boats—required unrelenting vigilance on the part of our escorts and patrols and led to a number of most determined short-range night actions.
CHAPTER VII
AGAINST THE E-BOATS
Great work of the Light Coastal Forces—The close blockade of Le Havre—Daring actions under coastal guns—Actions off the Dutch coast—E-boats fail against a convoy.
It was, of course, expected that the enemy would make great use of his E-boats and other small fast surface forces in his attempts to interfere with the build-up of the strength of the Allied invasion armies. This he did, but he was somewhat slow to react with these craft. With the exception of the one somewhat half-hearted attack on our bombarding forces in the Eastern Assault Area by E-boats from Le Havre, there was no real attempt by German naval forces to interfere with the initial stages of the invasion. For this one can be grateful for the high degree of tactical surprise achieved and also to the neutralising effects of our bombing of enemy ports. Nevertheless, it seemed for a few days as if the Germans were putting their whole faith in their mining campaign. Soon, however, the German surface craft began to operate against the Allied flank, and these led to a number of actions in which the officers and men of our small craft greatly distinguished themselves and asserted even more emphatically than before their moral superiority over the German crews.
Most of those actions were fought at very close range at night between vessels with a relative speed when on opposite courses of as much as 80 knots and more. It was a type of warfare calling for individual initiative and the making of split-second decisions. More often than not the actions had to be fought under the guns of the German shore batteries. Frequently there was confusion, by which our men were quick to profit, which left the bewildered Germans firing spiritedly at one another.
Most of the work of guarding against enemy E-boat attacks, and repelling them with loss when they were attempted, fell upon our Light Coastal Forces—motor torpedo-boats, motor gunboats, motor launches and steam gunboats—together with American PT boats. These small fast craft of the British and American navies were formed in Light Coastal Forces Mobile Units—the term “mobile unit” meaning, roughly, that they, were based on thin air and had to fend for themselves in nearly all circumstances. They did, however, operate in conjunction with larger vessels, notably frigates. Those little ships achieved mightily, and in order to attain greater efficiency and increase the discomfiture of the enemy they set back the clock of history by a century. The Germans, with a major base at Le Havre and Cherbourg on either flank of the Allied Assault Area and the vital sea communications to the beachhead, were in an ideal position to attack. They could have emerged from their bases, attacked, and regained shelter long before craft operating from the British shore could have intercepted them. There was one answer to this problem. That was to institute a close blockade of Le Havre and Cherbourg.
It had for long been accepted that the coming of the steam engine and the internal combustion engine and the greater range of shore batteries and detecting devices had made the close blockade of an enemy port an impossibility. The strategists and tacticians had maintained that the watch kept by Nelson off Toulon and Cornwallis off Brest would be the last instances in naval history of a close blockade, except possibly by submarines. The little ships of the Light Coastal Forces would have none of this theory. If the only way of making certain of being able to intercept the enemy was to keep a close blockade of his bases, then a close blockade should be instituted and maintained. The German shore batteries would certainly add to the risk, but that would just have to be accepted.
In fact, our losses proved to be much lighter than had been anticipated. Nelson’s dictum that the boldest course is often the safest was once again proved true.
The enemy, however, suffered severely. On the eastern flank between D-day and the end of June the German lost five and probably six E or R-boats sunk, and seven E or R-boats damaged, three of them badly, while two torpedo boats were also damaged. The cost to the Allies was two boats damaged, with three killed and ten wounded. On the western flank off Cherbourg no less than thirty actions were fought in these twenty-four nights—seven of them off Cape Barfleur in one night, when the weather was such that it made the craft very difficult to handle. One E or R-boat was certainly sunk, and one destroyer or torpedo-boat was hit by torpedo, while a great many craft were damaged. Severe loss was also inflicted upon German convoys trying to escape to the westward from Cherbourg as the American troops advanced up the Cotentin Peninsula. Farther west, in the neighbourhood of the Channel Islands, one German M-class minesweeper, one armed trawler and two coasters were sunk or severely damaged.
With events moving rapidly in the sea war off Hitler’s “Fortress Europe,” a German vessel which was damaged was a loss to the enemy during the critical period, and the German surface craft were subjected to so great an attrition that few vessels survived in a seaworthy and operational state.
Far away to the north-eastward other flotillas of British Light Coastal Craft were imposing losses upon the enemy which was seriously affecting the enemy in the invasion area. With nearly all inland transport paralysed by the Allied bombing offensive, the enemy tried to run supplies and reinforcements westward by sea. More often than not these were intercepted by our patrols off the Dutch coast and heavy losses inflicted upon them. The impact of this offensive upon the invasion of Normandy began some time before D-day. During May and June there were thirteen nights of weather so bad that it was impossible for our patrols of small craft to operate off the Dutch coast. During the remaining nights, however, they levied a very heavy toll. Eight armed trawlers, a tug and a gunboat were definitely sunk by torpedoes and another armed trawler and a tank landing craft were possibly sunk. Five more armed trawlers and another tank landing craft were damaged by gunfire.
The night of 9 June proved a profitable one for our little ships in both areas. Off the Dutch coast one of our motor torpedo-boat patrols under the command of Lieutenant-Commander K. Gemmell, DSC, RNVR, found four big German armed trawlers southwest of Ijmuiden. Three of these were sunk by torpedoes and the fourth was badly hit by gunfire and was last seen making for the shore in a seriously damaged condition. Later the same night this British patrol encountered three more German armed trawlers and sank one of these. The night’s work cost us one motor torpedo-boat sunk, but there were only two casualties. On the same night in the western flank of the Assault Area a patrol of light coastal forces under the command of Lieutenant J. Collins, RNVR, fought a number of brief actions with German E-boats. These were in the main inconclusive, but damage was certainly inflicted on the enemy, while our forces suffered no damage or casualties.
Next night it was the turn of the steam gunboats on the western flank. It was fifty-two minutes after midnight when a frigate spoke to the gunboats: “There is something to the eastward of you. I don’t know what it is. Have a look.” The gunboats went off in chase and they sighted something which they had difficulty in identifying. It was not until they had closed the range to a thousand yards that the enemy was illuminated by star shell and seen to be two E-boats in quarter-line so that they presented a single long silhouette. Both sides challenged and opened fire simultaneously. The range was closing rapidly and one of the E-boats was hit and damaged at a range of 100 yards before they turned and managed to escape further punishment. The steam gunboats were not
hit.
It had been one of the boats of this flotilla—the Grey Seal—which had sighted the first glider-bomb seen in the Assault Area. This was during the night of D plus 1. Of the air raid on the Assault Area on that night the commanding officer of the Grey Seal wrote: “As a sight it was quite beautiful, a lovely clear sky lit up by blazing barrage balloons, falling planes, and everywhere criss-cross red with brilliant tracer.”
Away to the westward that night was not so brilliantly clear. There was a low-lying fog in the neighbourhood of the Channel Islands. In this fog a group of our motor torpedo-boats located what appeared to be a German convoy, but at once lost it again. Nor was that all. MTB 98 got separated from her consorts and so went on alone. For an hour this MTB stalked and shadowed the German convoy in the fog. Then suddenly she ran into a patch of clear weather and caught a glimpse of the enemy at a range of about 400 yards. The odds against the single MTB were enormous, but she made a snap attack, fired two torpedoes, and disengaged. As she did so she passed within a hundred yards of the nearest German ship and was raked by her gunfire, but she escaped, and as the fog hid her from the enemy her crew heard the explosion of one of their torpedoes. Both the officers of MTB 98 were wounded, the craft was holed and leaking and one engine had been put out of action, yet she was brought safely home.
On 14 June Allied destroyers as well as light coastal forces fought highly successful actions off the western flank. It was soon after midnight when the destroyers HMS Ashanti and the Polish Piorun sighted seven German M-class minesweepers. The Allied ships were under the command of Commander J. R. Barnes, RN, who at once illuminated the enemy by star shell and joined action at a range of 3,000 yards. The Allied guns began hitting at once. The German minesweepers scattered under the impact of the onslaught and some of them tried to seek shelter under the guns of the Jersey batteries. Nevertheless three of the German vessels were seen to sink and a fourth was so badly knocked about that its survival was most unlikely, while two others were brought to a standstill and left burning furiously. It was a pretty bit of work.
Meanwhile our light coastal forces had found three enemy patrol vessels at sea north-east of Cap de la Hogue, had sunk the leading ship by torpedo and had set the second ablaze by gunfire.
Nor had our patrols been inactive off the eastern flank. Just west of Le Havre a group of R-boats had tried to approach our lines of communication, but had been driven hack, unhappily before they could be brought to decisive action. Torpedo-boats and E-boats had also tried to raid the anchorage and the convoy route, but as soon as they were located and engaged they retired hastily under cover of smoke screens. It was believed that some damage was inflicted on the enemy in at least two of these inconclusive actions.
It was early in the morning of D plus 10 that there was fought in the English Channel an action in defence of a convoy which must surely rank among the great convoy actions of the war. The convoy was composed of landing craft laden with supplies for the build-up of the Allied armies in Normandy, and its escort consisted of one motor launch of the Royal Navy. The ML was under the command of Lieutenant J. C. Lewis, RNVR, and she also had on board Lieutenant B. K. C. Arbuthnot, who was in command of the squadron of landing craft. For an hour and three-quarters the enemy attacked this convoy with ten E-boats but, despite their superior armament, they were fought off time and again by the 3-pounders and machine-guns of the motor launch and the Oerlikons of the landing craft, and all except two of the landing craft arrived safely off the Normandy beaches.
This is how the commanding officer described those crowded hundred and five minutes: “It was about 4 a.m. when we were well out in the Channel that we heard gunfire to the eastward. Five minutes later we spotted two E-boats about 600 yards away. We closed them and opened fire with Oerlikons and machine-guns. The E-boats sheered off at once, giving us a few parting shots as they scuttled away. My experience has been that E-boats are usually shy of returning fire and prefer to make off.
“A minute later we turned our fire against new antagonists. That lot disappeared in a smoke screen, but E-boats seemed to be everywhere. We got close to the convoy to protect it, but we were immediately engaged by another bunch of E-boats. While we were pumping shells at these, yet another E-boat was sighted about 500 yards to port. We turned to engage this one and a very hot duel ensued, during which we received most of our damage. One shell hit our smoke container and we were soon emitting an involuntary smoke screen. At first we thought the ship was on fire. More engagements followed at longer ranges until the Huns retired at dawn. Despite their numerical superiority they weren’t prepared to fight it out in daylight. They used flares and star shells to silhouette the convoy, but these proved to be double-edged weapons as they illuminated both friend and foe, and the landing craft fired freely whenever they could see a target. The action took place at such speed that it was difficult to ascertain what damage was inflicted on the E-boats, but we certainly left our mark. The main thing was that we brought the convoy with its reinforcements for the army through intact except for the loss of two landing craft.”
CHAPTER VIII
BUILDING THE STRENGTH OF THE ARMIES
Part of the merchant navies—The critical period—Convoys through the Straits of Dover—“Planting” the “Gooseberries” and “Mulberries”—Courseulles and Port-en-Bessin—The great gale.
“The Merchant Navy proved its staunchness and fidelity in whatever circumstances,” reported Rear-Admiral Sir Philip Vian, commanding the Eastern Task Force. That was a statement which was gratefully echoed by every commander on the spot, who saw the officers and men of the British Merchant Navy and the American Merchant Fleet doing unaccustomed things under conditions of considerable danger, yet preserving always cool heads and displaying high seamanship and skill as well as great courage. By D plus 2, when General Eisenhower, the Supreme Allied Commander, and Admiral Sir Bertram Ramsay, the Allied Naval Commander-in-Chief, visited the Assault Areas in the cruiser HMS Apollo, it could be said with certainty that the initial assault on Hitler’s boasted “Atlantic Wall” had been successful. The German defences had been breached, and the follow-up waves of the Allied Armies of Liberation were being put ashore successfully and were pouring into the breaches.
There was reason for great satisfaction and for some optimism—provided the latter was duly tempered by knowledge of the difficulties which lay ahead. The progress of the D-day assaults had varied in the different areas. Perhaps the greatest contrast was to be found between the two American sectors. In the OMAHA sector there had been a bitter and bloody struggle which had prevented the assaulting troops from moving inland until late in the day. In the UTAH sector, however, things had gone well, so well that Rear-Admiral D. P. Moon, USN, commanding in that area, was able to report before noon on D-day: “Initial waves made landings on exact beaches after accurate air and naval bombardment. Fifteen waves landed by 9.45 a.m. Succeeding waves continue to land. Both beaches cleared of obstacles. Roads under construction and vehicles proceeding inland. Little opposition. Coastal batteries under control.”
It must not be forgotten, however, that that staccato report was a record of high achievement. Taken as a whole, the first waves of the assault on the Normandy beaches had suffered considerable casualties. Moreover, they were by D plus 1 very tired men. They had had a long and far from smooth and comfortable sea passage, followed by an assault on prepared enemy positions and a day and a night of fighting. Unless the build-up of their strength by the landing of reinforcements and supplies were perfectly carried out there would be danger that these tired men would have to go on fighting without immediate or adequate reinforcement, and possibly under the handicap of shortage of ammunition, fuel for the vehicles, water and rations.
There is always that critical period in an amphibious assault, when the first waves have begun to tire. If the follow-up and the build-up is not quick and sufficient the critical period will be prolonged and become a great danger to the whole enterprise. The military
ideal is for the follow-up troops to be in position to attack “through” the assault waves as soon as the latter begin to slow down through fatigue or expenditure of supplies. But like other military ideals in amphibious operations, this is only possible of attainment if the maritime component is perfect in every detail.
The existence of such a critical period was, of course, well known to the German General Staff. It was therefore to be expected that the enemy would launch his strongest attacks on D plus 1 in the hope of meeting only tired troops insufficiently supplied. As it happened, however, the Allied plan had been so successful that the enemy was not ready to counter-attack in any great force at that critical stage—an achievement in which the air bombing of his lines of communication, and particularly of the Seine and Loire bridges, was a potent factor. The latter had virtually transformed North-western France into an island, and had made the German High Command reluctant immediately to rush reinforcements to that “island” because they still could not be certain that we did not intend to land in the Pas de Calais area.
These factors could not, however, be relied upon by the Allied Command, which was very conscious of the great things which remained to be done before the invasion could be accounted successful.
General Eisenhower’s and Admiral Ramsay’s anxieties were by no means dissipated by the success of the initial assault. It was one thing to land assault troops, particularly when a high degree of tactical surprise had been—almost miraculously—achieved. It was quite another thing to build up the strength, both numerical and material, of the forces landed so that they could fight and defeat the maximum force which the enemy could possibly bring against them. If that were not achieved, if the rate of build-up of the strength of the invading armies were to prove insufficient to their needs in any circumstances which might arise, the invasion must inevitably end in disaster for the Allies—a disaster which must alter the whole future of the world.
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