Operation Neptune

by Kenneth Edwards

  Admiral Sir Bertram Ramsay was confident that he had, with the means at his disposal, done all that was humanly possible to ensure that the rate of the build-up would be adequate. He knew, too, that the courage and determination of the tens of thousands of officers and men would not fail. He knew, however, that there were imponderables. The enemy might have at his disposal some strength of which he knew nothing. There was, moreover, the weather. Against the latter, too, all possible precautions had been taken, and even as General Eisenhower and Admiral Ramsay were visiting the Assault Area on D plus 1, the first of the blockships for the “Gooseberry” shelter harbours was arriving and being “planted” in its appointed position. No man, however, can ever say that adequate provisions have been made against the weather, and least of all a seaman of long experience.

  During D-day a great deal had depended upon the officers and men of the merchant navies, and particularly upon those who manned the coasters which, having been navigated for long years among the east-coast sandbanks while skilfully avoiding running aground, were driven hard aground on the beaches of Normandy so that they could unload on to dry beach at low tide. In the build-up period even more would depend upon the merchant navies, and ships and men would have to make sure that the armies would not go short, whatever the enemy or the elements might do. The proportion of the whole effort at sea during the build-up period which was made by the merchant navies was, in personnel, roughly one-half of the whole. Thus, on an average day in the first week after D-day, the arrivals of vessels carrying men, equipment and stores for the build-up to the Assault Areas were:

  25 “Liberty” ships.

  38 Coasters.

  9 Troopships.

  40 LST’s (Landing Ship, Tank).

  75 LCT’s (Landing Craft, Tank).

  20 LCI(L) (Landing Craft, Infantry, Large).

  It must be remembered that of the 4,266 Landing Ships and Landing Craft which took part in the assaults on D-day a large number, particularly of the smaller types, had been lost or damaged. Some of these craft casualties had been caused by “marine risk” in the shape of weather, collision, or accidents in beaching or trying to “unbeach”; while others had been the result of enemy shell fire. The great majority, however, were the result of the mined obstacles which the Germans had placed between high and low water marks, and even below the low water mark.

  It was only by the application of careful organisation to the detailed plan as laid down in the operation orders for “Neptune” that the gigantic task of the build-up was possible. Everywhere there was team-work, together with a very real desire to simplify tasks wherever possible. The Build-up Control Organisation saw that the loads were ready for the ships at the right place and time. The Turn-Round Control Organisation made certain that no ship or craft would spend more than the minimum of time over the “turn-round” at the end of a voyage. The system of marking ships simplified and expedited the collection and despatch of convoys. The task of the captains of ships and craft where whenever possible made lighter by arranging for them always to load at the same berth. Above all and pervading all was the determination of every officer and man concerned that no individual failure should lead to the troops fighting in Normandy wanting for anything.

  It must be remembered that the gigantic task of the build-up was by no means a question only of cross-Channel traffic. The cross-Channel traffic certainly formed the greater part of the build-up during the first stages, but all this had to be dovetailed into other shipping movements, and it was only a short time before a considerable amount of the build-up traffic was coming from the far side of the Atlantic. This certainly came first to British ports and then joined the cross-Channel traffic to Normandy, but the two had to be most meticulously co-ordinated in order to avoid congestion in the British ports which were working far beyond normal capacity in serving the invasion, and to avoid periods of embarrassing plenty alternating with lean periods.

  A great deal of the follow-up and build-up traffic, too, had to come from the Thames Estuary. This meant that considerable convoys had to pass through the Straits of Dover, literally under the big guns of the German batteries in the Cap Gris Nez area. Some of the early reinforcements of troops for Normandy, among them the famous 51st Highland Division, had to make this voyage. The necessity for this was beyond question, but it gave Admiral Sir Bertram Ramsay some anxiety. He had ample cause to know the Straits of Dover and the capabilities of the German batteries on the far shore, and these were the first big ship convoys to pass through the Straits since the days before the withdrawal of the Allied armies from Dunkirk. Here was an operation in itself, and it was carried out with great success, the big ship convoys passing through the Straits of Dover unmolested by the enemy and under cover of a diversion and of smoke screens produced by our light coastal forces.

  The Allied Naval Commander-in-Chief remarked after the Allied Armies of Liberation had burst out of the Normandy beachhead and were racing after a defeated and disorganised enemy that there was a danger that people would not appreciate the magnitude and difficulty of “Operation Neptune” for the very reason that it had gone “according to plan.” It is perhaps fortunate, therefore, that it is possible to record the fact that one ship went astray in that gigantic organisation. This ship was the British India liner Neuralia, and the fact that she did not proceed “according to plan” was in no way due to her officers or crew. It was merely the solitary case of a mistake in the organisation.

  SS Neuralia was launched in 1912 for the British India Steam Navigation Company. During the War it served as a troopship. It struck an allied mine in Gulf of Taranto, Italy on 1 May 1945—just seven days before VE Day—and sank on the spot.

  The Neuralia was one of those ships which had come to the south coast from the Thames and had successfully run the gauntlet of the Straits of Dover. She had sailed from the Thames Estuary in the first personnel convoy to leave the Thames for the Isle of Wight area, and she duly anchored at Spithead in accordance with her instructions. The Neuralia should have gone over to Normandy in convoy almost at once, and should have arrived in the Assault Area on D plus 2, but it was not until the afternoon of D Plus 5 that she was discovered still anchored at Spithead. It was subsequently discovered that the mistake had arisen through the substitution by the War Office at a late date of the Neuralia for another ship, and the notification of this change not having been received by the authorities responsible for making up the outgoing convoys from Spithead.

  The Neuralia had on board elements of the 7th Armoured Division, and one can imagine and sympathise with their fury at remaining at anchor off the British coast when they should have been in the thick of things in Normandy. It is an astonishing fact, however, that the absence of these important troops was never questioned by the Second Army, which was apparently unaware that they had not arrived in Normandy on the appointed D plus 2. That, perhaps, is an illustration of the speed with which events were moving, particularly in reference to the build-up.

  One cannot but marvel at the fact that the case of the Neuralia was unique among the many thousands of ships involved in the build-up. If one considers only the ships and major landing craft and excludes hospital ships, tankers, auxiliaries of all types and salvage ships, the total number of arrivals in the Assault Areas between D plus 1 and D plus 24 was 4,257 ships and major landing craft. This total was made up as follows:

  570 “Liberty” ships.

  180 Troopships.

  788 Coasters.

  905 LST’s (Landing Ship, Tank).

  1,442 LCT’s (Landing Craft, Tank).

  372 LCI(L) (Landing Craft, Infantry, Large).

  There were of course, many thousands of minor landing craft, tugs, ferry craft and all sorts of other vessels in addition to the above.

  The whole essence of the plan for the build-up had been that it should be as steady as possible and worked on a repetitive schedule in the interests of simplicity. The arrivals of the ships and major landing craft in the Assault Ar
eas day by day are eloquent testimony of how well the plan worked.

  The first three days after D-day were abnormal days, for the shipping was recovering from the tremendous effort of D-day and at the same time striving to land the very maximum of reinforcements, equipment and stores on the Normandy coast, irrespective of strain upon men or material. It had never been expected that the build-up organisation would be able to settle down to a regular schedule of deliveries before D plus 4.

  Thus the arrivals in the Assault Areas of ships and major landing craft on D plus 1 amounted to 98 vessels, but on the following day the total of arrivals rose to 216. The latter figure was very close to the average daily arrivals of the next week, but D plus 2 was, nevertheless, still an abnormal day because the total figure comprised a very high proportion of LCT’s (Landing Craft, Tank), most of which had been pre-loaded, and a very small proportion of LST’s (Landing Ship, Tank). The latter were larger and of much greater account in assessing the build-up. On both D plus 1 and D plus 2 the number of LCT’s made up over fifty per cent of the total arrivals of ships and major landing craft, while very few LST’s arrived on either day. Of the 98 arrivals on D plus 1, only 4 were LST’s, while 51 were LCT’s. On D plus 2, of the 216 arrivals no less than 110 were LCT’s, while only 6 LST’s arrived. By D Plus 3 the proportion of the various ships and major craft in the arrivals at the Assault Areas was beginning to approach the desired normal, but the number of LST’s, although it rose to 15, was still small by comparison with the other vessels and craft. Yet by the end of D plus 3 no less than 47 convoys had crossed to Normandy.

  The arrivals in the Assault Areas on D plus 4 showed that the plan had worked, for they approximated fairly closely to the planned daily normal, not only in the total arrivals, but in the numbers of the various types of ships and craft which made up that total. On D plus 4 the arrivals in the Assault Areas were:

  29 “Liberty” ships.

  44 Coasters.

  31 LST’s.

  81 LCT’s.

  10 Troopships.

  28 LCI(L).

  a total of 223 ships and major landing craft.

  Everything seemed to be going exactly in accordance with the invasion plan, and it continued for some time to do so despite the worst that the enemy could do by aircraft attacks and attempted attacks by E-boats, U-boats, and the few other surface forces at his disposal. Moreover, the weather, which had forced a postponement of D-day and continued to be rather uncertain and default from the conception of June weather on that coast, did not for some time play tricks capable of interfering with the steady but enormous flow of the build-up.

  And while this was going on the precautions planned against a sudden deterioration in the weather were going ahead as fast as might be. On D plus 1 the majority of the blockships to form the breakwaters of the “Gooseberry” harbours arrived in the Assault Area and were duly sunk in their appointed positions. That was no easy task. Each of the five “Gooseberry” harbours—one off each of the five main assault beaches—had an experienced naval officer in charge who was responsible that the blockships were sunk in the correct positions. This officer was known as the “planter” of the “Gooseberry.” He and his men had a very difficult task. The most accurate navigation was demanded of them in the face of strong tides and a wind of no inconsiderable force, for a blockship in the wrong place would not only be waste; it would leave a gap in the projected breakwater through which would surge the seas which it was supposed to impede, and it would almost inevitably result in a major obstruction and navigational danger in an area likely to be so congested with shipping that every square yard of anchorage would be of value.

  To add to the difficulties of the “planters,” many of the navigational marks ashore were obscured by the “fog of war”—the dust of bursting shells and the smoke of burning buildings as well as the cordite smoke from the naval guns supporting the armies ashore. Marks on the beach, too, were more often than not obscured by other vessels. It was a navigational nightmare, to which was added the distraction of enemy shelling. By D plus 1 many of the German batteries which had been “silenced” during the vital early hours of D-day were “coming to life.” Particularly was this true on the flanks of the Assault Area, where the German battery crews were beginning to go back to their weapons and bring them once again into action. Every time they did so they were hotly and effectively engaged by naval gunfire, but they were able to fire several rounds before being again driven from their guns. The Germans, moreover, had by this time brought up mobile guns with which they could shell the flank anchorages—SWORD on the east and UTAH on the west—and these mobile batteries working in the woods were difficult for the bombarding ships to locate and almost impossible for them to knock out. As early as 9.30 a.m. on D-day, Rear-Admiral Vian reported that, although the main German batteries had been silenced, for the time being at least, the beaches and anchorages in the SWORD area were being subjected to an increasing volume of shell fire from mobile guns in the woods south of Franceville (east of the River Orne) which were very difficult to locate and engage.

  It is the nature of the Hun when behind a gun to shoot at the target which looks biggest and easiest to hit. That was an enemy trait which was to stand us in very good stead off the entrance to the Scheldt nearly five months later, but that was little consolation on 7 June, when the “blockships” coming in to their sinking positions for the two flank harbours came under a considerable volume of German shell fire, which they could not dodge because it was essential for them to move slowly into their correct positions and maintain these positions while the vessels were settling on to the sea bed.

  Despite all the difficulties—and they included one case on the American sector in which one side of the bridge of a blockship was removed by a German shell just after the commanding officer had moved over to the other side of the bridge—the blockships were one and all successfully and correctly placed.

  Thus each of the five Assault Areas off the Normandy beaches were speedily provided with a shelter harbour. These, however, could shelter only small craft—the multitudinous ferry craft and light craft of all types which served the beaches and the ships in the anchorages. Shelter against the weather had been provided for the most vulnerable craft, but a great deal more was required before it could be said with truth that everything possible had been done to guard against interruption of the build-up by the weather.

  The greater steps to guard against weather interference with the build-up were already in train. The great concrete caissons, the bombardons, the spud pierheads and the pier roadway sections—all of which formed parts of the great prefabricated ports—were already on their way. They had been provisionally assembled and sunk off Dungeness and Selsey Bill, and now they were being raised from those positions and were setting out in tow to their appointed stations off the Normandy beaches.

  It was obvious that these artificial “Mulberry” harbours would take longer to assemble off the Normandy coast than the “Gooseberry” harbours. An almost cubic concrete caisson displacing some 6,000 tons is an unwieldy tow even in ideal weather, and its rate of progress cannot be compared with that of a ship under her own power, even if that ship is largely concrete-filled and designated as a blockship. Moreover, the shortage of tugs set a definite limit to the speed of delivery of these great and unwieldy components of a vast project. This was nothing less than the building off the Normandy coast in little more than a week a harbour such as would normally require five or six years of hard and concentrated work to complete.

  It is interesting to recall that even in the rush of invasion and the unique task of taking these harbours to France and setting them up off Normandy, tradition was well served. The Naval Officer-in-Charge of the British prefabricated harbour was Captain Christopher Petrie, RN, who had farmed successfully in South Africa for many years, having retired after winning a DSO and bar in the 1914-18 war. Captain Petrie was given as his headquarters ship the old light cruiser Despatch, which was lying at
the entrance to the scrap-heap, devoid of guns and all stores. By prodigious efforts the ship was “brought forward” and stored, albeit in a manner so unorthodox that it would in normal times have caused great umbrage in high places. Moreover, the ship was armed—with a considerable number of Bofors and other light guns considered primarily as anti-aircraft weapons. These were begged and borrowed, chiefly from the military. Then came the task of manning her, for she required no small complement to man her fine array of guns. Again the army came to the rescue, and the Despatch sailed with all her guns manned by soldiers and with a major as the gunnery officer. Tradition had been well served, for the men manning the Despatch’s armament belonged to the Queen’s Regiment. It had been more than 280 years since the main armament of one of the King’s ships had been manned exclusively by soldiers, and then it had been by the “Queen’s,” who had given their regimental march of “Braganza” to the navy’s premier gunnery school at Portsmouth.

  The breakwater of the concrete caissons of the Mulberry Harbour as they were being sunk into position.

  The Mulberry Harbour at Vierville-sur-Mer/St Laurent-sur-Mer for Omaha Beach before the storm. A photograph at the foot of the descent, exit D1; with the Western Pier still under construction, 16 June 1944. The floating docks on their towers from the Lobnitz shipyard on the Clyde, are already in service with the centre pier.