Bob’s relationship with the SAS had been much closer. He had been involved with its conception and might well be numbered among its godfathers. Many of the ‘Originals’, notably David Stirling and Jock Lewes, had served under him in 8 Commando, and he had later supported Bill Stirling in the formation of 2 SAS. Paddy Mayne’s Special Raiding Squadron, comprising the remnants of 1 SAS after David Stirling’s capture, had served under him in the Special Service Brigade in Sicily. Bob had retained an interest whilst he was CCO and had supported Brian Franks’ appointment to command 2 SAS following Bill Stirling’s resignation in 1944.
The SAS was disbanded after the War, but the requirement for a deep penetration unit led to the creation of 21 SAS out of a Territorial regiment, the Artists Rifles, under Franks in 1947. This remained a Territorial unit, but a squadron served in the Korean War and then in the Malayan Emergency. The ongoing need for its particular skills led to the formation of a regular unit, 22 SAS, in 1952, and another reserve unit, 23 SAS, in 1959.
At the time of Bob’s appointment 22 SAS was experiencing a relatively quiet spell. The Malayan Emergency, in which it had played a minor but nonetheless important role, had come to an end, and the successful Jebel Akhdar campaign in Oman had been concluded in the previous year. The Commanding Officer was Lieutenant Colonel Tony Deane-Drummond, who had served with distinction in 1 Airborne Division at Arnhem. Not long after Bob’s appointment, he was succeeded by Lieutenant Colonel John Woodhouse.
Woodhouse was regarded by David Stirling as one of the co-founders of the SAS, although he did not serve in the Regiment until 1950. In Stirling’s opinion, he had restored its original philosophy following a period of misuse in Malaya. During the 1950s he had, in particular, devised the rigorous selection process which was thereafter to be the gold standard for recruitment into special forces worldwide. At the time Woodhouse was appointed, operations were continuing in the Arabian Peninsula, notably in the Aden Protectorate, but attention was subsequently diverted to Borneo. This was due to a policy of ‘confrontation’ by Indonesia, which occupied the larger part of the island and wished to take over the remainder, consisting of the states of Sabah and Sarawak in the newly created Federation of Malaya, a fully-fledged member of the British Commonwealth, and the independent state of Brunei, which had longstanding ties to Great Britain. Elements of the British armed services were deployed, and the SAS and its Australian and New Zealand equivalents were called in specifically to intercept infiltration into these territories by the Indonesians and subsequently to conduct raids into enemy territory under a policy of ‘aggressive defence’.
In 1964 Bob asked to visit the two squadrons of 22 SAS on the ground, and the War Office agreed that he should do so. He set off on 5 October, travelling first-class in a BOAC Comet to Kuala Lumpur, where he stayed with Anthony and Dot Head, the former being at the time the British High Commissioner to Malaya.5 After a briefing there he moved on to Singapore, where he stayed with and was briefed further by Admiral Sir Varyl Begg, the C-in-C Far East. He arrived in Brunei on 9 October, staying with Major General Walter Walker, the Director of Operations and a strong supporter of the SAS. Two squadrons, A and B, were operating in the area, and since Bob’s visit coincided with one relieving the other, he was able see them both on active service. He was deeply impressed by their tactics, jungle craft and efforts to win the hearts and minds of the local population, and was gratified to be told by the local army commander that the seventy men in each squadron were doing a job which would otherwise demand a whole battalion of conventional troops. He was particularly taken by the A Squadron Commander, Major Peter de la Billière, who in 1990/91 was to command British Forces in the First Gulf War.
Bob returned the way he had come, staying for several days with the Heads before returning with them to the UK, where he arrived back on 17 October. His written recommendations to the War Office were to add a third squadron to the existing two, which would provide a more manageable cycle of action, rest and training, and to provide them with more and better helicopters. Neither was acted upon!
His return coincided with the end of Woodhouse’s term as CO of 22 SAS. In addition to the COs, the Regiment had a Regimental Colonel,6 who was in overall command of the three SAS units. The retiring Regimental Colonel, Hugh Gillies, wanted Woodhouse to succeed him, and this was supported strongly by opinion in the Regiment and by Bob. The Military Secretary, however, was only prepared to offer Woodhouse a training appointment as a full colonel or a job in public relations. Unsurprisingly, he decided to retire.
Gillies’ successor was Colonel John Waddy, who had served as a company commander in the Parachute Regiment at Arnhem. Many in the SAS feared a Parachute Regiment takeover, but nothing was further from Waddy’s mind, and before long he was fully accepted. It might have been thought that the choice of someone new to the Regiment was a matter of War Office policy, but in fact Waddy’s own successor, Mike Wingate Gray, was appointed immediately after stepping down as CO of 22 SAS.
Whereas Gillies had had a close relationship with Bob, Waddy saw much less of him; Bob’s role was certainly not excessively demanding, although he kept in touch directly with the CO of 22 SAS at its base in Hereford and took the chair at the bi-annual SAS Officers’ Dinner, just as he did at the Army Commandos Officers’ Dining Club.
The one colonelcy which eluded Bob was that of his own regiment. The Colonel of the Blues since 1951 had been Sir Richard Howard-Vyse, and when he died in 1962, Bob was almost certainly the most distinguished former officer of the regiment. The appointment, however, went to Field Marshal Sir Gerald Templer, and there is no evidence that anyone else was considered. Templer’s close personal friendship with Field Marshal Lord Harding, at the time the Colonel of the Life Guards, may have counted in his favour. When Harding stepped down from his own appointment towards the end of 1964, Bob’s name was on the short list to succeed him, together with those of Antony Head and Colonel Sir Robert Gooch. Late in proceedings, another name emerged, that of Mountbatten, and it carried the day, with Head making the approach to his and Bob’s former mentor on behalf of the regiment. Mountbatten later wrote to Bob, saying that only Angie would appreciate fully his delight at the appointment, because of his weakness for uniforms.
In April 1962, however, Bob did receive another prestigious appointment, that of Lord Lieutenant of Nottinghamshire, the Queen’s representative in the county, once again in succession to the Duke of Portland. Although there was no formal royal visit during his period of office, there were occasional visits by other members of the Royal Family, whom he was obliged to escort if he could, being otherwise represented by one of the many Deputy Lieutenants. He sat on occasion as a magistrate, in preparation for which role he had to attend a course at the University of Birmingham, and was required to be present at a large number of functions, many of which, such as giving the prizes at the county boxing match, he found exceedingly tiresome, as he did the chairing of many committees. On the other hand, he enjoyed the increased contact with the armed services in the county.
One committee to which he was appointed had nothing to do with Nottinghamshire. This was set up to plan Operation HOPE NOT, the state funeral of Sir Winston Churchill. As for the Coronation, the organization was in the hands of the Earl Marshal, the Duke of Norfolk, whose former relationship with Bob was almost certainly the reason for his inclusion; but Churchill himself probably vetted the members, as the former prime minister was closely involved with their decisions. Bob told John Waddy about one occasion on which they were discussing which London terminal would be used to convey the coffin by rail to Bladon for burial. Although Paddington would have been the logical choice, Churchill insisted on Waterloo. On being asked why, he growled, ‘Because de Gaulle will be there’!
Bob continued to retain an interest in Malta. He and Grantham were guests of the British Government at the Independence Day celebrations on 21 September 1964. Parliamentary democracy had been restored in 1962 under a Government led by Borg Ol
ivier, who had very quickly demanded independence. A referendum was held in May 1964, resulting in a majority in favour of independence, and Malta became a constitutional monarchy,7 with the Queen as head of state. Mintoff ’s supporters predictably held demonstrations to show their discontent.
Three years later, with Malta struggling yet again under the impact of British defence cuts, Bob wrote to The Times to argue that some of the aid given to former British territories which had subsequently adopted policies which were essentially hostile to Great Britain should be diverted instead to Malta. Although Bob was strongly supported by Mountbatten, who wrote personally to the then Prime Minister, Harold Wilson, little was done to alleviate the situation.
The family was moving on fast. Tilly divorced Mark Agnew in 1963 and married an American lawyer, Sidney Davis, with whom she lived in New York; she had no more children of her own, but after the death of Sidney’s brother the couple adopted his two sons. Tilly used to visit her parents frequently. Joe was finding it difficult to settle on any career, dabbling in art and music and spending a lot of time travelling, driving fast cars and flying aeroplanes; eventually, he opened an antique shop in London. Emma married Richard Temple in 1964 and had two daughters, Lucy in 1965 and Alice in 1967. Ben left Eton in 1964 and went on to Sheffield College of Technology to study Building and Structural Engineering, but left early to work in film production and later in catering. Martha spent six months in Spain in 1965 and six months in France in 1966 to learn the two languages and then went to stay with Tilly in early 1967, before returning to share a flat with Ben in London, where she worked in an antique shop.
The new Wiseton Hall proved far more convenient for family and guests, and visits by both were frequent, although Bob had time to pursue his various hobbies and he and Angie regularly holidayed abroad. There was, however, a significant fly in the ointment, in the shape of his bad leg. This had been causing him pain for years, and he had found no cure for it. The original cause, diagnosed as sciatica, was subsequently exacerbated by an arterial condition. This may have been the result of a long history of smoking and alcohol consumption, although after the War Bob gave up cigarettes in favour of less frequent cigars, whilst his drinking was not excessive.
Bob visited a number of specialists and at one time was provided with a box from which wires were attached to his leg whilst he was lying down, probably giving him some form of mild electric shock. Neither this treatment nor a visit to a clinic in Switzerland made any real difference. Amputation was threatened, but instead of this he underwent a less radical operation at the end of 1967, following which there was a marked improvement. One day, following his regular walk to the bottom of the drive and back, he told Martha, who was staying after contracting glandular fever, that he had felt no pain at all. A few days later, on Sunday 10 March 1968, whilst walking back from church in Wiseton village, he suffered a fatal heart attack.
Chapter 23
Reflections
Bob had been only sixty and still vigorous in mind and body, so his death came as a great shock to his family, his friends and those who had served under him. A family funeral was followed by two memorial services, the first on 1 April 1968 in the Guards Chapel in London, which was attended by a large number of friends and representatives of the organizations with which he had been associated. The second, on 5 April in Southwell Minster, was for not only the great and good of Nottinghamshire but also for many others he had known there, some all his life. The Queen was represented at the latter by Rear Admiral Robert Sherbrooke VC, who was to succeed Bob as Lord Lieutenant.
Three years later, Wiseton Hall was sold and Angie went to live in Spain. She returned regularly on visits and never lost her interest in the Commando Benevolent Fund: although she had to resign from the Committee, she accepted the position of President. There was one further tragedy to come for the family when Joe, who had married Lucy Fleming, the daughter of Bob’s longstanding friend Peter Fleming, was drowned in a boating accident in 1980 with their eight-year-old daughter Flora.
Bob used to say that he would have liked to have been a research chemist, but that career option would have been entirely impractical in the late 1920s, not to say unacceptable to his father. Instead he became a soldier, at a time of peace when professionalism was in short supply and advancement slow. A more thoughtful officer than many of his contemporaries, he found his occupation socially congenial but professionally stifling, and he was only too ready first to test himself outside his normal environment on the voyage to East Africa and then to branch out from his regiment when an opportunity presented itself, combining his love of science with his training as a soldier by becoming an expert in chemical warfare. By mid-1940, however, with the Phoney War at an end, the prospect of serving on the staff had lost its appeal.
During the War Bob became known as ‘Lucky’ Laycock. Whilst he himself was later to concede that luck had played a part in his career, he disliked the name intensely, asserting with some justification that his achievements were largely the result of his own efforts and abilities. He should perhaps have comforted himself by recalling Napoleon’s preference for lucky generals over merely good ones. The soubriquet was, in any event, perfectly appropriate. Not only did he manage to escape from perilous predicaments on two occasions but, like many who enjoy successful careers in all walks of life, he had the knack of being in the right place at the right time. This was never more so than in his initial appointment to the Commandos. If the appeal for volunteers had come out three weeks later, he would have been on a ship to Egypt on his way to become a staff officer at GHQ Middle East, and his subsequent career would certainly have looked very different. However, it still required a great deal of determination on Bob’s part to achieve the result that he so greatly desired. He liked to quote Admiral of the Fleet Lord Fisher, writing a report on one of his subordinates:
This officer shares one quality in common with myself. In my case it is tenacity of purpose, in his, sheer bloody obstinacy.1
When push came to shove, Bob was to prove extremely obstinate, although he knew when a battle was no longer worth fighting, good examples being his conceding in late 1943 that the combining of the Army and Royal Marine Commandos was inevitable and his reluctant acceptance of the demise of the Army Commandos after the War.
In addition to luck, most successful officers also required patronage, and Bob acquired two powerful patrons in the shape of Mountbatten and Churchill. The former came good in the immediate aftermath of what had looked like a fairly disastrous year for Bob in the Mediterranean and later refused his request to resign over the reorganization of the Commandos. Churchill supported Bob after Layforce was disbanded and subsequently turned to him after more senior candidates had rejected a job in his gift. Both had known Bob for many years, Churchill from his childhood.
Notwithstanding the roles played by luck and patronage, it is clear that Bob was invariably well regarded by his superiors. His career in the OTC and at Sandhurst, his appointment as Adjutant of the Blues and his selection as one of a relatively small number of officers in the BEF to go on the Second War Course at the Staff College were indicative of this, as was his nomination by Sergison-Brooke to form the Commando being raised partly in London District. His leadership qualities were also appreciated at an early stage by both Keyes and Haydon. He was one of the four lieutenant colonels chosen to command the short-lived Special Service battalions, and was then selected to lead what became Layforce over the competing claim of Dudley Lister.
Bob’s appointments, however, did not always turn out as he might have hoped. Layforce never operated as a whole, as had been originally intended, and its only success, in which Bob had no direct involvement, was the action of 11 Commando on the Litani River, the first example of a Commando operating on the seaward flank in support of conventional troops. It was recognized, however, in London if not in Cairo and not least by the Prime Minister, that Layforce had been badly misused and that the fault did not lie with Bob.
> For someone who had joined the Commandos specifically to see some action, Bob’s encounters with the enemy turned out to be very brief. Five days on Crete, another five on Operation FLIPPER, followed by the period of evasion, two in Sicily and twelve at Salerno added up to a very modest total, however intense they might have been. However, he did prove to be a brave and decisive leader when it mattered. The last day on Crete became controversial much later, but was not so at the time. Bob’s handling of the rearguard was masterly and, in the circumstances in which he found himself, his decisions to save the remnants of Layforce and to leave the island himself, rather than tamely accept incarceration for all, were the correct ones militarily. On Sicily and particularly at Salerno, the actions of the Special Service Brigade attracted the favourable attention of the senior commanders.
Commando General Page 30