Terrible Victory

by Mark Zuehlke

Neither side able to use armour to any effect, each placed extraordinary call on artillery. That morning, Brigadier Stanley Todd–3rd Canadian Infantry Division’s artillery chief–shifted the 13th and 14th Field Regiments to the northeast of Kaprijke to put them in range of the beachhead. This added to the 15th and 19th Field Regiments and 10th Medium Regiment already firing support from the eastern side of the Braakman Inlet.36 Normally, artillery fired from positions behind the advancing battalions, but here the gunners positioned east of the beachhead were shooting on an oblique angle while those at Kaprijke, due south and behind the Leopold Canal, fired straight at 9 CIBs. This meant the forward observation officers had to use extra caution not to overshoot targets, something they had never previously faced.

  ALTHOUGH THE FIRST landings had been on schedule, the mud beaches had delayed the unloading of vehicles. Consequently, the flotillas were not returned to Terneuzen and ready to move the second lift until 0815 hours. Now daylight, the services of Lieutenant Commander Franks were no longer required. “I was proud to be the only naval member of yet another successful ‘combined operation,’” he observed dryly.37

  The day was partly cloudy, the seas calm, not a wisp of mist. Had it not been for the Canadian Chemical Warfare Section unit dashing “about with the generators on the back of a motor boat known as ‘Smokey Joe,’” the Buffaloes would have been strung out like so many ducks in a row for the German gunners on Walcheren Island. But the smoke thrown out by the generators screened the long flotilla throughout its passage to Green Beach, forcing the Germans to fire blind. So they concentrated on sinking Smokey Joe. The Stormont, Dundas and Glengarry Highlanders aboard the flotilla anxiously watched as “shells dropped in the water around the craft, sending up big water spouts,” but none scored a hit.

  Not only the Glens and brigade headquarters were being carried to Green Beach. Also present were a Cameron Highlanders of Ottawa machine-gun company and mortar platoon, a platoon of engineers, a company of No. 23 Field Ambulance, and a platoon from the Royal Canadian Army Service Corps detailed to offload and move stores up to the fighting units. Touchdown came at about 0930 hours and, as the Buffaloes growled onto the muddy beach, everything seemed calm. Just as the men and vehicles started unloading, however, “hell broke loose, with heavy artillery, mortar and everything the enemy could muster being poured into the small foothold.” The Glens’ signal officer, Lieutenant Neil Medhurst, and his signaller, Private Malcolm Elvin Thomas Armstrong, died instantly when a shell hit their jeep as it descended a Buffalo ramp. “The shelling was so bad that some of the men lay flat on the ground and dug with their hands so as not to present a standing target for flying shrapnel; others took shelter in small sheds while their ‘buddies’ dug. The sheds, however, offered more comfort than cover! Casualties mounted rapidly during the next hour and a half and then orders were received to push out of the bridgehead into the Hoofdplaat objective.”38

  Lieutenant Colonel Roger Rowley was eager to get his men to the fishing village of Hoofdplaat, so ordered ‘A’ Company to advance along the seaward side of the dyke while ‘B’ Company would go up the landward side. ‘C’ Company would be to the left, driving straight up a road that led to the village, with ‘D’ Company close behind.39 The plan of attack was typical Rowley, a hard charger always in a hurry and careless of details, but who got the job done whatever the costs.40

  Sergeant Fred Howarth of ‘A’ Company was huddling in a trench with Private Jack Tighe when the attack order came. “We got out of the trench… going single file and Jack Tighe was hit by a sniper as he went through a gap in the dyke… we were under direct fire from an enemy 20mm gun. By the time we reached our ‘destination’ (the gun) we were pinned down and I had three men left in my section–Snyder, Hall, and myself. We came to a culvert in the ditch and Lt. H.C. Fisher had been hit by a shell on the other side of the culvert and we could hear him over there. Lt. Ted Annable said he had to get over to him. I told him: ‘The minute you get up out of this ditch, they’re going to shell us and you’ll get hit!’… But he decided to try to get over there.

  “The moment he stepped up they hit him. The shell tore right through his hip and he was a goner right there, but he was still alive and one of the bravest things I think I ever saw was when a jeep came up with [a Stretcher Bearer] in it and it was Cec Lalonde who was driving. He brought that jeep up, along with another man aboard and the jeep was riddled with bullets. Even the jerry cans on it had fluid running out of them. Lalonde still put Annable on the stretcher and they put him in the jeep and took him back out. But he died shortly after from his wounds.”41

  In addition to the 20-millimetre gun, ‘A’ Company was blocked two hundred yards short of the village by a large concrete bunker manned by snipers and machine gunners. Rowley ordered one of the antitank platoon’s six-pounders to take on the enemy gun and bust the bunker. Corporal “Matty” Matheson’s section went up in a carrier, towing the gun behind. As they approached ‘A’ Company, the Germans sprayed the carrier and bullets hit Matheson in both legs. Privates M.S. MacDonald and Fred Crowe pulled the man into a ditch, but MacDonald was also wounded in the process. They soon reloaded Matheson in the carrier and withdrew.42

  ‘C’ Company, meanwhile, had managed to push into Hoofdplaat against only scant resistance from snipers. Having gained the village, it moved north along the outskirts in an attempt to reach the Germans pinning down ‘A’ Company, while ‘B’ Company swung south into the fields to close off any avenue of escape in that direction. ‘A’ Company was frantically trying to figure out the precise location of the 20-millimetre gun, but when Corporal Marcellus dashed up into the attic of a house for a look, he was shot in the mouth.43

  With ‘C’ Company quickly clearing houses, the Germans started trying to escape the village. Their lines of retreat were either along the seaward side of the dyke to the front of ‘A’ Company or out into the fields where ‘B’ Company was. The latter company was taking heavy fire from a farmhouse to its west, but attempts to storm the place were driven back. Finally, with darkness falling, the company dug in with instructions to block any withdrawal by the Germans in the village. ‘C’ Company was well positioned within the village and ‘A’ Company remained pinned in front of the bunkers. ‘D’ Company had been held in reserve back at the beach.

  Most of ‘A’ Company was still using the ditch for cover. “Much of the time we just had our heads out of the water,” Howarth remembered. “If you got up, you were a goner. Since it was fall, it was cold that time of year… It was starting to get dark and the Germans started to shell us.” Everyone was in for a long, hard night.44

  But with all of 9 CIB successfully through the back door of the Breskens Pocket, the tide of battle was slowly turning in First Canadian Army’s favour. News of the landings near Hoofdplaat offered a glimmer of hope for 7th Canadian Infantry Brigade mired in the grim bridgehead on the Leopold Canal. On the morning of October 9, the situation there had been marginally improved when the Royal Winnipeg Rifles managed to close the gap between the Regina Rifles and Canadian Scottish Regiment to create a coherent brigade front. Conditions remained dreadful, however, with casualties continuing to mount steadily.

  Because the ground beyond the bridgehead was badly flooded, Brigadier Jock Spragge decided that wresting the initiative from the Germans would only be possible if the regiments shifted slightly westwards to gain the Maldegem–Aardenburg road crossing of the canal. The bridge here had been blown, but Spragge hoped his engineers might be able to launch a Class 40 Bailey bridge across that could be used by tanks. The farmland west of the road was also not as inundated as that to the east.45 Spragge’s plan was a modest one, but even achieving this limited objective would strain the diminished regiments to the maximum. Yet the fact that the bridgehead had survived this long was encouraging. Heartened by 9 cib’s achievement, he could see hope for his own brigade.

  PART THREE

  TIGHTENING

  THE RING

  [ 15 ]
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  Of First Importance

  II CANADIAN CORPS’S OCTOBER bid to break the German stranglehold on the West Scheldt coincided with a showdown between General Dwight G. Eisenhower and Twenty-First Army Group commander, Field Marshal Bernard Law Montgomery. An October 5 Supreme Headquarters Allied Expeditionary Force meeting in Versailles starkly concluded that “access to Antwerp must be captured with the least possible delay” or the Allied army in western Europe would grind to a standstill–literally starved of supplies.

  In addition to Eisenhower, his army group commanders, the naval and air commanders-in-chiefs, and other senior SHAEF staffers, Chief of the Imperial General Staff, Field Marshal Sir Alan Brooke had also flown into Versailles from London. Despite general agreement regarding Antwerp’s importance, Montgomery still considered its opening secondary to a drive into the Ruhr Valley. He wanted American divisions from the United States First Army put under his command to achieve this. Given adequate forces and overall command, Montgomery argued, he could seize the Ruhr without worrying about Antwerp.

  Montgomery’s proposal was met by a verbal broadside from Naval Commander-in-Chief Admiral Sir Bertram Ramsay. “I… lambasted him for not having made Antwerp the immediate objective of highest priority, and I let fly with all my guns at the faulty strategy we had allowed. Our large forces were practically grounded for lack of supply, and had we now got Antwerp and not the corridor [Nijmegen bridgehead] we should be in a far better position for launching the knockout blow. CIGS Brooke told me after the meeting that I had spoken his thoughts, and it was high time someone expressed them.”1

  In his diary, Brooke commented: “I feel that Monty’s strategy for once is at fault. Instead of carrying out the advance on Arnhem he ought to have made certain of Antwerp in the first place… Ike nobly took all the blame on himself as he had approved Monty’s suggestion to operate on Arnhem.”2

  Despite general agreement that Antwerp must have first priority, the moment the meeting broke up, Montgomery set off on the course he had advocated. On October 8, he told Twelfth Army Group’s General Omar N. Bradley and United States First Army commander, Lieutenant General Courtenay Hodges that he would continue playing what in “cricketing parlance” was a “two-eyed stance.” The following day, Montgomery outlined three priorities. First, the Nijmegen bridgehead “must be securely held and maintained.” Second, the area west of the Maas “must be cleaned up, and the enemy pushed back eastwards over the river.” Third was the need to “open up Antwerp quickly. The use of Antwerp is vital to the Allies… operations to open the port must have priority as regards troops, ammunition, and so on.” For the latter, Montgomery would strengthen First Canadian Army with an American infantry division moving from Cherbourg to near Brussels in a week’s time. The 52nd British (Lowland) Division, deploying from England to Oostende on October 13, could also be committed.

  Eisenhower reiterated the “supreme importance of Antwerp” by telegram on October 9. “I must repeat, we are now squarely up against the situation which we have anticipated for months; our intake into Continent will not support our battle. All operations will come to a standstill unless Antwerp is producing by the middle of November. I must emphasise that I consider Antwerp of first importance of all our endeavours on entire front from Switzerland to Channel. I believe your personal attention is required in operation designed to clear entrance.”3

  Unmoved, Montgomery countered with an appreciation entitled: “Notes on Command in Western Europe: 10 October, 1944.” Mentioning Antwerp not at all, he declared the Ruhr “a definite and clear-cut military objective” that could only be won if one commander controlled both British and American forces. Either he or Bradley should command and the other be subordinate. “It may be that political and national considerations prevent us having a sound organization,” he closed. “If this is the case I would suggest that we say so. Do not let us pretend we are all right, whereas we are very far from being all right in that respect.”4

  Eisenhower responded at length. “The questions you raise are serious ones and I will discuss them later in this letter. However, they do not constitute the real issue now at hand. That issue is Antwerp.” The parlous supply state was “why I keep reverting again and again to the matter of getting Antwerp into a workable condition. I have been informed, both by the Chief of the Imperial General Staff [Brooke] and the Chief of Staff of the United States Army [George C. Marshall] that they seriously considered giving me a flat order that until the capture of Antwerp and its approaches were fully assured, this operation should take precedence over all others.” Ever since the failure of Market Garden, “I have been… ready to furnish additional troops from U.S. sources for the purpose, provided only that you desired them, and that they could be gotten up to you and supplied… I do not mean to be repeating myself about something that is well known to us both. The reason for re-stating it, however, is that the Antwerp operation does not involve the question of command in any slightest degree. Everything that can be brought in to help, no matter of what nationality, belongs to you.”5

  Army group commanders, he argued, were adequately empowered for battlefield operations, while Eisenhower’s job was to adjust the larger boundaries between army groups, assign air, ground, or airborne forces, and set supply priorities. As for the Ruhr, Eisenhower agreed a single commander should control those forces involved. But with Twenty-First Army Group’s commitments shifting westwards to help open Antwerp, it would fall to Bradley’s Twelfth Army Group to carry the main burden on this front.

  Montgomery folded. “You will hear no more on the subject of command from me. I have given you my views and you have given me your answer. That ends the matter and I and all of us up here will weigh in one hundred percent to do what you want and we will pull it through without a doubt. I have given Antwerp top priority in all operations in 21 Army Group and all energies and efforts will be now devoted towards opening up that place. Your very devoted and loyal subordinate, Monty.”6

  During this debate–ended only on October 16–First Canadian Army saw little change in its situation. It continued the Scheldt campaign with the meagre and ever diminishing strength of a single corps–II Canadian Corps. Meanwhile, I British Corps on the right wing remained directed northeast in support of British Second Army, which was not immediately turned towards opening Antwerp.

  ON THE LEOPOLD CANAL, 7th Canadian Infantry Brigade headquarters staff looked less for relief from Montgomery and his superiors than to faint hopes that the German will to fight was crumbling. On October 10, captured artillerymen had claimed “their officers held them to their gun positions at the point of a pistol and that reprisals would be inflicted on their families by the Gestapo if they surrendered. These reports left us wondering whether their high morale at the commencement of the operation had decreased, but reports from any of our people forward of [battalion] HQ very emphatically denied the fact.” Other prisoner reports held that some German forces had been withdrawn from the bridgehead area to meet 9th Canadian Infantry Brigade’s beachhead near Hoofdplaat.7

  Although the Canadian hold on the Leopold Canal bridgehead was precarious, it had taxed 64th Infantry Division’s Generalmajor Knut Eberding’s resources to the limit–forcing commitment of the reserve battalions of his three infantry regiments. Impressed by “the bravery and determination of the Canadian soldiers” there, he had still remained confident that the bridgehead could be contained indefinitely. The lull in September before First Canadian Army began its operations against the Breskens Pocket had provided time to identify potential crossing points and prepare strong fortifications for their defence. The entire canal had been ranged in by artillery so that instant and accurate fire could be ranged on any point. On October 6, 7 CIB had paddled into the heart of a well-prepared kill zone that stopped it cold. Since then, Eberding had calmly fed in reserves as needed to keep the bridgehead bottled up.

  9 CIB’S amphibious operation, however, presented a crisis. Only commitment of his divisional res
erve–held back to counter disasters–had limited the assault’s initial success.8 Eberding was a seasoned veteran. He had joined the army at nineteen in September 1914, fought in both Russia and Flanders during the Great War, and gained the rank of company commander. Discharged in 1920, he had returned to service in 1923 and by 1943 was a generalmajor. He was a tough, no-nonsense leader, and his men followed suit. Fully indoctrinated in the Hitler Youth, most had served on either the Russian, Italian, or Norwegian fronts before being rounded up (while on furlough) to join this new division’s ranks in June and July of 1944 in response to the Normandy invasion. Arriving just as the Falaise Pocket collapsed, the 64th had joined Fifteenth Army’s retreat until ordered to hold the Breskens Pocket in September.9 They had so far performed this task competently and in a manner that surprised Allied intelligence staff.

  Sustaining the Breskens Pocket defenders’ will to fight was an equal measure of training, sense of duty, fanatical patriotism, and fear of retribution. Their commanders invoked whatever combination of motivators seemed strongest at a given time. On October 7, for example, Fifteenth Army’s General der Infanterie Gustav von Zangen appealed to patriotism and duty when he stated that “overrunning the Scheldt fortifications” would enable the Allies to “land great masses of material in a large and completely sheltered harbour. With this material they might deliver a death-blow at the North German plateau and at Berlin before the onset of winter… The enemy knows that he must assault the European fortresses as speedily as possible before its inner lines of resistance are built up and occupied by new divisions. For this reason he needs Antwerp. And for this reason, we must hold the Scheldt fortifications to the end. The German people are watching us… Each additional day you deny the port of Antwerp to the enemy and to the resources that he has at his disposal will be vital.”10