by C Brazier
The Sergeant Major referred to by Colonel Henniker was ‘Daddy’ Weeks. He was known as ‘Daddy’ on account of his age and he wore on his chest the Great War ribbons. He was not in fact a GPO employee as stated, but was the foreman of the Packing Plant at the Blue Circle Cement Works from which nearly all the other ranks were recruited.
As might be imagined, it caused some surprise when, as a prelude to their new training, all ranks were put on ‘toughening and hardening’ for several weeks. It was an orgy of PT, running, long marches and games; a most enjoyable interlude before the serious business began. This phase accomplished, the company said goodbye to Ireland and re-crossed to their native land.
Then came the days of ground training in which the embryo parachutists had to learn how to make a good exit from aircraft, how to control the descent once the parachute opened and lastly to make a good landing-drill second nature. In the training school were many types of equipment especially designed to familiarize the learner with all the physical and psychological reactions to leaving an aeroplane in flight, the journey down and, finally, contact with mother earth once again. The training layout is known as the ‘circus’; rather an apt description as our party soon discovered. Split up into small ‘sticks’, each group came under an RAF instructor to practice rolling, swinging, falling and jumping from the most peculiar gadgets designed to render the trainees parachute conscious – the consensus of opinion appeared to be that it was like the funfair at Margate, only more so (much more so)!
When the learners began to get accustomed to their harness and surroundings and learnt how to fall without injuring themselves, they were introduced to Heath Robinson contrivances which looked sufficiently fearsome to inspire a fair degree of doubt but were, in fact, graduated to the physical and mental development of the students. All the time strenuous PT and lectures formed a background to produce high morale, fitness and efficiency.
Then came controlled descents in harness over short drops. The learners jumped through a hole in the floor, where the speed of going down was checked by mechanical means and the acceleration of gravity is not precisely as the text books describes.
After some weeks of ground training came the first real jump from a captive balloon. All agreed that the emotions on the upward journey were mainly centred on averting eyes from the hole in the floor. A kindly thought on the part of the designer of this outfit relieves the beginner from having to open his parachute, so he jumps out through the hole and gravity does the rest. A few seconds drop, then a tug at the shoulders and, lo and behold, he floats gently to earth!
At last came the real thing. The ‘stick’ marched to the bomber, was inspected by the Commander and entered the waiting plane. The machine took off and the chaps began to wonder what they had let themselves in for! At times they sang, then came the warning on the intercom, ‘Ready for Action’ followed, a few seconds later, by the green indicator light. One after another, in their right order and without fuss, they quickly disappeared through the hole in the Whitley bomber. At first little sensation was experienced, due to being in the slipstream of the plane, then a bit of buffeting, followed by the familiar tug at the shoulders, and lastly the descent. Once on the ground the ‘stick’ hastily detached their chutes and went straight for the containers for arms, ammunition and explosive equipment for the job in hand. The care and attention given to obtaining the greatest value for the least weight in rations and all airborne equipment would surprise most soldiers, who either walk on their feet or are transported by ground vehicles. It is a magnificent training where physical fitness and careful organization go hand in hand to ensure every chance of success in action.
Perhaps the most exciting experience in the training is the first night operation; even the approach to the familiar airfield takes on an eerie appearance with a half moon playing hide and seek between low cumulous clouds. The emplaning, now familiar enough by day, seems distorted with the heavy shadows, and the rest of the ‘stick’ look strangely awkward fellows in their kit. The customary command is followed by the revving up of engines into a roar. The take-off restores thought to the usual subjects and procedure. The flight is, of course, much the same, with the great difference that outside all is dark; the fitful moon only seems to accentuate the blackness. Then the exit into stygian gloom, anxious searching earthwards but nothing to see; down, down, it seems longer than usual, until quite suddenly they are on their feet again. Within a few seconds, numbers of the stick join each other and start their ground tasks just as though they had arrived there by any other means. The tang of the cold night air and the dew upon the ground is nature’s stimulus to quick thought and action on these occasions.
When the required number of drops had been performed the men were awarded their cherished wings and some leave. At last these lads from Kent joined the ever increasing throng of dapper young men who wear maroon berets jauntily on the side of their heads and mingle with the crowds wherever service men are to be found. Their life upon the ground is much the same as any other soldier, except for the special emphasis on the rapid exploitation of an opportunity. This entails great fitness, thorough training and an eye for the main chance.
The squadron had lectures and demonstrations of previous operations from the first raid in Italy in the attempt to destroy an aqueduct, to the Bruneval raid and later work in Tunis. Much was to be learnt and, as in all dangerous undertakings, a fine understanding between all ranks and pride of craft was developed in this new branch of the Army. It would be affectation to deny that they had solid grounds for their pride, in between time, they still sing about Mr Stevens, Windy Notchy Knight and piccanin skoff. Maybe some airborne sapper with a lyrical bent will write a verse more appropriate to his new method of arriving on the job.
There for the moment we leave the Kentish Airborne Sappers in the full assurance that, as in Tunisia, so elsewhere they will render a good account of themselves in the destruction of the King’s enemies.
Chapter Eighteen
UBIQUE
Over three years have now passed since the original Territorial Army sapper unit, whose deeds and service are recorded in the foregoing pages, embussed at their local drill hall to man their war stations in the Thames Estuary. They have added a page to the records of their Corps in carrying on in almost every theatre of war, in a manner born of the traditions of the British soldier. Time must of necessity bring changes but the spirit carries on and the unit, although now greatly diluted by reinforcements and expansion, still retains individuality even in this vast concourse of fighting men. They are carrying on their trade of lading, building and holding weapons as ordained in all theatres. A hard core of the young men who, in the early days, feared they would miss the excitement of war still remain.
One contingent formed part of the force that landed in Morocco, that vast armada that showed the world the combined sea and air power of the Allied nations. The surprise landing and fighting with Vichy elements is too recent to permit recapitulation. The airborne paratroops included representatives of the old unit too: soon no doubt, those from the east may, by chance, meet these new arrivals in the west in some mess or NAAFI and the tongues will wag to the accompaniment of such local cheer as is available.
Looking back, one is instinctively amused at our impatience during those early months when we sat in those dreary old forts, and watched the tides ebb and flow over those acres of slimy mud flats. How desperate we became to get on with it. Our lot didn’t seem good enough. We went through the various cycles of training, boredom, indignation and almost despair; so great was our self pity at the hardness of our portion and the humdrum nature of our existence. But our chance came.
While it might be argued that the foundations were laid on the barrack square, these adventures ashore and afloat have developed a fine understanding between officers and men. After all, you cannot be shipwrecked with a man, or both soaked in petrol and make your way through a burning oil plant without getting to know each other pretty well! Thi
s is something more than esprit de corps; it is confidence in each other born of experience to see the job through. This happy outcome has been a great encouragement to us all.
It is a far cry from Spitzbergen to the burning sands of Libya and from Amsterdam to Salonika. France too seems a long way off in these days, but the fact remains that war has taken those impatient young men, who a few years ago complained of the dullness of existence, and spread them far and wide.
Some are prisoners, a few are guerrilla fighters, the remainder carry on in one or other theatre of war, whilst a proportion sleep in deep waters or in foreign soil; a number wear the ribbon of some decoration.
Surely there is a moral to the story, particularly for all young soldiers who feel that life, for the time being, is in any way dull:
ALWAYS KEEP ON YOUR TOES; YOU NEVER KNOW WHAT IS JUST ROUND THE CORNER!
EPILOGUE
It is sixty-three years since the events recounted here took place. Reading it now I am struck by the feeling of the almost complete isolation that these parties faced, especially in the operations in the Low Countries. They were small groups commanded by junior officers operating completely on their own. They were landed on foreign shores where invariably the countries were in chaos and in a near state of collapse from the German blitzkrieg. They had no covering force as such, no communications to higher authority, little food if any, no provision for the evacuation of casualties, in fact no re-supply of any kind and most important of all psychologically, no return ticket. In these operations, except later on the Seine, where they were placed across the lines of communication of the British Army, no mention or provision was made for their evacuation. In those days there was no magical gadget like a helicopter to pluck them out to safety at the last moment, although the Navy, true to form, took great risks to try and get them out.
The other aspect of these operations which strikes me, as a sapper myself, was the crudeness of the equipment which was all that was available to them at that time. The serious limitations were that gun cotton slabs were always difficult to secure in a hurry, blankets soaked in kerosene to fire heavy bunker oil were the only means of ignition in some cases and first aid stretchers were all that they had to carry their demolition stores. Despite all these difficulties the will to succeed triumphed.
These operations happened at the beginning of the war. Only a year or two later plastic explosives were developed which could be wrapped around objects to be attacked, incendiary devices containing magnesium were freely available, likewise delay fuses which could be set to operate from a minute or two up to a few days. Lightweight canvas and aluminium trolleys, developed for airborne forces with drag ropes attached allowed small parties of men to move considerable loads manually.
As a matter of interest the only special provisions made for them in respect of weapons were that each section, roughly one officer to ten men, was equipped with two Boys .5-inch anti-tank rifles and about half the men had .38 revolvers as well as their rifles. Both these weapons were in critically short supply early in the war and their allocation was not ungenerous.
For those of a military background it will come as a surprise to hear that this small unit received their orders direct from the Military Operations Branch of the War Office. This must have been unique, as orders normally always come down the chain of command. This was probably due to the extreme secrecy of these operations and the speed with which they had to be set up.
The Kent Fortress was expanded in 1940, as is explained in the narrative, into Kent Corps Troops Engineers and on the disbandment of HQ 3 Corps in Northern Ireland in 1943 they became 15 GHQ Troops Engineers specializing in bridging. They bridged all the major waterways through France, the Low Countries and Germany in 1944 – 45. Second Parachute Squadron, the old Holding Company, served in North Africa and Italy and took part in the airborne landings in the south of France in 1944 and later in Greece. On demobilization nearly all the original hands returned to their roots in the cement industry. Several of the junior officers were made works managers on their return to the Blue Circle Company and, in due course, Peter Keeble became a director of the company. My father left the company and went out to Northern Rhodesia to build up and run a cement works there. He returned to England in the early 1950s and set up as a consulting engineer. He died shortly afterwards in 1959.
Grain Fort, which features in Chapter One and was the HQ of the Thames and Medway defences, was bulldozed in 1953 to make way for the building of the oil refinery on the Isle of Grain.
Attitudes in those days were less melodramatic and this was typified by remarks made in a letter from Commander Goodenough congratulating Peter Keeble on his DSO. He ended the letter thus ‘. . . after working in the Plans Division in the Admiralty the Amsterdam party was just like a paid holiday’! Commander Goodenough had received an immediate DSO.
Don Terry, the junior officer who went to Amsterdam, drove to the site of the refinery from Germany in 1945. There he met a group of middle aged women who well remembered the firing of the oil stocks. They admonished him for not giving them any warning which would have enabled them to get their washing in; it was ruined as a result!
After the war the Dutch authorities salvaged the bullion lost in the River Maas near Rotterdam. A British film was made about both its loss and recovery although the film had little to do with reality.
In Chapter Nine – ‘Robinson Crusoe’, one of the castaways, was Corporal E. Baker. He was commissioned later in the war. In 1982 he returned to Kervenny and their island refuge. The older inhabitants well remembered the incident and their local school mistress drove Baker about fifty miles to see the priest in his new parish. It was an emotional meeting, a bottle of champagne was opened and they sat down to a mini banquet. When Baker returned to Kervenny the next day, he went out to the island which was now uninhabited and the cottage derelict. The kindness of the priest in 1940 lives on in all their memories.
P.H. Brazier
Appendix I
ROLL OF HONOUR
The following men from the Kent Fortress Royal Engineers laid down their lives in the service of their country during the XD Operations in the Low Countries and France in 1940.
Corporal H.E. Ayers Lost on the Lancastria
Sapper H.W. Blackman Lost on the Lancastria
Acting Lance Corporal E.G. Brown Lost on the Lancastria
Sapper G.A.V. Haines Died in the Forest of Blain
Sapper S.J. Owen Lost on the Lancastria
Acting Lance Corporal E.E. Plummer Lost on the Lancastria
Sapper S.J. Ruck Lost on the Lancastria
Lance Corporal Shute Lost on the Lancastria
Sapper A.H. Wells Killed in Action, Boulogne
Appendix II
HONOURS AND AWARDS
(For the operations in the Low Countries and France)
Plate 27 is a newspaper cutting from the Gravesend and Dartford Reporter listing the honours and awards. As the local paper, it was natural that they should show great pride in the exploits of their local Territorial Unit. Not mentioned on this list was the MC awarded to Second Lieutenant B.J Ashwell for his exploits at St Malo as he was not a local man.
What is of interest is that my father recommended Keeble, Goodwin and Buxton for MCs and these were approved by the Director of Military Operations. This fact is in the National Archives (formerly the Public Record Office). Churchill, who had only just become Prime Minister, had, up to May 1940, been First Lord of the Admiralty and during that time had become very concerned about the oil stocks in the Low Countries falling into enemy hands. It is understood that when he was informed of these successful operations he was greatly relieved. He sent for a report and having read it, put a pen through Keeble, Goodwin and Buxton’s citations and deleted MC and wrote DSO across them. It must be appreciated that these junior officers not only showed great leadership but in all cases they had the heavy responsibility of carrying out their instructions despite opposition in many cases from very reluctan
t and difficult senior Allied commanders.
Appendix III
PROPOSALS FOR THE DESTRUCTION OF BULK OIL STORAGE INSTALLATIONS
It is understood that as early as 1939 concern over the fate of the oil supplies in the Low Countries was expressed in Whitehall. First thoughts were to hand over their destruction to the RAF should it become necessary. Tests were carried out with practice bombs on areas laid out to simulate these targets. The results were very disappointing. At that stage in the war bomb sights were extremely inaccurate and the bombs could not be dropped with anything like the necessary precision. Therefore there was no alternative but to employ ground parties to undertake this task.