Breakout from Juno

by Mark Zuehlke

  Megill was a Permanent Force officer, who had held a variety of staff positions before assuming command of the Algonquin Regiment in June 1943. The following February, he had been promoted to head 5th Brigade.15 The t hirty-seven-year-old was a solid soldier, not easily rattled.

  His concerns, however, grew as preparations continued through July 24. When he sent a couple of headquarters staff officers to establish a tactical headquarters in Saint-André, they picked a suitable-looking house, opened the front door, and heard voices speaking German. Discreetly exiting, they reported to Megill. He decided to inspect the situation personally. With Lieutenant Colonel Norman Ross wounded, Major John Muncie commanded the Camerons. Muncie confessed that his battalion was still fighting for control of Saint-André and had no presence in Saint-Martin at all. Although trying to clear the start line for the Calgaries, the Camerons were under constant tank, mortar, and artillery fire, while finding Germans immediately infiltrating back into any areas they cleared. Muncie thought the Camerons would prevail, but Megill was doubtful.

  At 1600 hours, the Camerons cobbled together a composite force to secure the start line by merging ‘B’ and ‘D’ Companies, which gained a strength equivalent to two normal platoons. Major R.H. Lane commanded. ‘A’ Company’s Lieutenant D. Rogers led one platoon, Lieutenant Stanley Anthony Chopp the other. The moment the force crossed the highway, it came under heavy fire.

  By 2300 hours, a fierce fight was on in Saint-Martin. Small-arms fire wounded Lane in the neck and shoulders. Then Chopp was killed.

  The Camerons were to have secured the 5th Brigade start line by midnight. But it was 0100 hours when the attack stalled e ntirely. Major E.P. Thompson and two lieutenants rushed to the scene with seventy-five men drawn from the carrier section, scout platoon, a few men of ‘B’ Company, and two sections of ‘C’ Company. Soon the Camerons gained Saint-Martin’s southern outskirts and started digging in, with the iron mine to their front. Then Captain J.E.E. McManus reported that the Black Watch was to occupy this forward position and they should withdraw to the church in the village centre. The Camerons duly pulled back into a series of deep slit trenches recently abandoned by the Germans.16 McManus’s information was faulty. No provision for a hand-off to the Black Watch existed, so the start line for the Calgary Highlanders remained in German hands.

  WELL LEFT OF Saint-Martin, Les Fusiliers Mont-Royal had started gearing up in the late afternoon to attack Beauvoir and Troteval Farms. The Germans were firmly ensconced at Troteval. But because the Fusiliers were dug in just four hundred yards from Beauvoir, they had prevented the enemy from establishing a tight hold on this farm. A small force comprised of ‘A’ Company and a carrier section platoon was tasked to secure Beauvoir. Lieutenant Colonel Guy Gauvreau expected the farm to fall quickly.17

  Troteval was a harder nut. The farm was surrounded by a high wall with an orchard in the southern half and gardens the north. The farmhouse and adjacent courtyard were in the centre but backed against the eastern side of the enclosure. Wheat fields stretched in every direction. Earlier patrols had identified its garrison as consisting of two infantry platoons supported by six tanks. The Germans had circled the farm with a hastily laid necklace of anti-personnel and anti-tank mines thrown on the ground and concealed with loose piles of hay. At night they would be difficult to spot. This was especially true for the carrier crews and supporting tankers of the Sherbrooke Fusiliers’ ‘B’ Squadron.

  The Fusiliers were hard pressed to assemble enough men for the new assault. To hold their position north of Beauvoir it had been necessary to put “cooks and drivers … in the trenches.”

  As neither of the two surviving companies numbered more than fifty men, Gauvreau told Major Jacques Dextraze to cherry-pick seventy-five men from anywhere in the battalion. Dextraze organized these into three twenty-five-man platoons. To compensate for lack of numbers, he equipped the company with eighteen Bren guns rather than the normal nine. Each platoon also had two PIAT teams. All section leaders carried a Sten gun. Only those acting as loaders for the Bren and PIAT gunners carried rifles. To help the gunners steady themselves when firing from the hip or while running, the Brens were fitted with shoulder slings.

  Dextraze planned to hit fast and light. The men carried only their weapons, skeleton web gear, a ground sheet with a tin of bully beef and hardtack rolled inside, two Type 36 grenades, and fifteen Bren magazines.

  The tank squadron would cover the flanks as Dextraze led the men towards the farm. They would go in behind a creeping barrage fired by one field and one medium regiment. Offering closer fire support was a Cameron Highlanders of Ottawa 4.2-inch mortar platoon. The battalion’s 3-inch mortars covered the approaches from Verrières village. Going into the attack with Dextraze was Captain A. Britton Smith, the 4th Field Regiment FOO who had narrowly escaped Troteval on July 21.18

  Ready to advance behind the Fusiliers was the Royal Hamilton Light Infantry scout platoon. Once the Fusiliers took the farm, its task was to mark with white tape the boundary of the start line. This would enable the infantry companies to precisely situate themselves in the dark.19

  Dextraze formed his men in a wheat field one thousand yards north of the farm. When the two forward platoons gained Troteval, they would encircle it from opposite directions. The reserve platoon would then push in at the northwest corner, while the forward platoons provided covering fire from the flanks.

  At 2000 hours, Dextraze signalled his men forward. They “moved very close, only seventy-five yards from our barrage, taking the chance, in this case luckily, that no one would be hit. My appreciation was that there were so many men in the farm that if my force of seventy-five had been 300 yards behind the barrage, the force … would have had time to reorganize in such strength as to prevent us from seizing and holding the farm,” Dextraze later said.

  The Fusiliers covered eighty yards a minute. As they came up on the farm at 0215, they met fire from machine guns dug in at the corners of the walled compound, and several men fell. German infantry scattered about in the fields also opened up with ineffective rifle fire. Dextraze realized the majority of the enemy had withdrawn into the fields to avoid the artillery barrage. Because the advance was so quick, the Fusiliers had gained the farm before they could return. The Bren gunners sprayed long bursts into the fields. This seemed to panic the Germans, causing many to flee. Some ran away without helmets or weapons. “Jerry is no good at night,” Dextraze noted.

  Artillery had blown holes in the walls and most buildings, so the Fusiliers easily entered the compound. They encountered snipers firing from trees in the orchard, some of whom had tied themselves into the branches. The Fusiliers closed in and shot them—their bodies were left dangling.

  Although the German tanks attempted a stand in the dark, they were vulnerable to the PIAT gunners.20 One man on the hunt was Private Amedee Joseph Philippe Thibault. As the tanks came in, Thibault opened fire with a PIAT. Although his accurate fire failed to knock out any Panzers, the rapidity of shots striking their armoured skins convinced the tankers to withdraw. Thibault was awarded a Military Medal.21

  Adding to the PIAT bombs hammering the German tanks was Corporal Paul Lebrun. The senior non-commissioned officer in his platoon, Lebrun had taken over command when its officer was killed. He led the platoon in clearing out the machine-gun positions at the corners of the wall before taking personal control of a PIAT and going at the tanks. His Military Medal citation declared that Lebrun’s “actions throughout the night were fine examples of bravery, coolness, and leadership.”22

  Although FOO Captain Smith had accompanied the Fusiliers, he never made it to the farm. Riding in the artillery Bren carrier, Smith recognized the trench in which he had buried his binoculars on July 21. When he directed his driver, Bombardier Christopher May, towards it, the carrier struck a mine. May was killed and Smith was blown out of the vehicle. Smith turned a complete somersault before slamming down in the tall wheat. The flash of the explosion immediately attracted th
e fire of four machine guns, which raked the wrecked carrier and nearby grain. Smith’s two signallers were unhurt. Despite realizing that one of his legs was badly broken, Smith crawled quickly along with the signallers to get about fifty yards away from the machine gun’s line of fire.

  One of the signallers gave Smith a shot of morphine and then used a rifle for a splint. Smith asked if his leg was truly broken. “Between the ankle and knee, shards of bone are sticking through the skin,” the man answered. Smith was also bleeding from several wounds, particularly one from a bullet that had pierced the muscle in his upper back during the crawl to safety. Several field dressings were required to staunch all the blood flowing from his body. Eventually, a field ambulance evacuated Smith.23

  Once the Fusiliers finished clearing the farm, Dextraze abandoned it for German trenches fifty yards distant. He had too few men to defend Troteval against a counterattack. At 0200 hours, he received orders to withdraw north of the farm because it was to be shelled in an attempt to drive off the German tanks still sniffing around. Four had taken up position southwest of the farm and another two were stationed to the southeast. Dextraze ordered his men to hunker in the trenches. He figured they were safer there than moving in the open. The fire rolled harmlessly past the Fusiliers and out to where the German tanks were. Although the fire drove off the tanks, Dextraze did not think any were damaged. At 0300 hours, he received orders to fall back on Gauvreau’s position. The Royal Hamilton Light Infantry were expected to take over the farm, and their scouts were already laying tape there. Dextraze left thinking the clearing of the start line for the Rileys well completed.24

  When Dextraze returned to the battalion area, intelligence officer Maurice Gravel observed he had “very few men left.”25 Since July 20, the Fusiliers counted seventeen officers and 128 other ranks either killed or wounded.

  THREE CANADIAN BATTALIONS moved towards start lines in the hour before the assault was to begin at 0330 hours. It was a clear, moonless night. The rains of the past few days had ceased, leaving the ground muddy underfoot. A warm breeze carried the raw scent of rotting flesh down from the ridges. Strewn across its gentle slopes, the corpses of those killed during Operation Atlantic lay where they had fallen. Hundreds of dead cattle and other livestock had also been caught in the murderous artillery that had drenched this disputed landscape.

  At Troteval Farm, the Royal Hamilton Light Infantry’s Lieutenant Hugh Hinton and his six scouts worked under fire from mortars and tanks to tape the start line. They crawled through waist-high wheat. The engine noise of the lurking Panzers and loud talking of the tankers covered any sounds they made. Taping was time consuming. Two scouts would crawl in opposite directions until they were about twenty yards apart. Then they stopped, listened. If there were no signs either man had been detected, Hinton came forward and reeled the tape from one to the other. Then the man to the east would join them and the little party would repeat the process, working steadily westward. They were almost at the western edge when a Panzer’s shadowy bulk appeared. A moment later, the tank started spraying the field with its machine gun. That was it for further taping. Hinton led his scouts back to guide the companies forward and warn Lieutenant Colonel John “Rocky” Rockingham that the start line was not secure.26

  This news hardly surprised the thirty-three-year-old Rocking-ham, who had only returned to the battalion on July 18 from a staff college course in England. As Lieutenant Colonel Denis Whitaker had been wounded four days earlier, Rockingham was leading the Rileys.27 Rockingham was being groomed for brigade command. He was a tough, pragmatic, clear-thinking soldier. Leaving the Fusiliers to secure the start line barely an hour before the attack had struck Rockingham as “a bit risky.” Now the Rileys would have to fight just to get in place for the attack. His attack plan called for an advance with three companies forward—‘B’ in the centre, ‘A’ to the right, and ‘D’ plus No. 15 Platoon from ‘C’ to the left. The rest of ‘C’ Company was to be in reserve, with the carrier platoon providing flank protection and the mortar platoon laying down covering fire. Rockingham passed word for Captain Robert Gordon Hunter’s ‘C’ Company to move out front and secure the start line.

  “Stomachs turned and flesh tightened in the forward companies as they saw the reserve pass through their ranks in the dark of night. It was a disconcerting sight for a battalion inexperienced in battle and the final confirmation that something had gone wrong,” the regiment’s historian observed. So that ‘C’ Company could do its work, Rockingham received permission to delay the assault for thirty minutes. The Rileys would go for Verrières at 0400 hours.28

  Hunter led his two rifle platoons and headquarters section to the wheat field next to Troteval Farm. There were tanks on both the western and eastern sides of the field, but Hunter considered those to the east the greater threat. He sent two PIAT teams crawling through the wheat to engage them. When the PIAT teams opened fire, they scored two direct hits. Although neither knocked out a tank, the Panzers withdrew to higher ground southwest of the farm. From here they blazed away with machine guns, but it was clear they were firing blind.

  Having seen off the tanks, Hunter sent patrols into the farm to clear it of snipers. They reported the farm vacated. No sooner had the patrols returned when the rest of the battalion arrived and went straight into their attack.29

  Sending Hinton’s scouts in behind the Fusiliers had yielded the unintended result of alerting the Rileys to the necessity of winning their start line. Having done so, they now attacked in a well-organized formation. Neither the Calgary Highlanders to their right nor the North Nova Scotia Highlanders out to the left were as fortunate.

  THE CALGARIES HAD formed up at 0130 hours “under terrific mortar and shell fire … and to add to the almost demoralizing sound of all this noise, the Hun sent a number of planes over and bombed and strafed surrounding points. Great fires were seen burning in … Vaucelles and our own guns beat out a blood-curdling rhythm,” the battalion war diarist wrote. Lieutenant Colonel Donald MacLauchlan was fatigued and edgy. Like Rockingham, he doubted the start line was secure despite assurances by the Camerons that “all was well.”

  MacLauchlan had intended to advance two companies forward from the start line on the Saint-André–Hubert-Folie road, immediately east of Saint-André. Major John Campbell’s ‘A’ Company was to be on the left and Major Cyril Nixon’s ‘B’ Company the right. As the Calgaries marched from Hill 67, MacLauchlan decided on the fly to put ‘C’ Company up front as well and advance it straight down the road running from Saint-André into May-sur-Orne. ‘A’ and ‘B’ Companies would move through open country to bypass Saint-Martin to the east, while ‘C’ Company would brush past its outskirts to the west.

  As word was passed through the battalion, MacLauchlan learned that ‘D’ Company’s Captain Del Harrison and his headquarters section had become lost. Captain Sandy Pearson took over the company, which now formed the battalion’s only reserve. Harrison’s going missing, the Calgary’s intelligence officer noted, caused MacLauch-lan “great worry” and confusion. There was “no question,” he later wrote, “ but that 10 years were added to his life during these first hours of the attack.”30

  At 0330 hours, the Calgaries crossed the start line and headed for May, about fourteen hundred yards distant. They had two hours to reach and clear the village before dawn. This timing was critical, for at dawn (approximately 0530 hours) the Black Watch would advance on Fontenay-le-Marmion. That advance was to begin from a start line behind a road running northeast from May.31

  The three leading companies immediately came under heavy machine-gun fire, the greatest volume hitting ‘A’ and ‘B’ Companies originating from an orchard next to a church on the southeast edge of Saint-Martin. ‘C’ Company, meanwhile, found itself fired at from behind by Germans in Saint-André. With a dawning horror, the Calgaries realized that the Camerons had totally failed to clear the start line and they were exposed to fire from all sides.32

  ON THE FAR left f
lank of II Canadian Corps, the North Nova Scotia Highlanders had blundered through the darkness and managed to form up on their start line at 0230 hours. “It had been a desperate move in the dark,” the regiment’s historian wrote. “There was much confusion and it was difficult to find the way.” Adding to the confusion, the battalion was bombed by the Luftwaffe. Several men were wounded, including Captain Bob Graves of ‘C’ Company. The companies became badly disorganized as men sought cover from the bombs. Still, they were in place ahead of time and found the start line fully secured.33

  From the start line in front of Bourguébus, Lieutenant Colonel Charles Petch planned to advance three companies forward. They would guide on a rough track running to the objective of Tilly-la-Campagne. ‘D’ and ‘B’ Companies would be east of the track and ‘C’ Company west of it. Their way was to be illuminated by searchlights.34 Petch had argued against the night attack and had no faith in Monty’s Moonlight. His concerns had been brushed aside. It was “insisted that the searchlights would be excellent and the artificial moonlight all that was desired.”

  Ten minutes before 0330 hours, the artillery smashed the small woods to the south and east of Tilly. Then, as the Novas crossed the start line, the guns shifted to the German trenches in front of the village. The advance of about a thousand yards would take twenty minutes. Just before the Novas reached the edge of the village, the artillery would swing onto an orchard immediately northeast of Tilly and also box the village itself. The Novas went into the attack blind. Not a single searchlight beam stabbed the night. Only the flash of exploding shells lit their way.35

  [ 14 ]

  Violence of Battle

  AS THE THREE battalions crossed their start lines, it became obvious that the German main line of resistance anchored on Verrières Ridge. Canadian and British intelligence had badly miscalculated, and every battalion paid the price. Although not required to fight for its starting point, the North Nova Scotia Highlanders advanced into ground devoid of cover and were immediately zeroed in on by German artillery. ‘D’ Company’s Lieutenant Don MacLellan fell wounded. Fearing this platoon might waver, Major Cecil Matson rushed to lead its men forward. Shrinking from the shells, the troops drifted into an ever-widening line.