by Mark Zuehlke
Right of ‘D’ Company, Major A.J. Wilson’s ‘B’ Company had covered about five hundred yards and was probably two-thirds of the way to the village without having drawn any fire. Wilson’s men were spreading out too far, the left-flank platoon drifting in that direction to maintain contact with ‘D’ company, while the right platoon doggedly stuck by the road. Suspecting the Germans were sucking the Novas into a box, Wilson decided to concentrate the company alongside the road. He sent Captain Jock Grieve to bring the reserve platoon forward, so they would have maximum firepower available when things went to hell. Sending his runner to ensure the platoon next to the road kept its alignment, Wilson set off to bring the left platoon back on line. With a signaller trotting along behind with the wireless, Wilson moved through the darkness without encountering any of his men. Although the searchlights had finally come on, in the cloudless night their beams shot straight up and did little more than cast a dim glow upon the open ground over which the North Novas were advancing. Realizing he was likely behind his platoon, Wilson was just turning about when he saw a German trench system thirty yards away. Shadows rose up and bullets riddled the signaller. A slug hit Wilson in the stomach and he collapsed.
To the front of where Wilson had fallen, ‘B’ and ‘D’ Companies approached a trench system that cut across their path. Suddenly, a long row of panzer grenadiers rose up and “shot and shouted and threw grenades like wild men.” The night exploded into bedlam. Machine guns fired from every angle. Germans were hidden in haystacks. There was a long tin-roofed barn alongside the road, next to an orchard, that concealed a row of machine guns. The orchard itself hid numerous German positions. Several dug-in tanks blasted away with main guns and machine guns, firing blind along marked lanes.
The Novas went for the nearest enemy “with bomb and butt and bayonet in one of the wildest melees ever staged.” Matson fell dead. Captain Daniel John Nicholson took command of ‘D’ Company. The wireless was out, leaving Nicholson with no way to call battalion for reinforcements. ‘B’ Company’s set was with the dead signaller lying next to the wounded Wilson. Then Nicholson was killed. All of ‘D’ Company’s officers were out of action. ‘B’ Company was similarly cut up. The men from each became badly intermixed. Men fought alone, in pairs, in little groups.
‘B’ Company’s Sergeant S.S. Hughes was the last platoon leader among the two companies to still control his men. Hughes led No. 12 Platoon towards a dug-in tank, but his PIAT man was shot down. Hughes snatched up the weapon. The platoon fought through a maze of trenches until they were in range, and then Hughes knocked the tank out with a bomb. Suddenly, panzer grenadiers swarmed the platoon. Hughes was “bowled over by a burst of wooden bullets,” and the PIAT flew into the darkness. Fortunately, none of the wooden slugs splintered as they were designed to do, so Hughes was only winded rather than pierced by multiple slivers. The 7-millimetre wooden slug was an ammunition type SS troops occasionally favoured.
As Hughes struggled to regain his breath, his men fought at point-blank range. The moment they finished eliminating this group, however, the surviving platoon members came under fire from another German tank. Hughes and his men hugged the ground, machine-gun rounds whipping through the grain around them. At a brief pause, Hughes ordered the platoon to crawl back to Bourguébus. ‘B’ and ‘D’ Companies were finished. They could only try to escape.
Major Wilson had heard the two companies fighting and dying. Two Germans walked over from the trench. When Wilson indicated his wound, they seemed surprised he was still alive. The nearest man aimed a machine-pistol and squeezed the trigger, but it jammed with a harsh clack. That gave Wilson time to draw his pistol. He shot both men dead. Another German stood in the trench and Wilson shot him down. When another popped up with a rifle, Wilson killed him, too. Then he started crawling through the wheat towards the start line.
Lieutenant Colonel Charles Petch had told Major J.A. MacDonald that his ‘C’ Company was to follow ‘D’ Company into Tilly and clear the southern portion. MacDonald had been given a map reference indicating where he would hold ‘C’ Company until the signal for its advance through ‘D’ Company was given. Reaching the designated spot, he ordered his men to dig in.
Then the shootout across the road broke out and voices started yelling, “Surrender, Canada.” A German officer, well back from the fighting, started screaming such a rapid stream of orders that he sounded crazed. Apparently the men he commanded understood his ravings, for suddenly ‘C’ Company was lashed with fire. Most of it was coming from the same long tin-roofed barn that ‘B’ Company had faced. MacDonald realized the barn was heavily fortified. Using the wireless, MacDonald asked Petch what was happening.1
Petch had no idea. There was no wireless link to ‘B’ or ‘D’ Companies. White and green signal flares had been spotted, which ‘D’ Company was to have fired once it entered Tilly.2 He instructed MacDonald to send a patrol to determine what was happening with the other companies. MacDonald thought it poor tactics to send a patrol anywhere, so he decided to carry out the reconnaissance alone.
MacDonald circled north to get around the barn. Just as he crossed the road, ‘A’ Company’s Major A.W. Jefferson appeared. The reserve company had come up against the barn and been shredded. The survivors were scattered in shell craters, hanging on grimly before the fort. “Where the hell are the other companies?” Jefferson asked. MacDonald said he was off to find out. An ominous lull had settled over the battlefield. MacDonald crept into the orchard. Slit trenches full of dead Germans were everywhere. Enemy stretcher-bearers were carrying out wounded. They ignored MacDonald. He saw no North Novas. Then a shot rang out, and a bullet ripped apart the muscle in one of his arms. MacDonald ran back to his company and told them to hold where they were. Losing blood rapidly, Mac-Donald was carried to the rear.
Jefferson was also trying to figure out the situation. It seemed ‘C’ Company was the only unit still fighting. His ‘A’ Company was scattered. Jefferson had only the headquarters section with him. That consisted of second-in-command Captain James Patrick McNeil, three signallers, and a stretcher-bearer. As Jefferson moved towards ‘C’ Company, snipers and machine guns zeroed in. McNeil was hit and the wireless set destroyed. The stretcher-bearer died trying to reach McNeil. Caught in the open, McNeil was digging at the ground with his hands when a sniper round killed him. Realizing he and the signallers would never reach ‘C’ Company alive, Jefferson made for the start line.3
Petch’s only forward contact was a ‘C’ Company signaller hiding in a shell hole with three other men. They were north of the village, he said, cut off and unable to see any other North Novas.
Dawn brought no clarity. All Petch knew was that the battalion had met disaster. The RAP was clogged with wounded. Petch’s reserve consisted of the support company. He decided to send two Bren carrier sections and a troop from 3rd Anti-Tank Regiment’s 94th Battery to the companies. The Anti-Tank Battery was equipped with M-10 self-propelled guns.
The little force dashed forth. One carrier section went straight up the road and into Tilly. There followed a great roar of gunfire and the section was “swallowed up,” as the battalion war diarist put it. An anti-tank gun fired on the fortified barn, only to be knocked out by a hidden German gun. Having failed to contact any North Novas, the small force returned to the start line.4
At 0614 hours, Petch asked Brigadier Ben Cunningham to release the Fort Garry Horse’s ‘B’ Squadron waiting to accompany the planned Highland Light Infantry advance through Tilly to Garcelles-Secqueville. Realizing that advance was moot while Tilly remained in German hands, Cunningham agreed. Major Alex Christian rolled his sixteen Shermans out and ran directly into a counterattack by 1st SS Panzer Division’s 7th Panzer Company. Having hooked around Tilly in an attempt to encircle any North Novas in the town, the Panthers caught Christian’s tanks in the open and demolished them. In a matter of minutes, eleven tanks were knocked out or in flames. Christian withdrew.5
The ‘C’ Com
pany signaller reported to Petch that he could see “at least five enemy tanks with self-propelled guns … around the village and [these] were shooting our men … with machineguns if they so much as moved.” With 9th Brigade offering no support that would “hold us in our position … the order was given by the battalion commander for those who were able to, to withdraw … Quite a large number were able to do so,” the war diarist recorded.6 The majority of these, however, came back on their own initiative, the remaining signaller unable to pass the news to more than a handful of men.
It would be several days before casualties were fully tabulated. The final tally was 139, of which 61 were killed, 46 wounded, and 32 taken prisoner.7 So many men died because many of the wounded perished either where they fell or trying to crawl unaided to safety. Since landing on D-Day, the North Novas had lost about 850 men, slightly more than their allotted normal strength.8
While the debacle had still been in play, orders had been issued for the Stormont, Dundas and Glengarry Highlanders to advance with another tank squadron to assist the Novas in taking Tilly. But then divisional headquarters ruled that no more “tanks could be committed as the remainder of the Regiment [Fort Garry Horse] might have been required … in other important operations.”9
The Glens responded with dismay to the alert at 1125 hours for an immediate advance on Tilly from Hubert-Folie. “This is indeed a mental blow and is felt by all ranks,” intelligence officer Lieutenant Reg Dixon observed. “We need a rest and refit, having been in the line since D-Day. The last rest was spent travelling and preparing for the exercise following. The men and officers are looking worn out and are very weary for the most part. This is especially a disappointment as even Jerry with his reported lack of divisions and manpower has withdrawn divisions for a refit and rest.”10
After the alert, Lieutenant Colonel G.H. Christiansen went to Petch’s headquarters. Brigadier Cunningham was already there. Petch had just refused to attack Tilly with the remnants of his battalion. Christiansen said he too would not send the Glens into an obviously doomed assault. Cunningham returned to his tactical headquarters and notified Major General Rod Keller that 9th Brigade would not further reinforce failure. Having just been instructed by Simonds to hold Tilly so that the second phase of Spring could begin, Keller warned Cunningham that he would be sacked if the brigade did not advance. “I understand that, sir,” Cunningham replied while refusing to budge.11
AS THE DISASTER at Tilly-la-Campagne played out, the Royal Hamilton Light Infantry had advanced on Verrières village. Three companies led with ‘C’ Company in reserve. Because of the thirty-minute delay resulting from the need to clear the start line, the barrage supporting the Rileys had come and gone.
‘A’ Company’s objective was the right side of Verrières. Major Jack Halladay, a Dieppe veteran, had two platoons out front. This part of Verrières was more farm than village. There were several large barns with surrounding orchards and farmhouses. A dense hedgerow blocked the line of advance, and as the company closed on it, four machine guns within started firing. Another machine gun opened up from the grain field to the right. Caught in the open, the men fell in rapidly mounting numbers. Within seconds, Halladay was the only officer standing. All platoon sergeants and section leaders had been cut down. Yet ‘A’ Company kept going, privates leading their comrades forward. “They got into the hedgerows and cleared the enemy out of there,” Halladay said after. “They killed about ten and took ten additional prisoners. This was just before dawn.”12
On the opposite flank, ‘D’ Company was also lashed by machine guns in the hedge and from a grain field to its left. Lieutenant Henry Percy Beasley was killed. All the non-commissioned officers fell dead or wounded.13 The company went to ground. Rockingham, his signaller in tow, raced to lend a hand. Major George Stinson “put his head up to show me where he was being held up from and his bloody head disappeared.”14
In the gathering light, Rockingham realized the machine guns in the grain field were actually mounted on tanks. If they rolled into the battalion’s left flank it would be a slaughter. By this time, in the battalion centre, ‘B’ Company was well ahead. Major J.L. “Johnny” Firth had lost few men because the other two companies absorbed the flanking fire. As ‘B’ Company gained the hedge, which lay about three hundred yards from Verrières, a “costly and cruel” hand-to-hand fight ensued. Firth was wounded. Intelligence reports had led the Rileys to believe the ground past the hedge would be open through to the village, but as ‘B’ Company broke free, it looked straight at another. Four successive hedges had to be stormed in turn. Then, as the regiment’s historian wrote, there came the “headlong plunge past dung heaps and cow byres to close with the enemy. There was fighting from one stone cottage with its weathered roof to another, the painful decision of crossing a lane. Then the fruit trees to the right and left, the dusty road, and finally the southern slope that was all part of Verrières, a village that had stood in tranquility for centuries and was now ruptured and half destroyed by the violence of battle.”15
Lieutenant Ernest T. Harshman, commanding No. 12 Platoon, had his leg fractured by a bullet during the first hedge fight. Harshman crawled to Verrières and helped settle his remaining men into defensive positions before agreeing to be evacuated. He was awarded a Military Cross.16
With Firth and Harshman down, No. 10 Platoon’s Lieutenant Hugh Harrison had led the fight for Verrières. Harrison ran continuously between platoons to direct the actions of each during “extremely heavy house fighting.” When the fight was won, Harrison got ‘B’ Company digging in. Everyone expected a counterattack. A Military Cross was his.17
While ‘B’ Company had fought for Verrières, Halladay had been forced by casualties at the main hedge to pause and reorganize ‘A’ Company. No. 9 Platoon counted only seven men. He broke it into two small sections under corporals and sent these to clear slit trenches dug in next to a hedge bordering the road that passed the village. The other two platoons went for the farm buildings. The few Germans there proved to be men who had fled the fight in the hedge and again took to their heels as the Rileys approached.18
On the left flank, Rockingham was still personally leading ‘D’ Company in its fight by the first hedge. Only one company officer, Lieutenant J.T. Clark, still stood and even he was wounded. Rocking-ham called up the carrier platoon and engaged the tanks with artillery to cover their advance. Shellfire having no visible effect, the tankers quickly knocked out several carriers and sent the others retreating to Troteval. Rockingham shifted the artillery onto the hedge to get rid of the machine-gun positions and called 2nd Anti-Tank Regiment’s ‘B’ Troop to deploy its 17-pounder guns at Troteval Farm and engage the tanks. After the anti-tank troop knocked out four tanks, the rest withdrew.19
With the tanks gone, Rockingham pulled the rifle companies into Verrières and established an all-round defence, as the Germans could counterattack from any direction. The original plan called for a squadron from 7th British Armoured Division’s Royal Tank Regiment and the battalion’s support company to reinforce the infantry in Verrières, but this column ran into a minefield on the road. Several vehicles were knocked out, and only a narrow passageway remained open. Rockingham demanded that jeeps and carriers come through first to evacuate his seriously wounded. Then he called up the battalion’s anti-tank guns. He put two on the southern edge of Verrières and three each on the eastern and western flanks.20
Twenty minutes later, the counterattack began. “Nine tanks roared and clattered through the long wheat toward the ridge, filling the air with splinters of steel from their machineguns.”21 The two guns facing the southern slope were knocked out, as was one on the flanks. When the tanks tried pushing into the village, the Rileys met them with PIATs. All the German tanks were Mark IVs, far more vulnerable to PIAT bombs than were Panthers or Tigers.
The tanks were blasting buildings with 75-millimetre guns and tearing up the open ground with machine guns. That was when Rockingham saw the “most ex
traordinary thing happen.”22 Private Ray Meloche of ‘B’ Company’s No. 10 Platoon crossed thirty yards of bullet-swept ground to gain a trench next to two tanks. His first round knocked one out, but then he was struck by a burst of fire. Despite being badly wounded, Meloche continued to reload and fire the awkward PIAT until the second tank withdrew. Meloche received a Military Medal for bravery.23 When another PIAT team disabled a Mark IV, the counterattack crumbled. It was 0750 hours. Rocking-ham reported that the Rileys owned Verrières. The way was open for Operation Spring’s second phase to begin on this front, with the Royal Regiment of Canada and ‘C’ Squadron of the 1st Hussars advancing from the ridge crest down the slope to Rocquancourt.
THE ROYAL REGIMENT’S advance was to coincide with that of the Black Watch, but the Calgary Highlanders had fallen into disarray from the outset of their attempt to secure the required start line by May-sur-Orne. When ‘A’ and ‘B’ Companies had swung past Saint-Martin-de-Fontenay on the right and headed into the open country with the mine works immediately to their left, they had come under machine-gun fire from the church on the southern edge of the town. This slowed their advance so much that they fell far behind the creeping barrage. When ‘A’ Company was also fired on from a nearby orchard, Major John Campbell decided to swing out to the east along the slope leading up to Verrières Ridge. His men stepped directly into an “area infested with German slit trenches and dug outs.” Campbell opted to drive past these in order to regain the barrage. This left enemy machine-gun positions and snipers behind the company and on either flank.24