Breakout from Juno

by Mark Zuehlke

  Meyer knew the Canadians “were the northern claw of the encircling pincer; the southern claw was formed by the Americans at Argentan. The death struggle of the two German armies would begin as soon as the two claws met.” Meyer did not expect to keep these pincers prized apart for long.39

  AT 2300 HOURS on August 13, Major General Charles Foulkes held an Orders Group in a farmhouse to the east of Barbery. Tractable’s impending launch heightened the urgency of 2nd Division’s drive to the high ground overlooking Falaise from the west. It now fell to Brigadier Hugh Young’s 6th Infantry Brigade to complete the task by pushing through the narrow bridgehead the Calgary Highlanders had won at Claire-Tison.

  Reconnaissance parties reported the bridgehead “was a very weak one and covered a front of some 200 yards.” Because of heavy casualties the brigade had suffered to date, Young worried about having so many “untrained” troops passing through the Calgaries in the dark. He figured the odds of soldiers getting muddled and scattered were high. There was also potential for a friendly-fire incident. “As this was a night attack it was necessary that the plan be very simple,” he decided. Instead of worrying about the Calgary bridgehead, the battalions would line up on the river’s western bank opposite their respective objectives. Patrols would then cross and establish small bridgeheads through which the attacking companies would advance.

  The Cameron Highlanders would be on the right and bound for the village of La Cressonnière. In the centre, South Saskatchewan Regiment’s objective was Point 176, about a half-mile from the river and next to the Saint-Lô–Falaise road. On the left flank, Fusiliers Mont-Royal would win a “small wood and orchard directly north” of the Sasks.40 The Fusiliers were so reduced by casualties they were organized into two small companies. Zero hour was 0400 hours. Support from the Sherbrookes would be available only after dawn and depended on tanks being able to cross the Clair-Tison bridge. Young had also teed up substantial artillery.

  When the barrage started, the Sasks advanced, Lieutenant Colonel Fred Clift and the company commanders guiding by compass. The men waded the shallow stream and then ran “to try and keep up with the barrage.”41 Moving unerringly through orchards, the battalion gained its objective despite “stiff resistance.”42 By the time the mist lifted around 0800 hours, the battalion was dug in. After some difficulty finding a navigable path through Clair-Tison, the supporting tanks, 2nd Anti-Tank Regiment’s 17-pounders, and battalion support company carriers and anti-tank guns arrived.

  On the right, the Camerons had a new battalion commander, Lieutenant Colonel A.S. Gregory, formerly of the Regina Rifles. Their attack progressed smoothly, and by dawn the village was secure.43

  The Fusiliers met stiff resistance as they emerged from the low brush bordering the river and entered an open field. Heavy fire drove them back. After Major Georges White reorganized the two companies, they made another crossing at 0700. Despite heavy fire from both flanks, they gained a foothold in the orchard and occupied a small farm building. White counted only sixty-nine “fighting men” left. These hung on until German infantry counterattacked with two tanks in support at 1430 hours. Having nothing to match the tanks, the Fusiliers withdrew. Men crawled through ditches in the field and then dashed across the three-foot-deep Laize.44 Some were taken prisoner. Lieutenant Pierre Bazin and twenty-six men were killed. About sixty men were evacuated with wounds.45

  As the mist had lifted that morning, both the Saskatchewan and Cameron positions were counterattacked behind a screen of heavy 88-millimetre and mortar fire. At one point the Cameron anti-tank platoon manhandled one 6-pounder to where it could engage a tank from two hundred yards. Two shots set the tank on fire and killed two of its crew.46 During lulls between counterattacks, the shell and mortar fire increased in intensity. Yet neither regiment suffered many casualties.

  With these two battalions well dug in on excellent fighting positions, there was consternation when Young ordered a limited withdrawal by the most forward companies to ensure that they were not exposed to the heavy bombing attack supporting Tractable. This withdrawal was to occur at 1400 hours.47

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  The Mad Charge

  LIEUTENANT GENERAL HARRY Crerar’s rallying cry on August 14 was: “Hit him first, hit him hard and keep on hitting him. We can contribute in major degree to speedy Allied victory by our action today.”1

  Sitting in a Sherman to the east of Soignelles, Captain Jim Tedlie, the newly arrived battle captain of British Columbia Regiment’s ‘C’ Squadron, had never seen so many tanks. “Visualize a mass of tanks, sponson to sponson, just a phalanx of armour. It was a beautiful sunny day. No clouds in the sky.”2 Tedlie’s squadron commander was Major Jack Worthington, Lieutenant Colonel Don Worthington’s younger brother. He and Major Jack Toogood of ‘B’ Squadron were the regiment’s last original senior commanders. Lieutenant Colonel C.E. “Chuck” Parish was new, as was ‘A’ Squadron’s Major Jack Austin. A lot of new men had been required to fill the Dukes’ diminished ranks after Worthington Force’s destruction.3

  “Each column resembled a solid block of steel,” wrote Algonquin Regiment’s Major P.A. Mayer. “First were the Flails … whose task it was to clear the mines in the path of the advance.” Next in 4th Division’s sector were the Governor General’s Foot Guards and Canadian Grenadier Guards “formed … in four lines with … tanks track to track.” Behind the Guards were the Dukes’ Shermans and then the Lake Superior Regiment’s armoured cars. Then came 8th Infantry Brigade’s regiments loaded into Kangaroos and half-tracks. The column was “an immaculate formation … presenting a formidable sight.”4

  “Seemed to be tanks as far as one could see,” newly promoted 1st Hussars Major Brandy Conron observed. To his left were the tanks of 4th Division. On his right, the Fort Garry Horse stood in line alongside the Hussars at the head of 3rd Division’s column.5 Behind the tankers, Stormont, Dundas and Glengarry Highlander Sergeant Doug Conklin sat uncomfortably in a Kangaroo. Unprotected from the searing sun, the dozen men were sweat-drenched. Conklin and most of the others also suffered from dysentery, due to poor sanitary conditions, which attained epidemic proportions in the ranks shortly after the new divisions advanced into the hot, dusty country south of Caen.6

  At 1137 hours, artillery fired shells to identify targets for the medium bombers. Three minutes later, Brigadier Leslie Booth of 4th Armoured Brigade “broke the suspense and stillness of the wireless silence with the words, ‘Move now.’” The tanks rolled forward “to begin the most daring and spectacular advance in Canadian military history.”7

  “All hell broke loose,” the Grenadiers’ historian wrote. “The whole earth trembled with the rattle of a thousand vehicles and the shock of gun recoil and discharge. The acrid air throbbed with the hum of engines and the explosion of all manner of screaming missiles. An incomprehensible range of reverberating vibrations struck upon the senses with confused and bewildering beat. The eyes were dimmed by dust and smoke until only the sights of the gun and the red disc of the sun could be seen through the quivering misty veil.

  “For the first two minutes the original formation was maintained, but before the first half mile a concertina movement developed on account of minor bottlenecks caused by bomb craters, a sunken road, and other irregularities of the terrain. Then all were running blindly forward with pedals to the floor, in mixed groups of Grenadiers, Foot Guards and Churchills [79th British Armoured Division support tanks]. In five minutes we were through the outposts and in an area where Mark IV tanks, S.P. [self-propelled] guns, mortars and German infantry were thick on the ground awaiting our attack.”8

  “This is perhaps the only time in the war on the western front in Europe,” Conron wrote, “where eight squadrons in the van, followed by four more squadrons, went roaring across country to overwhelman impregnable anti-tank screen by sheer weight of numbers. As the tanks went crashing through obstacles at top speed they were continually confronted by … anti-tank guns behind each hedge. Invariably one or more tank
s became casualties, but most of the guns were run down as the advance pushed on … For three to five miles the path was marked with burning tanks. Tanks crossed the start-line in line abreast—160 tanks in the first wave followed closely by a second wave of 90 tanks.”9

  “As soon as we crossed the start line, we churned up the most amazing clouds of dust,” Tedlie said, “and that, coupled with the smoke that had been laid on our flanks to screen us … made the fog of battle … very real.” Tedlie directed two ‘C’ Squadron troops to fire on earlier-identified German gun positions while the tanks were moving. Dozens of Germans spilled from them with arms raised. Tedlie stood in the turret, pointing an arm imperiously towards the rear as the Shermans churned past.10

  On the far right, the Fort Garry Horse enjoyed “a great run over open country.”11 Blinded by smoke and billowing dust, the 1st Hussars’ ‘A’ Squadron strayed to the left, almost mixing into 4th Division’s column. “The speed of the attack over rough, uneven ground, which kept ammunition continually falling out of its racks, made it impossible to read a map,” Conron noted.

  Suddenly, two Tiger tanks fired on the straying squadron. Sergeant Arthur Boyle knocked one out with a shot from his 17-pounder tank, but the second Tiger hit Lieutenant Curtis Cole’s Sherman. Cole and Trooper Gordon Linstead were killed. Another 1st Hussar Firefly fired back and silenced the Tiger.

  All four tanks of ‘A’ Squadron’s No. 3 Troop mired in an anti-tank ditch. Firing from these “stationary positions,” they knocked out several German half-tracks, a small car, and six anti-tank guns before running out of targets.

  Opposite ‘A’ Squadron, ‘C’ Squadron “swept” into an anti-tank screen. Squadron commander Captain Hugh Stanley Brydges was passing a hedge when an infantryman chucked a grenade into his turret hatch. When Brydges grabbed the grenade to throw it clear, it exploded and killed him. His body absorbed the blast, which likely saved his crew.

  When a 75-millimetre shell penetrated Sergeant Roy Graham Lilley’s turret, he was mortally wounded. The dying man traversed the gun from where it blocked the front hatch, enabling his crew to escape.

  Because the two leading squadrons had strayed off course, ‘B’ Squadron reached the Laison River at Rouvres ahead of them. This squadron had destroyed a battery containing eight 105-millimetre field guns and six 88-millimetre anti-tank guns. It also bagged a huge haul of prisoners. Sergeant Leo Gariépy, his gun disabled, escorted 342 Germans to the rear.12

  “To an enemy already deafened by shell and bomb blast and mystified by the dense smoke, the situation presented by the appearance of massed armour left no alternative but surrender, and this they did in large bewildered numbers as the advance continued,” one Canadian report commented.13

  “The first four hundred yards out,” Major Hershell Smith of the Grenadiers’ No. 3 Squadron recalled, “lots of casualties happened. We pushed through … a wheat field. There were copses of trees and open areas. Anti-tank guns in the copses and you’re going through the hole between but there are so many [tanks] coming. And there was just a hail of bullets being thrown at them. Knock out one or five, but there’s 250 more [German infantry]. Germans running across the field and it’s middle of summer and they’ve got their great coats on … I’m on the left-hand boundary of the whole thing. I’m over the boundary line and lost … There was confusion. There was dust. The sun, you couldn’t see the sun. It was a ball up there in the dust … It was wild. We were just running. Tanks were on fire. And people were firing every direction.” Smith’s squadron descended into the valley, off course, and came to Ernes about one and a half miles east of the objective of Maizières. Smith spotted a battery of 88-millimetre guns on the edge of the village. “It was mayhem for a while” as the tankers destroyed the guns.

  Then Smith saw three Germans push another anti-tank gun from behind trees. Two of the men ran back to the wood while the third stared over the sight, barrel pointed directly at Smith’s tank. He shouted at his gunner, slewed the turret around, and tried to lay the 75-millimetre onto the anti-tank gun before it could fire. Smith was in a race already lost. The gun on the tank next to his flashed, and the anti-tank gun disappeared in an explosion. Smith looked over at the corporal commanding the Sherman, waved his thanks.14

  “IN LESS THAN an hour, the splendid ceremonial array of the forenoon had degenerated into a heterogeneous mass pouring down the smoke-filled valley against a current of prisoners streaming to the rear.”15 The steep, heavily wooded valley caused further disorganization as drivers struggled to control plunging vehicles and avoid striking trees. At 1330 hours, the first tanks reached the river.16

  The Laison was six feet wide and about two feet deep. Assuming bridges would be blown, the plan relied on special 79th Armoured Division tanks called Fascines creating crude crossings by dumping the great bundles of brushwood they carried into the river. Slower and clumsier, however, the Fascines were a full hour behind the columns’ heads.17 In the meantime, tankers and reconnaissance regiments “raced up and down the banks … to find suitable crossing places.”

  At Ernes, the Grenadiers’ Major Smith discovered “the somewhat crumbling remnants of a small bridge,” and No. 3 Squadron began crossing.18 Over the wireless, No. 1 Squadron’s Major Ned Amy reported being hopelessly lost. Smith fired a flare to guide Amy’s squadron to Ernes. “You can’t read a map worth a damn,” Smith teased. Soon both squadrons were across the river.

  This left the Grenadiers split—one part at Ernes, the other, consisting of No. 2 Squadron and acting regimental commander Major Doug Hamilton’s headquarters troop, stuck at Maizières. Lieutenant Colonel Bill Halpenny had been ordered LOB, so Hamilton was in charge. Tanks and infantry carriers were piling into the village, and Hamilton saw no sign of anyone with authority to assign crossing priority. He was unable to raise Brigadier Leslie Booth on the wireless. The Tractable plan had the Grenadiers crossing the river and advancing to Point 159, “the highest point overlooking Falaise.” Instead of unleashing Smith and Amy, Hamilton ordered them to wait for him “on the rising ground a mile southeast of Rouvres.”19

  Once again Booth’s tactical headquarters was off the air, but not due to his being drunk. Instead, it had strayed from the column and been ambushed by several 88-millimetres. Booth’s command tank suffered a direct hit. From another Sherman, Brigade Major Gerry Chubb saw the artillery officer pile out of the turret, followed by Booth, “who fell behind the tank and sortof half sat up on the ground.” Chubb ran over. “They have got me,” Booth said. “Balls,” Chubb replied, before seeing that Booth’s “foot had been shot off.” Chubb applied a tourniquet and then “called up … a tank … threw Booth’s body on the back deck and told the [artillery officer] to get him the hell out of there which he did … At this point we were out of all wireless communication with the rear of the brigade.”

  A jeep ambulance happened by, and Booth was transferred into the care of its stretcher-bearers. Bleeding heavily despite the tourniquet, Booth soon died, and his body was unloaded by the roadside to make room for two other wounded men. Wearing black tanker coveralls lacking a brigadier’s red tabs, the body went undiscovered until the following day, fuelling rumours that Booth was somewhere in the medical evacuation chain.20

  Word of Booth’s loss spread haphazardly through the brigade. Lieutenant Colonel Murray Scott of the Foot Guards heard the news upon reaching the riverbank. Scott’s command tank had been wrecked during the charge by an anti-tank shell. Despite having his leg broken, Scott had commandeered another tank and carried on. The senior surviving officer, Scott assumed brigade command and ordered the advance continued. As all brigade communications equipment had been destroyed in Booth’s tank, Scott was incapable of communicating beyond his own regimental net because signals to the other regiments or to division would have been routed through the fallen brigadier’s network.21 This left Major General George Kitching and Lieutenant General Guy Simonds in the dark as to the status of 4th Armoured Brigade.

  Lack
ing direction from above, the other two tank regiments and Lake Superiors went their own way. As the Grenadier Guards’ Major Jim Munro described it, the Superiors had shown “all sorts of battle courage.” They “were an efficient, fast-striking force of skilled infantrymen. They were heavily tracked—their carriers looked like battleships—and they had every weapon they could get on them. They were over-sized, over-strength and very tough guys—just great to work with.”

  Lieutenant Colonel Robert Keane displayed this kind of courage when some Superiors stalled before a trench held by German infantry. Jumping from his command vehicle, Keane strode up and shot two dead. That produced the desired surrender.22 By the time Keane arrived at Rouvres, the Fascines were in place, but both the group of Grenadiers and the entire Foot Guard regiment were jockeying before them. With the column stalled in the village, German artillery and mortar fire was picking off growing numbers of men and vehicles. Get moving or be shot to pieces, Keane decided. Ordering the men out of the carriers, Keane led them in chucking rubble from ruined buildings into the river. Over this “rubble crossing,” they gained the south bank.23

  At Montboint on the western flank, the Fort Garry Horse also found only destroyed bridges. With 88-millimetre shells “cutting down good sized trees by the road,” the tankers were frantic to keep moving. ‘C’ Squadron dismounted and used logs to brace and create decking on one wrecked bridge. Lieutenant Colonel Ronald Morton, meanwhile, struck out eastward. At a burning château, Morton discovered a little bridge completely intact. “All was quiet here and the beautiful summer day seemed almost sinister in its stillness.” Realizing there were no Germans across the river, he summoned the regiment and then notified 2nd Brigade of the bridge. As ‘A’ and ‘B’ Squadrons funnelled across it, ‘C’ Squadron passed over their log-improved bridge. It was 1630 hours, the way clear form ounted infantry.24