Looking at my watch I saw that it was two thirty. My deviation from my own plan had made us slightly late. I signalled for them to follow me and led them across the road towards the railway line. I would risk using the line as the most direct route to our rendezvous. Of course it was inevitable that we would run into a train. We had heard none the night before but this night there was one. It was heading along our line towards Dieppe. Sound travels a long way at night and we had plenty of opportunity to hide in the culvert which ran alongside the line. We lay face down and I doubted that we would be seen. It seemed a long train. Part of me wished that it had come along a couple of hours later. It might have been blown up along with the tracks.
When I was certain it had passed I rose and we continued along the line. The delay had cost us. It was three thirty and we seemed to be nowhere near the rendezvous. I was loath to move any faster for that might attract attention. Dawn would be upon us by five at the latest. I wanted to be heading towards the cliffs by then. When, fifteen minutes later, I saw the bridge to our right, I began to hope that we might make it safely. My hopes were dashed as we stepped on to the bridge. There was a crack behind us in the direction of the Headquarters. The first of the booby traps had been triggered. We kept moving towards the bridge.
Harry and George rose like wraiths as we reached the far side of the bridge. "We wondered if that was you, sir?"
"No, Harry, just our calling card." A moment later there was a much bigger explosion followed by a couple more.
Scouse said, "And there goes the lorry park, sir. I reckon they will be a bit annoyed when they find what we have done to their tyres!"
Just then I heard the sound of gunfire. It was to the west. That had to be the flotilla. It was before they were due to land and that meant they had run into trouble at sea. "Harry, set the charges to go off in fifteen minutes."
"Are you certain sir? It will draw Jerry like flies."
I pointed to the east, "I reckon the show has begun." As if to echo that we heard klaxons from the headquarters and a more distant one from the aerodrome.
George, Harry and Ken went back to the charges to set the timers. We waited by the bridge. This would be the last one to go. It took fifteen minutes for them to reach the junction and set the timer. They raced towards us and I set the timer on the bridge explosives for ten minutes. As soon as it was light they would have the spotters up looking for us. My demolition team reached us. "Right, let's move. See how far we can get in eight minutes."
We ran. Once we stopped we would have to reorganise the Bergens. We had all the ropes and all of the captured German ammunition. The other three had empty bags. We stopped near to the village of Martin-Église, The railway crossed the D1 at this point and would be a good place to wait. We slid down the bank. I opened my Bergen and handed some of the ammunition I had taken from the German machine guns to Harry. "Rearrange your bags. " I took the opportunity of unfastening my Thompson from the Bergen. I would need it soon.
Right on time the junction exploded. We were more than a mile away but we felt the concussion. A few minutes later the bridge went up. This time some of the debris and dust showered us. Suddenly there was the sound of a naval bombardment from the west. The attack proper had begun. Within the next hour the Canadians would be pouring ashore. We had done all that we could and now it was time to get to safety; if we could.
Chapter 7
Although we had less than five miles to go the land was already filled with the sound of vehicles and men being moved to the front. The Germans now knew of the allied attack and were responding. While the Headquarters might have been temporarily disabled there were many more men in Dieppe and in camps around the coast. I led and Sergeant Poulson brought up the rear. We avoided the road and headed across country. I counted on the fact that we were going in the same direction as the Germans. They might mistake us for their own troops.
Our first problem came close to Grèges; although it was just a small village it had a camp around it. Luckily we spied it before we stumbled in to it. We ducked into the hedge which surrounded the field. Inside I heard orders being shouted. Engines were being started as they organised their response. The naval bombardment was still crashing away to the west. Occasionally a random shell would burst nearby and shower us with earth. Then the aerial battle began. Eyes in the German camp were either on the skies or the sea.
"We will have to go around. We head along this field and go east. Ken, you have sharp ears. You stay close by me."
"Sir!"
I cocked my Thompson. This was dangerous. Germans were all around us and if we met any then we would have no warning. We came to the end of the hedge and found ourselves close to the main road. I peered down, towards the east. It appeared to be empty. I stepped into the road and waved the section across, "Hurry!"
We almost made it. The two motorcycles appeared from nowhere. I barely had time to fire a burst from my Tommy gun. They were so close that every bullet found a mark, either flesh or the cycles themselves. Both men were down but the damage was done. The gunfire would draw the Germans. We had to get away. My men had not waited for me. Sergeant Poulson led them through the narrow streets of the village. The French were inside. I kept turning to see if we were being pursued. I saw no one.
I heard a burst from Sergeant Poulson's Thompson. German rifles responded. As I ran towards the gunfire I heard two more Thompsons fire. I almost stumbled into German bullets. We had been held at the edge of the village. I saw the coal scuttle helmets on the other side of the wall some thirty feet away. Three dead Germans lay before the wall.
I turned to Fletcher and Crowe. "Grenades on my shout. Throw them high. I want them to go off in the air. You know what to do."
"Sir." We would all release the handle and count to three. It was risky but the effect would be devastating.
Sergeant Poulson and Lance Sergeant Gowland both stepped out and fired long bursts. Stone chips flew from the wall. I pulled the pin and realised the handle. I counted to three and threw, shouting, "Grenade!"
The three grenades went off almost together. I did not see the effect for I had my face buried in the wall. Pieces of stone ricocheted off the wall. I stood and shouted, "At them!"
I knew that if they were not wounded or dead they would be concussed. I used the two dead bodies to springboard over the wall. As I landed I fired a burst at the ones who survived. "Keep going!"
We had the advantage now. We had cleared our path. We could not halt. The wall surrounded part of a field and I ran along the right hand side. We were heading parallel with the coast but we would be sheltered from attack by the wall. There was a hedge ahead and I ran hard. This was where our fitness would pay off. I did not look around. That was a luxury I could not afford. I relied on the fact that Sergeant Poulson would ensure that no one was left behind.
When we reached the safety of the canopy of branches and leaves I stopped. "Fletcher, radio! Sergeant, defensive perimeter. Reload with fresh magazines!"
I went to the edge of the field and looked back. I saw no grey but someone would spot the dead Germans and investigate.
Fletcher had the radio and was giving the call sign, "Scotty Road, over. Scotty Road, Over."
All we heard was static. He shook his head.
"Keep trying." This was maddening for the coast was less than four miles away as the crow flies. "Lowe, go down the field and see what is on the other side, to the west."
"Sir."
"Scotty Road, over. Scotty Road, Over."
The gunfire from the beaches was now constant. I heard small arms fire as well as the sound of naval guns. Worryingly I could hear the Goebbels battery firing. Number Three Commando should have silenced them by now.
"Scotty Road, over. Scotty Road, Over."
"New Brighton, over, New Brighton, over!"
"We are three miles from you and ready for pick up."
"Negative! We are not close. We are under attack."
"Tell him we will go to the b
each and wait." I shrugged, "He gets there when he can get there."
"We will go to the beach and wait. Over and out!"
"Get that packed away and let's move."
George Lowe came running back, "No go sir! There is a squad of Germans there and they are heading in this direction."
Our route to safety was blocked. "We'll head to Graincourt. We can make our way back from there."
As we started to run Sergeant Poulson said, "There was a German garrison there the last time we were here, sir."
"Hopefully they will not be there but we are running out of alternatives, Sergeant."
"Yes, sir."
I tried to remember the roads. We did not have enough time for me to check the map. Our lives were measured in minutes now. Luckily for us the fields were filled with wheat. Although it did not cover us we had somewhere in which we could dive if danger approached. It was Crowe who was in the lead. He suddenly shouted, "Track ahead!"
"Keep going!"
He leapt over the wall and was followed by Fletcher and Lowe. Polly and I had just climbed over when a knot of Germans appeared less than fifty yards away. We both turned and gave a burst from our guns. Two dropped and the rest took cover.
"Come on move yourselves!" Sergeant Poulson's voice had the desired effect and they ran. We had just cleared the wall when I heard the sound of a heavy machine gun and chips of stone flew into the air.
I saw the village ahead. There was a lane which ran parallel to the field and it had a wall too. "Over the wall!"
We dropped over the wall and I held up my hand. We waited. I heard the German officer as he shouted, "They must have gone to Graincourt. Follow me."
I heard them as they approached, their boots pounding and clattering on the stones. They were speaking to each other as soldiers do and it helped me locate them as they approached. I took out a grenade and pulled the pin. The others did the same. When I deemed they were next to us I nodded and threw the Mills bomb over the wall three seconds after releasing the handle.
One of the Germans shouted, "Grenade!" and then a wall of concussion, smoke and shrapnel showered us.
I had no hearing but I stood and sprayed, blindly, the other side. "Let's go!"
We had bought ourselves some time and I led them directly towards Belleville-sur-Mer. There was little point in hiding. Our path to the beach was marked by the German dead. We had eaten into our stock of luck. I just hoped that 'Lucky Lady' was on station. There was a pall of smoke drifting in from the sea and the sound of small fights to our left and right. Ahead seemed remarkably quiet. Above us the air was filled with Spitfires and FW 190s. The Germans appeared to have the upper hand.
We were approaching the main road when I heard the sound of a vehicle. We ducked down. Sergeant Poulson who was nearest to the road crawled forward and peered down. He turned and held up three fingers. I nodded and took out my last grenade. I saw that some of the section had no grenades left. Sergeant Poulson held up three fingers, then two and finally one. We hurled our last five grenades high in the air. The explosions were not simultaneous but the smoke and flames told me that we had hit at least one.
Sergeant Poulson led the charge. He ran into the road, firing his Thompson from the hip. We all followed. One of the Kubelwagens had been overturned a second had crew injured and the lorry which followed was on fire but Germans were pouring from it. In these situations it was the ones who reacted first who won. Our Thompsons wreaked havoc. When mine clicked empty I drew my Colt and emptied that too.
"Run!" We climbed the wall and ran over the fields towards Belleville-sur-Mer. I remembered this part of the coast. We were less than a mile from the cliffs. I would have to risk running through Belleville-sur-Mer. We had no time for any more detours. We needed to be on the beach as soon as possible. As we neared the coast road I saw a line of German vehicles heading towards the Goebbels battery. As its guns were still belching smoke and flames I knew that the attack by Number Three Commando had failed. We dropped to the ground and disappeared in the wheat. The convoy continued on. I felt guilty as we resumed our race to the sea. Commandos were dying and we were leaving.
Belleville-sur-Mer was deserted, or at least there were no people to be seen. These houses all had cellars. I suspected they were taking cover there. Once through the hamlet we had just five hundred yards and then we were at the cliff top.
"Fletcher, radio. Sergeant Poulson, get the ropes rigged."
I took out my binoculars. From my elevated position I could see all the way along the coast. My heart sank. Towards Dieppe I could see burning tanks on the beach and sinking landing craft in the surf. Ripples of flames filled the cliff top around the beach and I could see the flames from multiple machine guns. The Canadians were trapped on the beach.
I turned my glasses towards the Goebbels Battery. I could see that Commandos were attacking the gun but to no avail. I was just considering taking my men to aid them when I saw them begin to fall back towards the beach.
"Sir, it's 'Lucky Lady'. She is half an hour away. The Lieutenant says to get down to the beach and he promises he will be there."
"Right lads, down the ropes. Sergeant you and I will go down last. Fletcher get the radio down and keep in touch with the boat."
As the first four men descended Sergeant Poulson said, "Bit of a cock up sir." He pointed to the huge battery, "They are still firing.!"
"I know and the beach at Dieppe looks to be a shambles too. Don't be downhearted Sergeant, we did our bit. I know we can't see the results but it might have been even worse; who knows."
We were the last two and we began the descent to the beach. Our men on the ground had their guns trained on the cliff top. We had seen no Germans but this was when we were at out most vulnerable. We were half way down when a shell from the Goebbels battery crashed over our heads and barely missed the destroyer which was racing in to the beach at Dieppe. Had it been struck it would have been sunk.
"Any sign of the boat?"
"Not yet sir but there are so many launches out there it is hard to tell which is ours."
"Be ready to wade out. We don't want them to ground themselves. Shepherd, wade out and see how far you can get."
He strode into the water. I saw that he was soon up to his waist. It was a good job we had not tried to land on this beach. It would have been too steep.
"Sir, they can see us." Fletcher shouted, gleefully.
Sergeant Poulson shouted, "There it is!"
Coming at us bow on it was unmistakeable. "In the water everybody and get on those German machine guns when we board. We might have to fight our way out yet!"
Lieutenant Jorgenson threw the E-boat around in an arc. We were sprayed and soaked but it meant we could all climb up on its starboard side. He had rigged a net over the side and we raced up like monkeys. Even as I grabbed the net he had spun the boat around and was racing out to sea. I struggled to climb up, burdened by my Bergen and the force of the water. But I managed it and rolled on to the deck.
I looked up into the face of the SBA, "I don't think we require your services Johnson! But thanks anyway."
"Captain says sorry about the quick manoeuvre but launches and landing craft are being sunk if they hang around too long."
"Don't worry about it. We are off the beach and that is all that counts."
The SBA pointed to the skies. They were filled with aeroplanes and there seemed to be more Germans than RAF. "They have sunk a couple of launches sir."
I stood, "Right lads get on the guns and be ready to fire ay any Jerry that comes close."
I made my way to the bridge. Bill Leslie was on the wheel. Alan shook his head ruefully, "Bloody shambles Tom. Sorry we were late but we had to help out on Yellow beach. The whole flotilla ran into a German Convoy. Only six landing craft from the Brigade made it. We had to engage a couple of the German convoy so that the Colonel could extricate his men. Brave buggers still landed but," He pointed, "They are having to be taken off now."
"If you wa
nt to hang around...."
"It seems rude just to run. We will wait until they are safely away from the beach before we leave." He shook his head. "We have lost a lot of brave men this day."
The Lieutenant did his best. We went as close to the shore as we dared and plucked another dozen Commandos from the sea. The German defenders had become braver and had set up machine guns on the beach. They had a surprise when our German machine guns began to tear through them. George Lowe said, "There you go Fritz! Have a taste of your own medicine!"
The Commandos were all grateful to have been rescued. Most were in total shock. For many, we discovered, this was their first taste of raiding in Occupied Europe. It had been a baptism of fire. When Lieutenant Jorgenson saw that there was no one left alive on the beach he turned west and joined the landing craft as they headed home. The disaster that was Dieppe was over. My section had escaped lightly but the Canadians and Number Three Commando had been scarred for life.
The boat was crowded and so I joined Lieutenant Jorgenson on the bridge for the sombre journey home. "You did warn them Tom but they didn't listen."
"Warned them?"
"The tanks. None got off the beach. Most were stuck in the shingle and the machine guns slaughtered the men."
"What about Lord Lovat and our lads? They were attacking the Hess battery."
"I don't know. We were here on Yellow Beach. Lord Lovat is a wily old bird. He might have been lucky. You never know."
Part 2
Africa
Chapter 8
We did not return as the other ships did to Newhaven and Southampton, instead we went all the way back to Falmouth. We did not arrive back until after dark. On the journey back we heard how the disaster had unfolded. The few boats which had landed had not had sufficient men to assault the guns. The ones we had with us had been with Major Young who had come the closest to success. Lack of heavy weapons had forced him to withdraw. Wacker picked up radio traffic which suggested the large numbers of Canadians had been killed or captured. By twelve noon it was all over and those that could be rescued and recovered were heading home. It was a pitifully small number.
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