I pored over the maps and the photographs. I had to learn what the ground looked like. I might not have either the time or the luxury to read maps when we were in action. We needed everything in our heads. This would be our most dangerous operation to date. We were not a Channel away from home; we were a continent. This could well be our last operation.
Chapter 9
Someone in England had wanted us to succeed. Major Fleming was in charge and he got what he wanted. We were furnished with silver coins. To me they did not seem much but I was assured that they would purchase our needs. The two dinghies were taken on board and they were already inflated. Finally we received an update on the tank. It had been seen on the tank transporter and was still some miles from Tunis. The coast road was not the best and they had to move at the speed of the tank transporter. Scouse Fletcher asked, "If the spotter plane can see it why can't the RAF destroy it, sir?"
The air attaché shook his head, "The Spitfire which saw it was well out to sea. If it had closed with it then the Luftwaffe would have descended like hawks. Believe me it was tried."
We boarded the Sunderland for the last leg. The pilot had assured me he would use full speed. It was in all our interests to do so. "Besides, it is just a short hop to Malta. I could get there with the petrol in my lighter."
We left Gibraltar just as the sun was beginning to set in the west. The gun crews were closed up and looked more apprehensive. Flying out at sea we had been safe. Now we flew through enemy air space. The aircraft was in complete darkness. We needed to be invisible. We had checked the weather forecast and the seas would be calm when we landed. That was useful, not only for us but for the Sunderland which had to land. I had managed a short nap and now, as we set off I lay down again. We had over six hours of flying ahead of us; even a few hours of sleep would help.
Sergeant Poulson shook me awake. "We are an hour from Tunis sir."
"Right, Sergeant."
He grinned, "Al Jolson time eh sir."
I nodded, "Let's get ready, Sergeant."
The co-pilot came out not long after we had all blacked up. "Touch down in thirty minutes. Are you ready?" We nodded. "You are in luck tonight. There is no moon and the skies are cloudy. The weather might change in the morning. I am not certain if that helps or hinders."
"Rain and a sand storm would help."
"Then we will pray for that."
I realised that if the weather was too bad we would not be able to be picked up. Then my ingenuity would be tested if I was to get my section back home safely! We made our way to the hatch at the side of the aeroplane. The two dinghies were already there. We would be crowded on the two rubber boats but three would have been too difficult to manage. I glanced out of the dorsal bubble. In the distance I could see twinkling lights. There was no blackout in Tunis. The reflection showed that we were descending towards the sea.
The Flight Sergeant said, "Here we go gents. Be ready to bail out as quickly as you can. The pilot will turn away from you as he takes off. The back draft from the propellers will act like a wind and give you a head start." He shrugged, "It is the best we can do I am afraid. It is just too dangerous to go any closer. These are big noisy buggers!"
"It will be fine, Flight. Thanks for the lift!"
As we came down lower I saw spray being blown behind us from the huge Pegasus engines and then the slight jolt as we touched the water. Landings were always smoother on sea planes.
"Get the hatch open!" We were covered in spray but we needed to get out as soon as possible. Our Bergens were stacked next to the hatch with Tommy guns already attached. As we slowed we threw out the two dinghies. They were attached by ropes. As soon as we had slowed enough we leapt into the two dinghies. The crew handed us our bags.
"Good luck lads, and see you in a couple of days."
The hatch slammed ominously as the pilot began to turn but we had no time to ponder our fate. "Paddle!" Sergeant Poulson was at the stern of one dinghy and I at the other. We would be the rudders and the steering paddles. The other four in each boat just had to keep paddling in unison. It was a race against time. We needed to be ashore as soon as possible and then find somewhere to lie up. Even though it was a cloudy sky I could see Tunis. Its irregular shadow rose in the west. Suddenly it was as though we were pushed in the back. The Sunderland's mighty engines, just forty feet from us increased power and we hurtled through the water. It was just the start we needed. We had got over the entail inertia quickly and it spurred on the men. They were competitive and the two crews would keep going until the muscle burn kicked in and they could paddle no more.
We were within two hundred yards of the beach when we saw the searchlight of the harbour guard boat. It would go from La Marsa east and then back. We knew about it but had no idea of the timing. We saw it as it began its turn east. The beam from its light illuminated the spot we have vacated ten minutes earlier. We had been lucky. The sound of the surf and the waves had hidden its engine from us.
I hissed, "Slow down a little. Let's make sure the beach is clear." The last thing we wanted was for a Tunisian fisherman on the beach to see us. There was no-one and we rolled in on the tiny, inconsequential waves.
Crowe and Hewitt leapt out and pulled the painter to drag us on the shingle beach. We gabbed our Bergens and jumped into the water. We pulled the dinghies out of the water and ran with them towards the low dunes and scrubby sand ahead. When we reached them we dropped the dinghy. "Shepherd, Fletcher, go and get rid of our tracks." They dropped their Bergens and ran off. "Get these dinghies punctured and bury them in the soft sand." There was the sound of hissing as the daggers punctured the boats.
I knew that they would be found but I hoped it would not be a for a day or two. It was too dark to see my map and I could not risk a light. We had to find shelter and find it soon. I knew from the maps and photographs that there were two rivers. One was wider than the other. When we found one I would know where we were. If there was a road ahead of us then we had landed at the wrong place and we might be in trouble.
"Take charge, Sergeant."
I headed inland and ran for two hundred yards. I did not cross a road of any description. It meant we were in the right spot. I turn right and headed north. I was guessing we would find the river. Two hundred yards later and I found it. To be honest I could have found it with my eyes closed. It stank! I guessed it was the main drain for the myriad settlements further inland. I ran back down the sand and scrub until I found the section. The dinghies had been covered and Shepherd and Fletcher were back.
"Shepherd, take the point. Let's find some shelter."
We moved in an arrow formation. Our eyes flicked from the ground to the land around us and back. There was danger everywhere. We had travelled about a mile when Shepherd stopped. He pointed to his nose then to the right. There were people in that direction. I pointed left. He began to move closer to Tunis. I glanced behind. Dawn was an hour away. In this part of the world it was a lot more sudden than in France. We needed somewhere to hide and soon.
It was when I turned back from looking east that I spied it. There was something ahead and to the left. I overtook Shepherd and ran towards it. It was an old mud hut. The roof and the upper walls had collapsed leaving just three walls that rose five feet high and a fourth that was just two feet high. Wind and water had eroded the side facing the Gulf of Tunis. This would have to do. I circled my arm and my section quickly occupied it.
Some of us had done this before and the others merely copied our actions. We rigged the camouflage nets over the top of the walls. The fact that they were uneven actually helped with the disguise. We each put our Bergen in our own space. Soon we were invisible. Before we had left Gibraltar we had arranged the guard rota. Lance Sergeant Gowland and his team had first watch. I drank some water and forced myself to eat something. It was an orange we had each been given in Gibraltar. As rare as hen's teeth in England it was a luxury we savoured. I even ate the peel. I curled up in a ball and fell asleep. It would
not be a deep sleep. It never was when I was in action but I would rest and, when I awoke, I would be refreshed.
It was just daylight when Harry woke me. We had left a tunnel to the entrance, which faced the sea. I slipped my binoculars out of my Bergen and crawled to the entrance. I could see a small fishing fleet of lateen rigged ships heading out to the sea. I crawled along the wall and looked towards the harbour of Tunis. I saw the masts and antennae of warships. They would only be destroyers and E-Boats but they would be German and they would be dangerous. I moved around to view Tunis.
My map was in a case around my neck and I held it on the ground before me. The building we sought was two miles away due west. It was close to a major crossroads. It was not in the town proper but on the outskirts. From the photographs it looked to have been erected recently. With typical Teutonic efficiency it was all straight lines. That would help us. I used the glasses and saw the Swastika flying. I could not see the building; huts interfered with my view. I knew where we had to get to. The problem was all the people between it and us. We would have to hit it quickly. We could not afford to spend two days in this dilapidated hovel.
I completed a full circuit and saw some inhabited mud huts a mile to the north of us. There was nothing else close. There was a large patch of water to the south. I saw birds rising from it. That would be a place where the locals would go. There would be eggs, fish and fowl. We had been lucky again. Once back in the camp I drank sparingly from my canteen. The last time we had been here it had been almost winter. This was late summer. It would be hot and dehydration would be a problem. I waved over Fletcher and Shepherd and spoke quietly. "Shepherd watch the north. There is a village a mile away. Keep your eye on it. Fletcher do the same to the south. I didn't see anything but you never know."
An hour into our watch a squall swept in from the Bay of Tunis. It was not heavy rain but it was driving and relentless rain. I took my oilskin from my Bergen and huddled beneath it. I was thankful I had not left it in Blighty. Although it stopped an hour later it set the pattern for the day. Sergeant Poulson relieved us and when we rose at three another shower had swept in. The ground on which we sat was sodden and our clothes covered by a patina of mud. It helped to camouflage us. We needed no makeup. Our hands and faces were also speckled with splashed soil. We were all rested and, as we ate our main meal of the day I sat with Sergeant Poulson and Lance Sergeant Gowland and ran through the plan again.
"We move out as soon as it is dark. I know there will be locals about but we try to avoid them. I want to be as close to the compound as we can before midnight. We will need as much of the darkness as we can to get into the mountains where we can hide. Jerry will have every aeroplane he can looking for us." I pointed to the map. "The road from the compound is a good one to here. It is the last twenty miles that will be tortuous."
Polly nodded, "To be honest sir it is getting in the compound that worries me."
I took out the aerial photograph, "There are two entrances in and out. This is the main one; the one facing Tunis. The one on the far side looks to be a small access road to this huddle of buildings. I am guessing that this is the one the German soldiers use. There will be the Tunisian version of a pub there. Locals will know how to milk soldiers; they always do. They will be used to men going in and out. That is how we get in. Once we are in there will be little security within the compound. We take the field caps of the Germans and, in the dark, we might pass for German. There are four of you who have a little German; it is enough to speak with me and that might lull any Jerry we meet and give us the edge."
Lance Sergeant Gowland nodded, "Do you want us to disable the other vehicles, sir?"
"If you have the opportunity but the priority is stealing two. Then you can disable and booby trap until we get there. We will leave the same way we came in, through the small gate and then to the main road. If you have a choice of Kubelwagen, take the ones with the machine guns."
The rain stopped and we all watched to see if any locals investigated the mud ruins. Our camouflage must have been good for no one came. I had the men put their oil skins on. They would cover our Bergens and they came down to our waist. With the hoods on them they might be taken, in the dark, for the Arab cloak, the bisht. When we left, at dusk, we saw why no one had approached the ruin. The ground all around had become a slippery morass. The sand and shale like soil had mixed into a grey mud which made walking harder. I was grateful for the rubber soled shoes which gave us more grip. I led. My French and the map in my head were our best weapons until we reached the German compound.
We had just a mile to cover before we came to the first road. I used the word road but what passed for a highway was in a poor state of repair. That suggested they were little used by the Germans. The huts we had seen were a mile to the north of us and, with nothing else in sight, we slipped across the road and then waited. The sand and soil had given way to soil but the rain had made it muddy. I looked down and saw our prints. They would be able to follow us. I took out my binoculars. The Germand flag was flying a mile and a half away. I could not see the actual compound for there were huts in the way. I decided to head north and west to go around the huts and the compound. That way we would approach our gate from what would be, I hoped, the quiet side.
The rain returned. This time it was heavier rain. I took advantage of the rain storm and led the men as quickly as the ground allowed. As we approached the first of the houses, to our left, I held my hand up and we dropped to the ground. A mother and two children ran, just eighty yards from us, across the track and into a hut. Then there was no one. I took a chance and led the section through the huts. Anyone with any sense was sheltering. The rain was pounding now. It suggested it would not last long. Our luck held and we emerged from the huts having saved ourselves a muddy detour.
Once we had cleared the huts I saw the German compound to our left. There was wire all around it. I saw, close to the wire, wooden warning signs. I could not read them but I guessed that they marked a minefield. We now had to negotiate the many small huddles of huts which surrounded the wire. The rain helped. No one but a fool would venture forth on a night such as this. What had Noel Coward written? 'Mad dogs and Englishmen'! That was us.
As we approached the western end of the compound and the road we slowed. There was vehicular traffic on the highway. It was not a great deal but enough for us to have to time crossing it well.
We huddled behind a hut adjacent to the road and watched the road from the north west. I heard a convoy approach. The lead vehicle had slits of lights and they were driving cautiously. I saw that the convoy was led by a Kubelwagen. There was a truck which passed us, slowly, and then five petrol tankers. A small armoured car brought up the rear. When they had passed the road appeared to be clear and I led the section across the road. We ducked behind a deserted workshop of some kind and I looked at my watch. It was a quarter past ten. We had made good time. I took out my binoculars and risked a look down the road. I saw the convoy at the entrance to the compound, about half a mile away. We were almost there.
I waved my hand and we moved parallel to the road down the back alleys of this shanty town. We heard voices within the huts as we passed but no one emerged. The rain had lightened somewhat but it still fell. Then, as we neared the entrance to the compound, three hundred yards to our left, I saw lights and heard noises and voices. It was the clinking of glasses and the voices were German. I pointed to the right. It was away from the light and towards the shadows of what looked like a shop during the day. It was shuttered.
I took out my silenced Colt. The others did too. We waited, hidden by the boxes upon which goods would be stacked during the day. Light burst from the building thirty paces away. Five Germans staggered out. One of them shouted, "Come Heine. It is pouring down out here! You will have to peel potatoes for a month if you are late again." I heard an indistinct response. The German waved a hand and said, "You and Kurt are on your own. I will tell Stephan at the gate that you are on your way.
You do not have long!"
The five headed across the road. I waved for the men to stay where they were and I crossed to the building which I now knew was a bar of some description. I could hear voices from inside. An Arab voice speaking halting German said, "Effendi, it is late. There is a curfew. I will be in trouble. Your friends have gone."
"Mustapha you are the son of a whore. Piss off!"
"I must go now! I cannot risk breaking the curfew. I will clean your mess in the morning."
I pressed myself against the wall. The Arab came out. He was clutching a leather bag. That would be the takings; I had no doubt. He looked at the sky and pulled the hood of his bisht up. He ran around the corner and I heard a moped start up. He rode back up the road the German convoy had used. I waved my men forward. This was a chance not to be missed. I listened at the door.
The German who had told the Arab to go was speaking, "The thing is, Kurt, I don't really like Arab women. I mean they are pretty enough but the young ones have not enough meat on them. I like something I can get hold of. You know what I mean? And this Arab beer is like piss. Heinrich is right about that. But we stay here for a bit. I am not getting wet." He giggled drunkenly, "At least not outside!" I heard the sound of loud slurping.
From the noises I had heard the two Germans were the only ones within and one of them was so drunk that he could barely speak. I pointed to Sergeant Poulson and Lance Sergeant Gowland. I mimed knocking someone out. They nodded. I stepped into the bar. It was lit by candles. One soldier was face down on the table, his beer dripping on the floor. The other was in the act of drinking when I pointed my gun at him and he froze mid drink. Polly was behind him and had tapped him with the sap before he knew it.
Dieppe Page 11