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Behind Enemy Lines

Page 11

by Hosker, Griff


  Jack nodded, “You might have a point there. If Grenville is an example of an Officer Training Course then we are better off with blokes who haven’t been through that.”

  Reg decided that was enough about the Troop and we chatted for the rest of the evening about the inconsequential stuff which filled most bars: football, the weather, radio… the usual.

  I took the opportunity, the next day, of catching up with Daddy Grant. He too had been granted leave and had spent his with his wife and children. He had given up more than most. His wound had meant he could have been invalided out but he had loyalty to the Troop. He was cheerier than I had seen him for some time. “I had the best leave. We even managed to get a big chicken for our Christmas dinner. I didn’t ask our lass where she got it. I didn’t care. It was bloody lovely and the kids have grown up. They made a real fuss of me. We had the in laws round two nights ago and had a grand party. Yes that was the best leave I have had in a long time.”

  “Aren’t you sad to be back then?”

  “No. They made a fuss because my time at home was so short. That was why we had no rows and everybody was happy. There’s a war on and you never know what is around the corner. If I had been home longer it would not have been as good. We crammed in everything we could."

  He was right and his words echoed my mum’s comments. The war was just part of my life. It wasn’t my whole life.

  The Major returned two days later and his face told us that, despite what we had thought, we were going into action again. He had with him another officer; a lieutenant this time. All of the NCOs were gathered in the canteen. “This is Lieutenant Eliot. He is joining our compliment and I have recommended that Lieutenant Marsden be promoted to Captain. We are awaiting confirmation.”

  We all cheered. He was a popular officer.

  “That is the good news. Now the slightly more unwelcome news. We have a job behind enemy lines. We are being dropped into the Low Countries on Christmas Day. Our job is to destroy two radar stations which have just been built north east of Dunkirk.” I saw Horace begin to open his mouth. “Before you say anything Sergeant Maguire, bombers can’t go in because they have built the two of them very close to civilians. One is next to a church and the other next to a village. We are the scalpel and not the sledgehammer. We leave on Christmas Eve and we will be picked up at dawn from the beach. The RAF and Coastal Command will cover our withdrawal. We have until then to practise. You all know what Freja looks like. The new lads won’t. I am hoping our recent training at the mine will pay off. The Brass hope that the timing will catch Jerry unaware. If will be Christmas day and he won't expect us to attack.”

  We all looked at the maps. We had not been to that part of France and I knew there were issues with the aeroplane drops. Being picked up after the raid was a clever idea. There was little chance of the enemy being alerted before the raid. However there were far more things which could go wrong.

  “I will lead Sergeant Jackson’s section. We will go in with Sergeant Barker and Lieutenant Eliot. Captain Marsden and Lieutenant Green will take in Sergeant Maguire and Sergeant Harsker’s teams.”

  I was pleased; I knew Captain Marsden. He was a good leader. Lieutenant Green still looked young and nervous. He would be the unknown quantity on this mission. It was the young lieutenant who handed out the maps.

  The Major continued, “De Panne is on the beach. It is low lying and there are no cliffs to assault. There is a pier and that is how we will escape. It is guarded; our aerial photographs indicate that they have a pair of heavy machine guns mounted there. That implies about eight men. As they are guarding the pier from the sea it should be possible to take them out from the land.” He pointed to me, “That will be Sergeant Harsker’s task. When his section have set their charges they will go to the pier and secure our safe departure.” He smiled, “I understand that some of his men are now learning German. That may well come in handy.”

  “Sir, what about the guards for the two Freja?”

  “There is a small guard hut next to each one, Barker. At night there should only be a couple of men.”

  “And why have they two so close together sir? They don’t normally.”

  “I know, Corporal Price; Intelligence seems to think that they regard this as a key site for their defences. Our bombers are visiting Germany regularly and that is the main route they take. Now that our American friends are in the war it won’t be too long until there are American bombers flying there too. The second one was only completed last week. We don’t think they are both fully functioning. Certainly the photographic aeroplanes have not see any activity around them.”

  “Do we want to bring any bits back, sir?”

  Sometimes Intelligence and the boffins wanted to know if there were any changes in the way the enemy machines worked but, in answer to Gordy’s question the Major just shook his head. “They asked us to but I said it was too risky. The priority is the destruction of these things.” He smiled, “I offered to take one of their scientists with us so that he could examine one in situ…. They said we could just destroy them.” We all laughed. No one but a commando would do what we did.

  We dispersed to brief our sections. I sketched what Freja looked like and showed it to the new men. “They want these destroying completely. Here is how we do it. We have one charge here under the wire array and a series of charges under the bottom of the whole unit. We will be with Sergeant Maguire’s team. Technically it only needs one team to set the charges but we are going in by parachute and it may be that only a couple of people actually get to the Freja.” I pointed to the new men. “If that is you then you will have to use what we have learned up at the mine and destroy it yourself.” They nodded, seriously.

  We did not have long to prepare. As we were going in by air we all had to have explosives and times with us. With the Bola and Thompsons we would be landing heavy. The one advantage we had was that it was the Low Countries. The landing would be relatively flat. However we were going in lower than we normally did. The Major was trying to minimise the risk of us being spread out over a large area. The Low Countries also meant that while it would be cold it would be unlikely to be a snowy landing.

  It was early on the morning of Christmas Eve that we headed for the airfield where our Whitleys awaited us. The two Freja were just half a mile apart and so we would fly together. Once on the ground we would operate independently. The rest of the troop would be relying on the skills of my section to overcome the guards at the pier. If anything untoward occurred in the landing then the rest would have to improvise. We waited until late afternoon. The airfield was full of preparations for Christmas. Homemade decorations were in abundance and we could smell the spiced puddings that were being steamed by the cooks. When they were waking up to Christmas and good will to all men we would be trying to kill Germans a few hundred miles to the east. It was bizarre.

  We boarded the aeroplanes in daylight. We had to be in the air before it was dark. We needed all the dark we could get to do the job. I hated the flying coffins. They still smelled of leaking petrol and I knew that the noise during takeoff would be unbearable. Dad had been surprised that they still used the antiquated bomber. In his position he knew the vast array of aeroplanes we now had. My own theory was that the bombers, like us, were expendable. The old hands showed the new ones the procedure. I had alternated my section so that one of the original crew was next to a new boy. Fletcher stood behind me. Lieutenant Green was bang in the middle between Harry and George. They would look after the young officer. Ken Curtis would be the last out. When the hatch was slammed shut it reminded me of the submarine. This too felt like a tomb- this time an aerial one.

  As soon as the huge engines started the aeroplane began to vibrate and shake. The noise was horrific. It continued as we hurtled down the runway and only abated slightly when we were in the air. We would have a relatively short flight time but we were to rendezvous with some ancient Wellingtons which would act as a diversion. They would bomb the ra
ilway line which went through Diksmuide a few miles to the east. It was a good plan. I just hoped that all of the Wimpey bomber crews would survive. I did not want anyone dying for us. I preferred going in my small boat. Of course the German guards at the pier would make that impossible.

  It was a relatively short flight and the co pilot popped his head out of the cockpit and shouted. “Fifteen minutes to the drop zone.”

  The Flight Sergeant went to the hatch in the floor and removed it. There was a rush of icy air and it became impossible to talk. We would use hand signals from now on. We all hooked on. Our Bergens and our Thompsons were in front of us. I felt Fletcher pressing as close to me as he could. That would be Ken pushing up from the back. It was important that we all exited quickly. Horace’s team would be right behind us. The pilot came out and gave the thumbs up. Even before the flight sergeant had turned I was stepping into the black void. With my arms on my Bergen I hit the night. All was dark below us. There were no landmarks. I orientated myself to look west by using the departing Whitleys as a point of reference. I caught sight of white caps. It was the sea. I reached up to adjust my parachute. To the east I could hear the sound of flak as the Wimpeys began bombing the railway line. I wanted to be as close to the coast as I could get. The lower altitude meant that the ground came at me very quickly. As I descended I saw an empty field and I tugged one of the cords. I flexed my knees before I struck. The ground was rock hard but I managed to keep my feet. I began gathering in the parachute as soon as my feet touched the ground.

  I heard the rest of the section as they thumped to the ground. Scouse Fletcher had a hard landing and I heard him grunt. With my parachute bundled up I took off my Bergen and my harness. Looking around I saw a ditch running along the field. I put the chute in the ditch. It would be found but, hopefully, not until we were long gone. I slung my Thompson and took out my Colt. As I had been descending I had fixed a couple of points in my head. The house to my left was in the direction of the beach. When we reached the road which ran along the coast we should be able to see our Freja.

  Lieutenant Green ran up to me. He was grinning. A successful landing did that. I pointed to the house. He nodded. Ken brought up the rest. I saw that Fletcher was limping. We had our first casualty. He would have to keep up with us. The Lieutenant signalled for me to lead. I trotted off towards the house. It was in darkness. I could not smell smoke and I guessed that it was unoccupied. I went down the track which led from the house to the road. As soon as I reached the road I held up my hand and dropped to one knee. We had landed about half a mile further west than we should have. We had two ways to go. We could risk the road and get to Duinhoek and turn left or we could risk the dunes. Both involved risks. The dunes could be mined.

  In the distance I heard a vehicle and that decided me. The dunes were less risky. I waved the section across the road. I followed Ken. There was no sign of Horace and his men nor Captain Marsden. They might have landed even further west. When I reached the Lieutenant I said, quietly, “There are vehicles on the road. I will lead, sir. There may be mines.”

  "Right, Harsker, you have done this before. Lead on Macduff!"

  I went directly north and east. It would bring me, I hoped, to our Freja. I kept glancing to the ground but, as we had not see signs and the sand, although frozen, looked to have been well used.

  I saw the distinctive wire array of the Freja one hundred yards from us. A glowing pinprick showed me where the sentry was having a smoke. I waved the Lieutenant and Ken forward. I pointed. They both nodded. We had already planned this part. Ken took Polly, Harry and George. They would disable the sentries. The Lieutenant followed with the others. I took Scouse and we headed for the beach. We were far enough away from Freja to have our words masked by the sound of the surf. “How is the foot, Scouse?”

  “I twisted my ankle, Sarge. Sorry.”

  “Never mind. I have something for you to do.” We reached the beach and I saw, forty yards away, the pier which led into the sea. It was used by fishermen although in 1940 the BEF had used it as a mole to board the little ships. I took Scouse along the dunes keeping below the top. When we reached the end of the pier I said, “You stay here and keep watch. I want to know how many guards you see.”

  That done I ran back to the Freja. The two guards were trussed up like chickens. Their eyes were closed and I guessed that they had been laid unconscious. Before we left we would move them away from the blast although our charges would be precisely placed to do the maximum damage but make the least noise. The Lieutenant stood to one side. “I wonder where Captain Marsden and Sergeant Maguire are.”

  “They may have drifted too far to the west. I will take the lads and secure the pier.”

  The Lieutenant nodded, “Should I blow up the Freja?”

  "Wait until I send a messenger back, sir. We have to contact the launches yet.”

  I tapped Polly and the new lads. They would be my team. The launches were waiting off shore in the dark. When Polly flashed his light then they would come to the end of the pier. I led the men to Scouse. “Fletcher, you are tail end Charlie. How many are there?”

  “I counted four of them Sarge. There may be more but just four are moving about.”

  “Right. Drop your Bergens at the end of the pier. Polly, you are with me at the front. Crowe, Hewitt and Grimsdale you are with us as well. We can’t afford any firing.” I took out my sap and smacked it into my hand. “I will use this. If you haven’t got one use your toggle ropes. No guns! Scouse stay here with the bags. Use your charges to rig the end of the pier. Don’t attach the timer yet.”

  “Right Sarge!”

  Once the bags were dropped I stepped onto the pier. The sound of the water swirling beneath would cover most noises. We moved, crouching down the one hundred yard pier. I could see the shadows at the end. The guns, which pointed to the sky looked like heavy calibre machine guns. Scouse had been right, I could see the glowing ends of cigarettes and smell the smoke. I could even hear their voices. They were in a good mood and anticipating being relieved in a few hours. That was all we needed. More soldiers for us to fight.

  When we were twenty yards from them I held up my hand. I dropped to all fours and crawled. I could see that they were not wearing helmets. They had field caps. That would make the problem of taking them easier. One of them was telling a ribald joke. Their attention was on the teller. We drew closer. My two new men were on the extremes. Polly and I would be the ones who would strike first. I glanced at Polly and nodded. I jumped up and, grabbing the nearest German around the neck with my left arm I smacked the sap against the back of his head. He went limp. Poulson’s German was also taken but Grimsdale had not managed to overcome his German and the two of them fell into the sea with a loud splash. Hewitt was quick and he jumped in after them. Private Crowe held his man in a Japanese stranglehold until Polly smacked him with his sap.

  “Crowe get back to the Lieutenant, tell him we have the pier and he can blow the Freja. Tell Scouse to bring the bags up. Groves go and help Scouse.” Poulson had not needed orders and he had his torch and was flashing out his message. I went to the side and threw the lifebelt which was there. Hewitt and Grimsdale were hauled up. Grimsdale shook his head, “Sorry Sarge.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Where is he?”

  “He smacked his head off a strut. He is dead.”

  “Get these three tied up and then shove the guns into the sea.” I went to Polly at the end. “Any sign of the ML?”

  Not yet, Sarge.”

  “Keep trying.” Just then I heard the chatter of machine guns. Someone had been spotted. Fletcher and Groves arrived with the bags. “Use these sandbags and pile them up across the pier. It sounds like we have been spotted.” At that precise moment I saw a flash of light. There were four explosions and then another two. The whole night was illuminated and the fire fight intensified.

  I glanced at Polly who was still signalling. Unless he contacted them quickly we would all be in the bag! I saw figu
res approaching and I cocked my Thompson. Behind me I heard a splash as the German gun was dropped into the sea. To my relief the men who ran up were the Lieutenant and the rest of my section.

  “The Freja gone, sir?”

  “It is Sergeant.”

  “What was that firing?”

  “I think it was Captain Marsden. It came from the west so it can’t have been the Major.” As if to prove it I heard feet racing down the pier and recognised Major Foster and the other two sections.

  “Sarge, I have them!” Poulson pointed out to see where I saw a pinprick of light flashing.

  “Tell them we are under attack.” There was little point in a silent approach now.

  “Well done chaps. The firing?”

  Lieutenant Green said, “Sergeant Maguire’s section and Captain Marsden.”

  “Harsker, you and Barker take six men and go to the dunes. They made need help.”

  “Right sir. Ken, George and Harry, with me.” I cocked my Thompson as we ran down the pier. I could see the flash of muzzles in the dark. When we reached the dunes we threw ourselves down and I took a grenade out.”

  Gordy said, “I thought it was too good to be true. It went like a dream.”

  “Horace is a canny old bird. He will make it.”

  The firing drew closer and we could hear shouts in German. Gordy gave a whistle and repeated it. Behind me I heard the sound of the MGB and Motor Launches as they drew close. George said, “I can see them.” He pointed in the dark and I saw at least three Commandos.

  “When I give the order spray just above their heads.” I counted on the fact that these were our men and would obey orders instantly. When they were forty yards from us I shouted, “Horace! Down!” A heartbeat later I shouted, “Fire!”

  We all gave a short burst. One of us was lucky for we were rewarded with a cry as a German was hit. “Come in now lads. The boats are here.” One of them must have thrown a grenade for there was a sudden flash and an explosion and then four of them hurried towards us. I could see that two of Horace’s section were carrying him and the Captain was covering them with his machine gun. Horace looked to be in a bad way as they almost collapsed behind us.

 

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