Behind Enemy Lines

by Hosker, Griff

  “Gordy take Horace back. I had Fletcher put charges at the end of the pier. It needs a timer. Ten minutes should do it.”

  “Ten minutes? That is cutting it fine.”

  “Just do it eh?”

  As they hurried off we gave another burst of our Thompsons. Captain Marsden threw himself over the top of the dune. Now that he was safe we needed to buy some time. “Right lads, on three, grenades.” I took out a Mills bomb and pulled the pin. “One, two, three!” We all hurled our bombs and then dived down. We heard shouts and screams as the shrapnel tore through the advancing Germans.

  “Right sir, let’s get the lead out eh? The end of the pier is rigged to blow in five minutes!”

  We ran. It was just fifty years to the pier but it felt longer. Gordy was half way down the pier, “Come on lads!”

  I heard the crack of rifles behind us. We just ran. Ken fell as we reached the pier. I reached down and picked him up. I could see that he had been hit. I reached under his arm and pulled him along. Harry saw us and came back. We were in a race. Would we reach the boats before we were either shot or blown up by our own charges?

  I saw that the launches had all been loaded save one. The gunners were throwing lead and bullets at the pursuing Germans. I could hear shouts of encouragement from our comrades. All of a sudden there was a flash behind me and the concussion of the explosion threw the three of us to the floor. I lost my hearing. I groggily rose to my feet. Harry had also been hit by something. There was a gash in the back of his head. I helped Ken to his feet. “Can you make it on your own?”

  “Yes Sarge!” Using the safety rail on the pier he hobbled towards the launch. I picked up Harry. He was a big lad and I put him over my shoulders. Polly and George ran to help me onto the launch. I collapsed in a heap. I knew they were talking to me, I could see their mouths moving, but we had been so close to the blast that I could hear nothing.

  The launch spun around and we headed west. Scouse took off my Bergen. He held it for me to see. The back had been shredded. Shrapnel and pieces of wood had torn through it. Luckily for me the steel frame and the equipment inside had taken the impact. I was lucky again.

  The leading hand came around, as dawn broke, with stoker’s cocoa. He had a piece of holly in his cap. “Merry Christmas Sergeant!”

  It was Christmas day. We had had our present. None of our section had died and the injuries were superficial; twisted ankles and cuts to the head. Sergeant Maguire’s section, in contrast, had lost six men. We were not certain if they were dead or captured. I also had no idea what injuries Horace had suffered; he was in an another launch.

  When my hearing returned Lieutenant Green filled me in. He had managed to get some of the story from Captain Marsden. “They lost two men who drifted a long way to the west and they went to look for them. they were so late when they found them all that they decided to use the road.” He shook his head, “You were right Sergeant, it was the wrong decision. A German lorry and Kubelwagen came down the road. They hid but one of the Jerries must have had sharp eyes. They opened fire and our lads had to leg it towards the beach. Then the two Freja went up.”

  “Just bad luck then. How is Horace sir?”

  “No idea. He took a bullet. They put him on the MGB they have an SBA.”

  “Horace is a tough old bugger, sir. He will survive. He is too awkward to die peacefully!”

  The wind was so cold that Christmas day that we all went below decks. Normally we liked to watch the horizon and see Blighty appear but it was too unpleasant for that and we huddled below decks.

  As Lieutenant Green and I entered the mess Ken said, “Thanks for coming back for me Sarge.”

  “We never leave anyone behind Ken, you know that.”

  “And me too Sarge. Sorry I am so heavy.” Harry looked to be embarrassed that I had had to carry him.

  I laughed, “I didn’t realise until I tried to pick you up! I bet you were a rugby player.”

  “I was sir, Rugby League, second row.”

  “What happened to the prisoners?”

  “Major Foster took them on the MGB. He was pleased he said it was an unexpected bonus.”

  I almost felt sorry for the Germans. They had been expecting to be celebrating Christmas one minute and the next they were POWs. At least our lads knew what Christmas Day might bring. Rather than going all the way to Falmouth we headed for Newhaven. We needed the medical facilities there. It meant we were back on British soil within a couple of hours. While the wounded and injured were being whisked away I joined Major Foster and the other officers and sergeants.

  “A shame about this one hiccup chaps. We would have had a perfect mission but for that.”

  “Parachutes, sir, they are unpredictable. Perhaps they should have dropped us sooner. We had a fair walk to get to the beach.”

  “I think they were worried about our chutes being seen.”

  “How is Horace?”

  “The SBA did a good job and stopped the bleeding. There was an exit wound so that is one good thing.” He smiled, “I had hoped to get to camp before night but I think we will be lucky to get there by tomorrow. We will be using lorries.”

  Gordy said, “Well, sir, the sooner we start, the sooner we get home. Are those our lorries over there?”

  There were two lorries with their drivers having a smoke. “I believe so.”

  Gordy turned, “Right lads get your gear aboard the lorries while I have a word with these drivers. Let’s see if we can get back sooner than the Major says eh?”

  The Major shook his head as Gordy raced off, “He will be lucky! It is two hundred and eighty miles to Falmouth. That is eight hours at least.”

  I shook my head, “Gordy might be right, sir. There will be no traffic on the roads. We don’t need to stop and we can relieve the drivers if we have to. It is nine o’clock now. We could be home for six or even earlier.”

  “I admire your optimism. Let’s try it then.”

  I think after the raid the race to camp seemed a bit of madcap fun. Gordy and Captain Marsden offered to relieve the drivers after an hour. They made those lorries achieve speeds I doubt even the designer had envisaged. We rocked and we rolled down country lanes. I was just glad that most people were at home enjoying Christmas. It reminded me of the story Dad told of Lord Burscough driving him from London to Burscough in a sports car. And we made it before night had fallen. Even the drivers were impressed. Of course we had not thought this through. There was no meal prepared and everyone had already eaten their Christmas dinner. We were commandos and we improvised. Every section scavenged and returned an hour later with a variety of food. It was an eclectic mix. Major Foster managed to find beer and whisky so that we celebrated Christmas all together.

  Before we all became completely inebriated Troop Sergeant Major Dean insisted we toasted and remembered those who had not returned. We all prayed that they were just prisoners and not lying in some Belgian field but we all remembered them. And then forgot everything as the alcohol kicked in.

  Poor Mrs Bailey did not know what hit her as the drunken, though quite pleasant, commandos arrived back late. Her face although stern had the hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth. “Get your men to bed, Sergeant Harsker, and I hope no one is ill tonight!”

  I picked her up and hugged her. I kissed her on the cheek. “Don’t worry Mrs Bailey, if anyone is ill I will clean it up for you!”

  I saw the smile in her eyes as she said, “Ah go on with you!”

  Of course no one was ill but we all slept late, even me. The Major had said, while we were all still semi sober, that we had Boxing Day off. We took advantage of that. I walked down to the beach and just watched the waves. It seemed reassuring somehow. This was the same sea I had seen in France. We were all part of the same world. We had been lucky. The ones who were still in France would not begrudge us our freedom. It was all in the luck of the draw but I thought of those who would be prisoners of the Germans until this war was over.

  Surp
risingly enough when we all reported on the twenty seventh everyone was in good spirits. The news from Newhaven was that all those who had been wounded were doing well. Horace had pulled through. The Major had a meeting with us all in his office. “We will have to wait a few weeks for the replacements. Troop Sergeant Major Dean will take over Sergeant Maguire’s section until he returns. We have lessons to learn but not as many as I might have expected. I want us to use the mine to continue the training.”

  Captain Marsden said, “But sir, there is nothing left there to blow up!”

  “True but I want us to play ducks and drakes. Half the Troop will be guards and the other half will try to take the mine. I want every section to be as good as Sergeant Harsker’s.”

  I did not like the attention we were being given. My section were well trained but we were no better than the rest. I hung back after the others had gone. “Sir, don’t make us out to be special; we aren’t.”

  “Wrong, Tom, you are. Lieutenant Green’s report makes it quite clear that you led the section and you were responsible for the success during the attack on the Freja. Your decision to cross the dunes and not take the road was the right one. Had you gone down the road then the mission might have been a disaster. Instead of being back here celebrating we might all now be either dead or in the bag. I have recommended you for a field promotion.” My mouth opened and close. He smiled. “Now these things take time; paperwork and bumf. However long it takes, you will be a Lieutenant soon.”

  The confidence which I gained from that knowledge was immense. I told no one. Why should I? It was a recommendation and that was all but I threw myself into being the best sergeant that I could be. And to be honest the games we played, one half of the Troop against the other, were fun. We all improved. As the wounded and injured men returned it seemed to make us stronger. The cold weather, the snow, the frosts, did not make us dispirited; they made us stronger. We revelled in the hardship. By the end of January it was hard to tell who were the new men and who had served with us for years. We were a well honed and trained team. We were ready for something major.

  At the end of the first week in February Major Foster was summoned to London. That usually prefaced a major operation. What we could not know was how major it would be. Even when he came back he remained close mouthed but when other Troops began to arrive at the camp we knew that this was not just a raid across to France or the Channel Islands. We were suddenly the centre of the commando world. Was this the invasion of Europe?

  Part 2

  St. Nazaire

  Chapter 10

  Falmouth became a sea of brown as commandos found every spare bed and billet that they could. The camp numbers were expanded so that we no longer had as much as we had previously. Inevitably there were conflicts. Man is, by definition, territorial. We had become accustomed to little corners of the camp that we regarded as ours. Major Foster saw the problem early on and he arranged for engineers to come and erect more huts to minimise the conflict. He also acquired a marquee for us so that we had somewhere to brief larger numbers.

  At our level, the level of sergeants and their sections, the new buildings and activity merely served to increase the pace at which we trained. Horace was still recovering and Troop Sergeant Major Dean had taken over his section temporarily. Something was coming and we had to be ready. Our Troop found the mine to be a haven. Other sections did not know of its existence and we were able to play guards and attackers to our heart’s content. We practised with our bola; some men became incredibly adept at using them. We began to improvise even more elaborate booby traps. We even took to using the long nights to create even more effective scenarios. It was one thing attacking during the day but our natural environment was the cloak of night.

  As February drew to its close the Major was increasingly missing. Then, one day as my section was attacking Jack Johnson and his men one of the new American jeeps we had recently acquired drove up. The Major was driving and he had with him a Lieutenant Colonel and a Royal Naval Commander.

  “Sergeants, could we have a word please?”

  The four of us ran over and snapped to attention.”Sir.”

  “At ease, “This is our new commanding officer, Lieutenant Colonel Newman. He is in command of our latest operation; Operation Chariot. This is Commander Ryder who will command the naval element.”

  We saluted. I was desperate to know more but knew better than to ask. The Colonel smiled and leaned on his stick. I learned that he carried it everywhere- even into action! “All very secretive eh? Don’t worry we will let all you chaps know the details when it is the right time. I am here because the Major here sets special store by you. I must confess having read the reports of some of your missions I am impressed myself.”

  The Major pointed to me, “This is Sergeant Harsker. You asked about him, sir.”

  “Ah yes. You are Bill Harsker’s boy aren’t you?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “I know your father. You and your men did a good job when you rescued him last year. Could your corporal take over, we need to chat with you.”

  “Yes sir. Corporal Curtis take over.”

  The Colonel saluted, “Carry on and keep the name of the operation hush hush for the time being eh?”

  The other three saluted and said, “Yes sir!” The grins on their faces made it quite clear that they were delighted to have another operation.

  I sat in the back next to the Colonel. “The Major and I need your special skill set for a key element to this mission. It is why we have taken you away.” I was intrigued but I had to be patient. I would be told what I needed to know and no more. I knew that already.

  They said little on the way back to the camp other than chatting about my father. Both officers seemed to know him. I knew a little of what he did but my Dad had always kept the details of what he did a secret. I suppose that rubbed off on me.

  Once back in the office the Major put a sentry on the door to give us privacy. “Operation Chariot,” the Colonel began without preamble, “has been designed to go to St. Nazaire and to blow up the only dock outside of Germany capable of repairing the Tirpitz.” He saw my reaction. “Yes, Sergeant Harsker, you are in a unique position. You have already been there and escaped. Your information about the submarine pens was invaluable. It is one of the many reasons you have been chosen to take a vital part in this operation.” He nodded to Commander Ryder and began to fill his pipe.

  Commander Ryder went to the easel and revealed a map of the coast of France. He took a pointer and tapped the Loire estuary. “Now their Lordships are still approving the plan but we believe they will give it the go ahead. The details of the ramming of the dock gates and the destruction of St. Nazaire are not of direct concern to you. We are going to use a submarine to act as a sort of beacon. She will lie off the estuary and guide in our flotilla. You, Sergeant Harsker, are the back up.” He tapped the coast line on the map, “This is La Pointe de Chémoulin. There is a heavy artillery battery here and anti aircraft batteries too. You will be landed by our submarine and make your way here. You will use this elevated position to signal the flotilla should anything happen to the submarine. Of course if the submarine is on station then you will not be needed and you can make your way into St. Nazaire and join the other commandos to destroy the facilities in the port.”

  He sat down and they all watched me. “I take it that we would be going in the night before the raid and we would have to hide up during the day.”

  Lieutenant Colonel Newman nodded, “Quite right. Is that a problem?”

  “It could be sir. We don’t need a whole section. The more men there are then the harder it is to keep them hidden. I would prefer just to take three other men. It will be easier to remain hidden. We don’t need any more. It is not as if we are going to attack anything is it sir?”

  Commander Ryder smiled, “You are right Major, this man is a thinker.”

  The Colonel tapped out his pipe. “I think that is a good idea too. Right so you w
ill take three other men and you will land the night before the submarine has to be on station.”

  “Now what you will have to do is to identify yourself to the MGB which will lead the ships in.” He smiled, “I shall be on that one myself. If we know where you are then we can work out our course. The normal shipping channel passes almost next to the battery at La Pointe de Chémoulin. We shall be risking the shallower Les Jardinets channel.”

  I nodded.

  “Any questions Harsker?”

  “No, Major. I am guessing that we will be training with the other sections and our particular part of the operation will be kept secret?”

  “I told you he could join the dots. Yes Harsker, you need not tell those you are taking until two days before we go. The whole troop will be part of this operation and they will all have a target within St. Nazaire.”

  “Right sir.”

  “You don’t have a problem with keeping this from your men?”

  “No sir, it is necessary, I can see that. Besides they don’t need the distraction.”

  The Lieutenant Colonel stood and came over to me. He shook my hand, “I am pleased to have met you. For what it is worth I have told the Major he has my support to get you a commission. We need officers like you, Harsker. Too many who come from Officer Training know just the theory. You have the experience and that cannot be bought.”

  I left the office and my mind was a maelstrom of thoughts, worries and ideas. I guessed that, as the powers that be had yet to authorise the operation I had at least a week. I headed for the Quarter Master’s stores where Daddy Grant worked. There were some things he needed to acquire for me.