Sword Beach (Combined Operations Book 6)

by Griff Hosker

  Major Rose saw me wrinkle my nose, "You will get used to it old chap. They use any buildings which are still standing. The German bombers have destroyed many fine buildings. London will not be the same when this is all over. The war and all that."

  "Captain Harsker! Good to see you again!"

  I looked up to see Lieutenant Hugo Ferguson. I had last seen him in Sicily where he had been our liaison officer.

  "What are you doing here?" My face fell, "Don't tell me, Major Fleming is here too?" My heart sank. I did not get on well with the ambitious and cavalier officer.

  "Colonel Fleming, remember? Yes he is here. We will be giving the briefing today. He is part of this operation. He is one of the planners." He led us towards a stairway. "How are the chaps? How are Alan and the crew of the 'Lady Luck'?" When we had been in Malta and Sicily Hugo had got to know the crew well. It was as close as he ever got to action.

  "'Lady Luck' was badly damaged. They are trying to rebuild her again. They lost the chief and some of the other crew, it was a rough operation. But my lads are fine. You are happy here?"

  "Oh yes; this operation is big. Huge!"

  The shabby door through which we entered did not prepare me for the enormous room which lay beyond. I guess they had knocked rooms through when they had taken over the building. Colonel Fleming sat at the head of the table, smoking. No one else was present. Hugo nodded to two spare seats and we sat. I saw a large map on the wall. It showed the coast from Holland down to Normandy. From the arrows I could see I guessed that the invasion would take place in Normandy. That would be a long crossing!

  The Colonel's voice made me start, "I trust, Captain, that you will keep this knowledge to yourself."

  "Of course, sir."

  "We are expecting a couple of guests this morning but I see no reason why we should not begin the briefing." He lit another cigarette. The smoke from that, allied to Major Rose's pipe, made it feel as though I was in a London fog.

  "The Major knows the background to your mission but not the detail. We were still working on the plan last week." He stood, using a pointer to illustrate his comments." We will be invading Normandy, here. It will be next year. You're one of a number of teams sent over to make the enemy think that the Pas de Calais," he tapped the area across the Channel from Dover, "will be the intended target. " He stubbed his cigarette on the floor and lit a third. "Any questions so far, Captain?"

  "We have been in that area number of times, Colonel. Every time there are more defences. I am not certain of the value of such raids. We will need the skills of our Commandos when we invade."

  "Since you were there last they have quadrupled!" He seemed almost pleased. "The strategy is working!"

  It begged the question how we were to achieve our aims given the size of the enemy forces.

  "Now we have been clever about this. Although we are softening up the guns on the coast with the bombers we intend you and the other teams to attack the hinterland. It would be a logical strategy if we were intending to invade the Pas de Calais. Your team will be dropped behind enemy lines. Your targets will be bridges, roads and railway lines." He tapped four places some thirty miles from the coast.

  "Sir, what about the French resistance? Surely they would be better placed for such operations."

  "In theory, yes, Major Rose, however some have been infiltrated and our radio transmissions intercepted. This is a method guaranteed to bring success." Colonel Fleming was driven by the need to succeed. His glory came at the expense of others. "Captain Harsker and his team will go in by Dakota and be picked up by sea."

  I saw an immediate problem. "Sir, how do we coordinate the pick up? If radio transmissions are being intercepted, we can't use that method."

  "Quite right, Captain. You were chosen because, even amongst commandos, you have shown great skill at evading the enemy. We will be giving you a time and a place with a secondary one twenty hours later."

  Major Rose turned and stared at me. I saw questions in his eyes. I shrugged, "We have used this method before. I am still here." The way the Colonel had said it made it sound as though it was easy. It was anything but.

  The door behind me opened. Colonel Fleming glanced over as a hand gripped my shoulder, "Tom, I heard you in the building. Thought I'd pop in and say hello."

  I turned and saw Major Foster standing there. It had been the Major, then a Captain, who had got me into the Commandos. He had been seconded to the War Office before we were sent to Africa. I stood and shook his hand, "Haven't seen you in ages, sir. Things still going well?"

  He nodded, "I am kept busy. Planning all this." Colonel Fleming coughed. "Anyway I'm intruding. Perhaps I will see you later eh?"

  " I hope so."

  He nodded to Fleming who waved an irritated hand. After the door had closed the Colonel continued, "Your first mission will be in ten days time. You and three of your team will be dropped behind enemy lines." He went to the map on the wall. "Here. Before you leave I will give you the maps and details. There is a railway which crosses the road. We wanted it destroying. As it is only twenty miles from Calais and the coast you should be able to get back to the rendezvous with time to spare." He had never been behind enemy lines; he had no idea of the problems posed by such an escape. At least there would be only three of us I had to think about.

  "Major Rose, you will ensure the rest of the Captain's team is kept in readiness for his return. There will be a second mission a week after the first."

  I began to realise the importance of his plans.

  "This is not a one-off then, sir?"

  "No, Harsker. We have four such raids planned before the New Year. After that you will get a respite." Ominously he left it at that. I deduced we would be doing something similar in the New Year.

  The door opened and the Colonel sprang to his feet. Major Rose and I couldn't see who it was but if they were senior to the Colonel that meant they were senior to us. We stood to attention too.

  The cloud of cigar smoke gave me an idea of the identity one of the men. It was confirmed when the Prime Minister, Winston Churchill, appeared followed by the commanding, six feet tall figure of Lord Lovat. He was in charge of the 1st Special Service Brigade and as such the most senior officer.

  The Prime Minister said, "Just a flying visit. I wanted to meet this young man I have heard so much about. Introduce us, Simon."

  Lord Lovat, whom I'd met before, said, "Prime Minister, this is Captain Harsker. He's recently returned from Italy."

  The Prime Minister put out a podgy hand, "Knew your father; commanded him after the Great War. A splendid fellow. I can see from your medals that you are a chip off the old block."

  "Thank you, sir."

  "Captain Harsker has been put forward for the Victoria Cross, Prime Minister."

  "Just like your father. I have read reports about you. You are a killer. That's good; the Nazis are ruthless." When he said 'Nazi's' the 'a' seemed to go on forever. "We have to be as tough as they are. We can't play the game like gentlemen any longer. We are fighting thugs and we have to be as tough as they are." I nodded. "What do you and your chaps think of this Hitler Order?"

  "They don't like it, sir. But we make sure we don't get caught. The Germans made a mistake with that order. It makes the men fight even harder. If you are going to be shot anyway then why surrender?"

  "Precisely!"

  Lord Lovat said, "You realise, Captain, that the role of the commandos is changing? Those who are in a position of power have deemed that we will become like regular troops soon."

  I pointed to the map, "Surely sir, you will always need small groups to go behind enemy lines and cause havoc? Lawrence in the Great War showed how effective that could be. Remember the Spanish fighting Napoleon? They tied up much greater numbers of French troops with a handful of dedicated fighters." I took confidence from the Prime Minister's nods. "Do not throw the baby out with the bathwater, sir!"

  That made the Prime Minister roar with laughter. "I have not heard tha
t in a long time. Don't worry, Captain Harsker, you and Colonel Fleming think alike. Well we must be off. Say hello from me to your father the next time you see him, eh?"

  And then they were gone. I saw that Colonel Fleming had a wide grin on his face. It seemed we were to be bed fellows for some time to come. If the Prime Minster thought well of me then the Colonel would continue to use me as he climbed the greasy pole to General.

  On the overnight train, travelling back to Falmouth, I could not sleep. Major Rose had consumed enough drink before we went to our compartment to be able to sleep sitting up. My mind, on the other hand, was filled with the problems and challenges of the mission. I studied the maps for the first operation. I was grateful that this first one, extraction apart, looked to be fairly easy. The railway bridge over the road was far enough from houses to suit us down to the ground.

  It seemed I was to be on every raid while I would rotate my men. I already pencilled in the three whom I would take on the first raid: Sergeant Poulson, Corporal Fletcher and Private Beaumont. Whilst being the newest member of my section, Roger Beaumont was very clever and understood explosives. Scouse and Polly had shown themselves to be resourceful. Neither panicked no matter what problems manifested themselves.

  Then I examined the maps. Getting to the target would be easy. A stick of four men could not drift far off course. The demolition of the bridge and railway line looked to present no problems. It was the extraction I did not relish.

  The pick up by a motor launch would be to the west of the Cap Gris Nez. There were cliffs there. We needed to abseil down them. That was difficult but not a problem. It was the journey there that would present difficulties. I realised we would need to use all the darkness which would be available once the demolitions went off. The manhunt would be on and we would be in danger. The fastest time we could make would be four hours. I doubted that we would have that luxury. I guessed we would be five miles short by dawn. I scanned the map and aerial photograph for a sign of cover. I found one; there was a copse at the edge of a field close to the cliff. I put the papers and maps back into the locked briefcase I'd been given. It was handcuffed to my wrist.

  I listened to Major Rose snore as I planned the rest of the task I had been given. I would put Gordy Barker in charge of preparations for the other raids. He was experienced and would ensure that everyone knew what they were doing. The second raid was to be on a large railway junction to the north of the line. The RAF had hit it repeatedly but despite heavy losses it continued to function. We would be more precise. We would destroy the points themselves; they would be harder to repair.

  The third and fourth targets were going to be the most difficult as they were communication centres. They were just five miles from the coast. Our extractions there would be simpler but we would have more Germans to contend with. They could be messy operations.

  I briefed the whole of the section on the first two operations. I did not tell them of their purpose. I knew I was being cold and calculating but if they were captured and tortured they could not give the details of the invasion away. I explained who I would be taking on the first two missions. Disappointment was on the faces of the others but that could not be helped. We spent the short time available to us working out how to make the most use of the explosives we would take. Private Beaumont had been going to go to University to study Engineering. Knowing how to make things made it even easier to work out how to destroy them.

  Chapter 2

  Our Dakota pilot, Flight Lieutenant Johnson, was new to this kind of clandestine venture. He had been part of the flight which took in the ill-fated paratroopers in the Sicily invasion. The losses there had shaken him. That showed on his face and the way he nervously puffed on his cigarettes. I wondered why he had been selected for this hazardous mission. Flying alone over occupied France was never easy. The airfield, not far from Southampton, was covered in Dakotas. They were all heavily camouflaged. I worked out what they would be needed for. Driving to the airfield we had seen vast camps being erected. I had guessed that they were for the troops who would be participating in the invasion. The Dakotas, I had no doubt, would take in the paratroopers who would drop behind enemy lines.

  The Lieutenant ground out his cigarette. "Sir, I have never done this sort of thing before. We go in alone, is that right?" I nodded. "Drop you then we tootle off home?"

  "Yes Flight Lieutenant. So the closer to the target we drop the better for us."

  He looked nervous as he puffed on another cigarette. "Thing is, sir, normally we have lots of other birds in the air. Finding the target is easy, we just follow my leader. This sounds a lot trickier."

  Nodding I said, "We are twenty miles due east of Calais. You can use a compass and airspeed indicator. I think the flak from the guns will be a good indicator of our position. Have you a good flight sergeant?"

  "Oh yes. Flight Sergeant Wilson was in the service before the war."

  "Good. He will have a better handle on things. Don't worry. The others will get easier after this."

  "Others, sir?"

  "I'm guessing that having been given this one you will have other drops to make."

  I smiled, my words had not been reassuring for the young pilot. As we went to get our chutes Scouse Fletcher shook his head. "Doesn't fill you with confidence does he sir?"

  Polly shook his head, "Not everyone is a cocky Scouser who thinks he can get by with a cheeky smile and a bit of cheerful banter."

  " If the army was made of lads from the Pool Sarge, the war would have been over long ago." He spread his arms, "I am one man! What can I do?" The other two laughed. Scouse was a one off. I was glad I had him with me.

  Our Bergens were filled with explosives, detonators, and camouflage netting. Daddy Grant had advised us to hang onto them. They were being replaced by standard issue. We liked our Bergens. When the order came to exchange them my section had feigned innocence. Scouser had said, "Left them in Salerno sir. I bet some thieving Pongo had them away eh sir?"

  The same thing had happened with the Thompsons and the Colts. Major Rose had shaken his head in disbelief." You chaps have been unlucky, most unlucky with your equipment."

  Scouser had chirped, "Yes sir, it was all I could do to hang onto me skivvies!"

  We climbed aboard at dusk. With just four of us and Flight Sergeant Wilson in the main cabin it seemed a huge empty space. While the aircrew ran through their pre flight check the Flight Sergeant handed me my Bergen and said, "Excuse me, sir would you be related to group Captain Harsker?"

  It was his old rank and I nodded," I am his son."

  His face lit up. "A good pilot sir. I served briefly under him but his name is a legend. I'll make sure we hit the drop zone." He spoke quietly "The Flight Lieutenant is a good pilot too sir. He just lost his way a bit when his brother brought it over Sicily. He is the best pilot in the squadron. Squadron Leader Markwell knows that. Between you and me sir I think this is a way to build his confidence."

  That explained a great deal."Thanks Flight. I appreciate your confidence."

  He nodded, "It is like you are one of the family sir. You grew up in the service. You understand." I did indeed. Even in peacetime there was a bond in a squadron. Everyone relied on everyone else. The pilots couldn't do what they did without the aircraftsmen. Everyone understood that.

  When the doors closed the Dakota became a tomb. With just his own aircraft to worry about the pilot soon had us in the air. We blacked up as we headed east. We had checked our weapons and equipment more times than enough. We sat in silence. My men knew their business. I had no new ones to worry about. That would only happen when we lost men. It was my job to ensure that we lost no more Commandos. I ran through the plan in my mind. The door to the cockpit opened as Flight Sergeant Wilson emerged. He said nothing, he did not need to.

  I rose and my men rose with me. I clicked my parachute on the rail in the centre and followed the Flight Sergeant to the door. As it began to open Polly checked my parachute and then tapped me
on the shoulder. I turned and made sure that he was hooked on securely too. The red light came on when the door was opened. There was a rush of roaring air. Speech would be impossible. Flight Sergeant Wilson waved us forward. As I reached the door the red light changed to green and I stepped out into space!

  No matter how many times I did this it was always a relief when the parachute blossomed open above me. I looked down to darkness. The flak which had assaulted us before Calais had now stopped and the skies were eerily silent. I opened my legs to look down at the ground. I was hoping for something which would give me a clue as to my position. I caught sight of the shiny rail which showed me that we were close to the railway. I headed for it by tugging on the cords.

  As I drew closer to the ground I spied some open land. It looked like bombs had flattened a building of some description. I steered my parachute for it. I braced myself for the landing, flexing my knees and springing up to make an upright landing. I began to gather in my parachute. Taking out my dagger I slashed the cords. They would come in handy. I rolled up the parachute. After taking off the webbing I jammed the chute into the Bergen. I discarded the webbing. That was a deliberate act. It would protect the local populace and show that we were the enemy and the saboteurs had come by air.

  By the time I stored the canopy the others had landed. I took out my Colt and fitted my silencer. They also tried to rid us of them. I took out the map and my compass. We were three-quarters of a mile from our target. With Sergeant Poulson bringing up the rear we set off.

  One worry we had was traffic on the railway line. We had rubber soled shoes on and I kept touching the rail to my right. The vibration from any train on the tracks would be transmitted to me. As soon as I heard traffic ahead I stopped. It meant we were close to the road. I edged towards the bridge which crossed the road. I had hoped it would be quiet enough so that we could have walked down without observation. The one car which passed appeared to be the only one and the road looked to be empty in both directions.