by Tim Lynch
You could hear this silence – almost see it – with a tiny muffled noise underneath which was your own heart beat. At last it was broken by the clopping of heavy boots overhead. For terrible long minutes we held our breath, waiting for a grenade to be thrown down into our shelter. When none came, I suddenly decided that if I was to be killed I wanted to be above the ground. So I climbed up the stairs to the exit.16
Suddenly, Coster and his comrades found themselves in German hands and placed in charge of the ‘German-American’ hospital with orders to deal with civilian casualties.
What impressed Coster most of all was the sheer scale of the operation. ‘You may have seen photographs of a Panzer column. But you haven’t seen the endless stretch of it. You haven’t seen its speed – roaring down the road at 40 miles an hour.’ He wrote of watching tanks and armoured cars, vehicles with anti-aircraft guns mounted, trucks full of troops, guns of every calibre, trucks carrying boats and rafts and others filled with fuel for the tanks. Above all, though, he was impressed by the planning – every driver, it seemed, appeared to know exactly where he was going and drove through the streets as though he knew each one already. Within a short time, Amiens was secure. The next objective would be the Channel coast. From here, only one battalion now stood in Guderian’s way – and they didn’t know he was coming.
At noon, six Royal Army Service Corps lorries arrived at the 7th Royal Sussex position around St Roche. Their drivers had heard that Gethen’s battalion were ‘in a tight spot’ and, acting without orders or any NCOs amongst them, had driven over to help. Gethen, still determined to stay put, ordered them to pick up their rifles and join his men. Quietly, during the afternoon, the drivers left.
1300–1400hrs
Although Guderian and his division were by now just a few miles away from St Roche and the stranded 7th Royal Sussex, Colonel Gethen refused to accept the reality of his situation. That morning he had visited the town and offered his help to the French commandant, only to be refused and told by two officers who claimed to have driven from there that there were ‘no Germans between us and Sedan’.17 So when, at around 1330hrs, Sergeant Doidge reported the sounds of artillery fire, Gethen insisted it was the French firing practice rounds. Soon afterwards, a report came in that the town had fallen. Gethen, still believing what the French staff had told him, immediately threatened to court-martial anyone who said the Germans were in Amiens. When a foot patrol led by Corporal Barnes of ‘B’ Company went there and saw for themselves, Gethen insisted that it was ‘all lies’ despite Barnes being supported by a captain of the Royal Engineers. Instead, he ordered Doidge to tell the men to take off their equipment and relax. Wisely, Doidge chose not to relay the command.
1400–1500hrs
At about 1400hrs, the first machine gun fire was heard. Recalling the French commander’s assurances of the day before, Lieutenant Jackson dryly commented that it was ‘fast moving from Sedan to Amiens overnight.’ Ordered to charge their magazines with five rounds, many men could not believe an attack was imminent. After that, the regimental history describes a battle that was ‘brief and suicidal’.18
Tanks had approached the forward companies and sprayed them with fire from their main and secondary armament. With only one Boys rifle and ten rounds of ammunition for it, there was little the men could do in return and they were quickly overrun. From then on, the battle became a confused series of clashes in fields of standing corn that would continue into the evening.
1500–1600hrs
Unaware of the unfolding disaster, 137 Brigade’s slow journey continued as they passed through HQ 12th Division’s area without any contact between them. All day they had seen trains heading south at intervals of just 500 yards crammed with refugees and fleeing French and Belgian soldiers, many making cutthroat gestures as they passed. Everywhere, traffic seemed to be getting heavier and, as the writer of the Dukes’ history put it, ‘one wondered whether one would be taking such a detached interest if these events were happening at home.’19 Several men would later recall this detachment and describe how watching through the open doorway of their dark cattle trucks made it feel as though they were looking at a newsreel on a cinema screen. Still believing themselves to be heading north for labour duties, events outside seemed to have little to do with them.
Throughout the afternoon, the three trains carrying the KOYLI, 2/6th and 2/7th Dukes had picked their way northward, stopping repeatedly for air raids. At one stop, Colonel Llewellyn of the 2/6th managed to speak to the stationmaster and the two armed policemen guarding the station building. Although determined to stay at his post, the stationmaster warned that the pumps used to provide water for the engines had been put out of action by saboteurs and that news from other stations indicated that the Germans were not far away. After a brief conference on board the train, Llewellyn ordered that ammunition should be made ready and that officers should pay close attention to the terrain around the train at all times.
The track from Dieppe travels north to the line of the Somme and then turns right for a long, straight run alongside the canal into the city. As the trains moved along this open and exposed route around mid-afternoon, the German air forces hit Abbeville with a vengeance. Aboard the KOYLI train, Rex Flowers knew nothing of what was going on outside:
We were still in ignorance of the true situation. We were idly watching a squadron of planes approaching, they were not very high. We thought that they were ours! What a laugh, we never made the same mistake again. If you classed all planes as enemy ones, you were never wrong … The planes came nearer, very near, voices could be heard, shouting. I could see plainly to my horror, the planes had got black crosses on them! I could hear now, what they were shouting, ‘it’s Jerry, it’s Jerry!’ They were very low, I cannot give an estimate except they were very low indeed. There was no opposition you see. The train stopped with a jerk and we were all ordered off. We did not need any prompting. We all jumped off to the left into a small field. One chap, [Lance Corporal Sam Hunt] I can see him now, jumped off to the right, straight into the River Somme. He got out alright, but got his leg well and truly pulled. Even more so a bit later, he took his wet trousers off and put some long johns on, of all things. I shall never forget that sight.20
Luftwaffe aircrew confident in their domination of the skies.
Luftwaffe bomber’s eye view of an Allied convoy under attack.
Trapped between the canal to their left and the marshes to their right, there was little to laugh at as the battalions detrained and took cover where they could until the raid passed. As they gathered themselves together, the driver of the first train reported that he needed to uncouple the engine to get water in Abbeville station. He was never seen again. For now, the KOYLIs were completely stranded.
About a mile behind, the two trains carrying the Dukes had also stopped. The bombing missed the train itself but Colonel Llewellyn vividly recalled ‘seeing parts of cows and tree trunks falling from above.’21 As they watched the raid develop, several men, not having seen flak bursts before, reported seeing parachutists and alarm quickly spread among the ranks. Around 40 aircraft were spotted in a raid lasting around half an hour but just when it seemed it was over, another eighteen appeared and more bombing followed, creating widespread panic among the refugees.
When at last it seemed it was over, the KOYLI attempted to regroup around the train but found their ranks having to open to allow streams of refugees past. Sergeant Brown, the memory of his night out drinking champagne in Rennes a distant memory, watched in horror as a young girl of about eighteen ran through the ranks laughing hysterically, behind her a woman in mourning clothes led by her mother, both looking ‘broken in spirit’. Yet all around, he noted, was a fine summer’s day, the sunshine and birdsong contrasting sharply with the smoke and the wave of battered humanity pouring out of the city.
1600–1700hrs
On the other side of the city, 35 Brigade watched the bombing from their positions east of the Somme. Still
without definite orders, the brigade could clearly see and hear that things were going wrong but had no idea of where the enemy were supposed to be. Worse, they had no idea where 37 Brigade were. Since it was supposed to be holding their southern flank, 35 Brigade was now open to encirclement. Their first indication came at 1630hrs when a small party of the 2/6th Queen’s set out on foot from Drucat to deliver a message to the 2/7th near Vauchelles. En route they were found by a German patrol. One man was killed but Sergeant Toster was able to get word back to Colonel Bolton that the enemy had arrived. Already, the two battalions had been cut off from each other.
By then, the advance elements of the 2/7th, astride the Doullens road, were already under attack. Having been given orders not to set up tactical positions, the 2/7th had occupied buildings and set up roadblocks but lacked the means to make either secure. The six rounds per Boys rifle were soon used up and, yet again, the Germans were able to bring their tanks up and spray the battalion with machine gun fire. At 1415hrs Brigadier Wyatt had ordered him to ‘Carry out recce for withdrawal of one battalion across the Somme to protect right flank, also to consider manner of withdrawal of remainder of brigade across river.’22 Realising that the situation was hopeless, the CO decided to withdraw across the Somme – a move that had previously been agreed with the brigade commander, Brigadier de Cordova.
Sending a despatch rider with the orders, Bolton watched as his first two companies began to fall back before leaving to reconnoitre a crossing point over the Somme. In fact, only one company had received the order. What he had seen was his two companies withdrawing on their own initiative into the relative protection of the village of Vauchelles. Since the village lay off the main road, the two and a half companies who had made it into cover were simply bypassed and rounded up by tanks and infantry the next day. About 100 men were able to escape and cross the river with the CO.
To the north, Colonel Bolton and his men sat tight. Their position, too, lay off the main axis of advance and they were ignored. That night, using his privately purchased compass – the only one available to the battalion – he managed to extricate almost all his men across a bridge some miles upriver, losing only one platoon who acted as rearguard.
1700–1800hrs
The Royal Sussex had been destroyed as a fighting force in minutes but isolated pockets held out. Second Lieutenant Sevenoaks had been leading a platoon on patrol when the attack came and had chanced across Colonel Gethen driving a car, who told him to get back to the battalion. They had tried, but ran into a tank after a short distance and had taken cover in a thicket as the battle raged. They were still there.
Just as among the Tynesiders, there were many acts of courage. After firing smoke bombs – the only mortar ammunition they had – Colonel Gethen ordered his men to fix bayonets. As the smoke cleared, they advanced across a ploughed field, directly at the enemy tanks. Major Miller, OC ‘B’ Company, was seen charging a stalled tank and firing through the gun slits before he was cut down; it was a futile gesture. Just before 1800hrs, word spread among the survivors that they should try to escape. No-one was certain where the order originated although one man reported being told by his officer that he should ‘go while the going’s good – it’s suicide here.’23 One by one they began to edge away. Private Burtenshaw later reported seeing Colonel Gethen, his head covered only by a bandage, watching his battalion die. As he went forward at around 1730hrs to try to get an idea of what was happening, he was confronted by a line of enemy tanks just 100 yards away.
To the west, Wyatt had finally heard about the fate of the West Kents and Buffs and decided to pull 35 Brigade back. At 1715hrs, a message was sent; ‘Enemy reported at 1200 hrs today in vicinity of Doullens with AFVs. 35 Brigade will withdraw across the Somme and take up positions on west bank covering roads Abbeville – Blagny and Abbeville – Eu. Right flank will be refused to cover approaches from South.’24 The message crossed with a report by de Cordova timed 1755hrs ‘reporting indications of enemy approach’, shortly followed by another stating ‘enemy AFVs in area’. As communications broke down, a brigade officer was sent to try to contact Divisional HQ but returned at 1945hrs with the news that he had met German tanks in Abbeville and had not been able to contact Brigade.
Brigadier de Cordova ordered a withdrawal across the Somme, little knowing that the order had already gone out and that, by now, his battalions were no longer fit to carry them out.
1800–1900hrs
Along the Somme Canal, the crew of 137 Brigade’s second train had also absconded. As the official history of the Dukes noted:
in consequence a senior warrant officer was put in charge of the engine driver and fireman of the Dukes’ train and they were informed that they would not be allowed to leave. They became very excited, but eventually bowed to the inevitable and proved to be a couple of stalwarts who did magnificent work.25
Other sources make it clear that ‘the inevitable’ involved the Regimental Sergeant Major and a large bayonet with the support of their French liaison officer and his pistol. Colonels Llewellyn and Taylor conferred. It was unclear what was happening and, not having been briefed properly, they had no idea of where Brigade HQ and the West Yorkshires had gone. Taylor briefed Captain Gerrard and the battalion’s liaison officer, Thomas de Strahlborn, for a recce into town.
Up ahead, Colonel Hodgkinson had left a guard on the KOYLI train and led the rest of the battalion and the attached engineers along the tracks towards Abbeville, planning to cross the canal using the wooden bridge at Pont Laviers and establish positions on the northern bank. At that point he had heard no reports of ground fighting and it was still hoped that they could skirt the bombing of the city and pick up the St Pol road on the other side to continue their journey. Even under ideal conditions it was an optimistic plan since there had been no opportunity to undertake many route marches in training but now, with the men tired and hungry after their long journey, their water bottles almost empty and the ballast of the tracks making progress slow and painful, problems began almost immediately. Packs and boots rubbed skin raw and the heavy air presence made it necessary to take cover every few minutes. Sergeant Brown, leading a platoon from HQ Company, also noted the rumble of gunfire to the east and mentioned it to Lieutenant Aykroyd who calmly told him it was anti-aircraft fire. As he looked to the east, however, Brown noticed a lot of firing, but few bursts of flak like those they had seen earlier. He also saw French units quietly slipping away in the river of refugees pouring across the Pont Laviers bridge and bringing with them rumours of tanks already in the city. It soon became clear that the plan was not going to work. Reluctantly, the battalion turned back towards the train.
1900–2000hrs
After an hour’s standoff, a German tank suddenly lurched toward Gethen’s position and he was forced to surrender. He was made to accompany the tank around the battlefield, ordering his men to give up the fight as around twenty tanks broke cover. As Gethen later wrote from his prison camp:
It would appear that the battalion’s action amounted to a bluff, which succeeded in delaying the enemy advance in this area for at least six hours and probably till next morning. They could have cleared our position in five minutes had they known the real situation.26
To the west, the sound of artillery fire was joined by that of small arms and machine guns as the Dukes’ recce party found Abbeville in chaos with British and French soldiers all reporting a ground attack in progress. After hearing the report, Colonel Taylor went forward himself and found ‘the station was in flames and I saw sailors who had been ordered to get back to Rouen under their own arrangements. A French officer said that the town had been evacuated by Allied troops; machine gun and artillery fire were heard quite near.’27 It was clear to Taylor that his men were in a very poor defensive position where they were and, at another trackside conference, he persuaded Colonel Llewellyn that the two battalions should pull back down the track to a position on higher ground. A message was sent to the KOYLI second in comm
and to explain the plan but with the battalion still dispersed across the canal he could only acknowledge it and say he would wait for his commander’s decision.
‘With the help of M Strahlborn who again showed great energy and zeal’, Taylor reported a few days later, ‘the drivers and guards of the train, who had strongly expressed their intention to leave, were finally persuaded to link the two trains together and withdraw along the same line to a more suitable tactical position.’28 Work began immediately.
2000–2100hrs
The last resistance of the Royal Sussex fell just before 2000hrs when the final positions were overrun. Lieutenant Jackson, wounded four times in the battle, was congratulated by his captor and offered a lift in a staff car to get treatment. He refused and stayed with his men. It was a tense time. Major Cassels, the battalion second in command, had been shot out of hand for his reluctance to raise his hands in surrender and, aware already of the Nazi attitude towards Jews, Lieutenant Cohen faced an uncertain future.29
At the ‘German – American’ hospital in Amiens, Coster and his men were told to bring in the casualties from the fighting and assigned a driver to take them out to the scene:
It was a real battlefield. Fortunately it was too dark to get the full effect. A company of young Tommies had attacked the main column of the mechanised Germans. Like mosquitoes attacking a locomotive – and been wiped out. Amongst all the dead and terribly wounded British, we didn’t come across a single German casualty; if there had been any, they had already been removed to maintain morale. The story was current that Germans who fell were at once flown back to Germany to hide them from their own comrades.30