Nevertheless, the Welsh Guards groupings made good progress at first, capturing Helchteren and overrunning a German battalion drawn up for a parade of some kind on the road in the process, killing many and taking 150 prisoners. Resistance stiffened thereafter however, and especially after the advance was reoriented north toward the crossroads village of Hechtel, where newly arrived troops from Student’s 1 Fallschirmjäger Armee fought the British advance to a standstill on the evening of 7 September, despite the 2nd Welsh Guards’ tanks inflicting heavy casualties.48 A second attack the following day secured a lodgement on the edge of the village but another on 9 September failed to make any headway, and the Germans responded with a determined counter-attack in the evening that cut off a Scots Guards company operating with the Welsh Guards Group. Hechtel was finally taken on Tuesday 12 September after two days of house-to-house fighting. At least 150 Fallschirmjäger were killed in the course of the five-day battle and a further 720 were captured, including over 200 wounded. Three tanks, thirteen guns and numerous machine-guns and mortars were also recovered.49 The check at Hechtel on 7 September raised the risk of the Welsh Guards spearhead being cut off by German forces located west of the axis of advance, and especially those holding Bourg Leopold and Heppen on the ten miles of road running west from Hechtel to the northward loop of the Albert Canal. This was underscored by a strong German counter-attack against the Beeringen bridgehead after the Welsh Guards Group had passed through en route to Helchteren. The Coldstream Guards Group was thus ordered forward in the early hours of 8 September to secure Bourg Leopold, five miles west of Hechtel. The initial attack was rebuffed with the loss of several tanks, apparently due in part to a lack of artillery support, but a subsequent flanking attack by an infantry company commanded by Major J. Chandos-Pole cleared the town in a close-quarter, house-to-house fight.50 Opposition at Heppen was equally determined, and this appears to have been exacerbated by demands for haste. Ordered to secure the village before dark, infantry from the lead Squadron/Company team penetrated as far as the railway station but were unable to dislodge the defenders, and three of their supporting tanks were knocked out by German self-propelled guns and at least one Panther. More self-propelled gunfire disjointed a flanking move around the west of the village, separating tanks and infantry, and the tanks were obliged to withdraw after the lead vehicle was knocked out after being mistakenly informed that the Germans had been cleared from that sector of the village.51 Infantry losses had also been severe. Several officers including Major Chandos-Pole had become casualties, and one rifle company was cut off for a time.52
The attack was thus suspended until the morning of 9 September, when it was resumed with substantial artillery support, and Heppen was cleared after a short but intense fight, and at heavy cost to the Guards. No. 3 Company, 5th Coldstream Guards lost all its officers killed or wounded in the renewed attack and command devolved to Company Sergeant Major James Cowley, who rallied the Company, established communications with the accompanying tanks and consolidated his men on the objective; he was awarded the Distinguished Conduct Medal for his efforts on 1 March 1945.53 With Heppen secured, the Coldstream Group handed over to the 15th/19th Hussars on the evening of 9 September, and withdrew to south of the Albert Canal to regroup and reorganise. The two-day fight for Bourg Leopold and Heppen cost the 1st Coldstream Guards nine dead and seventeen wounded including four officers, while the 5th Coldstream Guards lost four officers and twenty two men killed and six officers and sixty-three men wounded; the Divisional War Diary records a total of twelve tank casualties for the day, although some of these appear to have been lost in the fighting at nearby Hechtel.54 The fight at Heppen was also the Coldstream Guards’ first contact with the 88mm armed Jagdpanther, one of which knocked out at least one of the 1st Coldstream Guards’ Shermans at point-blank range, the armour-piercing shell amputating one of the commander’s legs and killing two of the crew in the process. It was knocked out later in Hechtel, and appears to have ended up on display in the Imperial War Museum in London.55
Nor was the fighting restricted to the troops pushing forward into German-held territory. As we have seen, the Germans launched a strong counter-attack against the Beeringen perimeter just after the Welsh Guards Group had passed through en route to Helchteren, followed by heavy and accurate mortar and artillery fire directed from observation posts located in the mining spoil heaps that overlooked the bridgehead. The 3rd Irish Guards therefore launched a company attack to clear the spoil heaps in the evening of 6 September, supported by the 2nd Irish Guards tanks and fire support from an attached Royal Northumberland Fusiliers’ machine-gun company and 55 Field Regiment RA. Although soft ground hindered the movement of the supporting tanks, the attack succeeded in expanding the perimeter and clearing the spoil heaps but at the cost of nine dead and nineteen wounded. This resulted in a marked diminution in the accuracy of the German mortar and artillery fire, although it remained a constant menace; four Irish Guards officers were wounded by mortar bombs, possibly at a conference of some kind, early in the morning of 8 September, for example. The Guards’ role in protecting Beeringen ended later the same day when they were relieved by the Dutch Prinses Irene Brigade. Perhaps predictably, the latter’s arrival was soon greeted by yet another German counter-attack.56
***
While 30 Corps was pursuing II SS Panzerkorps across northern France, Belgium and into Holland, the upper echelons of the Allied airborne force in the UK had been adapting to a modified command structure designed to streamline and regularise co-ordination between its British and US elements. By 1944 the former comprised the 1st and 6th Airborne Divisions, grouped into 1 Airborne Corps commanded by Lieutenant-General Frederick Browning from his HQ at Moor Park, just north of London, which also had responsibility for the 1st Polish Independent Parachute Brigade and 1st Special Air Service Brigade. These formations were joined in the summer by the 52nd (Lowland) Division, an Airportable formation that had originally been configured for mountain warfare. The US contingent consisted of the 82nd and 101st Airborne Divisions, which returned to the UK in mid-July 1944 after spearheading the Normandy invasion. Both formations came under the command of Major-General Matthew B. Ridgway’s newly created US 18th Airborne Corps from 25 August 1944; Ridgway’s command was expanded within twenty-four hours by the arrival of the US 17th Airborne Division from the continental US. The idea of bringing all Allied airborne formations and air transport units under a single unified command was raised by Allied supreme commander General Dwight D. Eisenhower in May 1944. The intention appears to have been to rationalise administration and planning and to enhance and regularise co-operation between the British and US forces, which was already occurring in an ad hoc, piecemeal manner. By mid-1944 US Pathfinders were equipped with the British Eureka/Rebecca radar homing device for guiding aircraft onto drop zones for example, and US units were also adopting the British practice of equipping paratroopers with leg-mounted kit bags for weapons and extraneous kit.57
Perhaps most importantly, a merged overall command would have permitted a more efficient allocation of air transport assets. This was a matter of some urgency, given that the British were becoming increasingly reliant upon USAAF resources owing to the ongoing failure of the Air Ministry to supply sufficient aircraft and personnel to lift more than a fraction of the British Airborne force. SHAEF had already made some effort in this direction by issuing a set of guidelines entitled ‘Standard Operating Procedure for Airborne and Troop Carrier Units’ in March 1944, although this does not appear to have improved matters much, at least in the short term. At the end of the following month the commander of the 4th Parachute Brigade, Brigadier John Hackett, compiled a list of complaints from his battalion commanders following Exercise DOROTHY, a two-day affair that began on 8 April with a jump from USAAF C-47s. The complaints ranged from insufficient sheltered accommodation, inadequate canteen provision and poor latrine arrangements to poor ground liaison, late aircrew and ignorance of British ‘Standing Orders
for Parachuting’ and drop cancellation signals.58 To be fair, some of this may have stemmed from differing operational practices rather than incompetence, as US parachute units trained and provided their own jumpmasters while their British counterparts relied on RAF aircrew, but even then, misunderstandings over such basic matters during training did not augur well for combat operations.
This and similar incidents likely underlay Eisenhower’s suggestion for a combined Allied Airborne HQ, and SHAEF issued a proposal to that effect on 2 June 1944. The idea was endorsed by Eisenhower’s superior, General George C. Marshall, and the head of the USAAF Major-General Henry ‘Hap’ Arnold on the US side, and on the British by Montgomery and presumably, given that he was looking to be appointed head of the new command, Browning. Enthusiasm was not universal on the US side, however. Lieutenant-General Omar Bradley, commander of the US 1st Army, Ridgway and the commander of the 82nd Airborne Division considered the proposed new command level an unnecessary bureaucratic burden, and were also in favour of deploying the US Airborne force in support of US ground operations, as it had been hitherto in Sicily and Normandy. They were concerned that any joint command structure would be dominated by the British and more specifically, that it might place the US airborne divisions under Browning’s command, a worry born from first-hand experience of his high-handed behaviour and empire-building tendencies. Ridgway had commanded the 82nd Airborne Division throughout its deployment to the Mediterranean theatre, and during preparations for the invasion of Sicily Browning had turned up unannounced at his HQ at Oujda. Browning had installed himself as Eisenhower’s adviser on airborne matters despite having little practical and no operational experience. He had no official authority and both men were nominally equal in rank. Nonetheless, Browning proceeded to lay out his own scheme for the operation that made it clear he would be in charge before unsuccessfully demanding to see Ridgway’s plans, at which point the meeting ended on a ‘testy note’. Within days Browning had reinforced Ridgway’s suspicion that he viewed the US Airborne force as part of his personal fiefdom by carrying out an inspection of the US 509th Parachute Infantry Battalion and then attempting to make the US unit an honorary member of British Airborne Forces complete with maroon berets, all without any reference whatever to the US chain of command.59 Undoubtedly, part of the problem was a clash of personalities, for Browning’s immaculate Guards turnout and bearing presented a privileged stereotype guaranteed to upset the egalitarian sensibilities of even the most Anglophile American, while Ridgway was a rather pompous individual convinced of his destined greatness. Nonetheless, Ridgway was not alone in his suspicions, even allowing for personal enmity, which was amply reciprocated by Browning as then Colonel and later Major-General James M. Gavin was to discover.
In November 1943 Colonel Gavin was posted temporarily as an airborne adviser to the Staff Supreme Allied Command (COSSAC) staff in London. At a final pre-departure briefing Ridgway warned Gavin to beware of Browning’s ‘machinations and scheming’, and in the event he received a graphic demonstration almost immediately on arrival. Gavin was greeted by COSSAC British Chief of Staff, Lieutenant-General Frederick Morgan, in the latter’s office in St. James’s Square. While the niceties were underway they were joined by Browning, who interjected a snide and unwarranted remark into the conversation, criticising Ridgway for not jumping into Sicily with his unit the previous July. Gavin tactfully expressed the opinion that Ridgway had handled his command well in the circumstances and that his commander’s responsibilities extended further than just the initial parachute assault. Although his account is quite matter-of-fact, the incident appears to have made an impression on Gavin, given that he specifically mentioned it shortly afterward to his new superior, Major-General Raymond Barker. The latter responded with the telling remark ‘Ah yes, he is an empire builder.’60 At best, Browning’s remark was crass and ill mannered, especially for a supposed military diplomat. At worst, it was simply hypocritical given that Browning lacked any operational Airborne experience whatsoever, or indeed formal parachute qualification. Ridgway had carried out a successful voluntary parachute jump at Fort Benning in mid-August 1942, even though as a divisional staff officer he was not required to do so and despite him suffering the long-term consequences of a serious back injury sustained in a riding accident at West Point. Neither did Ridgway’s lack of formal parachute training prevent him making a fully equipped combat jump into Normandy with his Division on D-Day.61 For his part, Browning made only two training jumps and injured himself both times, and while he did subsequently qualify as a glider pilot, this was flying the General Aircraft Hotspur which, as little more than a militarised sport glider, was nothing like as demanding as the heavier Horsa and Hamilcar types flown operationally by the Glider Pilot Regiment.62 Their respective qualifications aside, Browning’s comment to Gavin inadvertently revealed the underlying reason for his antipathy toward Ridgway. Browning had originally been appointed to an Airborne command for administrative rather than operational reasons, but had nonetheless turned British Airborne Forces into his personal fiefdom.63 However, from 1943 onward the number of demonstrably able and operationally experienced officers coming through the system increased as the Allied Airborne establishment and deployments expanded, to the point where political connections and acumen were no longer sufficient for maintaining position or securing advancement. Consequently, from Browning’s perspective Ridgway posed an intolerable threat to his ambition of becoming head of a unified Allied airborne structure, because the American was simply better qualified in virtually all areas.
In the event Browning did beat Ridgway in securing the highest Army Airborne appointment although concern over the insecurity of his position was to play a crucial and seriously deleterious role in shaping subsequent Allied airborne operations. The SHAEF proposal was approved by Eisenhower on 20 June 1944 and the 1st Allied Airborne Army was formally created on 2 August, with a HQ at Sunninghill Park, Ascot, and an Advanced HQ at Maison Lafitte near Paris. It was commanded by USAAF Lieutenant-General Lewis H. Brereton, formerly the head of the US 9th Air Force, with Browning appointed as his deputy commander.64 The establishment of the new command was the result of a series of compromises that actually created more conflict than convergence. Placing an airman in charge of the Airborne arm was met with disquiet by many Army officers. The commander of the Allied Expeditionary Air Force, Air Chief Marshal Sir Trafford Leigh-Mallory, was unhappy at relinquishing control of the US 9th Troop Carrier Command while the Air Ministry were similarly unhappy at potentially losing control of the RAF’s two transport formations, Nos. 38 and 46 Groups. As a leading and long-standing advocate of air power, Brereton himself considered his appointment a demotion; indeed, he confided in his diary that he ‘took a dim view’ of his appointment.65 For his part, Browning was resentful at not attaining the senior post for himself and being obliged to serve under what he viewed as an Airborne parvenu who was four months his inferior by date of rank; to complicate things yet further the two men did not get on personally either.66 This antipathy soon developed into a serious clash in early September 1944 over resources and priorities for a provisional operation that led to Browning tendering his resignation in writing after Brereton not only refused to heed his advice, but placed Ridgway on standby to replace him. In the event, the matter was conveniently resolved when Eisenhower cancelled the operation.67
The only at least partially satisfied parties in the affair would therefore appear to have been Eisenhower as the author of the idea and who thus presumably saw it as a validation of his conciliatory command style, and the faction led by Bradley who succeeded in preventing the top command appointment going to a British officer and thus placing them in a position to dominate proceedings. Bradley was unhappy with Brereton’s performance as head of the US 9th Air Force, holding him personally responsible for the badly scattered delivery of the two US Airborne Divisions into the Cotentin Peninsula on the eve of the Normandy invasion, and for failing to provide adequate air
support for Bradley’s US 1st Army thereafter. Bradley thus appears to have played a behind-the-scenes role in Brereton’s appointment, and reportedly remarked ‘Thank goodness’ on being informed of the latter’s removal from command of the 9th Air Force.68 The upshot was therefore a largely unwanted and arguably unnecessary new command level headed by two disgruntled and antipathetic senior officers with little if any operational airborne experience. This was arguably the worst of all possible worlds, but was nonetheless the arrangement under which the Allied Airborne force was to fight for the remainder of the war in Europe.
While the upper echelons of the Allied Airborne force were getting to grips with their bureaucratic infighting, the 1st Allied Airborne Army’s constituent formations were gearing up for operations. As we have seen, the British 1st Airborne Division, in some instances along with the 52nd (Lowland) Division and smaller units including 1st Polish Independent Parachute Brigade, 1st Special Air Service Regiment and US 504th Parachute Infantry Regiment had spent the period from June to August preparing to varying degrees for eight aborted operations. In order to rationalise the demands upon the airborne force, one of Browning’s first acts on assuming deputy command of the 1st Allied Airborne Army was to draw up a schedule of what formations and units could be deployed with what period of notice.69 By the beginning of August 1944 the US 82nd and 101st Airborne Divisions were also back on the operationally available list. The former had been withdrawn from Normandy on 8 July after losing a total of 5,245 men, 1,282 of whom had been killed. The latter, which had suffered 4,670 casualties and included the highest ranking airborne officer killed in Normandy, Brigadier-General Donald Pratt, left two days later; in both instances the casualty rate equated to around half of both formations’ pre-battle strength.70
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