According to the 9th Field Company’s War Diary, the Germans killed after bumping the Company perimeter were identified as members of the Hitler Jugend, presumably referring to 12 SS Panzer Division, which carried that name as a cuff title. In fact, the dead Germans were more likely members of SS Panzergrenadier Ausbildungs und Ersatz Bataillon 16, the replacement training unit billeted three miles or so east of Wolfheze near Oosterbeek. The bombing that preceded the Allied airborne landings prompted Hauptsturmführer Sepp Krafft to move two of his three units, the somewhat confusingly numbered 2 and 4 Kompanien, out of their billets for impromptu training in the woods and heathland to the north-west in an effort to avoid casualties; 9 Kompanie, Krafft’s heavy weapons unit, appears to have been left at its billets in or near Arnhem. In so doing Krafft thus inadvertently placed two-thirds of his Bataillon between the 1st Airborne Division and its objectives. On observing the landings Krafft moved west and set up a tactical HQ at the Hotel Wolfheze, despatched 2 Kompanie to reconnoitre toward the landing area, called 9 Kompanie forward to act as a mobile reserve and set 4 Kompanie to establishing a line of outposts running inside the woods bordering the landing area centred on the Hotel Wolfheze. After becoming disoriented in the woods and briefly emerging onto the edge of LZ Z, from where they claimed to have hit four gliders with machine-gun fire, 2 Kompanie returned to the Hotel Wolfheze and assisted in establishing the outpost line.91 The timings are unclear but the outpost line appears to have been at least partially in place by around 15:45; the machine-gun fire that held up 9th Field Company’s HQ group presumably emanated from elements of Bataillon Krafft, given that the northern end of the outpost line covering the Arnhem‒Ede railway and parallel Johannahoeveweg road was in place by that time. It was also Krafft’s men who rebuffed the 9th Field Company’s attempt to secure the Hotel Wolfheze, killing Lieutenant Timmins in the process. In all, Bataillon Krafft’s initial move toward the landing area thus led to a three-hour skirmish that cost both sides a handful of casualties and prevented the 9th Field Company from occupying its planned HQ location on the eastern perimeter of the landing area. This was not to be the last contact Bataillon Krafft had with the 1st Airborne Division on 17 September, although as we shall see, Krafft made much more of the matter than was actually the case.
The dedicated Airlanding infantry units tasked to protect the landing area moved off to their pre-arranged positions soon after reorganising at their RVs and ironically encountered less opposition than Major Winchester’s Airborne Sappers. Thanks to his glider allotment being trimmed to provide machines for Browning’s Advanced Corps HQ, Lieutenant-Colonel McCardie’s 2nd South Staffords arrived in Holland with just his Battalion HQ, B and D Companies and Vickers Medium Machine Gun (MMG) Platoons from Support Company; this total had been further reduced by the loss of two gliders in the fly-in carrying men from B Company. One of the latter, carrying B Company HQ and its commander, Major Robert Cain, aborted over Kent five minutes after take-off and force-landed safely near Canterbury. The other, carrying Lieutenant Roland Sharp and 12 Platoon, came down behind German lines near Tilburg and its passengers spent the next six weeks evading capture until liberated by the British 2nd Army as it advanced to Boxtel. Back at the landing area, Lieutenant-Colonel McCardie’s men dealt with two isolated German machine-guns and took twenty German prisoners in return for two dead and seven wounded, all from Major John Phillp’s D Company. The wounded included Lieutenant John Hardman-Mountford commanding 21 Platoon, and the casualties may have been sustained in clearing Wolfheze; according to Middlebrook the town was cleared by two Platoons from the 2nd South Staffords.92 After parcelling out part of the MMG and Mortar Platoons to the Rifle Companies, McCardie’s men dug in near Reijers-Camp Farm to protect LZ S with the exception of a Platoon from D Company, which was detached to protect 1st Airlanding Brigade HQ and 181 Airlanding Field Ambulance’s Main Dressing Station, occupying houses in the aptly named Duitsekampweg nearby.93
The 1st Border, leaderless as the Horsa carrying Lieutenant-Colonel Thomas Haddon had force-landed safely shortly after take-off, came under the temporary command of his deputy Major Stuart Cousens and moved off from its rally position along the Arnhem-Utrecht railway at the bottom of LZ S to four pre-arranged company positions, with each Company accompanied by attachments from Support Company. Major Tom Armstrong’s B Company led off as it had been allotted the most far-flung position, just east of Renkum overlooking the road running along the north bank of the Lower Rhine. Four Kriegsmarine personnel armed with two MG34s were captured en route, with the prisoners being placed on a Jeep trailer belonging to the MMG Section attached from Support Company; this provoked some irritation from the heavily laden Vickers teams who were routinely forbidden from riding on Jeeps or trailers. Once in Renkum proper, B Company were confronted by a German truck on the main street which yielded several more prisoners after being shot up. The Company then established a defensive perimeter amongst houses and factory buildings including a large brickworks. Establishing radio contact with the remainder of the Battalion proved problematic, and Armstrong was reduced to relaying messages via D Company using a telephone in Renkum police station with the assistance of the Dutch Resistance. Major Charles Breese’s D Company trailed B Company before branching off to secure a road junction just east of Heelsum. It, too, was approached by a German truck heading for Heelsum; two of the occupants were killed and the remainder captured. C Company, commanded by Major William Neil, set up south-east of Wolfheze, covering the eastern edge of LZ Z while Major Thomas Montgomery’s A Company dug in facing west, straddling a track just south of the Arnhem–Utrecht railway line. Battalion HQ and part of Major Richard Stewart’s Support Company occupied positions around Johannahoeve Farm, in the centre of the landing area. Things remained quiet as the glider soldiers dug in for the night, but Major Breese was recalled to Battalion HQ to become acting Battalion second-in-command, with command of D Company devolving to Captain William Hodgson.94
The 7th KOSB landed with eight gliders astray, which reduced its strength by three rifle Platoons and a number of organic and attached support elements including three 6-Pounder anti-tank guns. Lieutenant-Colonel Robert Payton-Reid’s Battalion had been allotted the 1st Airlanding Brigade’s most far-flung mission, that of securing and protecting the as yet unused DZ Y for the second lift, which lay roughly two miles north-west of the main Brigade perimeter. The Battalion moved off at 15:00 led by Major Robert Buchanan’s A Company, which was to deploy independently in order to interdict German traffic moving along the Amsterdamseweg linking Ede and Arnhem. The road also marked the northern boundary of DZ Y, and Buchanan’s men peeled away and deployed between the Zuid Ginkel café at the north-east corner of the DZ and another building, referred to locally as the Planken Wambuis, two miles or so to the east. 1 Platoon and Lieutenant Lawrence Kane, a CanLoan exchange officer, were allotted the most westerly sector of A Company’s area near the café, reinforced with an anti-tank gun.95 The remainder of the Battalion moved directly to DZ Y, with Major Michael Forman’s B Company capturing a female Luftwaffe auxiliary named Irene Reiman and her unnamed boyfriend en route; Ms Reiman was sent back to Brigade HQ where she became an object of much interest among the HQ personnel.96 On arrival B Company and Major Gordon Dinwiddie’s C Company moved straight across the DZ and established Company perimeters on its western edge with B Company to the north. Battalion HQ set up shop just south of an embankment carrying an unfinished motorway that ran across the southern edge of the DZ, with Major Charles Sherriff’s D Company nearby as Battalion reserve. The latter’s 16 Platoon commanded by another CanLoan officer, Lieutenant Peter Mason, was despatched to occupy a group of buildings in the woods just east of the DZ along with the Battalion second-in-command, Captain George Gourlay.97
Apart from the capture of Ms Reiman the move was made without incident, and the 7th KOSB was the only Battalion that did not suffer any fatalities on 17 September. Lieutenant Kane’s men were the first to make direct contact with
the enemy, although 1 Platoon does not appear to have initially appreciated the reality of their position deep behind enemy lines. As Bren-gunner Private William Anderson put it: ‘Shortly after we had taken up position at a bend in the road, we heard a car. It was a pick-up type truck and it passed, and nobody fired a shot [original emphasis]. I don’t know why. The platoon commander shouted many things at us [including] “When I say fire - ACT!”’98 There was no mistake when two more vehicles, one of them an ambulance according to Anderson, appeared a little later. The vehicles were carrying men from Sturmbannführer Paul Anton Helle’s largely Dutch SS Wacht Bataillon 3, specifically members of the unit band commanded by an Oberscharführer Sakkel which was routinely used as a quick-reaction force, usually to round up downed Allied aircrew.99 On this occasion Oberscharführer Sakkel and his men left their barracks in Ede at around 17:00 in two commandeered vehicles with orders to reconnoitre the woods bordering Ginkel Heath. Ginkel Heath was known to the 7th KOSB as DZ Y and the SS bandsmen were thus soon to encounter a rather different kind of Allied interloper in the shape of the suitably motivated 1 Platoon. Lieutenant Kane’s men promptly and comprehensively shot up both vehicles. Sakkel was mortally wounded, an undetermined number of his bandsmen were killed and the remainder fled the way they had come in panic, with some taking the opportunity to desert.100
The units tasked to protect the landing area for the second lift were thus on the move within an hour or so of landing, but Brigadier Gerald Lathbury’s 1st Parachute Brigade and attached 1st Airborne Reconnaissance Squadron did not move with similar despatch. As we have seen, the entire Brigade was down on DZ X by 14:10 following what one participant described as a ‘YMCA drop’.101 The seemingly routine nature of the drop and lack of tangible opposition created a somewhat relaxed atmosphere, noted in the Brigade War Diary, which explicitly referred to ‘everyone [being] rather slow getting off the DZ’. This was exacerbated by the size of the DZ, which made it a relatively long way to the rally points located along its eastern edge; Brigade HQ elements did not begin to arrive at their RV until 14:25, for example.102 Thereafter it took until 14:45 for the 1st Parachute Battalion to report itself ready for action and for Brigade HQ to report the Brigade eighty per cent complete and in radio contact with the 2nd and 3rd Parachute Battalions. This was followed by an additional delay of half an hour or more while the glider-borne support elements rallied, notably the guns from the 1st Airlanding Anti-Tank Battery RA, presumably because of unloading difficulties.103 The Brigade’s dedicated RASC detachment failed to arrive at all, and Captain William Gell’s equivalent from the 1st Airlanding Brigade, No. 3 Parachute Platoon and 3rd Parachute Jeep Section from 250 (Airborne) Light Composite Company RASC with two Jeeps and four trailers loaded with ammunition, was co-opted as an emergency replacement with Captain Gell’s agreement.104 Interestingly, the Brigade HQ’s organic transport was last to appear, arriving at the Brigade RV at 15:30.105 Thus the advance from the DZ did not commence until a full hour or more had elapsed after the landing, with the 2nd and 3rd Parachute Battalions being given permission to move at 15:10 and the 1st Parachute Battalion twenty minutes later at 15:30.106 The latter had been held back as a reserve until the Brigade HQ’s organic transport arrived, and did not actually move off until 15:40.107 The Brigade HQ column was last to move off in the wake of the 2nd and 3rd Parachute Battalions at 15:45; the additional delay was necessary to sort out transport and to unpack and mount wireless sets, although the latter were not properly netted in before moving.108 The 1st Parachute Brigade was therefore not on the move toward the Arnhem bridges in its entirety until an hour and thirty-five minutes after landing.
This was a rather tardy performance in the circumstances, especially in comparison with the US parachute units to the south, many of which were on the move toward their objectives in much less than half that time. Even allowing for the somewhat leisurely move to its unit RVs, the Brigade could still have been on the move within thirty-five minutes of the drop had Brigadier Lathbury not deliberately chosen to keep his fully assembled Battalions immobile while the Brigade transport and attachments from the 1st Parachute Squadron RE and the 1st Airlanding Anti-Tank Battery were gathered in; he may also have been awaiting the arrival of a liaison officer from the 1st Airborne Reconnaissance Squadron. Even allowing for that however, the delay cannot be seen as other than needless and ill judged, given that the distance between the landing area and Arnhem made time of the essence. This was certainly the view of at least one of Lathbury’s subordinate commanders; Lieutenant-Colonel David Dobie commanding the 1st Parachute Battalion, became increasingly frustrated at being held back for virtually an hour after his Battalion was fully assembled.109 There was no real need to synchronise the advance because all three Battalions were to advance independently using separate routes and largely without intermediate objectives, and as they were moving on foot the motorised support attachments could have been despatched in their wake when they finally turned up at the RV. Lathbury’s insistence that his Battalions wait for specific permission to move cannot therefore be justified on tactical or operational grounds and appears to be the result of his tendency toward micromanagement. This in turn raises the suspicion that Lathbury simply did not fully comprehend the realities of airborne operations, nor the urgency the situation demanded, a suspicion that his plan for the 1st Parachute Brigade’s move to and seizure of the Divisional objectives reinforces significantly.
The initial movement phase of Lathbury’s plan was a very slight reworking of the COMET scheme, rejigged to include three rather than two parallel lines of advance. Lieutenant-Colonel Dobie’s 1st Parachute Battalion was allotted the northern route along the Amsterdamseweg linking Arnhem and Ede, codenamed LEOPARD. The 3rd Parachute Battalion, under Lieutenant-Colonel John Fitch, was assigned the centre TIGER route, which followed the Utrechtseweg running through the centre of Oosterbeek and Lieutenant-Colonel John Frost’s 2nd Parachute Battalion was allocated the southern LION route, running along the north bank of the Lower Rhine through the southern outskirts of Oosterbeek and into Arnhem proper. All three Battalions were to launch themselves down their respective routes independently with no provision for scouting ahead; the 1st Airborne Reconnaissance Squadron had been tasked to secure the Arnhem road bridge and Lathbury had rejected Major Freddie Gough’s requests to operate in the role for which his unit was trained and equipped.110 Dividing the Brigade into three along separate and widely spaced routes dispersed the formation’s collective combat power, militated against effective co-ordination and effectively ruled out any prospect of mutual support if any or all of the Battalion groups ran into serious opposition. A more sensible arrangement would have been to despatch two Battalions and Brigade HQ along the riverside LION route using the Lower Rhine to protect the right flank, with the third Battalion using the Utrechtseweg/TIGER route to protect the Brigade’s left flank. This does not appear to have occurred to Lathbury, however, and his more widely dispersed scheme virtually obliged each Battalion to fight its own battle in isolation and without the benefit of mutual support or control although events intruded before things got that far.
The movement phase of Lathbury’s Brigade plan thus resembled a peacetime training exercise rather than a scheme for execution in the face of a live enemy, and that impression is heightened yet further by his intended post-approach march dispositions. Dobie’s 1st Parachute Battalion was directed to secure an area of high ground to the north of Arnhem rather than the vital river crossings in the south-east of the city, which meant that Lathbury had effectively disbarred a third of his combat strength from involvement in securing the key objective before his Brigade even left the landing area. Responsibility for securing the river crossings was assigned to Frost’s 2nd Parachute Battalion supported by Fitch’s 3rd Parachute Battalion. Frost was tasked to secure not only the Arnhem road bridge but the pontoon bridge a few hundred metres downstream, the railway bridge on the outskirts of the city, the German HQ located in Arnhem town hall and
to pass a full Company over the river to approach the Arnhem road bridge from both ends simultaneously, a tall order for a single Battalion operating in temporary isolation against a first-rank enemy. Had events unfolded according to plan, a third of the 1st Parachute Brigade would thus have been isolated on the high ground north of Arnhem, a third would have been dispersed in company packets holding the pontoon bridge, the Arnhem rail bridge and the German HQ in the centre of Arnhem respectively, and the remaining third would have been holding the Arnhem road bridge. Given that each of these objectives arguably warranted the minimum of a battalion rather than a company to secure and defend them this was a classic case of trying to do too much with too little, and virtually guaranteed that the 1st Parachute Brigade’s sub-units would be isolated, overwhelmed and defeated in detail. They were spread too wide and too thin to defend themselves effectively, let alone secure and hold the Brigade’s primary objective.111 As we shall see, Frost’s defence of the Arnhem bridge was hamstrung by a lack of manpower that prevented him establishing a properly defensible perimeter at one end of the structure; it is interesting to note that had Lathbury’s plan gone as envisaged this would have remained the case, as only a single battalion would have been available to defend both ends of the bridge.
Lathbury’s inadequate planning is routinely ascribed to him being misled by intelligence suggesting the landing would only be faced with minor opposition, often with the caveat that he would have done things differently had he been made aware that elements of II SS Panzerkorps were in the area.112 This does not hold water however, if only because the intelligence did not say any such thing. While the Intelligence Summary attached to the Brigade Operation Order reported there was ‘no direct, recent evidence on which to base an estimate of the troops in the immediate divisional area’, it also noted that barrack accommodation in the area had a capacity of 10,000 and that troops withdrawn from the fighting front might also be present; this ought to have been sufficient in itself to warrant basing subsequent planning on a worst case scenario.113 Nor was this the first time Lathbury had exhibited poor judgement in his planning, for his Arnhem plan replicated errors committed in the operation to seize the Ponte Primasole in Sicily in July 1943. On that occasion a landing plan tailored to suit the numerous Brigade objectives spread the 1st Parachute Brigade across four separate DZs and a single glider LZ, which were collectively too far from those objectives but too close together for easy differentiation from the air. Once on the ground the plan again directed a large proportion of the Brigade’s strength to subsidiary tasks in breach of the military maxim about identifying and maintaining focus on the primary aim, and dispersed the Brigade in three separate locations across more than five square miles, too far apart to permit mutual support or reinforcement. The root of the problem was that despite being the 1st Airborne Division’s senior Brigadier, Lathbury simply lacked operational experience, Airborne or otherwise, having spent most of his war service in Staff appointments at the War Office or overseeing the raising and initial establishment of parachute units. The bulk of his time was thus spent dealing with personnel recruitment and selection, initial training and administration rather than operational matters; the partially self-inflicted fiasco at the Ponte Primasole represented the sum total of his operational experience.114 Ordinarily, such inexperience could have been offset by guidance from above but as we have seen ‒ and as he was about to clearly demonstrate further ‒ the 1st Airborne Division’s commander knew even less about operational Airborne matters than Lathbury.
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