The hostility directed at the new arrivals did not emanate solely from the Germans. After landing unscathed Major John Waddy from 156 Battalion’s B Company was confronted on the way to his RV by the irate commander of the 10th Battalion’s Battalion Advance Party, Captain Brian Carr: ‘You’re bloody late. Do you realise we’ve been waiting here for four hours?’ the fulminating Carr observed, before giving an increasingly unsettled Waddy a brief overview of the situation.55
In sharp contrast to the training jump atmosphere the previous day, the second parachute lift not only descended into the middle of a battle, but a large number of paratroopers also overshot the DZ. This included the entire final flight of nine C-47s, which had become separated from the main formation during the fly-in, and a number of individual aircraft that despatched their sticks late for a variety of reasons. The most far flung were two sticks from 133 Parachute Field Ambulance RAMC and one from the 4th Parachute Squadron RE, which came down eight miles north of the DZ near Otterlo. A number of men from the 10th Parachute Battalion’s D Company, including Company commander Captain Cedric Horsfall, landed two miles wide and Company Sergeant Major Robert Grainger was initially only able to rally fifty-three men at the RV, although Horsfall and the majority of the misdrops were able to reach the Battalion RV with the aid of a Dutch civilian.56 One stick from 156 Parachute Battalion was in the process of jumping when a flak burst threw the paratroopers off their feet. The resultant delay put Private David Dagwell into the trees along the east side of the DZ entangled with the cord from his rifle valise, which was wedged higher up in the tree: ‘I was struggling to get my knife free when a movement registered in the corner of my eye…and I wished I were elsewhere as three German soldiers made their way cautiously along the path below…Fortunately for me they were far more interested in the events on the DZ and, after what seemed an age, they disappeared round a bend. When I began breathing again I managed to draw my knife, cut through the cord, slap the release box and let go, to fall on to a soft carpet of pine needles.’57 Corporal David Jones, whose exit had been delayed by a refusal, ended up ‘swinging like a pendulum’ in trees north of the DZ with six other members of his stick, and landed among a party of Germans on cutting free from his harness. Fortunately the Germans fled apart from one individual who surrendered, and Jones became the proud possessor of a truck loaded with ammunition. Unfortunately, his intention of delivering the vehicle to his Company commander was thwarted by an unnamed KOSB officer who commandeered Jones and the truck to carry wounded to a medical facility in Oosterbeek; the enforced transfer became permanent and Corporal Jones never did rejoin 156 Parachute Battalion.58
Unsurprisingly given the circumstances, the drop suffered a larger proportion of jump injuries than normal. These included the 10th Parachute Battalion’s chaplain, Captain Raymond Bowers, who fractured an ankle on landing and Major Æneas Perkins and six men from the 4th Parachute Squadron RE; Perkins dislocated a shoulder so severely he was obliged temporarily to hand over command to his deputy, Captain Nigel Thomas.59 Overall, the landing was a significantly more costly affair than the first lift. The first had suffered only a single parachute fatality whereas the landing on 18 September cost the 4th Parachute Brigade approximately thirty, with the 7th KOSB losing around fifteen more killed in the fight to protect the drop zone.60 The latter included the commander of the KOSB’s Support Company, Major Henry Hill, who was killed by machine-gun fire while crossing the motorway embankment at the southern edge of the DZ after leading the counter-attack that drove the Germans back as the drop commenced.61 The combination of landing injuries, fatalities and scattering made a significant dent in the Brigade’s combat power, collectively and to its constituent units. According to the Brigade War Diary, the Brigade was between seventy-five and eighty per cent complete by 15:30 with no contact with the 4th Parachute Squadron RE or 133 Parachute Field Ambulance, while 156 Parachute Battalion reported the absence of two officers and approximately 100 men at the Battalion RV, for example.62 Brigadier Hackett nonetheless considered his formation to be ‘a going concern’, presumably in comparison with the somewhat pessimistic briefings he had made to his subordinate commanders before MARKET commenced.63
The unwieldy glider combinations also suffered from the attentions of unsuppressed anti-aircraft fire after crossing the Dutch coast, although the first loss appears to have been Chalk No.956 from D Squadron flown by a Staff Sergeant Black and Sergeant Hudson, which was obliged to cast off over the Dutch coastal islands with slipstream problems.64 A near miss blew the rear door off one Horsa carrying a party from the 2nd Airlanding Anti-Tank Battery, and three of the Gunners linked arms to form a human windbreak against the slipstream roaring through the glider’s fuselage.65 In another Horsa carrying a Jeep and trailer Gunner Robert Christie and two companions from the 1st Airlanding Light Regiment went forward to investigate a series of tearing noises, fearing it was the load coming unlashed: ‘I crawled up the floor, between the wheels in their troughs and the skin-and-frame members of the Horsa. Again the noises and sudden shafts of sunlight appeared through jagged holes. It was flak. Relieved, we returned to our seats and, as one, removed our steel helmets and sat on them to protect our vital assets.’66 Flight-Lieutenant James Stark’s Halifax tug from No. 298 Squadron lost part of its starboard fin as it approached the Allied front line, without consequence ‒ but not all hits were resolved so happily. One of the Horsas carrying the RAF radar teams folded in half after being struck by a large-calibre shell and two tugs were seen to be shot down: a Dakota from No.512 Squadron and a Stirling from No.570 Squadron. The Dakota, piloted by Squadron-Leader Trevor Southgate, caught fire after being hit, but Southgate cast off his glider before crash-landing near Kesteren, seventeen miles west of Arnhem on the south bank of the Lower Rhine. All aboard were burned, co-pilot Flight-Lieutenant A. E. Saunders especially badly, but all survived, Southgate with a broken elbow and wireless operator Flying Officer J. H. Parry with a broken ankle. All evaded capture with the aid of Dutch civilians and were evacuated to the UK on 24 September 1944.67 The Stirling, piloted by Pilot-Officer Charles Culling, was not so fortunate. The bomber went out of control and exploded on hitting the ground killing all on board, but the Horsa, carrying RAF radar equipment, landed safely near the south bank of the Lower Rhine; all aboard reached the 1st Airborne Division’s lines later via the Heveadorp ferry along with a number of other strays who had landed south of the river.68 No. 570 Squadron actually lost three machines including Pilot-Officer Bell’s plus another in a take-off accident.
In all, fifteen gliders were lost over Holland.69 At least one more was deliberately cast off when its tug was hit, possibly Staff-Sergeant Coombs’ and Sergeant Knowles’ Chalk No.964 from D Squadron, which landed at an unidentified US landing area, and three were cast adrift when stress or flak severed their towlines. These included a Horsa being towed by a Dakota from No.48 Squadron that came down five miles east-north-east of s’Hertogenbosch, and D Squadron’s Chalk No.1011 flown by Lieutenant Stanley Moorwood and a Staff-Sergeant Stevenson, which came down ten miles short of the landing zone.70 These separations were sometimes a consequence of the turbulence created by bringing so many aircraft and gliders into such close proximity for prolonged periods, a phenomenon sometimes referred to in official reports as ‘slipstream trouble’.71 Captain Morrison experienced the problem during the fly-in:
There were planes everywhere and I was beginning to ponder if there was enough air space for us all when my reverie was suddenly shattered by the first of many vicious sideslips that were quite terrifying. What had happened was that the slipstream from one of the huge bomber aircraft ahead had created a tremendous air turbulence which had hit only one wing of my glider, forcing it to swing away and to drop drastically. This, in turn, yanked the tail of the tug sideways and down and, if we had not succeeded in bringing our aircraft back onto station by heaving on the control column, the whole combination would have been out of control. Whilst we had been aware of this pr
oblem from previous operations, the numbers of aircraft were now far greater than before and this presented a constant hazard which gave pilots a terrible strain of anticipation.72
The tugs approached the release point at a height of 3,000 feet to avoid German ground fire, descending to 2,500 feet or lower for the release. Captain Morrison again:
We approached our Landing Zone at about 1,800 feet, and could see the coloured parachutes of the 1st [Parachute] Brigade dotted around the DZs ‘X’ and ‘Z’…At last I could discern our own field ahead, which had been marked with coloured smoke by the Independent Parachute Company and, when we were ready, my Second Pilot pulled the lever which released the glider. With a crack, the tow parted and our tug, with the rope whipping below, turned away to port for its return journey…I eased back on the column to reduce speed prior to applying the large flaps in the ‘half down’ position…When the speed had dropped sufficiently, I called for ‘full flap’ and, as the glider responded, I pushed forward hard on the control column, as far as it would go, until the nose was pointing straight down to just short of the near side boundary of our LZ. ‘V5’ literally dropped out of the sky and, as with the barn door-type flaps the speed remained constant, I experienced the peculiar sensation of the ground appearing to come right up at me. At 100 feet, I levelled out and then holding her just above the heath, we skimmed toward the far hedge. Eventually the two main wheels connected and, with a roaring noise, we ploughed through the heather in a cloud of dust to run right up to our station where, with a touch on the brakes, we skidded to a standstill. For a moment we sat in complete silence, realising that we were down safely with a perfect landing to the furthest extent of our LZ.73
Not all the gliders took such a direct route to the ground. One machine from E Squadron cast off from the extreme eastern side of the glider stream and made a long and unmolested approach that carried it over Arnhem and Deelen airfield. In so doing the pilot unwittingly disproved RAF insistence that the 1st Airborne Division could not be delivered closer to its objectives because of Deelen’s allegedly extensive anti-aircraft defences.74
The glider landings commenced at approximately 15:00. Captain Morrison’s V5 was one of the first of sixty-nine Horsas to land on LZ S, north of the Arnhem-Utrecht railway line centred on Reijers-Camp Farm, most carrying the remainder of the 1st Airlanding Brigade’s infantry component and aborts from the first lift. Once again, the glider pilots were ordered to land as far up the landing zone as possible to leave as much room as they could for following machines, but not all managed to comply with the order. Captain Morrison noted that one ‘had overestimated his height and…looked as if he would not clear the front hedge...he just made it but only reached a third of the way towards what should have been his final position…the following Glider Pilot, having already committed himself, had to swing to the right to avoid the “shortie” and in doing so, sideswiped the wing of another aircraft, injuring two men.’75 At least one Horsa had the opposite problem and crossed the whole of LZ S before finally touching down in the trees on its northern edge, almost killing two Glider Pilots from the first lift dug in there:
The pilot was trying hard to get it on the ground, but only the nose wheel touched, and he could not get the main wheels down. When it became clear to us that his speed was too great…we both jumped out of the trench and tried to move back [but] the tangle of undergrowth and low branches defeated our efforts, and…there was an almighty bang over our heads…a great cloud of dust arose, and when it cleared I saw that I was under the fuselage and behind the nose wheel, and Andy was behind the skid and also under the fuselage. Fortunately for us the undercarriage had not collapsed.76
Despite this and the fact that LZ S was littered with gliders from the first lift and resembled ‘a crowded car park’, there were no serious collisions or injuries. There was also much less interference from the Germans compared with events a mile or so to the west at DZ Y, although Lieutenant Donald Edwards’ 17 Platoon from C Company 2nd South Staffords came under machine-gun fire from two separate locations after being despatched to unload a glider that had crash-landed at the north-eastern tip of the LZ; the operation was reportedly carried out successfully following a ‘minor platoon action’.77
The remaining 204 gliders came down south of the railway on LZ X, which had served as a parachute drop zone the previous day. Most were Horsas carrying men and equipment from Divisional units, accompanied by up to four Waco CG4s and twelve of the giant Hamilcars. Along with a total of eighty-nine passengers spread amongst their cargo, four of the latter were loaded with Bren Carriers belonging to the 4th Parachute Brigade and 2nd South Staffords, three were loaded with stores and ammunition as a resupply experiment and the remaining five were carrying 17-Pounder guns and prime movers from the 2nd Airlanding Anti-tank Battery. A sixth Hamilcar carrying a 17-Pounder was hit by anti-aircraft fire and came down short of the LZ.78 Again, most landed safely, although one of the Hamilcars crashed while landing. According to Captain Barry Ingram, commanding the 1st Border’s Mortar Group, the machine was already in flames when it struck a stand of trees and two Bren Carriers were thrown clear as it went end over end before coming to rest. At least one Horsa also crashed into trees, injuring some of its passengers.79 However, the most serious threat came from German troops who had infiltrated through the woods on the western edge of the LZ between the Border’s A and D Companies. The 1st Border’s C Company appears to have been redeployed from the eastern side of the LZ to Johannahoeve Farm to assist Captain Ingram’s mortars in suppressing the interlopers and the Battalion’s temporary commander, Major Stuart Cousens, later recalled that the salvoes of mortar bombs had to be carefully timed so as to avoid striking the gliders in mid-air, which he referred to as ‘a successful and amusing game’.80 Even so, the infiltrators, likely from Standartenführer Hans Lippert’s SS Unterführerschule ‘Arnheim’, shot up at least three Horsas as they landed. Two carried elements from Divisional units, REME personnel and a Jeep from the Divisional Motor Transport Repair Section and men from the 1st Airlanding Light Regiment RA respectively. The German fire killed two Gunners and wounded a third in the latter, and killed both pilots and a Jeep driver in the former as well as seriously wounding the Repair Section commander, Lieutenant Harry Roberts; the German fire was sufficiently heavy to keep Roberts and his companions pinned down near their glider for a considerable period.
The third Horsa, carrying men and equipment from the RAF radar teams, was hit by small-arms fire on its final approach that wounded the pilot and set the glider on fire; the passengers survived the landing but both machine and load were burned out. As we have seen, the other two Horsas carrying the RAF radar equipment had been lost during the fly-in, one destroyed by anti-aircraft fire and the other cast adrift south of the Lower Rhine when its tug was shot down. The sole survivor, piloted by Staff-Sergeant John Kennedy, landed safely but in the contested portion of the LZ. This and a lack of manpower and motor transport made it impractical to unload the equipment, so after consultation between Staff-Sergeant Kennedy and the ranking RAF officer, a Flight-Lieutenant Richards, the decision was taken to destroy it in situ with demolition charges to prevent it falling into German hands. Most of the hapless technicians thereafter found their way to Division HQ on foot.81 Quite how the RAF party and their crated equipment were to be moved from the LZ had all gone according to plan is unclear, and it is therefore difficult to fathom the justification behind their despatch onto what was likely to be a contested landing area that was to be abandoned as rapidly as possible. The inclusion of the radar detachment in the second lift was a waste of equipment and resources, and the episode provides a clear illustration of the peacetime exercise mentality that characterised much of the MARKET planning.
That aside, the vast bulk of the 204 gliders came down intact onto LZ X and with only eight fatalities: two Gunners from the 1st Airlanding Light Regiment, a REME driver from the Divisional Motor Transport Repair Section, four Glider Pilots and a soldier from t
he 10th Parachute Battalion’s glider component. The advance party and anti-tank battery from the 1st Polish Independent Parachute Brigade all arrived safely with their guns and equipment, and the ammunition resupply effort was particularly successful. The 1st Airlanding Brigade’s three infantry Battalions were allotted a fifteen-Jeep convoy apiece, each vehicle towing two trailers loaded with ammunition, along with an additional RASC unit equipped with a further eighteen Jeeps and trailers to provide each Brigade with a reserve ammunition train. All three of the Hamilcars carrying ready-loaded trailers of ammunition also landed safely, although one machine was captured by the Germans before it could be unloaded. Unloading the remaining two was complete by 17:30.82
In the meantime the remainder of the resupply effort was taking place half a mile or so east of LZ S, involving thirty-three Short Stirlings from Nos. 570 and 296 Squadrons from RAF Harwell tasked to deliver eighty-six tons of supplies in 803 containers and panniers onto the as yet unused DZ L.83 Lieutenant David Eastwood’s 1st Platoon, 21st Independent Parachute Company had marked the drop zone in the early morning of 18 September and held on until the drop finally commenced at 15:30, despite almost losing their EUREKA beacon to the strafing Luftwaffe fighters and the sound of tracked vehicles in the woods to the east; these were likely half-tracks from SS Panzer Aufklärungs Abteilung 9 or Panzerjäger IVs from SS Panzerjäger Abteilung 9 holding the line of the Amsterdamseweg, which ran just to the north of and parallel with the DZ.84 The supply-carrying bombers had a more fraught time. One Stirling was obliged to abort the mission, probably before reaching Holland and the remainder had to run the gauntlet of German anti-aircraft crews alerted by the passage of the parachute and glider elements, although only one was shot down. Pilot-Officer D. H. Balmer’s aircraft from 570 Squadron caught fire after being hit by flak near Stampersgat, shortly after crossing the Dutch coast. Balmer, a Canadian serving with the RCAF, ordered his crew to bale out but only five made it before it was too low for further exits. The remainder survived the crash-landing near Ouidenbosch, from where they were swiftly spirited away by Dutch civilians (including a Catholic priest) and handed over to the Underground. Nine of the ten-man crew survived; seven, including Pilot-Officer Balmer, successfully evaded capture and two were taken prisoner. The sole fatality was Corporal Alfred Barker, one of two RASC despatchers aboard, who died later of head injuries sustained during the crash-landing.85 The remainder of the bombers appear to have succeeded in delivering their loads, although it is unclear how much was retrieved by the waiting RASC Jeep and trailer teams. The Official History refers to the supply drop onto DZ L being ‘80 per cent successful’, but another source claims that only twelve of the eighty tons delivered were recovered.86 The latter is quite possible given that DZ L lay outwith the 1st Airlanding Brigade’s protective perimeter and that the German blocking line along the Amsterdamseweg lay only a short distance beyond its northern boundary. Whether or not, the 1st Airborne Division’s second lift cost a total of ten aircraft. The RAF lost twelve dead along with two Stirlings and two Dakotas from Nos. 570 and 48 Squadrons, while their US counterparts lost seventeen men and six C-47s, one each from the 43rd, 50th and 62nd Troop Carrier Squadrons and two from the 61st Troop Carrier Squadron.87
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