Arnhem

by William F Buckingham

  Sosabowski’s men had again been trucked from their billets to Saltby and Spanhoe where the 52nd Troop Carrier Wing had provided a total of 114 C-47s for the lift, sixty machines from the 314th Troop Carrier Group based at the former and fifty-four from the 315th Troop Carrier Group at the latter.16 The weather looked bad on arrival, with heavy mist blanketing the airfields, although Lieutenant Albert Smaczny, the commander of the 3rd Battalion’s 8th Company, recalled being able to see C-47s parked on the edges of the runways 400 yards away. The weather report cited visibility of between one and two miles with clouds stacked in layers from 150 to 9,000 feet.17 Despite this the mission was approved, with take-off scheduled for midday and went ahead after a one-hour postponement following reports of clear weather over the Channel. The first serial of fifty-four C-47s drawn from the 34th, 43rd, 61st and 62nd Troop Carrier Squadrons thus took off at 13:10. The initial plan was to form up and fly beneath the cloud ceiling, which was estimated to be 1,500 feet, but when the ceiling began to drop the C-47s were forced to climb through the clouds to clear skies at around 8,500 feet, according to 2nd Lieutenant Robert L. Cloer from the 34th Troop Carrier Squadron, who likened the transports emerging from the cloud to ‘bugs popping out of a mattress’.18 The second serial, made up of twenty-seven C-47s from the 309th and 310th Troop Carrier Squadrons and thirty-three aircraft from the 32nd and 50th Troop Carrier Squadrons, began taking off just over an hour later, at 14:27. By this point the clouds were an estimated 2,000 feet with a lower ceiling of approximately 800 feet, and the C-47s were obliged to fly a series of ninety-degree turns in near-zero visibility until they too emerged into the clear. The process was hazardous and not solely because of the proximity of other transports. Flight Officer Robert O. Cook’s C-47 from the 43rd Troop Carrier Squadron barely missed a collision with a B-17 bomber descending through the same cloudbank; Cook’s crew chief, who had been maintaining collision watch through the C-47’s astrodome, claimed that the bomber passed so close he was able to ‘see the 50 calibre shells in the ball turret’.19

  The weather continued to deteriorate as the transports formed up and headed off toward Holland and the decision was taken to cancel the mission. For some reason not all the aircraft had been issued with the correct radio codes and around two-thirds either did not receive the recall signal or could not decipher it despite repeated transmission. Those that did were then faced with renegotiating clouds stretching virtually down to ground level, and put down on the first airfield they saw; as 2nd Lieutenant Charles Voeglin from the 43rd Troop Carrier Squadron put it to his co-pilot, ‘Get ready to put the gear down as soon as I yell, and any runway I see, we’re going straight in.’ All the C-47s appear to have landed safely, albeit scattered far and wide across southern England. Lieutenant Voeglin put down on an unidentified B-17 base, where he was surrounded by suspicious military police. One machine ended up in Ireland.20 Once on the ground the aircrew had again to face the ire of their keyed-up and disappointed Polish passengers. Lieutenant Cloer’s crew chief suggested he and the remainder of the crew remain in the cockpit until the paratroopers had cleared the aircraft as they were ‘in a pretty foul mood’, a position Lieutenant Voegelin had some sympathy for: ‘The Polish paratroopers were so disappointed. They were completely befuddled and frightened, but just wanted to get over there and fight instead of being back in England. All they wanted to do was kill Germans.’21 Forty-one aircraft were recalled, fourteen from the 314th and twenty-seven from the 315th Troop Carrier Groups.22 The remaining seventy-three C-47s, which included all but two of the machines from the 309th and 310th Troop Carrier Squadrons and two from the 43rd Troop Carrier Squadron, continued their journey along the southern route over the tip of Kent, across the Channel and over Belgium, dropping to 1,500 feet after making landfall. Unlike the preceding British resupply flight, the US formation does not appear to have been troubled by German fighters, thanks to the efforts of a ninety-strong escort of P-47 and P-51 fighter-bombers, which reportedly fought off a fifty-strong enemy force. Twenty German aircraft were claimed shot down for the loss of three P-47s and three more damaged, one beyond repair; all three shot down pilots were listed as missing in action.23 One C-47 was hit by anti-aircraft fire on crossing German lines and despatched its stick of fourteen paratroopers from Brigade HQ over friendly territory before turning back for England.24 The remaining seventy-two transports continued up the Airborne Corridor and after wheeling to run parallel with the Lower Rhine and descending to a drop height of approximately 800 feet, the lead C-47 arrived over the landing area just east of Driel at 17:08. Within seventeen minutes 957 paratroopers were delivered onto DZ K, with the last man touching down at 17:25.25

  The last leg of the flight brought the C-47s into range of FlaK Brigade Svoboda’s guns, however. The result was graphically described by 2nd Lieutenant James R. Wilson, the navigator in Lieutenant Cecil Dawkins C-47 from the 310th Troop Carrier Squadron: ‘We were all in beautiful formation and ready to drop, and we came on in and then everything erupted. I mean fire from every direction. That DZ had mortar fire hitting the ground all over the place. I looked up and saw flak cars on that railroad track, and they had 40mms, and they were firing directly at us.’ 1st Lieutenant Oliver J. Smith from the same Squadron was flying further back in the formation: ‘We slowed down, put out some flaps, cut the left engine and were flying along at 90 mph when the whole ground opened up. You couldn’t see for tracers.’26 According to some pilots, including the commander of the 310th Squadron, Lieutenant-Colonel Henry G. Hamby, the Polish paratroopers were not as swift as they might have been in clearing their aircraft. According to Hamby, on average ‘18 paratroopers would exit a C-47 in about 18 seconds. The Polish troopers had these heavy equipment bags that had to be pushed out the door ahead of each trooper, and it seemed that it took forever.’ Similarly, 1st Lieutenant Monroe Zartman referred to being ‘in drop mode for the longest minute of my life’.27 In part this may have been due to Sosabowski’s policy of restricting his men to synthetic parachute training after their training and qualification jumps in order to minimise parachuting casualties, but there were sometimes other reasons for the tardiness; the entire stick in Lieutenant Smith’s aircraft were knocked off their feet by a shell that came through the underside of the fuselage for example. Smith had to hold his course and speed while the Poles sorted themselves out and jumped.28 The formation was consequently late in turning right and therefore overflew rather than passed west of Elst, which was fully occupied by German troops preparing to block the Allied ground advance from Nijmegen; one pilot likened the blizzard of fire the transports attracted to ‘a pinball machine gone mad’.29

  Five of the seventy-two C-47s were brought down over DZ K or in the immediate vicinity, all after despatching their sticks. Two of them belonged to the 309th Troop Carrier Squadron. Lieutenant C. C. Biggs’ machine exploded on impact, killing everyone aboard while Captain F. K. Stephenson crash-landed in woods after catching fire; all the crew escaped without serious injury. The other three downed machines belonged to the 310th Squadron. Lieutenant Kenneth Wakely and his entire crew were killed when their C-47 also exploded on impact while Lieutenant Jacob Boon’s machine was hit just after despatching its stick and crash landed near the DZ. Although all but the pilot were wounded, the crew escaped the wreck before it exploded and Boon was awarded the Silver Star for assisting his injured co-pilot from the burning cockpit. 1st Lieutenant Cecil Dawkins was wounded in the face and head during the run-in by flak that also set fire to his port wing fuel tank. Dawkins nonetheless despatched his stick of paratroopers though the streamer of flame licking along the port side of the fuselage and then had his crew bail out. He survived the subsequent crash and was captured but his crew landed safely and reached Allied territory.30 Lieutenant Smith’s C-47 from the 310th Troop Carrier Squadron almost crashed after a hit briefly knocked out the flight controls and wounded his radio operator and crew chief, but Smith managed to regain control and landed safely at an airstrip near Ein
dhoven where medics from the 101st Airborne Division rendered aid to the wounded aircrew. Subsequent examination of the aircraft revealed the right rudder and trim control cables had been severed, the elevator cable was only attached by three strands and over 600 holes had been punched in the airframe.31 Lieutenant-Colonel Smylie C. Stark, the commander of the 309th Squadron, was hit in the chest by a bullet that passed through the instrument panel; his issue flak vest absorbed the impact but he was injured in the face and rendered unconscious by fragments of the instrument panel leaving his co-pilot, Captain Julius H. Petersen, to nurse the aircraft home. Lieutenant-Colonel Hamby’s C-47 took a series of hits as the last paratrooper exited that knocked out his port engine and wounded every other member of the crew but Hamby; he managed to nurse the damaged machine to a safe landing at Brussels, where an inspection revealed it was riddled with 120 holes.32 Flight-Officer Cook from the 43rd Troop Carrier Squadron also fetched up at Brussels after having his rudder pedal, hydraulic lines and fuel gauges shot away. Landing therefore involved the C-47 careering without brakes between parked aircraft before colliding with a partly demolished hangar. The crew all emerged unhurt and then departed with the cash from their escape kits to find a hotel on the orders of an unnamed colonel from another unit, possibly Lieutenant-Colonel Hamby. As Cook put it later, the mission had been ‘a hell of a trip, but as I have to admit, Brussels was a good city to have fun in.’33

  The Polish drop was observed by Captain Zwolanski and the Polish Brigade’s liaison group from a gun pit in the 1st Airlanding Light Regiment’s location, again accompanied by War Correspondent Swiecicki. The view of the DZ was partially obscured by the high dyke on the south bank of the Lower Rhine, but the arrival of the C-47s was heralded by the hum of engines and the growing crackle of German anti-aircraft fire. As soon as the parachutes began to blossom behind the aircraft, Zwolanski’s radio operator, Cadet Corporal Pajak, began transmitting on the prearranged frequency ‘Hallo Kuba, Hallo Kuba, this is Roman, can you hear me?’34 The first aircraft over the DZ was that carrying Brigade Quartermaster Lieutenant Stefan Kaczmarek, which had emerged from the clouds over England into clear but empty skies and set off for Holland solo. As a result Kaczmarek and his stick were dropped just west of Driel alone and several minutes ahead of the rest of the drop; he was therefore probably exaggerating only slightly when he later claimed ‘every gun on the ground seemed to be aimed at me.’ His stick nonetheless landed safely and recovered one of their supply containers, located the other and was busy interrogating a German straggler found sheltering in a nearby house when the remainder of the Brigade began jumping on the other side of the village.35 Major-General Sosabowski’s experience was typical:

  An exploding anti-aircraft shell burst too near for comfort, bouncing the plane to one side…The green bulb shone ghostlily [sic] above the door space and simultaneously the Jumpmaster shouted ‘GO!’…the plane bucked as a crash under the belly indicated the first of the equipment containers had dropped…The leading man pushed out a bundle of folding bicycles and in an instant flung himself into space. Number Two, Three Four…Then it was my turn…I leaned forward, grasped both sides of the door and as the slipstream tried to push me back, I stepped with my left foot into nothingness…I felt the tug of the parachute webbing on my shoulders – I was floating down. All round me, as far as the eye could see, other paratroopers were descending.36

  The Poles’ reception was similar to that of the 4th Parachute Brigade three days earlier. Every German with a line of sight poured fire into the parachute-filled sky. The result was vividly recalled by medic Lance-Corporal Bayzli Borowik: ‘We were under fire from machine-guns while we were in the air…The tracer bullets looked like arrows with smoke behind them; one man’s kitbag was hit in the air and burst into flames.’37 Corporal Wladijslaw Korob’s parachute canopy was riddled with holes during his descent; he landed next to a decapitated colleague. Major-General Sosabowski had a similar experience after landing close to a watercourse; while running for cover he came upon the spread-eagled body of one of his men: ‘He lay on the grass, stretched out as if on a cross, a bullet or piece of shrapnel had neatly sliced off the top of his head.’38

  Landing on DZ K would have been fraught at best, given that it was riven with dozens of water-filled drainage ditches and criss-crossed with wire fences, orchards and copses. The Poles had to cope with the additional hazards of mortar fire quartering the landing area and crossfire from machine-guns in the outskirts of Elst to the south and on the railway embankment that marked the east edge of the DZ; the fire was thickened by elements of Kampfgruppe Knaust as they drove south along the Arnhem‒Elst road en route to the blocking position being established at Elst.39 Major-General Sosabowski’s Brigade HQ and Staff rallied intact and rapidly established radio communications with the Brigade’s sub-units, although the news this brought was not good. The Poles’ 3rd Battalion, which likely landed on the eastern side of the DZ, appears to have been hardest hit. Some of the paratroopers clashed with parties of German troops immediately on landing and German fire prevented them from recovering most of their containers. The 7th Company was missing its commander and forty men, obliging Lieutenant Wieslaw Szczygiel from the Engineer Company to take command and while the 8th and 9th Companies, commanded by Lieutenant Albert Smaczny and Captain Ignacy Gazurek, appear to have fared better, Battalion HQ was only able to muster twenty men under a Lieutenant Slesicki. The missing included the 3rd Battalion’s commander, Captain Waclaw Sobocinski, so Captain Gazurek took command of a severely depleted 3rd Battalion consisting of fewer than 200 men.40 The number was so low in part because the Polish parachute battalions were significantly smaller than their British counterparts to begin with – under 400 men each.41

  Even more serious was the non-arrival of the 1st Battalion in its entirety. Major Marian Tonn had landed at Spanhoe at around the same time as the remainder of the Brigade were jumping at Driel where he was joined by all but four of the C-47s from the 34th and 43rd Squadrons carrying his Battalion and two carrying sticks from the 2nd Battalion; another eleven aircraft carrying men from the 3rd Battalion had returned to RAF Saltby. As we have seen, the missing aircraft were scattered across southern England by the weather, and Tonn described the operations room at Spanhoe as ‘frantic’ as he and his USAAF counterparts tried to make sense of the situation.42 It was to be another two days before the 1st Battalion and other residual elements of the Polish Brigade were dropped in Holland.

  Despite the volume of German fire only four paratroopers had been killed in the Driel drop and twenty-five or so injured; ten had suffered sprains or broken bones from bad landings, the others were presumably wounded by German fire. The Poles had also taken eleven German prisoners in the course of the landing, including five deserters who had been hiding in the crypt of Driel church, two of whom were conscripted Poles.43 The Polish casualties were initially treated by members of the Brigade’s ninety-strong Medical Company and then cared for by Dutch civilians from Driel who turned a disused school in the centre of the village into a makeshift hospital. The initiative was led by Cora Baltussen, who had donned her Red Cross armband and pedalled out to the landing area to render assistance as soon as she saw the parachutes descending. She was taken aback to discover the paratroopers were Polish rather than British; for their part the Poles had been briefed not to trust the local civilian population and remained aloof until a Private Cooney from the British 2nd Parachute Battalion, who was receiving treatment at the Baltussen house for an injured ankle, vouched for their trustworthiness to Sosabowski in person. The latter then moved his HQ in the Baltussen house where he questioned Mrs Baltussen closely about the situation and especially the condition of the Heveadorp ferry.44 After a conference with his officers Sosabowski despatched a fifteen-strong patrol from the Brigade’s Engineer Company, headed by Captain Piotr Budziszewski and Lieutenant Kaczmarek, to investigate the ferry terminal. The patrol reached its objective just after dark at around 19:00: ‘We stood on the r
amp and Captain Budziszewski shouted a big “Hello”, but there was no reply from the other side. Then he put up a flare, but as soon as it lit up, there broke out a hell of a fire from the opposite bank…The firing went on for about five minutes and we could hear it ricocheting off the stones…We returned to Driel when the firing stopped and reported.’45

  By 21:00 the entire Polish Brigade had moved up to a flood dyke overlooking the Lower Rhine, with Brigade HQ located in a convenient barn while the paratroopers searched vainly in the darkness for some means to cross the river.46 Despite repeated attempts Sosabowski’s signallers were unable to contact their British counterparts. The problem appears to have been due to mismatched radio frequencies, given that the Division Signals was unable to make contact on the Polish command or rear links after the landing and that the Brigade’s liaison group near the Oosterbeek Old Church also failed to establish contact.47 The Polish Brigade’s first contact with Urquhart therefore came when Captain Zwolanski swam the river from the 1st Airlanding Regiment’s battery positions at around 22:00. He carried a message informing Sosabowski that a counter-attack had been arranged to clear a section of the north bank to permit his Brigade to cross the river using reconnaissance boats and rafts constructed from Jeep trailers; this prompted Sosabowski to call a midnight conference to organise the order of crossing.48