Cast No Shadow

by Peter Alderson Sharp

  Kelly nodded but said nothing.

  They remained quiet for a few moments before Owen looked up. He exhaled. “Thanks for listening, Dan. I needed to get that off my chest. Now, I’m going to kick you out of my office and ponder what your role will be. The problem I have is that we are fully up to staffing levels in terms of Troop Commanders and 2ICs. On the other hand, I don’t want you to be sculling around as a dogsbody. Leave it with me and I’ll sleep on it, after a half dozen g and t’s.”

  Kelly was about to leave when Owen added, “That sounds like the CO just returned. I’ll introduce you.” So saying, he rose from his seat and moved towards the door.

  Owen knocked on the CO’s door and entered, when called to do so. Lieutenant Colonel Daneph ‘Tigger’ Phillips looked tired and frustrated, but he greeted Kelly warmly. They chatted amiably about general things before Kelly took his leave. Phillips called after him. “Gareth will sort things out, Dan.”

  Kelly was seconded to Two Troop as a supernumerary officer. It wasn’t a perfect situation, but he made the best of it and joined in enthusiastically with the ongoing training. Most of this training was based around a beach assault, so it seemed clear that the plan was still on.

  Towards the end of the month Tigger called a meeting of all officers. Owen opened the meeting to address a few minor issues of housekeeping, and then handed over to the CO.

  “Gentlemen, it’s still on!”

  No one said a word, but the silence spoke volumes. Every man in that room knew this was a mistake.

  Phillips left a space for comments, but none came. He had expected this response. Nodding he went on, “Operation ‘Rutter’ is dead, but operation Jubilee has been born and is thriving. The main thing that has changed appears to be the name.” The CO mopped non-existent perspiration from his brow. “Phew!” he exclaimed. “For a moment I didn’t think they were taking security seriously.” There was general laughter around the hall. The CO continued, “A few minor changes: The paras are out. They will be replaced by seaborne commandos from Number 3, and Number 4 Army Commandos.”

  This was greeted by hisses and jeers around the Hall.

  “Now! Now! Gentlemen! They are, after all, our comrades.” said the CO with a note of cynicism.

  “The battleships have now been withdrawn and replaced with destroyers.” He waited until the murmurs subsided before adding, “and there will be no aerial bombardment.” This was greeted by louder murmurs.

  Someone called out, “Are you sure we are going to the same place, Colonel?”

  Phillips raised his eyebrows, before frowning deeply. “That, I think, gentlemen, is probably the bad news.” He paused, then added, “We must gear the men up for this. Keep their spirits high. Any misgivings we have must be put out of our minds; the men mustn’t get even a hint that we have any doubts about this operation. We go on the 18th of August. I will see Lieutenant Kelly in my office in ten minutes. Dismissed!”

  Ten minutes later Kelly stood to attention in front of the CO’s desk. He saluted and waited for the CO to respond.

  “Thank you, Dan.” Phillips acknowledged the compliment. “Please stand easy and remove your beret.” He waited until Kelly complied. “I’ve been watching your involvement with Two Troop. I think you’ve really made your mark there. Well done.”

  Kelly thanked the colonel and waited. He knew the colonel hadn’t invited him into his office to pass a compliment. What was coming?

  “I had in mind to remove you from Two Troop and second you to the headquarters element for the assault. Having a supernumerary in Two Troop is likely to cause confusion and my guess is that there will be plenty of that on the day without adding to it.” He looked down a Kelly’s personal file, which lay open on his desk. “The fact of the matter is that something else has turned up.” He glanced down again, as if to confirm certain facts. “You speak good German?” It was a question rather than a statement.

  “Yes Colonel. I can converse colloquially,” responded Kelly.

  “And your French?”

  “Passable,” said Kelly. “I can get by, but I speak better German than French.”

  “Excellent!” said Phillips. “Dan, you are needed in 10 Commando. They need good German speakers, but you will also need to converse with the Belgium element in the Commando.”

  “10 Commando?” queried Kelly.

  “They are a specialist intelligence unit. Ten Inter Allied Commando to give them their full title,” the CO explained. “Hence the need to be conversant in a number of languages. You are just as likely to be serving with a Frenchman, a Dutchman or a Belgian.”

  “And the German?” asked Kelly.

  “Interrogation of prisoners,” said the CO. “It’s one of their main tasks, hence the need to go in with the assault, when the information is still fresh.”

  “They are involved in the operation then?” queried Kelly.

  “Indeed,” confirmed Colonel Phillips. “They will split into two sections. Section A will go in with 4 Commando in the South; Section B with 3 Commando in the North. You have been assigned to section A, hence 4 Commando. Are you okay with that?”

  “Absolutely fine Colonel,” confirmed Kelly. “Sounds interesting. I’m looking forward to it.”

  “Good man,” said Phillips. “Don’t look forward to it too much. The German defenders at Dieppe know more details about this raid than most of the lads you’ve been training with. Security now has been totally compromised.” He looked at Kelly and gave a shake of the head. “Don’t quote me on that!”

  Kelly smiled and nodded.

  “Right then, you’d better get transport organised. The sooner you touch base with your new colleagues, the sooner you’ll have the big picture,” said Phillips.

  Kelly replaced his beret and saluted. On impulse he stretched out his hand. “Good luck, Sir,” he said. Phillips took his hand and shook it warmly.

  “Thank you, Dan. We’ll all need a fair helping of that I suspect.”

  Kelly clambered down the rope ladder and into the landing craft. A detachment of 4 Commando was already in the craft, mouths set in a grim line. Their eyes were wide with tension, standing out from the camouflage paint they had smeared on their faces.

  The dawn was just breaking as they huddled together in the craft. Gunfire had been exchanged somewhere north of their position about an hour before, so any hope of some element of surprise had now faded. The men in this craft now knew that the enemy they would be facing in a few minutes time was alert and ready to receive them.

  Kelly wondered about his comrades in ‘A’ Royal Marine Commando; Colonel Phillips, Gareth Owen, 2 Troop and the others. They were not due to go in until the main assault group had landed, and then they’d have a mopping up mission to secure the dock area.

  The destroyers were ‘making smoke’ as the landing craft slipped away and turned south east. They were to land on two of the beaches to the south of Pourville and make their way in two groups to capture the batteries at Verengaville, a classic pincer movement.

  At the same time 3 Commando would land at Puys, with a view to disabling the batteries in the north. Whilst this was happening the Canadian South Saskatchewans and the Cameron Highlanders would land at Pourville, partly as a diversionary movement but also to provide a flanking attack on the town to aid the main assault.

  With the North and South Batteries disabled, the main force comprising The Royal Hamilton Regiment and the Essex Scottish would then strike at the centre of Dieppe, with a follow up by ‘A’ Commando.

  That, at least, was the plan.

  As the landing craft emerged from the protective smoke, the beaches were clearly visible ahead. Kelly expected heavy gunfire at this point. At first there was nothing, then some sporadic firing, but none of it effective. Looking north he could see the landing craft of the other half of 4 Commando, in effect the north arm of the pincer, just manoeuvring to get onto their beaches. There came the sound of heavy gunfire but much further to the north.

&
nbsp; As the landing craft hit the beaches the commandos scrambled out and took cover in the dunes as best they could. There was a little more gunfire now, but nothing close to what they had expected. Kelly dashed from cover to cover until he had linked up with the other members of his 10 Commando section. They would attach themselves to the second troop throughout the operation and would act as an extra section.

  The first objective was an unprotected machine gun station about four hundred yards inland. The lead troop were given the task of eliminating it and set about the mission with relish. Splitting themselves into two groups, they used fire and movement to approach the enemy. One group moved whilst the other fired, and then they reversed the roles.

  From his position Kelly could see one section going out to the flank. He knew that this would cause the German gunner some difficulty because he would be unsure where best to concentrate his fire. Two-inch mortars were being fired from just behind Kelly’s position as further distraction. Then all hell broke loose from the Commandos in front of the position. They poured down all the fire power they could muster on the unfortunate Germans, whilst at the same time Kelly could see the flank section rise as a man and charge the position, screaming and firing on the move.

  There was sporadic fire for a moment or two followed by silence in the immediate area as the assault troop regrouped. The objective had been taken.

  The three troops were busy manoeuvring into position for the advance to contact at the main objective, whilst Kelly and Captain Pierre Delacroix, Kelly’s Belgian Section Commander in 10 Commando, searched the bodies of the dead Germans for anything that might be of use in terms of information. There were maps and letters but nothing of intelligence value so, when they had completed the search, they attached themselves to the reserve troop and set out for the batteries at Varengeville.

  There had been continuous small arms fire from the village of Pourville-Sur-Mer as the Canadians and Camerons fought to secure it. Now there was a cacophony of firing, heavy shelling and explosions from further north in Dieppe. Kelly looked at his watch, just before 5.20 am. The main force was making a thrust in the centre and it was now broad daylight.

  The short march to Varengeville was undertaken with little to impede it. There were a couple of minor skirmishes, but these were dealt with efficiently and quickly. Spotting the objective, they came in sight of the guns and were met by heavy small arms fire. The troops went to ground exactly as they had been trained and returned fire as soon as they were able. The response was measured and careful. They could not afford to waste ammunition, but at the same time, they needed to register their presence.

  No attempt was made to initiate the attack until the officer in charge of their half of the commando heard firing from the north, signalling the arrival of the other half of the commando. Immediately the pincer started to close. They were using fire and movement as previously, but on a significantly larger scale, so that they drew ever closer to the guns until each one was picked off in turn.

  Kelly found himself in an assault group on the flank of one of the guns. Heavy fire had been laid onto the enemy in the gun pit in an attempt to distract them, and, if possible, force them to keep their heads down. Just then the section commander in charge of the assault group, a corporal in his mid-twenties, sprang to his feet, his face a grim mask of determination.

  His men, Kelly among them, all honed to the very highest combat level, were already on their feet before his barked order of ‘Stand up’ had fully left his lips. Glancing quickly around him the corporal sprang forward as he screamed the order to charge. In a line, the men sprinted forward, screaming, yelling obscenities and battle cries as they bore down on the enemy who were frantically bringing their guns and small arms around to bear on the attackers.

  The gap was probably about sixty yards, but it seemed ten times that distance as they bore down on the position. Things seemed to be happening in slow motion. The movement of the Germans was slow as they spun around to face them. The shots were slow to come. Kelly seemed to be running through treacle instead of sprinting, and even the rounds sounded slow as they whined past his head. A soldier to Kelly’s left jerked and sank slowly to the ground still trying to run forward as he did so. Then they were on the enemy. It was like coming out of a tunnel, normal sound levels were resumed, normal speeds returned. Kelly saw the look of abject terror on the face of a young German soldier as he sent half a dozen rounds from his Sten machine gun into him.

  The assault unit wheeled around to the right and went to ground ready to defend their position. As they did so, another group could be seen moving towards them to their front. The first to react was the corporal who sprang to his feet.

  “HOLD FIRE! HOLD FIRE!” he shouted above the din before anyone else could react. His head swivelled from side to side at his assault group, his arms outstretched, palms downward in a visible signal for calmness. “It’s our lads from the other group!” he called jubilantly.

  The pincers had closed.

  The commando was quickly organised into all-round defence, whilst the demolition experts placed charges on all the big guns to ensure that they were rendered completely beyond repair. There was a cursory warning of ‘Stand by!’ followed by an earth-shaking explosion as each of the guns was disabled.

  Once the task was completed, the commando was reorganised for the move back to the beach. One troop was held behind to provide rear guard cover, whilst the others set off in their two parts to make the return journey.

  Whilst this was happening, Kelly, Delacroix and their colleagues were busy interrogating and searching prisoners. The commandos were already starting to withdraw by the time they completed their task. A few prisoners were attached to one of the troops, whilst the information Kelly’s section had accumulated was despatched with a young subaltern acting as second-in-command of one of the commando troops.

  Most of the 10 Commando section attached themselves to the rear-guard and would return with them. However, Delacroix decided that he and Kelly would make their way on to Petit Appeville, where it was thought that the Saskatchewans and the Camerons were still in action. It was felt that there might be richer pickings in terms of intelligence in that area.

  Kelly looked at his watch as he and Delacroix set off towards Appeville. It was just before 8 am and the last of 4 Commando were leaving for the beach. He had been mightily proud of serving with these men. The unit was run like a well-oiled machine, they were simply magnificent.

  Delacroix and Kelly stayed parallel to the coast and kept low, dropping out of sight if they saw any movement. On one occasion they came upon two German stragglers, probably from the batteries 4 Commando had destroyed. Kelly sent a burst of Sten gun fire towards them and they took to their heels. All the time the sound of gunfire and explosions came unceasingly from Dieppe and the village of Petit Appeville.

  They breached a small knoll just south of Appeville and had a clear view of the horror that must be Dieppe. Flashes of grenades, field guns and heavy weapons gave an eerie back illumination to the pall of smoke that hung over the town. The fighting seemed to be centred on the beach area.

  With a gasp, Kelly checked his watch. 8.20 am and they were still on the beach?

  He felt a knot tighten in his stomach.

  This was not good. This was not good at all.

  Disaster

  As the two men moved towards Appeville, the noise of the battle increased. They could now hear the sound of men shouting and screaming and the unmistakable whining of live rounds passing over their heads. They skirted a few barns on the outside of the town until a sentry in the rear guard challenged them. Having convinced him of their identity, they were allowed to cross the line and approach the centre of the village. They came upon a makeshift barricade manned by a section of Camerons under the command of a subaltern. He seemed relieved to see a more senior officer, but his relief turned to disappointment when he discovered their mission.

  The three men crouched below the top of the bar
ricade whilst what remained of the section continued to exchange fire with the enemy.

  “The position is critical,” the subaltern explained. “We need to pull out. The attack has ground to a halt, and the pressure on us is increasing.” He flinched as a burst of fire splintered the wood on the top of the barricade and sent a shower of wood chips down on them.

  “I’m waiting for orders from my Troop Commander, but I simply don’t have any idea where he is,” he continued. “You are about as far into the village as we can go now, beyond this line and you are in German held territory.” He popped up momentarily above the barricade and dropped down again. “They’re getting closer,” he said. “I’m going to pull back; we can’t hold them.”

  The barricade seemed to explode in smoke and splinters as a fusillade of rounds crashed into the front. Kelly knew immediately what was happening.

  “You’ve got a flanking coming in!” he roared at the subaltern, but he was talking to a dead man. A trickle of blood oozed out of a small hole in the young officer’s forehead just above his left eye. The fear had gone from the dead eyes. He looked calm and at peace.

  Kelly swung into action, ignoring the fact that he was junior to Delacroix, he took control.

  “You two stay here!” he bellowed to two of the Canadians. “The rest of you come with me!” Farm buildings protected their flanks so the Germans must be coming around to catch them at the rear. He sprinted with his small team to the rear of their position where they took up a defensive position. Within seconds the enemy were upon them.

  They came from the rear of the buildings on either side of the position in an attempt at a pincer movement, but they were upright, grouped together and jogging, clearly not expecting the change of position of the troops within the objective.

  A fusillade, comprising a Bren, eight 303s and two Stens, opened up and virtually cleared the area. The Bren barked again and a small group that had survived and turned on their heels, were also cut down.