by Ian Blake
Shortly afterwards the first group of men from Bob Baring’s detachment arrived. By now the perimeter of troops around the port was under heavy pressure and mortar bombs were falling among the buildings. The general opinion was that the Germans would launch an attack at dawn.
Baring and Tiller divided the SBS men between the caiques, which then sailed for Portolago, the principal harbour of Leros. Tiller, guessing that the perimeter would not hold when the German attack came, went with the last caique and at Portolago met up with Maygan, who told him that Kos had fallen.
9
With Kos lost, the caiques of the Levant Schooner Flotilla worked at night between the island and Leros to rescue as many of the British garrison as they could. The SBS landed patrols to scour the island to find any soldiers who had evaded capture and had them taken by the caiques to safety on Leros. But after a week no more could be found, the operation was abandoned, and LS8 sailed for Simi.
During the first night the meltemi blew and its autumn chill swept over the caique as it crept southwards around the Turkish coastline. Across the strait which divided Kos from the mainland they could see that part of the port of Kos was still smouldering, and Tiller wondered how many British soldiers had been lost on the island by the dramatic collapse of its defences.
Just before dawn they found shelter in a narrow, uninhabited Turkish bay which was sheltered from the fierce and persistent wind by a small island to the north of it. The camouflage netting was erected and the day spent sleeping. At dusk they set off again under a cloudy sky which threatened rain.
Soon after rounding Cape Krio the Matilda engine gave up again and nothing Bryson did could coax it to restart. They were forced to hoist the sails, which, with the wind on the starboard quarter, gave the caique a soaring, bouncing motion that curdled their empty stomachs.
When dawn broke the sky was grey and they approached the port of Simi in a rainstorm. Then the wind dropped and they sat in the bay with rain tipping down on top of them until eventually Larssen sent out the Italian garrison’s launch to tow them in.
Larssen greeted them with the news that intelligence in Cairo had just intercepted German signals which indicated that they had decided to occupy Simi. He also said that the fall of Kos had unnerved the Italian garrison to such an extent that some of them had abandoned their uniforms and weapons, and had taken to the hills in civilian clothes.
‘They know what happens to them when the Krauts come here,’ he said to Tiller and drew his right forefinger across his throat. Tiller noticed that Larssen said ‘when’ not ‘if’.
In the days that followed the Blohm and Voss twice circled Simi port and once an Me109 flew straight and low down the length of the bay. Then at dawn one morning the Italian observation post at the southern end of Simi called excitedly on their landline that they could see two or three ships approaching. As the light improved they identified one of them as a large caique. It was flying the Kriegsmarine ensign and its deck was crowded with soldiers. Following it was a small landing-craft, also crowded with soldiers, and a sleek speedboat which in peacetime must have taken tourists on day trips round the smaller islands, or perhaps had been the valued property of a local tycoon.
Larssen ordered Tiller and Barnesworth to round up as many of the garrison as were left. The two SBS men searched the castle, which was now suddenly empty and deserted, and it was not until they began combing through the outbuildings that they came across about twenty men huddled together.
Tiller bawled at them to get to their feet as the Germans were on their way, a fact that the Italians, judging by the expressions on their faces, already knew. As they reluctantly began to gather their equipment, Perquesta appeared and began to harangue them in rapid Italian.
‘Tell them,’ Tiller told Perquesta, ‘that for them the war is not over. They are going to fight the invaders of their territory and they are going to fight bravely.’
This was received in sceptical silence.
‘Tell them that I shall see that they fight bravely because I shall be right behind them. Tell them that when they attack the Germans some of them may die. But if they don’t attack when ordered they will die for sure. Because I shall be behind them and will shoot anyone who does not obey.’
Perquesta looked at Tiller open-mouthed. ‘Signore, you cannot do that,’ he stuttered. ‘The Geneva Convention ... It does not ... ’
‘Fuck the Geneva Convention,’ said Tiller. ‘This is my Geneva Convention.’ He tapped his Sten gun. Perquesta swallowed hard. His translation had a marked effect on the garrison.
‘I think they think you mean it, Tiger,’ said Barnesworth.
‘I fucking do,’ said Tiller and realized that in the last few weeks he had learnt a lot from Larssen. He turned to Perquesta and saluted him smartly. ‘Right, sir. Let’s have them outside with weapons loaded.’
Led by Perquesta, the garrison marched in silence down to where Larssen and the other SBS men awaited them. The German patrol, Larssen told them, was coming in to Pethi Bay, just south of Simi port, according to the Italian lookout post there. ‘You and Billy come with me and this mob,’ he said to Tiller. ‘I want Ted Warrington and the rest of the boys as a second line of defence just outside the port.’
They trudged up the barren hillside that divided the two bays and along the top of which stood a line of old windmills. Just before they reached the skyline Larssen ordered them to halt while he went forward to reconnoitre. He came back with a grin on his face.
‘There’s about twenty of them,’ he said. ‘They’re only just beginning to climb the path to the port. I can’t see if they’ve got any mortars but apart from one Spandau, they’re only armed with rifles and Schmeissers. From the way they’re carrying them, they don’t seem to be expecting much opposition. We’ll move up to the crest, rake them with fire, then charge them with fixed bayonets.’
‘Bayonets?’ Perquesta looked appalled.
‘Yes, bayonets. Tell your men to fix bayonets, Lieutenant.’
The SBS team watched with grim amusement as the Italians drew their bayonets and clipped them on their rifles.
‘If the Krauts don’t die from bayonet wounds, they’ll die from tetanus,’ Barnesworth said. ‘Some of those bayonets haven’t been out of their scabbards since the war started.’
The garrison were now ordered to spread across the hillside, with Barnesworth and Tiller covering them from the more vulnerable right flank. They moved up to the crest and when Larssen gave the order they opened fire on the German patrol below them.
To the surprise of the SBS the garrison gave a good account of themselves at first and several Germans fell. But once the enemy had gone to ground and began returning fire the Italians seemed to lose heart.
It was then that Larssen leapt to his feet and ordered the garrison to charge.
Luckily the German machine-gunner was too eager and the first burst from his Spandau was too high. But it was enough to make most of the Italians scramble back over the crest. Tiller wondered if Larssen would ever even get them on their feet again. He wished he had Giovanni and his cousin with him. They would have shown this lot what to do. He wormed his way over to Larssen, who had also been forced to take cover after the abortive bayonet charge. ‘Do we wait for them to come to us, skipper, or do you and I and Billy go and get them?’
Larssen rubbed the stubble on his chin. ‘There’s not much cover up here. If they’ve got a mortar it will be a blood-bath, and anyway the Eyeties will just run for it. At least they haven’t done that yet. You and Billy take some of them and try and get round the Krauts’ flank. Then I can charge them while you give me covering fire.’
‘Worth a try, I suppose.’
Tiller collected some of the more willing Italians, and under cover of the crest began making his way cautiously to the right. After a while he moved forward to reconnoitre and saw, about 500 yards away on the next headland, the remains of an old stone building. The ground sloped away sharply in front of it down int
o Pethi Bay, which he could now see from where he was lying. The ground in front of him was a series of small ridges which sloped more gradually towards the bay. He could see one or two enemy soldiers moving in and out of the stone building and wondered how many more of them there were. He could also see the top of the mast of the German caique at anchor in the bay and hoped he would get a chance to sink it. In the meantime there was the German patrol to dispose of.
Tiller gestured for Barnesworth to come forward and handed him the binoculars. ‘That stone building. What are they up to?’
‘Bringing up stores from the ships,’ Barnesworth said. ‘They must think they’ve come to stay. How much further to go, do you reckon?’
‘Another hundred yards or so. Then we should be able to enfilade the patrol.’
Tiller signalled for the Italians to follow him and when he saw the patrol scattered across the hillside below him ordered them to open fire. The Germans scattered but there was nowhere for them to go except back to the beach and when they saw Larssen charging down the hillside driving the Italians in front of him most of them turned and ran back towards the bay. They were followed by concentrated fire from Tiller’s group of Italians, who were visibly excited at seeing them on the run.
‘Now what, skipper?’ Tiller said when he met up with Larssen.
‘There are more of them than I thought,’ the Dane admitted.
‘There are more of us than they thought, skipper,’ Barnesworth said.
‘But most of our men won’t budge,’ Larssen said in disgust. ‘I think we have to try another tack. We’ve got the caique and the MAS boat. We attack them from the sea. If we sank their ships they’d be cut off. You keep the bastards’ heads down, Billy. Any of your Eyeties still in the fight?’
‘One or two,’ said Barnesworth. ‘They saw the Krauts running. That cheered them up.’
‘I’ll send Kristos up to you with any extra men he can find. Tiger, you and I will take the caique round to the bay. I want Ted and the others aboard the MAS boat. If the Kraut boats come out, all well and good. If not we’ll go in and get them.’
Despite Bryson’s efforts LS8’s engine was still not functioning. But the weather had cleared now and a ‘soldier’s breeze’, as Maygan called it, was blowing off the Turkish coast, the perfect direction if they had to enter Pethi Bay. An Italian Breda was added to the caique to supplement the Solothurn and Bren, and the sails were hoisted.
‘When was the last time the Royal Navy fought a battle at sea under sail,’ Maygan wondered aloud. ‘We’re making history, lads.’
‘Tell me, Andrew, what’s a soldier’s breeze?’ Larssen asked curiously.
‘One that even a soldier could sail in, of course.’
Balbao was to take the MAS boat in a wide circle so as to approach Pethi Bay from the east. Hopefully this, and the fact that it was flying an Italian ensign, might confuse the invading force and perhaps even make them hesitate to open fire on it. The caique had to tack out of the bay. This took a while and the sun was low in the sky by the time they passed the headland which protected the northern end of Pethi Bay.
Occasionally the faint sound of firing drifted across the caique from the hillside.
Gradually the bay began opening up in front of them and after a while the ruined stone building on the far side of the bay came into view.
The caique was flying the Turkish ensign, which Maygan hoped might baffle the Germans temporarily. But as soon as it was spotted a warning burst was fired over it from the Spandau which had been set up in the stone building. When the caique ignored this another burst cut up the water ahead of it.
By this time those aboard LS8 could see the German caique at anchor. Beyond it the landing-craft and the speedboat had been beached.
‘See to that Spandau, Griffiths,’ Maygan shouted and the leading seaman whipped the cover off the Solothurn and began pumping shots at the ruined building while Tiller and Warrington opened fire on the caique.
‘Hoist the white ensign,’ Maygan ordered Bryson. It was already attached to its halyard and seconds later it was fluttering at the truck of the mast.
Figures began running from the stone building down towards the bay. Bullets from the Spandau kicked up the water around the caique and the caique shivered as the Solothurn fired back. Tiller could see bits flying off the German caique as the Bren and the Breda raked its decks. Beyond it he could see the heavy machine-gun aboard the landing-craft being swivelled towards them.
Tiller lifted the sights of the Breda a couple of notches and fired a short burst at the landing-craft. The man pedalling the machine-gun mounting around fell backwards but another immediately took his place.
‘Put the Kraut caique between us and that machine-gun,’ Larssen shouted at Maygan. Maygan nodded and altered course.
But the German caique had been cut loose from its anchor and its engine started, and it began to move slowly across the bay as it continued to be hit by the fire from LS8.
Larssen tried to drop its helmsman with a burst from the Bren but the man’s position was well protected by sandbags. Slowly, inexorably, the German caique swung towards the entrance to the bay.
Tiller squeezed the trigger of the Breda, but nothing happened and he knew at once that its complicated blow-back system had jammed. Cursing everything Italian, he picked up a Lanchester just as the heavy machine-gun on the landing-craft opened up.
The first burst went high and wide, and spattered into the cliff behind the British caique. But Tiller knew – they all knew – that their old wooden hull would not be able to absorb many of the enemy gun’s heavy-calibre bullets.
Maygan changed course towards the German caique in another attempt to put it between the machine-gun and themselves but the distance was too great now. The second burst from the machine-gun shredded the caique’s mainsail and smashed the gaff. The heavy wooden spar crashed down on to the deck in pieces and then fell into the water, pulling the tattered remains of the mainsail with it. The wreckage slowed the caique and, powered only by its foresail, it began to lose way.
‘Cut that mainsail loose!’ Maygan shouted, but Griffiths was already leaning over the side, sawing at the ropes that still held the gaff and mainsail to the mast.
Tiller waited for the next burst, which, he knew, would rip into the hull, for even in the gathering dusk the machine-gunner could not miss his target as it was now broadside on to him.
Then behind him Tiller heard the throaty roar of the MAS boat’s engines and the distinctive bof-bof-bof of its twin Bredas opening up. Balbao’s gunners were using tracer and Tiller could see it arcing past the caique and on to the landing-craft.
The machine-gun stopped firing and there was a dramatic whoomph of flame as the landing-craft suddenly caught fire, and the gunners on the MAS boat turned their attention to the ruined stoned building, pumping shell after shell into it.
Germans were running everywhere and Barnesworth and his men were trying to pick them off in the gathering gloom. The German caique was now motoring away as fast as possible but the MAS boat simply blew it apart with the Bredas. Bits of planking and wooden coaming flew everywhere and the crew jumped into the water. The caique’s engine stopped and without anyone at the helm an inshore current caught the drifting hulk and grounded it on an outcrop of rocks below the next headland.
This only left the speedboat, but that never even got under way, for Griffiths holed it with a shot from the Solothurn and sent the men in it tumbling into the shallow water and wading for the shore.
Suddenly it was quite dark except for the area around the burning landing-craft. A red Very light curved into the sky. Gradually the shooting above the bay petered out.
Balbao came alongside. ‘Are you all right?’ he asked.
Maygan gave the thumbs up and said: ‘Can you give us a tow back?’
‘No problem,’ Balbao shouted back, elated by the success of the operation. ‘Always a pleasure to help the Royal Navy.’
A line snaked to
the caique from the stern of the MAS boat. Griffiths caught it deftly and tied it round the bottom of the mast.
Now that the fight was over Tiller found himself in a fury with the Breda which had let him down. He picked it up and threw it overboard.
Kristos was on the quay to greet them and to tell them that the seaborne attack had resulted in the rest of the Germans being routed, for the Italians, heartened by witnessing it, had held their ground well when the Germans tried to break through their cordon. It had given way in the end but the German survivors, more intent on survival than on driving home any kind of attack on the port, had simply dispersed into the night. They were probably making for the hills, Larssen added, in the hope that they would be able to hide out there until they were rescued. If they met any local people who might be sheltering up there he doubted if they would ever come down again.
The next day Maygan sent Tiller and Griffiths in the garrison launch to see what could be salvaged from the German caique and to bring back the damaged speedboat. They found the caique hard aground on the rocks. On searching it they found nothing of more interest than two dead Germans and a bottle of schnapps. They took the schnapps, and the caique’s sails and gaff, weighted the dead Germans and dropped them overboard to the accompaniment of a perfunctory burial ceremony, and then went to look for the speedboat.
Up on the hillside above the bay they could see a party of Italians with picks and shovels scouring the ground for dead Germans to bury. The speedboat was lying in shallow water. Except for the shell hole from the Solothurn, it seemed undamaged. They bailed it out, plugged the hole, and towed it back to the port.
Bryson, who had just finished repairing the caique’s engine, inspected the trophy with interest. ‘The Eyeties can certainly build them fast,’ he said. He checked that the speedboat’s engine was still in working order. ‘That’s an Alfa Romeo unit which can develop God-knows-what horsepower. I reckon it’s probably got a top speed of fifty knots or more.’ He wiped his hands on a rag and looked suitably impressed.
