On the 17th, Field Marshal Rommel was badly wounded in his car by an Allied air attack and was replaced by Field Marshal von Kluge, one of a number of senior commanders brought into the Normandy battle since the invasion.
On 17 July the Regiment took up a position in the Caumont area, relieving the 67th American Armoured Battalion commanded by a Colonel Wynn. When I met him he immediately recognized the Sherwood Rangers’ green shoulder flash, and told me that he had instructed the Regiment in the American Honey tank when we were first mechanized in Palestine. He appeared most efficient and showed me very clearly the front line lay-out. I had time to visit the CCS to see some of our wounded, including Geoffrey Makin and Colonel Neville of the Devons; both were still on the danger list, and Geoffrey looked extremely ill. In spite of the doctor telling me that he had a fair chance of pulling through, Geoffrey died shortly afterwards.
In our new sector we supported in a defensive capacity the Recce Regiment, which had recently been dismounted and turned into infantry. The most important feature on our front was an extremely thick wood called Le Bois de Buissard, on the edge of which our infantry was dug in. I had a request from the infantry to send a squadron of tanks to give it moral support, as it felt somewhat lonely in the wood, to which I had to agree. Michael Gold lost the toss, so B Squadron had to go. Michael was furious as he had found a most comfortable farmhouse as a squadron headquarters a very short distance behind the front line.
Caumont was at the western end of the British sector so the Sherwood Rangers were not directly involved in GOODWOOD.
Certain major changes took place within the brigade at this time. Much to our surprise, the 24th Lancers were broken up in order to provide reinforcements for existing armoured units. They had only been formed during the war and had joined the brigade prior to the invasion, but their commanding officer, Lieutenant Colonel Anderson, was bitterly disappointed. Their place was taken by the 13/18th Hussars, a regular mechanized cavalry unit. Brigadier Craycroft had to relinquish command of the brigade owing to his wound and he was succeeded by Brigadier Errol Prior-Palmer, whose appointment caused us certain apprehension, as he was reputed to be a typical regular cavalry soldier, with no previous experience of the Yeomanry. He turned out to be a great stickler for smartness and saluting, which of course was right. At the same time we soon found him to be an excellent commander with great drive and initiative.
A letter arrived from Lawrence Biddle informing me that he had decided upon matrimony, which came as a great surprise. He wrote, ‘In order to fill up time during my sick leave, I intend to get married to a girl called Bacchus, whom I met just before D-Day.’ His security was masterly as none of his colleagues on the brigade staff, on which he had served, had had any inkling of the romance. His proposal would have been interesting to behold.
A 1000-lb bomb was dropped and exploded in the area occupied by the Essex Yeomanry, the brigade gunners, in fact only a few yards from a slit-trench occupied by Arthur Phayre, their commanding officer, who was most indignant. Three French civilians, who were working in the orchard when the bomb exploded, were wounded. The Normandy farmers in this area, in spite of being almost in the front line, continued their farming activities when things were quiet and took cover when the shelling started.
It was all a matter of luck in Normandy, or in any other European country, whether or not the local inhabitants had their houses or home towns completely demolished, depending on whether they happened to be situated in the line of advance, or where the Germans decided to make a stand. Some were fortunate and others suffered desperate hardships, returning to their shattered homes after the battle had passed on. So often during this campaign, after having passed through a completely desolated and ruined village, I felt so relieved that these battles were not being fought on English soil and in English villages.
About this time we met for the first time the 43rd British Infantry Division, consisting of 214, 129 and 130 Brigades, whom we continually supported in various battles until VE-Day. This division, known as the Wyvern Division, was commanded by General Thomas, nicknamed ‘Von Thoma’, after the German general. He was a wiry little man with piercing little eyes, a long nose, which protected a bristling moustache, devoid of any sense of humour and a hard and unrelenting driver, but a good soldier whom I am convinced enjoyed his fighting and discomfort.
The end was now approaching in Normandy, as the Reich faced renewed attacks on all fronts. Operation COBRA had been launched on 25 July, and three days earlier, the massive Soviet offensive, Operation BAGRATION, had begun across Byelorussia as the Red Army advanced into Poland.
On 1 August a general advance started along the whole front. A Squadron was involved with 214 Brigade in capturing some high ground south of Le Bois du Homme. They advanced steadily during the day, meeting moderate opposition, and reached their objective that evening. During the advance they met a Jaguar for the first time, the heaviest of all German tanks. It was immobilized at 30 yards’ range, three shots were fired, none of which penetrated, but the track was damaged and the crew baled out.
The ‘Jaguar’ Stanley mentions was the ‘Jagdtiger’ – or ‘Hunting Tiger’. It was a huge beast: nearly 72 tonnes, with almost 10 inches of armour and a 128mm anti-tank gun that could outrange and outgun any Allied tank. They were formidable opponents, to say the least, although, like many German tanks, they were massively over-engineered and plagued by fuel shortages and mechanical problems. Fewer than 90 were ever built, so it was quite a coup for the Sherwood Rangers to disable one in the fighting around Le Bois du Homme.
While doing a quick reconnaissance Sergeant Dring spotted a couple of Tiger tanks. He directed his tank into a fire position from the flank and brewed one up. The German crew from the other Tiger must have deserted their tank, which on arrival was found to be bogged down, but complete with kit and rations, which were immediately requisitioned by the members of A Squadron.
That evening I received orders for Operation BLUECOAT, the object of which was the capture of Jurques and Ondefontaine, under the command of 130 Infantry Brigade. This operation was intended to be a bold thrust to obtain the maximum advantage from the enemy’s present difficulties, following the American and British advance on the right.
On 3 August the attack went in with C Squadron supporting the 5th Dorsets, and the village of La Bigne was captured after some sticky fighting; the squadron lost Lieutenant Campbell and two of his crew. Progress was slow owing to the numerous mines that had been recently laid and the REs attached to C Squadron did some magnificent work in clearing them. After the fall of the village C Squadron advanced 300 yards south and, having consolidated, A Squadron passed through it with the 5th Dorsets to capture Ondefontaine, which the enemy intended to hold, as soon became evident. A Squadron had to proceed along the one and only road, which was narrow and bordered by a high hedge on either side, and along the whole length of which the high ground to the right flank, containing Le Bois de Buron, commanded an ideal view. In this wood the Germans had placed their gunner OPs and tanks. This made A Squadron advance very slowly and prevented the capture of Ondefontaine the same evening. The following morning, after a very heavy artillery stonking, C Squadron again took the lead and, with the infantry, captured the village.
Peter Seleri told me afterwards that he was wounded by a mortar bomb, while in the midst of a conference with the infantry commander, the gunner FOO, and Jack Holman. All the party were hit except Jack, the smallest target. Peter swears that he hid his small frame behind his own bulk. His driver, Trooper Howie, who had left the tank was killed by the same shell. A somewhat taciturn sort with a quietish sense of humour, he was one of the bravest. To drive a tank in action was a most unenviable and thankless occupation as one was quite unable to see anything, but was fully aware of the explosions from within and without. He carried out his orders from the tank commander on the intercom, either ‘Driver advance full speed!’ ‘Driver halt’, ‘Driver right or left’ or ‘Driver reverse’,
and had so much time to brood over his worries and dangers. In reply to Peter’s letter of condolence on the death of his son, the driver’s father wrote, ‘He has gone with a Grand Company’, a remark so very true.
Two complete troops, consisting of three tanks each, arrived from the 24th Lancers, which had recently been broken up, under Lieutenants Cameron and Cowan. These I posted to B Squadron. Jack Holman took command of C Squadron, since Peter Seleri had been wounded. Nothing ever got Peter down. In battle he knew no fear, or at least he never showed it, and proved a most able squadron leader whom we all missed when he was evacuated. He was inclined to be somewhat pedantic in speech, and was prone to using long and ponderous words, even when reporting over the wireless: instead of saying, ‘In the wood to my left front, three enemy tanks moving left to right. Am engaging,’ he would monopolize the air by reporting ‘I can without question discern three moving objects in yonder wood, which give me an unquestionable impression of resembling three Tigers, which appear to portray hostile inclinations. It is my intention to offer immediate engagement’, much to the frantic impatience of the other tank stations with important messages for transmission over the regimental frequency.
The brigade joined up into a strong mobile column on 6 August to capture Condé, advancing on two axes, the Sherwood Rangers on the right, followed by 214 Brigade and the 4/7th on the left. However, after proceeding for a short while, the higher command decided that until Mont Pinçon and Le Plessis Grimoult had been cleaned of enemy it would not be advisable to endeavour to capture Condé and, much to our delight, we heard that the Regiment would pull back for three days’ rest. We heard afterwards that three divisions were employed to take Condé. Before the Regiment retired, a troop of B Squadron was ordered to support elements of 130 Brigade to clean a pocket of resisting enemy east of Ondefontaine.
On 7 August the Regiment withdrew to a most pleasant apple orchard five miles behind the lines, where it was joined by Roger Sutton-Nelthorpe and Headquarters Squadron.
In this latest round of fighting, the Sherwood Rangers had destroyed three Panthers, one Tiger and, of course, the Jagdtiger, but had also lost six tanks themselves and had suffered 24 casualties, including a further eight crew commanders. Casualties among tank commanders had now reached almost 100 per cent since D-Day.
On a more positive note, four of the six knocked-out tanks were recovered and made workable again – a recovery of hardware that was almost entirely denied to the Germans.
General Horrocks, XXX Corps commander, paid us a visit and addressed all officers and NCOs. He made some most complimentary remarks about the Regiment, which I am sure were sincere and not mere pep-talk, and reminded us that we first fought under his command as far back as August 1942 at Bare Ridge. From then we had continually served under him. He displayed a large map, which gave all our dispositions and described the fighting along the whole front.
The welfare arrangements laid on by XXX Corps were excellent and in a very short time mobile baths and cinemas appeared, and on the second day an ENSA party arrived in the regimental lines.
Before the evening show each squadron entertained some of the ENSA party for dinner; naturally there were no officers’ messes, so the meals had to be eaten sitting on the ground or on empty petrol tins around the tanks. At Regimental Headquarters we entertained three members of the cast, including a lively and amusing ‘Blonde Bombshell’. They all appreciated our efforts to produce a good meal, especially the blonde, who slightly exaggerated her enthusiasm by describing as ‘delicious cider’ the most delectable bottle of French wine, which had been procured from the local inhabitants in exchange for tinned meat.
One day Michael Gold and I, after visiting Corps Headquarters, decided to have a look once again at Bayeux. Michael explained that, en route through the town, he had managed to befriend a delightful family who had been extremely kind to him. I vaguely wondered how he had managed to do this while his regiment passed through the town, but remembered that he had the most amazing faculty for making life-long friends with every type of human being in a very short time, and generally under most unusual conditions. However, I felt convinced that certain female influences contributed to his enthusiasm that we should revisit his new-found friends in Bayeux.
To my enquiry as to how he made these friends, he explained that, in passing through the town from the beaches to the front (at which time he was still with the 23rd Hussars and had not rejoined the Regiment), his squadron had stopped in the town for a midday meal and, by good fortune, his tank had come to rest outside the house of a French leather-maker and his wife, who had most graciously offered to cook his rations on their kitchen fire and he had taken advantage of their kindness.
On arrival at Bayeux we soon found the house of the leather-maker and, in answer to Michael’s bold knock, the front door was opened by a truly delightfully pretty young French girl, who, on beholding Michael, gave a shriek of delight and shouted, ‘Maman, Papa, Marie, venez-ici, toute de suite, Michel est ici, vite, vite.’
Thereupon the rest of the family came rushing down the passage in great excitement – Papa, an enormously fat man with no collar, bedroom slippers and an old pair of trousers secured only by the top button, Mama almost as large, covered with a brightly coloured apron, gripping a ladle, and Marie, a brunette, equally as attractive as her sister Angèle.
They surrounded Michael, each talking voluble French at top speed. Regarding this extraordinary scene, I really considered for a moment that Michael must have known this family before the war, for surely such a reception could only be for a son, brother, husband, lover or very old friend of the family returning after a long absence at war, and could not be merely for an acquaintance of one fleeting meeting, but then concluded that there could be no alternative, and I was, of course, right.
I was duly introduced to each member of the family and made most welcome, and we were ushered into a small but comfortable sitting room. They insisted that we should stay for lunch. We protested in view of the food shortage, but they would not listen and declared that they had a full larder and, leaving us to talk to Father, the three women departed to the kitchen to prepare lunch.
We sat down to a magnificent meal, omelette, lamb, fried potatoes, apple tart and cream, washed down with cider, which we both thoroughly enjoyed.
Michael, speaking French fluently, was in great form and kept the whole family in fits of laughter. Both the daughters were uncommonly good-looking, with attractive figures and, like all French girls, beautifully dressed, in spite of coming from such a small, unpretentious, but clean and comfortable home.
After lunch Michael decided that he wanted to go shopping in the town, and in spite of being informed that locally made women’s straw hats were the only articles that could be purchased, he immediately displayed an earnest desire to buy these straw hats. So Angèle, Marie, Michael and I set forth on a shopping expedition. We spent half an hour in the hat shop waiting for Michael to make a choice from the large variety of locally made straw hats for ladies. He tried every hat on each member of the party, including the two girl shop assistants, much to their delight, and in the end bought four, which he sent to England.
We took the girls back to their home and, after bidding the whole family au revoir and many thank-yous, we drove back to the Regiment after a most pleasant and amusing few hours with a delightful family.
Our greatly enjoyed rest terminated on 12 August when, once again, we moved up into the line for the next attack, supporting 130 Brigade – A Squadron with the 5th Dorsets to capture Proussy, B Squadron with the 7th Hants to capture St Denis de Méré, and C Squadron to remain in reserve for the start of the operation, which started at dawn on 13 August.
Brigadier Leslie, the commander of 130 Brigade, was somewhat slow in crossing the start-line, and was then held up by opposition, about which he did nothing as he was under the impression that the brigade on his left would deal with it. ‘Von Thoma’, the divisional commander, appeared in his ar
moured car and promptly sacked Leslie in the field. I felt sorry for him, as the original orders were not clear, and I felt somewhat apprehensive myself as the Sherwood Rangers were supporting Leslie’s brigade. Furthermore, he had sacked one of his battalion commanders, who did not know if his anti-tank guns had been brought up, and the colonel of the 12/60th, which was in our brigade.
The senior battalion colonel of 130 Brigade was summoned to command the brigade – a man called B. A. Coad, affectionately known as ‘Daddy Coad’, as he was like a father to all. I have never seen a man in such a dither, as at the time the battle was not going well. All the brigade and battalion commanders in 43 Division were somewhat fearful of Von Thoma, who at the same time infuriated them as he insisted on ‘fighting their battles’ and would not leave them alone after the final operational orders had been issued.
One of the most difficult skills of any commander was to delegate properly, and few instinctively understood that with promotion came a new job description. General Thomas was not alone in over-involving himself in the minutiae of battle or of being over-controlling: the same allegation was often cast at Montgomery. It tended to stifle initiative and sap the morale of immediate subordinates.
After the capture of Proussy and St Denis de Méré the river Noireau had to be crossed and the village of Berjou captured, situated on the high ground on the far side of the river and commanding a dominating view of the river and the whole countryside. As usual the enclosed country made tank fighting extremely difficult and unpleasant, and conditions were not improved by continuous rain, which lasted for two days.
Sergeant Cribben of the Recce Troop did some exceptionally good work in reconnoitring the narrow road that led up to the bridge which crosses the river. He found the bridge blown, which necessitated a night attack by the infantry. He managed to shoot up and destroy a German 50mm anti-tank gun which was the last to be drawn across the river before the bridge was blown. He was continually under mortar fire and had to avoid the usual sniper.
An Englishman at War Page 40
