by Tim Saunders
Pourville, looking southwest across the valley of the river Scie.
The ‘large white hotel’ used by the Germans, now distincly grey.
A winter photograph of Pourville West.
The RDF Question
As has already been described, the examination and recovery of parts of the German RDF site on the cliffs above Dieppe had not been one of the original aims of the Operation. However, on hearing about the planned raid, the Air Ministry requested that it be included in the list of objectives. Flight Sergeant Cox, who had seized components from a Wurzburg radar during the Bruneval Raid, had in many respects provided as many questions as answers about German RDF capabilities. Of particular interest were questions such as, how would the longer-range, wide-beam radar, code-named Freyer, work alongside the Wurtzburg, and did the set have an anti-jamming capability? Answers to these and other questions were needed if the Allies were to successfully pursue this aspect of the technological war. After all, it was Churchill who wrote in a Cabinet minute:
‘This war is not, however, a war of masses of men hurling masses of shells at each other. It is by devising new weapons and above all by scientific leadership that we shall best cope with the enemy’s superior strength.’
A later verion of the Giant Wurtzburg radar hit by Allied bombing.
The RDF site was on the cliff to the east of Pourville.
Defining the enemy’s radar capability thought the capture of componants was difficult for, since Bruneval, as the Germans had considerably strengthened the defences around RDF sites. Thus a raid by a major landing force was a heaven-sent opportunity for the British radar scientists; Freya Radar Number 28 and its operators from 23 Funkmess Kompanie were in the area to be temporarily seized by the Canadians. To send a scientist was too much of a risk because although he would be able to find out much about the German technology just by looking at a set, if captured, many British secrets might be revealed. So, as before, an RAF radar technician rather than a scientist would be chosen for the task. Even so, there was a considerable risk of compromising British capabilities. The orders given to the South Saskatchewan Regiment instructed them ‘...to provide adequate protection, as the RDF expert must under no circumstances fall into enemy hands.’ Whether these orders meant killing the expert has been debated over the years, but the dozen Canadians of the ‘Special Platoon’ attached to A Company, who were to escort Flight Sergeant Nissenthall, certainly thought so.
Freyer Radar.
Nissenthall briefed the platoon:
‘If we get into the RDF station, we may want to carry some equipment away. It will be heavy and possibly fragile. The valves – tubes to you – could be as big as a Chinese vase, and about as delicate.’
The Freyer’s antenna was a tall lattice affair, but the majority of the station, a solid concrete blockhouse, was below ground level, with several feet of packed earth providing extra protection from bombs. At 0345 hours on the morning of 19 August 1942, the duty Freya operator staring at his screen deep in this bunker, spotted the five columns of the Jubilee naval force off the coast. He called his site commander, Lieutenant Willi Webber, who having decided that these were not false echoes, contacted the Navy HQ, who dismissed the radar echoes as being the expected convoy of five ships. Webber replied:
‘I can only repeat that these are not five simple ships, but five columns of vessels. With respect, this cannot be a small convoy coming from Boulogne. If they were, they would appear from the east. These are coming from the north.’
The German naval officer may have disregarded the warning, but the army watchkeepers, who Webber rang next, were far more receptive. Some time after 0400 hours, the Germans started the process of alerting the defenders along the Dieppe coast.
The No. 3 Rifle, Sten gun, their ammuntion and grenades all needed checking and adjusting before battle.
The Crossing and Landing
The South Saskatchewan Regiment embarked on their LSIs at Southampton, the Princess Beatrix and Invicta. In the cramped spaces below decks, the soldiers of the South Saskatchewan carried out their battle preparation. New weapons were prepared and ammunition distributed. Among the ammunition was an allocation of two No. 36 Grenades per man, plus reserves held at company and battalion level in the hands, respectively, of the company sergeant majors and the Regimental Sergeant Major. The grenades had to be cleaned of protective grease and wax before use. At about 2300 hours, the men of C Company aboard Invicta were going through the routine of cleaning and fusing their hand grenades when one of the bombs exploded. Seventeen soldiers were wounded. Not a good start; and with battle preparations and pre-battle nerves, few of the South Saskatchewans were able to get much sleep.
A prewar photograph of Pourville, looking south-west along the beach.
Germans laying mines and barbed wire.
As scheduled, just before 0300 hours, with the mother ships at anchor, the men clambered down into their ten LCAs and two Landing Craft Mechanical (LCM). Without any confusion, the landing craft followed their gunboat escorts towards Green Beach; and without any apparent navigational errors in the darkness, the Saskatchewans landed under cover of nautical twilight at 0455 hours, only five minutes late. Lieutenant Buchanan wrote:
‘As our small boats crept into the shore we could see lights shining in some windows and smoke curling from a few chimneys. We thought how peaceful it was and how soon we would disturb this quiet sea-side town by rifle and gunfire.’
Unlike the Royals’ delayed landing, the Saskatchewans’ approach had been silent, and the landing, in a single wave, was undetected. The South Saskatchewans had achieved vital moments of surprise that were denied to the Royals on Blue Beach. Lieutenant Buchanan continued:
‘Our steel-shod boots pounded on the heavy shingle beach. It sounded like thunder after the slapping of small waves against the side of our landing craft and the muffled throb of marine engines.’
Green Beach looking east. The River Scie discharges into the sea through the shingle bank.
By the time the first enemy machine guns opened fire, the assault companies had cut the barbed wire and, using scaling ladders, most of the Canadians were safely over the sea wall, ignoring the black boards fixed to the barbed wire marked in white paint with the word ‘Minen.’ Major McRae recalled that ‘very few casualties occurred during the beach landing.’ Invicta’s Flotilla Officer, Lieutenant Murray, later reported,
‘. . . unopposed, except that LCA 315 which touched down two minutes later on the extreme right flank was fired upon by a light machine-gun post. Military personnel in this craft suffered several casualties as they disembarked.’
According to the official historian, some ‘personal accounts suggested that the enemy had purposely held his fire until after the landing.’ However, if this had been the German platoon commander’s intention, then he was denying himself an opportunity to destroy the Saskatchewans on the beach: a natural killing area. The Battalion’s adjutant, Lieutenant Buchanan, recalled that:
‘It was a peaceful scene, but almost immediately my comfortable illusion was shattered when guns began to fire from emplacements in the cliffs. Tracer cracked over our heads and I heard one soldier shout cheerfully “Gee, this is better than the fourth of July!”’
With the Canadians off the beach, the Germans concentrated their fire on the withdrawing landing craft. However, as the Canadians moved inland, the battalion discovered that they had, in the darkness, landed much further to the right and on a much narrower frontage than had been planned. Of greatest significance, both A and D Companies were west of the River Scie rather than to the east. To reach their objectives they would have to either cross the inundated area via the bridge and causeway inland from the sea wall, or return to the fire-swept beach. This was a critical error, and in effect, it negated the tactical surprise that the SSRs had gained.
The German MP40 or Schmeisser
In among the houses of Pourville, their Special Platoon caught the German off-duty shift
. The radar expert, Flight Sergeant Jack Nissental, described the scene:
‘A door banged open and half a dozen Germans ran out. One was pulling on his jacket, holding his Schmeisser machine gun in his other hand. Another tugged up his trousers as he ran. Smokey fired a long burst from his Sten and the Germans went down like rubber toys, waving arms and legs. Bullets ricocheted off the wall behind them.’
Also surprised were some off-duty German officers and a number of local girls who had stayed over after an officers’ mess party the evening before. Enjoying female company, the officers had ignored the commotion and firing as a ‘routine clash that was nothing to do with them,’ but they were disabused of this notion by Lieutenant McIlveen’s platoon of C Company, whose task it was to clear the building. Locked doors burst open under the blows of rifle butts and steel-shod boots. Few of the half-dressed or naked officers and their orderlies ever reached their feet. The French girls screamed as the Canadians shot or bayoneted their erstwhile escorts. ‘They rounded up five girls, some only wearing bras and panties, . . . sobbing in terror at the sight of violent and ugly death.’ Shortly afterwards, a grinning corporal shepherded the partly-clad girls down to Battalion Headquarters. It is not clear whether these were the same girls who later worked alongside Canadian medics near the sea front, treating wounded soldiers.
Lieutenant Colonel Cecil Merritt VC
The bridge over the Scie and the view looking inland towards the Four Winds feature.
Meanwhile, Lieutenant Colonel Merritt and his small Tactical Headquarters, who had landed alongside the assault companies, was making his way to the village garage, which was to be the battalion’s first HQ. As they moved through the streets, cannon-firing Spitfires raked the enemy positions on the headlands. Flakes of brick, concrete and ricocheting lead zipped around the Canadians’ ears as the Germans returned the fire. Corporal Red Sudds of the Special Platoon, who had earlier complained about his newly-issued Sten gun, was hit in the streets of Pourville. Jack Nissenthal recalled:
‘He suddenly pitched forward as though he had seen something immensely valuable on the ground and must at all costs pick it up. I shouted at him but he did not answer. I shook him but he just rolled slackly on his side. He had grown a small hole like a birthmark over his right eye; it was rimmed with pink skin but the rest of his face looked sallow, the colour of wax. A little blood seeped out of the hole. He was dead.’
A French resident of Pourville braved the fire and told a Canadian infantryman sheltering by his front wall that ‘the Germans had been waiting for you.’ This statement conflicts with the belief that surprise was achieved at Green Beach. It may be that the elderly Frenchman was merely commenting on the overall state of alert that he had noted over the previous days.
The Bridge
Once in the village, A and D Companies could not return to the beach, but had to cross the river in the centre of the town. Lance Corporal McKenzie wrote:
‘We got over the wall and well into the town before we were fired on, which was at the concrete bridge over the river. The bridge was covered with fire from the hill to the left and made it very hard for us to get across. Some of our boys got over the bridge, some swam the river. I for one had a tough time swimming the river as my equipment dragged me down. As we crossed the river I heard mortar fire for the first time.’
Others chose to rush the Bridge. Private Krohn recalled:
‘The main street was easy to be seen, so we dashed for it and turned left to cross the bridge. L/Cpl Chilton, Evenden, Carswell, Pickford and I were fired upon when we reached halfway across. Chilton, Evenden and Pickford made a mad dash for the other side; Carswell was wounded, together with two other boys beside me. It was too late for us to be able to make the dash. One more boy fell right beside me, so I flattened out, rolled myself over the side, into the Canal [embanked river course] at the same time dragging one of the boys with me. The bridge was under heavy fire by this time. The rest of the company had to wade the Canal.’
At this point, the Saskatchewan’s Commanding Officer intervened ‘in the difficult situation to the east of the village.’ Lieutenant Dickin, acting Intelligence officer, was at Battalion HQ, when it became clear that A and D Companies were ‘having a stiff time.’ Lieutenant Colonel Merritt, sensing a problem, moved to the key point of the battle. Approaching the bridge, he found Lieutenant Nesbitt, commanding 17 Platoon of D Company, who with some of his men was held up at the bridge by a machine gun firing on a fixed line. Lieutenant Nesbitt described how Colonel Merritt came up ‘and decided we should dash over the bridge. He led the way and we crossed OK and I do not think we had any casualties.’ Through the force of his own example, as described by Captain Carswell:
‘Lieutenant Colonel Merritt led several parties across the bridge in Pourville which was swept by machine-gun, mortar and field gun fire continually. He was constantly exposing himself. On many occasions he crossed over the bridge, urging his men forward and calling, “See, there is no danger here”. The men followed him splendidly but were shot down time after time.’
Lieutenant Edmondson tells of what he himself saw:
‘More than half of our Company were across the bridge when I arrived. The Colonel, when he saw we were being held up, crossed the bridge several times, urging the men forward, and the men followed. The dead were piled two deep for about 50 feet along the bridge.’
The Germans were dug in on the high ground overlooking Pourville and the Scie Valley.
The attack on the Four Winds feature.
Lieutenant Colonel Merritt was awarded the first Canadian Victoria Cross of the Second World War for gallantry, when he ‘personally led the survivors of at least four parties in turn across the bridge.’ The problem at the crossing point was further eased when a pillbox sited to fire directly on to the bridge was temporarily silenced by ‘anti-tank fire’ from a Boys rifle.
Four Winds Farm
With D Company across the bridge, Colonel Merritt organized a further advance under fire, during which ‘he carried the men forward’ with his leadership, led an attack right up to a pillbox, and threw grenades inside. Sergeant McBride described the inspiring example set by his commanding officer:
‘The first time I met the Colonel, we were over the bridge. There was heavy fire coming down on the road as I joined a group of men who were held up. I heard the Colonel speak and he said, “We must get ahead, lads, we need more men up front as quick as possible. Who’s coming with me?” I replied, “We are all going with you.” He said, “Good lads, let’s go.” We ran up the road with Colonel Merritt leading: disregarding all danger, he led us straight up the road, and after about 40 yards he stopped. Soon the Colonel said, “Are you ready again?” We answered, “O.K. Sir,” and away we went again right up to the roadblock. There we left Colonel Merritt and went to rejoin A Company.’
In spite of the Commanding Officer’s gallantry, D Company, who were pushing on towards their hill-top objective, Four Winds Farm, were ‘frustrated by the enemy’s mortar and machine gun fire.’ Lance Sergeant Coldwell described a right-flanking attack led by Major McTavish in which Private Fenner:
‘...crawled up the hill and walked straight into the enemy positions, firing a Bren gun from his hip and reached the top of the hill killing a considerable amount of Germans... At this point Private Fenner was wounded very badly, being shot in both legs... We dragged him down the hill on his back where we dressed his wounds.’
D Company only secured a foothold on Four Winds feature, and was unable to hold their gains in the face of concentrated fire from across the valley and from further in land. A major factor in this set back was the arrival of a cyclist platoon from the 571 Infanteries reserve, who had arrived well ahead of their comrades who were marching to the battle. Their arrival firmly tipped the balance of forces against the Canadians. Having withdrawn back to the foot of the hill, D Company were redeployed to support A Company, who were similarly struggling to take the radar station.
The
Radar Station
Having been delayed for about twenty minutes by the marshy flooded area that the Germans had created behind the sea wall, A Company’s progress up on to the high ground to the east was checked by a road block covered by enemy fire. Looking up the slope towards the radar site, Major Murray Osten’s soldiers could see the tall radar antenna of Freyer 28 still rotating, as it had been before dawn when it had detected the approaching Allied shipping. However, with some two hundred yards of open terrain to cross and a number of active German positions covering the ground, A Company were also pinned down and killed. They needed mortar-fire support, but none was available, and the observation officers’ request for naval gunfire support did not get through. However, MGB 317 and two landing-craft support were engaging targets that they could identify as enemy. Overhead, RAF and Luftwaffe fighters were fighting their own battle, and empty cases and spent bullets rained down on the infantrymen below.
