by Tim Saunders
′The fourth M10, realizing that the Churchills that they were supporting had nearly all been destroyed, took up a hull down position and invited some infantry who were being slaughtered, to come on board for protection. They replied "Not bloody likely you′ll not get us in that steel coffin." I think that says it all!′
At 20.30 hours, three hours after they entered the village, the remnants of 4/Dorsets dug in on the northern outskirts of Maltot and were given permission to exfilrrate back towards Chateau de Fontaine and Eterville. Sergeant Caines was with those who withdrew:
′The CO, Battalion Headquarters, parts of B, C and D Companies, and the Carrier Platoon withdrew under extremely accurate support from 112th Field Regiment. We passed back through 7th Somersets and took up a position in the area of Horseshoe Wood. During the withdrawal I went back with R.S.M. Drew to help bring in a private soldier who had afoot blown off, and who up till then had been hopping along on his rifle; he remained quite conscious until we got him to an M.O.; only then did he pass out.′
Meanwhile the remains of C Squadron had already withdrawn and joined the remainder of 9/RTR to rally in original FUP before moving back to join A Echelon north of the Odon.
Only a minority of the Dorsets got the message to withdraw. Corporal Portway and others from his platoon were among those who were not told to move back.
′…the rattle of the gunfire had gradually died away, leaving only a solitary rifle shot here and there. It was a strange silence, an eerie sense of solitude. There were five of us in a ditch. We knew what had happened. The battalion had gone. We hadn′t heard the order. There was only one thing to do. Wait for darkness and then try to get back… Then the artillery opened up again. This time it was different: a scream of shells and the village became a hell on earth. We were on the wrong end of our own artillery bombardment… We pressed down deeply in the ditch, no longer completely in control of our own actions, the fearful noise annihilating our senses… I kept my eye fixed on a dandelion close to my head. It was my anchor in this Armageddon. Silence again; a silence as loud as was the noise… Then German voices – German voices. Would they pass by? Then I saw blood trickling down the shoulder of my jacket. The Three German soldiers stood above us. We lifted our hands in the air′
In driving both the Hampshires and the Dorsets out of Maltot, the Germans had eliminated a salient deep into their defences north of the Orne. They followed up their success, under the cover of gathering darkness, with counter-attacks by elements of 10th SS and 1st (Leibstandarte) SS Panzer Division. They managed to penetrate 9/Cameronians′ defences in Eterville from the left flank. A night of deadly fighting ensued before they were finally ejected.
Of those Dorsets who fought in Eterville and Maltot only five officers, including the CO, and less than eighty other ranks gathered in the area of Horseshoe Wood. This figure does not include the ten percent ′Left Out of Battle′ for just this circumstance; to act as a core around which to rebuild the battalion. CSM Symes, who collected the remains of D Company has summed the situation up with typical understated West Country reserve: ′A lot of brave men came out of Maltot and a lot were left behind′. 7/Hampshires also suffered cruelly. They lost eighteen officers and two hundred and eight other ranks. The Territorial heart of the brigade, built up over years of pre-war service and five years of home defence and training, was ripped out in a single day′s battle. In common with many other divisions, the character of the units under command of 43rd Wessex Division changed forever. A very different division fought on all the way to Bremen.
5/DCLI′s Attack on Hill 112
The attack of 5/DCLI on Hill 112 late on 10 July 1944, was the final offensive throw of Major General Thomas′s Operation JUPITER. It was without doubt one of the most tragic acts of self-sacrifice in the entire North West European Campaign. By early evening it was clear that a break through to the Orne was not possible. The leading elements of 9th SS Panzer Division were beginning to arrive and the Tigers of 102/SS Heavy Panzer Battalion had ensured that no further progress had been made at Maltot. On Hill 112, stalemate had persisted since late morning and it is hard to escape the bitter conclusion that a prize had to be taken for the sake of vanity. That prize was to be the possession of Point 112. The observation posts looking south from the Hill did, however, offer the possibility of successfully renewing the battle for the Orne crossings. Was this potential prize worth the sacrifice? Commander 4 Armoured Brigade had earlier refused to commit his Sherman tanks to battle because of the likely casualties but Brigadier Essame, Commander 214 Brigade, records a different view:
′By about 3 p.m. it was clear to him [Major General Thomas] that only a completely fresh attack on Hill 112 could stabilize the battle. Two of the three battalions of ′214 Brigade had already been committed at Chateau de Fontaine. There remained only one battalion available which might still turn the tide. This was 5 D.C.L.I., now snatching what rest it could on the outskirts of Fontaine-Etoupefour. Neither Major-General Thomas nor the commanders of 129 and 214 Brigades, who were with him when he made this decision, were under any illusions as to the necessity of the grim task now to be given to the D. C.L.I. Neither had their commanding officer.′
The reader will draw his or her own conclusions as to the merits of the two views.
Lieutenant Colonel Dick James had taken command of 5/DCLI just fourteen days earlier, when his predecessor was killed at Cheux during Operation EPSOM. At twenty-six years of age, a pre-war Territorial soldier and Somerset solicitor, his charismatic personality made an instant impact on his new battalion. At 17.00 hours Dick James and OC A Squadron 7/RTR were given orders at Headquarters 214 Brigade in the village of Fontaine-Etoupefour. Two hours later, he gathered his company commanders and commanders of supporting arms in 4/Someset Li′s forward positions. Here he gave his orders, from a spot where commanders could see the 400 metres of open ground that they had to cross to reach their objective; a large orchard and paddock on the crest of Point 112. If 5/DCLI, assembled for orders, needed any illustration of the seriousness of the situation, an attack by Tigers and Panzer Grenadiers was broken up by artillery fire on the lower slopes of Hill 112, while they were being briefed. In the limited time available Colonel James′s plan was perforce simple; a heavy bombardment followed by an advance directly on to the objective, supported by A Squadron 7/RTR. In the failing light of dusk, arrangements were far from the standards of perfection achieved in the Battalion′s five years of training. However, an intimate knowledge of what was required of them made up for the lack of time. 5/DCLI, in common with the rest of the Wyvern infantry, was a very good battalion.
Lieutenant Colonel Dick James
To save confusion, at this point in the narrative it is necessary to define names for the three ′woods′ that were the scene of 5/DCLI′s action. Confusion between ′woods′ has also been the source of much post-war disagreement as to who actually held Hill 112. Two of the ′woods′ were in fact orchards surrounded by banks covered in trees and bushes that, from the infantryman′s view, looked like woods. The one nearest to the British lines will be referred to as ′Small Orchard′, while the large orchard on Point 112 will be known as ′the Orchard′. The name ′Small Wood′ will be used for the trees on the German side of the hill that surrounded a small overgrown quarry. The two orchards were clearly marked on the 1:25,000 planning map but the Small Wood was partly obscured by over printing. However, on the smaller scale 1:50,000 map, used by commanders in the battle, only the Orchard is marked – in the wrong place! It had been moved 200 metres to the south-east, so no wonder there were so many friendly artillery fire incidents!
At H Hour, 20.30 hours, 5/DCLI, who had formed up in dead ground behind 4/Somerset Li′s positions, attacked across the frontline along the Caen to Evrecy road. Their objectives were the orchards and the crest of Hill 112, little more than 400 metres forward of the Somersets′ trenches. ′Two assault companies ′C Company right, ′B′ Company left, would provide the initial thrust, with ′
A′ and ′D′ in close support.′ 5/DCLI attacked, supported by all the guns available including the Bofors guns of 110/Anti Aircraft Regiment who had precious few Luftwaffe planes to worry about. The stream of rapid fire from the Bofors made up for the lack of tank support for the leading companies, as A Squadron 7/RTR was late arriving at the FUR The tanks joined the rear companies and were quickly in action in support of A Company, who had to intervene and suppress enemy fire from the Orchard that had caught B Company in the open. Private Jack Jones of 8/Middlesex [divisional MG Battalion] was a part of Major Kenyon′s Mortar Fire Control party, who moved up onto Hill 112 on the left flank of the Cornwalls with B Company.
′We came under heavy fire and casualties were mounting and the attack stopped. We put our carrier in an excavation where a German tank had been hull down. Major Kenyon said, ′I′II find what′s holding us up′. When he came back he redirected the guns and mortars and soon we moved forward again.′
Following up with D Company was a soldier, Private Gordon Mucklow, who had been transferred to the DCLI from the Warwickshire Regiment:
′We reached half-way to the [Small] orchard, pausing in a dip across the field. Stick grenades were being thrown at us from the edge of the orchard. We must have been only just in reach. The officer with us shouted, ′throw them back′, which we did. We were elated to see we could do it with some success, as the time delay fuses were longer than ours. The Jerries then ran from their positions.′
Under heavy fire and with their own grenades falling about them, the SS Panzer Grenadiers retreated from the Small Orchard and enabled the now depleted B Company to occupy the southern hedgerow of the main Orchard. B Company, with only forty men, was to hold this dangerously exposed position, receiving the constant attention of enemy fire. Following behind, A and D Companies reached the ditch that divided the Orchard and started to dig in. Following the fleeing Germans was too great a temptation for one of the Battalion′s five Canloan officers, Lieutenant Carmolli, who led his platoon of D Company down the hill in pursuit. He and most of his men were killed, with the rest being taken prisoner. Meanwhile, on the right, C Company had fared well against little opposition but had veered off to the south-west where some of them appear to have headed through a hedge and across a paddock towards the Small Wood. Little is known of their fate. However, some members of C Company joined A and D Companies in the defence of the Orchard. While reorganizing Private John Mitchell, D Company signaller, with his company commander:
A British 17-pounder of 59 Anti-Tank Regiment and its Quad tractor knocked out on the plateau of Hill 112 near the orchard.
′…moved forward and found ourselves on a long track going south, we were now a small group. Suddenly a tank came out of cover, we raced to the bank to get into the wood again, with machine-gun bullets everywhere. The bank surrounding the wood was steep with little grip even for army boots and I was carrying an 18 Set. I got up that bank and you know it was sheer fear that helped me! We made it to a large crater, my Company Commander Major John Fry, two sergeants and my signals mate. I found that my battery was flat but I had passed a dead signaller as we made for the crater and I went back to find him. It was Lionel Blanchard, the first signaller that we lost, with his radio set still on his back. He had been shot through the transmitter into his back. I removed the battery – thank God, there was still some life left in it. …Major Fry gave me a map reference. I encoded it and asked for smoke cover from the artillery. In minutes smoke shells fell almost on top of us. Wethanked God for our wonderful gunners!′
Under cover of the smoke, the companies sorted themselves out into some semblance of order.
At 21.00 hours the report that ′British tanks have taken Hill 112′ started to make its way up the German chain of command from 3/21 Panzer Grenadiers. On the ground SS-Rottenfuhrer Zimlitz, ejected from his shelter by B Company 5/DCLI, recalls that:
′When the Tommies got into the Wood of the Half Trees[the German name for the Orchard] we moved to our last line of retreat. It was a dry stone wall overgrown with bushes, about a hundred metres further down the slope. It gave good cover and a good field of fire. Behind that ditch, the slope ran downhill for a thousand metres without a scrap of cover. We always said that we would have to hold that ditch or die in the attempt. Tommy never got that far′
As 21 SS Panzer Grenadiers reported the loss of Hill 112 they were at the same time preparing a counter-attack. Meanwhile, in the Orchard, 5/DCLI were busy preparing to defend the banks and hedges. The historian of the DCLI describes the mood:
′Behind the rifle companies and on the flanks were the antitank platoon with a troop of artillery 17-pounders. In support, they found positions from which to meet the inevitable counterattack. It was not long in coming and in the failing light, supported by a heavy bombardment, German infantry and tanks stretched every nerve to regain the wood and Point. 112.′
The remaining Tigers of 102/Heavy Panzer Battalion and two companies of SS infantry made the counter-attack. SS-Obersturmführer Schroif and his platoon of Tigers were waiting at the southern foot of the Hill:
Tiger concealed on the edge of a wood.
′It was almost dark when the order came. On the right, I could see the Tigers of No 1 Company already moving on to the slope. My objective was the Kastenwäldchen [another German name for the Orchard]. We got to within about three hundred metres of it. I halted the Company and opened fire. I pushed forward on the left into a hollow in the ground. We couldn′t have been more than a hundred metres away. We fired with machine guns and sent high explosive into the tree tops. Machine-gunfire rattled on the armour and we could see the muzzle flashes of the anti-tank guns.′
Major Roberts describes what happened as the German infantry came through the Orchard′s southern hedge:
′We had no difficulty in repulsing the infantry, the fire discipline being first class and both companies giving Boche absolute hell. It was grand to hear the section commanders shouting out their orders ′Hold your fire, chaps, until you see the bastards′ eyes!′
With the SS infantry checked by the combined fire of 5/DCLI and the artillery, the Tigers were unable to press home their attack. Fearing to close within range of the Cornishmens′ PIATs they withdrew. The account given in the DCLI history continues:
′The attack was repulsed, largely because of the remarkably good fire-discipline of the battalion by means of which a heavy and accurate fire was brought to bear on the attackers. Major Roberts records that along the tree lined ditch he could hear, between bursting mortar shells, the section commanders firmly ordering their sections to hold their fire until they could be sure of their mark. In consequence the fire of the defence was highly effective and when what remained of the enemy had withdrawn, the defenders began to dig as vigorously as they could, much impeded by roots, for they knew they must expect an early repetition of what they had just experienced.′
During and after this attack the vulnerability of towed anti-tank guns became apparent to the DCLI. The shields of the Battalion′s 6-pounders and the 59/Regiment RA′s 17-pounders gave protection against small arms fire and shell splinters from the front. However, the gunners, who had to be in at least a kneeling position to serve their guns, were totally exposed to the flank and rear. Even when dug-in and sheltering in the large open topped gun pit, the gun crew were vulnerable to air burst shells. 5/DCLI, as was common among infantry in Normandy, also suffered heavily as a result of large splinters of wood being blown down by shells exploding in the trees above them. Throughout the action the number of anti-tank guns available to 5/DCLI was steadily reduced and reliance on the short range (and not very accurate or reliable) PIAT became greater.
British infantry digging in during Operation JUPITER.
John Mitchell
The second counter-attack came around midnight. This time the Germans closed in on the Orchard, as it became apparent to the Panzer Grenadiers that B Company had abandoned the forward hedge. The enemy tanks, believing that the
y had overrun the DCLI′s position, roamed around the battalion area. Private John Mitchell describes one incident:
′My mate and I were digging in, in the second last hedgerow from the crest. We both cried out in dismay as the hedge came down on top of us, a Panther most likely, was pivoted on the bank and we were underneath, with the tracks either side of us. The large gun on the tank fired, it was deafening, so much so we hardly heard the shell that hit the underbelly of the tank inches from us. It was a ′Piat′, fired by one of our lads at close range. The Panther backed off the bank as it was possibly damaged.′
Counter-attacks came and went. With fewer anti-tank guns still in action, the SS panzers made regular forays around the Hill. Between attacks, Sergeant Frank Grigg, Signal Platoon Line Sergeant, was at 5/DCLI′s Advanced Battalion Headquarters in 4/Som Li′s frontline.
′Hardly noticing that the shelling has eased off (too busy digging) the signal officer appears "I want a line party to take a line to the wood" he says. Most of the signallers were already deployed with their companies and those handy were nearly all NCOs. Standing with one foot up on a dead cow he says, "Now chaps, here′s medals on your chest". Sergeant Gould, a Londoner, mutters "I don′t want any bloody medals on my chest" but this is ignored or drowned out by shelling. Where is our fifteen cwt truck with all the gear? It must be at the rear. Three of us take a drum of cable each, phone, pliers, tape and earth pin. Off we all go into the darkness. "This way" says the signal officer as he dashes ahead. I can′t go that fast as I pay out the cable stumbling along the rough ground. Nearly the end of the drum. Suddenly the Signal officer turns directly to the right "God! Where′s this dammed wood." The drum gives a wrench. "Wait" I hiss "we have to make a joint." Kneeling down Corporal Jack Foster and I struggle to make a reef knot in the cable, twist tape round. Suddenly a Verey Light lights up the whole scene. We freeze, motionless! [they were hoping to be mistaken for part of the landscape] London humour now comes from Sergeant Gould "Whoever saw a drum of cable growing out of a tree!" Blackness as the light goes out. We go on. Damn this noisy spindle on the drum; bound to give us away. God! End of second drum …Another Verey Light. This time from a tank coming around the end of the wood. Friend or foe? We don′t know. It starts firing tracer bullets at us. "Get down Sergeant Grigg" shouts the signals officer "They′re after you!" He′s right behind me so I say "Well he must be after you too sir!" But the Verey Light gave us a glimpse of the hedge and Colonel James just inside. The signals officer and Jack Foster jumps over with the telephone and I clamber in with the cable. Hastily we connect the telephone; "Hello, Rear HQ" says a voice. Good we′re through, thank God! Suddenly we′re aware of the tank to our left, which has now moved closer. It stops, out jumps a crew member, "Kamerad, Kamerad" he shouts. "Shoot him", yells somebody but signallers have no weapons! "Here′s a Verey pistol", says someone. The signals officer takes the pistol and shoots the poor sod. He reels like a Catherine wheel on fire! And the tank roared off.′
