Hill 112_The Battle of the Odon

by Tim Saunders

  ′Patrol penetrated the position between sleeping sentries and captured a machine gun before alerting the enemy who wounded one grenadier. Having alerted the enemy, the patrol withdrew under cover of the captured machine-gun′s fire, our MG 42 having had a very rare stoppage. A second patrol penetrated the enemy line without being seen and reached a mortar position. They sabotaged the enemy position and snatched some binoculars from sleeping soldiers.′

  It would appear that 20th SS Panzer Grenadiers, despite their minor patrol successes against 130 Brigade′s forward positions, having been in action from late afternoon until well into the evening, lacked the stomach for another major fight. However, to be fair, the German Schwerpunkt was still Hill 112 rather than the low ground.

  11 July 1944 – Dawn on Hill 112

  Back in the Orchard, a much reduced 5/DCLI had lost count of the number of counter-attacks that they had repulsed. Just before dawn word came that a squadron of Scots Greys was being sent in, to relieve the pressure on the Cornwalls, along with a company of Worcesters. During the night (02.00 hours) 1/Worcesters had come into the line to the east of 5/DCLI, having relieved the badly mauled 4/Wilts. The Scots Greys, of 4 Armoured Brigade, had remained south of Odon in support of the infantry on the lower slopes of Hill 112 and in front of Chateau de Fontaine. Lieutenant Franz Wallersrine, a troop commander with 7/RTR, has always wondered why the lightly armoured Shermans were sent up the Hill on the morning of 11 July 1944, rather than the more heavily protected Churchills. The answer is that the decision was made as 19 SS Panzer Grenadiers launched one of their counter-attacks and that B Squadron, Scots Greys, was to hand south of the river, while 7 RTR were leagured up further to the north. The Cornwalls were pleased to have any support when ′The tanks arrived just before first light, cheering the men immensely′. Bringing them up was Captain Callender commanding B Squadron:

  ′There was now a considerable amount of chaos caused by a lot of tanks close together, with little space for manoeuvre. I went to see the infantry CO who was delighted we had arrived. I, personally, could see no reason to be pleased. AP shot and Spandau bullets were whistling through the wood. A heavy stonk wounded two tank commanders′

  Lieutenant Colonel James asked Captain Callender to drive the enemy outposts out of the forward hedgerow. This was quickly achieved but in doing so the Greys exposed themselves to German anti-tank guns and armour on the southern edge of the plateau and quickly lost five Shermans and a Royal Artillery Sherman observation post tank. Captain Callender, his own tank destroyed, recalls:

  ′The situation was now critical. The infantry could not possibly stand up to the terrific shelling and small arms fire for much longer. The noise was terriffic. My party was now reduced to four operational tanks and the infantry were suffering very heavy casualties.′

  Knocked out Sherman in the orchard.

  Attracting fire from every weapon in the 9th SS Panzer Division′s ′ring of steel′ around the southern slopes of Hill 112, orders for a withdrawal of the Greys soon came. Under cover of a smokescreen, the remaining operational Shermans withdrew back across the road into 4/Somerset Li′s positions. The sacrifice of five tanks was counterbalanced by the destruction of up to nine enemy armoured fighting vehicles. B Squadron contributed significantly to the battle, although they did not appreciate it at the time, and were only on the Hill for a short period. At 07.20 hours the Commander of 9th SS Panzer Division, incorrectly believing that his division had ′solidly taken Hill 112′, ordered that: ′19 SS Panzer Grenadier Regiment are to hold Hill 112 with minimum strength. The remainder are to withdraw and dig in on the reverse slope out of sight of enemy ground observers′. The Germans had clearly decided to be more circumspect in the conduct of the battle. However, further counter-attacks were being prepared by 3/19 SS Panzer Grenadiers, well supported by the SS artillery regiments, in order to restore the frontline lost during the previous day′s fighting.

  Alone again on the Hill, 5/DCLI had to defend it in broad daylight against the series of attacks launched by 3/19 SS. While daylight brought the advantage to the counter-attacking Germans of more easily identifying their objective, it gave the defenders the opportunity of exploiting their superiority in artillery. Sergeant Frank Grigg′s telephone line had been ripped up by the passage of both enemy and friendly tanks and Lieutenant Colonel James had to rely on his wireless set. Fortunately, a very good radio operator, Private Jack Foster, had joined him and the CO′s normal operator Private Leslie Williams in the Orchard. Jack Foster describes some of his tasks early in the battle:

  No.18 Set with its canvas hood extended.

  ′During the initial advance, Leslie′s set was damaged by shellfire, as were several of the company sets. Some of their signallers were wounded and our Lionel Blanchard was killed. During the battle Leslie, Luther and I were able to gather up three broken [No 18] sets and swap parts to make up a working set.′

  How well trained these signallers must have been to be able to carry out such a complex task in the dark and under fire! A passage from Jack Foster s Military Medal citation gives a feel for the night′s action:

  ′For several hours, the Coys were cut off from [Main] Battalion Headquarters by enemy tanks and infantry having infiltrated the position. The line communication had been cut and several 18-sets and signallers had been knocked out. During this time communication was effected by the remaining 18-set manned by Private Foster f. The enemy was frequently so close that he had to whisper in order to get his vital calls for artillery fire and ammunition supplies through, and at all times was under heavy fire and it was impossible for him to raise himself above ground level. By his steadiness and devotion to duty a continuous stream of messages directing artillery fire on to enemy concentrations was received at [Main] Bn HQ, many counter-attacks were broken up and severe casualties inflicted on the enemy.′

  In daylight, his skills were to be tested to the full. Lieutenant Colonel James wanted to make the most of the opportunity to use artillery to keep the Germans at bay. He climbed a tree that had been badly blasted during the previous twenty-four hours of battle. From his elevated position, he could see over the hedges and slightly downhill onto the German positions. Calling down map references, Jack Foster, with his precious radio in a trench below, passed them back to be relayed to the guns of 94/Field Regiment. The CO had the pleasure of seeing the Germans pull back under heavy and accurate fire just before he was spotted. A burst of Spandau fire ripped through the tree. ′Come down sir!′ shouted Jack Foster. The Colonel replied T am coming′ but he was too late, as a second burst shot him out of the tree. He fell, almost decapitated, by the side of Private Foster. Word spread from trench to trench that ′The CO′s had it′ and in the words of George Taylor, who took over command the following day,

  Trees surrounding the orchard were shredded by artillery fire.

  ′Now with the Colonel dead the splendid fighting spirit that had sustained the battalion through many hours of grim and deadly struggle began to wane. Someone shouted: "Retreat! Retreat!" Who it was will ever remain a mystery. …Men began to drift to the rear and the contagion spread and considerable numbers reached the position held by 4th Somersets, where the latter′s Colonel, CG Lipscombe, rallied them.′

  Majors Fry and Roberts led the remains of the Cornwalls back to their positions in the Orchard. Overcoming fear to return to battle from a position of relative safety is a measure of true bravery. The soldiers were reorganized into four ′companies′ which were in fact only the strength of platoons.

  Meanwhile, back in 4/Somerset LI′s position, Major John Majendie recalls that Lieutenant Colonel Lipscombe,

  ′sensing a crisis drew his pistol and shouted "I′ll shoot the first Somerset who goes back." And an honest private soldier in my company told me, years later, "When I saw the DCLI coming I put on my small pack and if they had gone I would have gone with them."

  Corporal DB Jones, one of the ten percent of a unit ′left out of battle′ in case of disas
ter had come forward to join his Battalion just after 5/DCLI′s return to the Orchard.

  I was astonished to see Lippy and the Brigadier sitting on shooting sticks apparently discussing the battle, as bullets were flying all around. A sergeant I came up with was killed but still they sat there! They were sitting there regardless of their safety! I now know why they were doing it but they earned our respect and affection.′

  Morale of fighting men in battle can be a fragile thing and, as George Taylor said, the ′contagion′ could spread quickly. Helped by the calm heroism of their brigadier and some brave leadership by officers and NCOs of the two battalions, 43rd Wessex were saved from embarrassment.

  Back on the Hill, 5/DCLI were subjected to further counterattacks but the attacks lessened in both frequency and intensity as the combat power of the two sides ebbed away. Incidents of the utmost ferocity were juxtaposed with ones of compassion or simple ′live and let live′. For example, an artillery Forward Observation Officer remembers: T said "There′s a Jerry over there" and I raised my rifle to have a bang at him but the chap whose trench I was sharing said "Don′t shoot at him, you′ll annoy them".′ However, SS-Mann Trautmann, on the eastern edge of the Small Wood recalls another side to the battle:

  ′On our left was an enclosure where our opponents were trying to bring an anti-tank gun into action. The crew was frantically pulling down the fence … Brave were those Anglo-Saxons but we were rapidly closing on them so their efforts were meaningless; they would never be ready to fire in time. We quickly made the manhandling of that dark-brown gun a superfluous exercise. The gun was literally dismantled by our shot, with shield flying through the air and wheels hurled across the field. The Tommies screamed, throwing their arms in the air as they died, or somersaulted, horribly mutilated.′

  A knocked out Mark IV on Hill 112.

  SS-Sturmmann Herbert Furbringer of 19 SS Panzer Grenadiers, has described how he,

  ′… was wounded about 300 yards beyond Hill 112. I just failed to make it into a ditch and was badly wounded in one leg by a British shell. I handed my ammunition over to my comrades, who I never saw again, and started to hobble down the Roman Road. I came upon a wounded British soldier, leaning against a bank. I raised my rifle and shouted to him to put his hands up. He swore at me and I realized the stupidity of the situation and we hobbled back together down to my Regiment′s aid post.′

  Major John Majendie recalls meeting one of the Hohenstaufen′s stretcher-bearers at the fiftieth anniversary commemorations of the battle. He told of how he was sent into the Orchard to collect wounded, who were within a short distance of a British tank but ′despite traversing its turret towards us, to their eternal credit, they did not fire′.

  In the early afternoon, there was a lull in the battle and Major Roberts, one of two surviving company commanders, took the opportunity to visit the positions:

  ′To give some idea of how depleted the battalion had become, just before I was wounded I made a tour of the companies and the effective strength was 126, although many of the wounded were still lying where they had fallen or been hit in their slit trenches: some were still firing, although very weak for loss of blood and fatigue.′

  At about 15.00 hours the respite ended in a fury of shot and shell that raked the hilltop. The SS were mounting yet another counter-attack, this time with the support of the Stug Vis of 9/SS Assault-gun Battalion. Reinforced by fresh troops, the Hohenstaufen was starting to make progress. Realizing that they were about to be overrun, Major Fry requested permission to withdraw but he only received a curt order to ′return to the brigade commander and explain the situation′. As the sole surviving officer, the burden of making the decision to order an unauthorized withdrawal now, or to await the deliberations of the chain of command, fell on Major Fry. It is almost certain that after fourteen days in the forward battle area and twenty-one hours in action on Hill 112,5/DCLI would have been destroyed if Major Fry had not ordered a prompt withdrawal.

  SS-Standartenführer Sander at his command post in Bully. From here he commanded the fire of the Frundsberg′s artillery support throughout the battle.

  Thus Operation JUPITER came to a close with about sixty men of 5/DCLI coming down from the Hill, with others straggling in over succeeding hours and days. The Battalion′s losses were eventually calculated as two hundred and fifty-four including twenty-six shell shock cases. The battle had also reduced the enemy′s capabilities significantly, with some SS Panzer Grenadier companies reduced to an effective strength of five or six men.

  Hill 112 had not been held, nor had the Orne crossings been seized but elements of no less than four SS panzer divisions had been engaged in battle and firmly fixed on the British front at a vital point in the campaign. In doing so II SS Panzer Corps was so heavily written down that it never recovered to anything like the level of combat power it was able to deploy at dawn on 10 July 1944. In summary, Operation JUPITER may not have been a tactical success for Major General Thomas but it was a strategic success for Montgomery.

  Put up by 5/DCLI in the days following the battle.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THE CAPTURE OF MALTOT AND THE FALL OF HILL 112

  ′In these conditions, comparable only in the writer′s experience to the bombardment at Passchendaele, the Division was to remain in action for a further fourteen days.′

  Brigadier H Essame. 214 Brigade

  With Operation JUPITER over and preparations still underway for Operation GOODWOOD, Hill 112 had lost none of its importance to both the British and the Germans. All along the front from Hill 112 to Tilly and beyond, Montgomery′s overarching strategic aim was still to keep the German panzer formations firmly fixed on the British front, while the Americans attempted to break out. Within Second British Army, XII Corps was now tasked to maintain pressure on Hill 112 and the area to the south-west. This was designed to keep German reserves tied down and to distract attention from the area where Operation GOODWOOD was to be launched to the east of Caen, a week later. At the tactical level, both sides made limited attacks and counter-attacks to gain ground and improve their positions. On Hill 112, both sides were clinging to the edges of the plateau, peering covetously from their slit trenches at the fire-swept ruins of the Orchard a few hundred metres away.

  At this stage, the British armoured divisions were being prepared for GOODWOOD and only the independent tank and armoured brigades were available to support attacks. The rundown strength of infantry battalions was also shaping conduct of operations. Both sides had suffered heavy casualties during EPSOM, the capture of Caen and Carpiquet, and during Operation JUPITER. The infantry depots in Britain and Germany were emptying rapidly and, after nearly five years of war, there was no realistic chance of them filling again. The pool of SS replacements was nearly exhausted and discussions about taking lower quality Wehrmacht recruits into the elite SS formations were under way. The British had planned a mobile battle with the tank taking centre stage and had trained too few infantry battle casualty replacements. Consequently Montgomery faced the prospect of breaking up divisions to keep others up to strength, while at home recruits were directed to the infantry training regiments. Reversing the conversions of 1942, artillerymen and even RAF conscripts would soon be retrained as infantrymen. All this would take time, so in the meantime economy of effort was the watchword along the British front. Attacks were, therefore, to be on a relatively small scale.

  The following sections illustrate selected incidents during the period from 11 July until Maltot and Hill 112 were eventually taken in August. They give a feel for what it was like to be in action on a piece of ′vital ground′ before the breakout.

  4/Som LI attempt to grab the Hill

  War diary and signal log of Panzer Group West (Eberbach) to II SS Panzer Corps (Bittrich).

  ′21.30 hours 11 Jul 44. On no account must Hill 112 be given up: it is the pivot of the whole front. We might be able to do without Eterville but we must hang on to Hill 112.′

  Shortly
after receipt of this message, the British were to mount a small-scale attack designed to grab positions on the crest of Hill 112. The attack by 4/Somerset LI took place as darkness fell on the evening of 11 July 1944. The operation was to be ′silent′; that is to say that there was to be no preliminary bombardment and 4/Somerset LI were to advance as far as possible without alerting the enemy. Only when the attack had ′gone noisy′ would the artillery, mortars and machine guns join the battle. Major John Majendie describes A Company′s supporting role in the advance:

  ′At about dusk on the second night we were just starting to dig new positions for some of my company to get away from the very vulnerable Roman Road, when we received orders that three of our companies under the direct instructions of the Brigade Commander were to advance forward to try to establish positions on the higher ground of the hill. C Company on the left, D in the centre and my own Company [A] on the right. It was a fairly impromptu affair, we advanced forward in the dark and established ourselves with two platoons forward of the road and one behind it and we then started to dig in. The ground there was twice as hard as the ground we had come from, we had shovels but few picks with which to dig. To add to the problems while we were starting to dig our own medium machine guns opened up on the Boche from behind us and in reply two or three Spandaus started firing into my company′s position. We had some casualties and were obliged to try to dig lying on our sides because the tracer was zipping just over our heads. I sent my 2IC back to tell the CO that I didn′t think that we would be down below ground level before it was light.′