Toehold in Europe (Combined Operations Book 5)

by Griff Hosker

He had come by motor launch from Valetta and as he stood to leave he said, "Lieutenant Harsker, if you would care to walk me back to my launch." He leaned in to me and I was almost overpowered by the smell of smoke which permeated his uniform. "I wanted a word alone. I am well aware of your part in the success of these operations. As I said I am still working towards a promotion for you but be careful of your association with Lieutenant Jorgenson. He has incurred the wrath of the Admiral. You might be as well to distance yourself from him. We always have 'Dragonfly' that we can use."

  "I am quite happy to be working with Lieutenant Jorgenson and as for the Admiral well we all know that senior officers often don't know their arse from their elbow don't we sir?"

  He was such an arrogant man that he failed to hear the insult. He shrugged, "I was just giving a word to the wise but I believe there are great deeds within you, Lieutenant Harsker and under my guidance you shall achieve them."

  After he had gone I felt like having a shower to cleanse myself. He thought himself a puppet master controlling me. I did what I did for Britain and not the little Major.

  Alan asked, "What was all that about?"

  "He warned me that you were trouble." I shook my head and laughed, "As if I didn't know that already! Come on everything is ready for tomorrow let's enjoy a bottle of wine eh. I suddenly feel like drinking."

  The plan was to leave on the afternoon of the 9th and arrive off the coast just before ten. That gave us the night to get through the defences to the railway line. We would lay up during the day and then blow the bridge at three a.m. That was supposed to be about the time the Airborne Division would be landing. We would then have two hours before the landing craft began to land their men. On paper it sounded easy but none of us were under any illusions. If something could go wrong it would do. We were Commandos and we would adapt.

  Once Alan had dropped us off he would return to Malta. We would only get off the island if the invasion was successful. We had no radio with us and no means of asking for help. I had no doubt that the invasion would succeed but I had contingency plans if not. We had seen enough fishing boats to know we could steal one and Malta was less than fifty miles away.

  We left well after dark and both the skies and the sea were stormy. There was a strong wind blowing from the north west. As we blacked up in the mess Sergeant Poulson said, "I wouldn't like to be parachuting in weather like this."

  "Lieutenant Ferguson said that they have some gliders this time. Perhaps that will make life easier." Even as I said it I was not convinced. Gliders were subject to the wind. Dad and I always preferred to have an engine in front of us! The motion of the E-Boat was more violent than we were used to. It was a wild and stormy night. For once I would be glad to get ashore.

  "Well this might keep the Eyeties heads down! They don't like the wet do they sir?"

  Scouse shared the view of most British soldiers that the Italians weren't good soldiers. I knew that was true in Abyssinia and North Africa but the men we would be fighting would be defending their own country. That might make all the difference. We would be landing at a rocky and deserted headland which overlooked the beach at Arenella. We had found a narrow valley which followed a stream. It would add a mile to our journey but we would be hidden and we would be able to lie up just half a mile from the bridge with open fields before us. The tricky part would be the landing.

  Tosh came down to the mess. "Captain says we are ten minutes out sir."

  "Right, Tosh, we'll be up directly." I slung the Bergen on my back and grabbed my Thompson. We would don the bisht during the day; if they were needed. We would wear oilskins and they would help disguise us in the rain. The storm meant that there would be no one around. Even the sentries would take shelter. We would rely on the weather to help us slip through their lines. The deck was pitching and slicking with seawater. The three dinghies were already inflated and the two crew who would paddle each of them were waiting looking like drowned rats already. My men all went to their allocated boat and I slipped up to the bridge.

  "How is it Alan?"

  "Rough as. I am afraid it might be a wet landing."

  "I don't mind a soaking so long as we land unseen."

  "I think that the weather will be our ally." He nodded to the skies. "I don't think the glider pilots will think so." He shrugged. "The weather might have eased by tomorrow night. Best get to your dinghy. I can see the shore. Good luck and I shall see you back in the cove. I will get some wine in to celebrate."

  We shook hands and I went back to the stern. The coast looked dark and foreboding. The headland rose to our left and Alan took us as close to the shore as he could. He held the engines against the swell and began to turn us. The 'Lady' would give the dinghies some protection from the sea. The sailors threw the dinghies into the sea and slipped over. The two held them against the side while we climbed down. There were spare paddles and once we were aboard we paddled like mad the forty yards to the beach. We avoided the rocks to our left but once we landed they would become our friend. As soon as we felt the sand under the bow we jumped out. There was no time for goodbyes.

  I crouched in the wet sand as I scanned the land to our right. I saw, on the beach, barbed wire. It blocked the easy route to the river valley. The land to the north looked quiet. I raised my hand and led my line of men to the headland which lay to our left. We could get around the wire. The stones were slick with rainwater and we moved carefully. We had plenty of time and a careless step was unnecessary. We only had to go a hundred yards and I saw the gurgle of water which marked the stream. It was swollen by rainwater. I headed towards it. Now that we were off the rocks it became much easier going although the ground was not as firm as it might have been twenty four hours earlier.

  There were trees running along the tiny valley and they gave us some protection from the rain and the wind. I led knowing that I need not turn around. We had plenty of time and we moved slowly. Sergeant Poulson was bringing up the rear. After a mile I saw the road ahead. We would pass under the bridge. We had identified this as a secondary target. We paused to take shelter beneath it and to examine the structure. I pointed to Lance Sergeant Hay. He nodded. This was his bridge. We moved on. Soon we would need to find somewhere to lie up for the other bridge, the main target, was three quarters of a mile ahead.

  I smelled lemons on the wind and I stopped. The aerial photographs had shown a lemon orchard to the south of the valley. It also marked the place where we could cut across fields to the railway bridge. I looked around. This was as good a place as any to camp. I waved my hand in a circle. The sign for make camp. We all had a job to do. I took off my Bergen and dropped it to the ground. I tapped Scouse on the shoulder and I waded across the shallow stream with Fletcher in close attendance. We clambered up the other side and emerged into an open field. I had no idea what the crops were but I knew where we were.

  I dared not risk a light to read the compass. I estimated the angle from the valley and set off. We would follow our own footsteps back. If the rain continued through the night then they would be washed away, eventually. The arable field led to another lemon grove and we moved through the aromatic fruit trees. The wild wind wafted the smell and then dissipated it. I suddenly stopped. There was a tiny road which lay ahead. I had seen it in the photographs but could not tell if it was metalled or not. It was. Once we crossed it I knew we were close to our main target.

  The olive trees were closer together than the lemon trees had been. I took that as a good thing. We would have more shelter. I heard in the distance the sound of an engine. I hurried forward to the edge of the olive grove and I lay down. A car with dimmed headlights showed me where the road bridge was and I heard the train as it approached. It must have left Syracuse station and was building up speed. It was going quite quickly when it passed us. The soot and smoke was somewhat dispersed by the rain. I saw that it was a goods train but I could not see what it carried. When it had passed we ran to the railway line. It was single track and we would be safe
for some time.

  Scouse knew what to do as well as I did. He went to one side while I went to the other. It was a stone bridge and there were gaps in the mortar. The bridge would come down and would block the line. A charge on the line itself would guarantee that no one would use it. Once we were satisfied we crossed the line and explored the area on the other side of the bridge. A hundred and fifty yards from the bridge was a farm. It was not big but it was a consideration.

  I tapped Scouse on the shoulder and we retraced our steps. The rain had abated a little by the time we reached the camp. My men had rigged camouflage nets and made crude shelters from branches and undergrowth. We had brought flasks and Sergeant Poulson handed me a mug of hot sweet tea. It tasted like nectar.

  "Gather round." They huddled close to me. "The bridge is just a couple of hundred yards away. We have to cross a road but it is very small. The bridge can be blown by two teams. Bill you and your team can go back to the road we just passed."

  "Sir!"

  "When you have set your charges then you join us at the railway bridge. We will head down the side road and make our way to Syracuse. That is a major target. A Commando Brigade will be going in there. Happy?"

  "Sir!"

  "Right, it is now four a.m. Team one on sentry duty. Two hours on, four hours off."

  We had one scare in the middle of the afternoon. It was the sound of the truck on the road to the south. We had heard vehicles using the road for it was a busy one but this one stopped. I was on duty with my team. I left Sergeant Poulson and Private Fletcher on watch and I walked down the middle of the stream. The rain had stopped but the small rivulet was still swollen by the rains. The wind still howled. I hoped that I could make a silent approach. After a hundred yards I moved across to the bank. It was slippery. Forty yards from the bridge I stopped sheltered by a couple of large trees. I saw an Italian truck and soldiers were swarming all over the bridge. They began to walk up the stream towards me. I knew that the rain would have washed away tracks that we had made but I worried that they might investigate the whole length of the valley. I remained frozen knowing that with my blackened face I would be hard to see, unless I moved.

  The two Italians stopped just twenty feet from my position. They took out their cigarettes and lit them up. I had no idea what they were saying but from their laughter I assumed it was nothing to do with us. They had barely had two puffs when a stentorian voice from the bridge made them discard their butts and hurry back to the bridge. After ten more minutes of searching they left. Perhaps this was a weekly routine, I did not know. However a nagging thought that ran around my brain was that they were on to us. There were Italian sympathisers on Malta. Perhaps someone had wind of our raid.

  I made my way back to the camp. I waved away the questioning looks. I did not want my men to be jumpy. I kept the information to myself; at least for a while.

  We were all up and ready to go before dusk. The rain and the wind had returned with a vengeance. The glider pilots would have an almost impossible job. I shook that from my mind. We had our job to do. We ate and prepared ourselves. Bill Hay and his team would be the first to leave. They would begin to mine the bridge at ten. The timers we had used recently had proved to be very efficient but Bill would use four timers on four charges. The odds on all four timers failing were long ones. I took Bill to one side. "I saw the Italians checking the bridge. I didn't see any sentries there last night but just be ready in case they have some tonight."

  "Right sir. We'll join you as soon as they are set."

  Bill left at nine to allow plenty of time to check out the bridge. We left at nine thirty. It was less than half an hour to our target but, like Lance Sergeant Hay I wanted as much time as possible to scout out the target. As I packed my Bergen I realised that we had not needed our Arab clothes. It was better to be prepared than to need something you didn't have. I led the way with Scouse behind. We knew the route. We were much earlier than we had been the previous day and we heard a train as it thundered towards Syracuse. That would be a consideration. We would need to be aware of trains heading down the line. The small road was empty and we crossed it quickly. Once close to the bridge we waited in the olive grove.

  My patience was rewarded when I saw the tell tale glow of a cigarette end. They had put sentries on the bridge. I guessed now that there was an informant in Valetta. I took off my Bergen and fitted the silencer to my Colt. I pointed to my team and made the sign for kill. They dropped their bags and took out their weapons. Scouse had no silencer but he was deadly with a knife. The Sergeant had his silenced Colt. I pointed to Gordy and tapped my shoulder. He nodded, he was in command should anything go wrong.

  The three of us moved along the woods using them as cover. I tapped Scouse on the shoulder and made the sign for follow. I got Poulson's attention and I pointed across the railway line. We would make a two pronged attack. I watched the bridge. I could see the white face of a sentry and the glow from his cigarette. I could see that he was cupping the end from the wind. It was almost as though he was signalling. I waited. He finished and threw it on to the line. When he turned I hurried from the cover of the trees towards the railway line. I scrambled down the bank, grateful that my rubber soled shoes would make no noise on the rails. We walked on the sleepers and the rails. The ballast could move and make a noise.

  We hid under the bridge and listened. I knew that Sergeant Poulson would make his way to the far side of the bridge and watch from the shelter of the trees. The range was only forty feet and he was an excellent shot. I heard two voices above me and they were speaking Italian. I heard their boots as they walked to the far side of the bridge. That was our chance to move and we clambered up the bank. It was slippery from the rain. We reached the top and I peered over. There was a small truck parked on the side of the road leading to the farm. It had not been there the night before.

  I drew my Colt and slowly peered around the edge of the bridge. I saw that there were three Italian sentries. Two were in the middle, huddled together under their oilskins while the third was looking north, to Syracuse. I pointed to the one by himself and Scouse nodded. He silently scurried across the road. I crouched and began to move down the side of the bridge. I could have risked a shot for the two of them were just thirty yards away but we had to get all three. I did not glance to my left. Scouse would get there when he got there. He had fast feet and fast hands. I was just twenty yards away when one of them turned. He had seen Scouse. I used the two handed position and fired two shots. I swivelled to my left but Scouse was already there. He was kneeling on the Italian sentry and he ripped his dagger across the sentry's throat. I turned back to shoot the other one but he was already dead. Sergeant Poulson had shot him.

  "Carry them back to their truck and then booby trap the doors."

  "Sir!"

  "Well done Fletcher. That was fast."

  It took two trips to put the bodies in the truck and ten more minutes to rig booby traps on the doors. While the Sergeant and I finished the booby traps Scouse ran to fetch the others. We had lost almost forty five minutes.

  By the time we reached the bridge Gordy and Beaumont were already working on the side walls. "Scouse, keep an ear to the rail and listen to the trains. Sergeant Poulson, get the spare charges out."

  I went to the ballast and started dragging it from under the rail. I chose a spot some twenty feet from the bridge. The debris from the bridge would cover most of the track. This would add to the damage. Polly came down with the charges. We had learned to bury them and that provided the energy to seriously bend the rails. We did both rails and then put a smaller charge on the other side of the joint. We had almost finished when Scouse shouted, "Train sir!"

  "Hide!"

  It was still pitch black and the rain and wind were blowing, I doubted that anyone would be scanning the embankments for saboteurs. We lay face down in the earth and the train thundered past us belching smoke and soot. As soon as it had passed we were on our feet. We had to move quickly as I w
anted to be well away from the bridge when it blew. I put the timer in the explosive and began to cover it. I had set it for an hour. I hoped that, perhaps, we might even hit a train. Polly and I had the easier job and we had finished before Gordy and his team.

  I ran back to the road and peered down it. There was no traffic but that was to be expected. It was the middle of the night. Then I heard the sound of anti-aircraft guns. It was the airborne brigade. It meant that we could blow the bridge any time we chose. In the distance I heard the sound of air raid sirens. I guessed it was from Syracuse. The wind kept taking the noise away and then bringing it closer. I feared for the Airborne Division. This was neither the night nor the terrain to be landing in a glider. I saw a movement in the woods. I dropped to one knee and levelled my gun. To my relief it was Bill Hay.

  "Everything go according to plan?"

  "They were three sentries there but we disposed of them."

  I would have to report this to Major Fleming when we returned. Our two targets had been identified. If ours had been then what of the paratroopers?

  "Get ready to move out when the others return. We will have to be on our toes. Word of this got out.. They may be expecting us." He nodded. "You set the bombs for forty five minutes from now?"

  "Thereabouts."

  I pointed to the skies. "Now that the Airborne are here it doesn't really matter." The rest of the section ran up. "I just said to Bill that I think the Italians know that we are here so let's be careful. They don't know that I decided to go down this road and hit them there. It might give us back the edge."

  Scouse nodded, "I'm game, sir."

  Gordy shook his head, "Gawd help us!"

  I smiled. I liked Scouse's enthusiasm. "Scouse, you take point. Polly, tail end Charlie!"

  He laughed, "So what is new?"

  Chapter 13

  It was getting close to the time of the first explosions. We ran. If anyone was out at this time in such a deserted area it would be bad luck. We reached the road just before three. There was no one in sight. We could hear, in the distance, sporadic gunfire. That would be the Airborne Brigade. What worried me was that there was not more firing. I could picture the landing craft, out there in the dark. They would land just before dawn to catch the defenders unawares. Our bombs should discomfit and disrupt them even more.