by Griff Hosker
With Lord Lovat and the majority of the battalion in Scotland we were a very small troop. We became even smaller when, towards the end of November, the other sections were sent to the area to the east of Boulogne to do as we had done and raid the airfields. The three days they were gone showed us what it must have been like for them when they had waited for our return. Major Foster accompanied them and we were left under the close scrutiny of Sergeant Major Dean. When we discussed the raids in the pub, being vague about the details, Jack Johnson couldn't understand why the RAF didn't bomb them in daylight.
As usual when we discussed the RAF all eyes turned to me. Because of my dad I was considered the expert on such matters. "It's dead simple really. We have not got enough aeroplanes yet to risk losing them on daylight raids. You saw the number of batteries they have around the Pas de Calais. The bombers we have wouldn't stand a chance and you can't risk civilian casualties. Having us as human beacons is the most effective way of bombing accurately. It works, Jack."
Sean stubbed out his cigarette, "I am just surprised they haven't sent some of us to North Africa to fight the Eyeties. We could do some real harm out there."
Reg Dean gave a thin smile, "How do you know there aren't Commandos there?"
"Well we would have heard."
He shook his head and, lowering his voice added, "You haven't read about your raids over there have you?"
"Well no but…"
"The public know about us but there is no point in banging on about what we do is there? The whole point about Commandos is that they work in secret, in the dark. There won't be much glory, Corporal Higgins, if that is what you are hoping."
It was food for thought. Before the Major and the rest of the troop returned Sergeant Major Dean summoned Jack and Daddy to his office. When they returned they had orders. "Right lads we have a little trip up north. We are going to RAF Ringway near Manchester."
Sean looked confused, "RAF Ringway, Sarge? What the hell for?"
"We are joining some of Number Two Commando to be trained how to use parachutes. They are going to throw us out of aeroplanes!"
Chapter 7
The two sections headed north towards the place I had enlisted. It felt strange. Once again I was interrogated by the others for it was an RAF base and I was the font of all aeronautical knowledge. "Why the hell do we have to jump out of planes? I thought we landed by boat."
"Well, Norm, the trouble is that some places are too far to reach by boat. Norway, for example. If we went there we would be at sea for days. The only way would be if the whole battalion went over on those LCAs. The problem is they would need ships to escort them and I reckon they are being used to protect convoys." I smiled, "Anyway this time when you are in the air you will have a proper pilot and not me!"
Gordy said, "You did all right, Corp. You saved our arse anyway."
I wondered, as we headed up through the Midlands, if I would get the chance to see Aunty Sarah. It was some time since I had been at Burscough. The thought that we might get Christmas leave also flickered across my mind. I knew that Mum and Mary would be missing Dad and worrying about me too. If I could get off for a couple of days it might reassure them. Poor Mum had had to endure this during the Great War too.
This time we would not be getting our own digs. For the three weeks we were to be there we would be in the barracks at the base. This was a brand new airfield and Dad had never been stationed here. I felt relieved when no one recognised my name. I preferred the anonymity of Corporal Harsker, Commando. There were more than just Commandos here too. There were Poles and Norwegians although they were kept away from us. There was also, at Bowden, a small group of trainees who, it was rumoured, included women. We never saw them but, sometimes, when we went training we caught the faint whiff of their perfume. They had been there before us. As the training progressed we sometimes saw other aeroplanes and parachutes. They were smaller in number. Gossip was rife about their identity!
We were not at the Tatton Park establishment. That was reserved for the foreign trainees and the mysterious women. We were with Number Two Commando at the main base. When the other Commandos discovered that we had been on a number of raids in France our standing went up. They had only recently been formed and had spent all of their time training. When we were not learning about parachutes they were asking us about the weapons we used and how we had managed to survive behind enemy lines.
The first day we were shown how to fall. It was an extension of the unarmed combat training and we found it easy. When we progressed to the small tower it became slightly harder although our rock climbing and abseil experience stood us in good stead. They taught us things which, in hindsight, were quite obvious, like bending the knees, keeping arms in tight and so on. At the time it was all new. By the end of the first week we had progressed to the huge tower where we could experience a fall from a great height. When we were shown how to pack our parachutes I heard grumbles from some of the other Commandos.
"Won't someone do this for us?"
The senior instructor, a small man with the thinnest moustache I had ever seen, said, "Sonny I don't know about you but I, personally, would rather pack my own parachute. That way I know it will open although in your case I am not so sure!" Sergeant Major Taylor rarely shouted but he was well respected and his advice heeded. We each packed our parachutes carefully.
Then one day we went to a new tower. This one was a fuselage from a bomber. It was inside a hangar and there were mats on the floor.
"Right my lovely lads, we are going to simulate leaving the aircraft using a static line." He was standing at the top of the tower and addressing us all. In his hand he held a rope attached to a metal clip. He held it up. "First you clip it onto this cable. Then you check that the man in front of you has his line secured to his parachute. The man behind will do yours. You step up to the door." He moved forward. "And then, when ordered, you will jump." He jumped. The fall was only a few feet and he rolled to the ground and stood upright. "Now the difference will be that when you do this tomorrow a parachute will billow beautifully above your head. Otherwise there is nothing different to what you have been training to do for the last few weeks."
A Commando raised his hand, "Sergeant Major what do we do if it doesn't open?"
"Good question laddie!"
There was a silence. The Commando asked, "No, seriously Sarn't Major, what happens?"
"You will reach the ground a lot quicker." He smiled, "Don't worry; it will open and if it is any consolation there are some boffins working on a spare parachute which can be opened manually."
The next day we were taken up in a balloon. A winch attached it to the ground and it rose slowly once we were all inside. Four of us were seated around an opening with a Corporal Instructor. We were winched up to a thousand feet. The Corporal grinned at me, "I am guessing, Corporal, that you will lead from the front and take this leap of faith."
I nodded. I said nothing for I was nervous. The instructor clipped my hook on to a cable running around the balloon. "Ready when you are."
"What do I do?"
"Just stand up and jump through the whole. The parachute will do the rest. Remember your training and when you near the ground relax and bend your knees. You'll be fine."
I stood and, folding my arms across my chest stepped out. I fell like a stone. I was going to die and I could nothing about it. Just when I thought that the parachute had failed to deploy it was though a giant hand had scooped me up. I looked above my head and saw the huge mushroom of the parachute above me. Just in time I glanced down and saw the ground approaching. I bent my knees as ordered but it still jolted my body as I hit the ground. The Sergeant Major said, "Now pick up your parachute and get out of the way Corporal so your lads can follow you!" I did as I was told and as I passed him he murmured, "Well done, son."
I had done my first jump. The rest all managed it. In the afternoon we did our second jump from the balloon. This time I actually enjoyed it because I knew that th
e parachute would open!
That evening Major Foster and Lieutenant Marsden joined us. "How is it going chaps?" We were all full of enthusiasm for we had all successfully had two jumps. "We will be playing catch up. I daresay we will have a successful jump such as you have had."
Sean said, "It's a piece of cake sir. Nowt to it!"
Jack said, "You were a bit green before the first jump Higgins."
"It was something I ate. I didn't throw up did I?"
Daddy asked, "How did it go sir? You know…" It did not do, even on an RAF base, to talk of missions in detail. Daddy wanted to know if the others had taken casualties when raiding the airfields.
The Major frowned, "Not a great success but we got back, at least most of us did."
That was all he would say. We later discovered that five more Commandos had either been killed or captured and only one of the squadrons had successfully bombed the airfield. With winter upon us such raids would be put on hold.
That evening we were assembled in a hangar. "Well, my lads, you all did well today. Tomorrow we go up for the first of your jumps from a real aeroplane. You will each complete seven and then you will be given your wings which mean you are a paratrooper. Get a good night's sleep and just do what you did today and everything will be fine."
There were six Whitley bombers waiting for us the next day. They had been modified to take men. There was a hole where the bomb doors had been. Our two sections were amongst the first to be loaded. I was happy to see the Sergeant Major was aboard our Whitley. He leaned against the bulkhead as the pilots went through their pre-flight checks. He waved a hand at us. "You are now a stick. It is what we called the lads who jump." He tapped the cable to which we would attach our hooks. "You hook up here. I will check that you are secure. The man behind will check that you are secure. We look after each other. I know that you Commandos live by that creed. That is good for it works here too. You exit through this bloody big hole in the floor. It is a tight fit. We had two Poles last week who broke their noses; it was not pretty. I will tap you on the shoulder and tell you when you have to jump. If you hesitate then I will push you. If our taxi drivers get it right and the wind isn't blowing too hard then you should land back at the airfield. Even if you don't the procedure is the same. Gather your parachute and fold it up. Bring it back here. It is a valuable item! Women can't wear silk stockings just so that you can have a safe landing!"
The co-pilot shouted, "All ready, Sarn't."
"Right, hold on to something. This can be a bit bumpy and noisy."
He was not joking. The JU52 had been silent by comparison. The pilots were building up the revs and the whole aeroplane shook and rattled so that I was convinced it would fall apart. Then we began to bounce down the runway. I am certain that Daddy was saying something to me for his mouth was moving but I heard nothing. When the wheels finally left the ground, the noise diminished somewhat although the smell of fuel almost made me vomit. The 'Flying Coffins' as they were known had notoriously leaky fuel systems. It was no wonder they were being phased out.
The Whitley spiralled up to the height we needed for a safe parachute jump. The co-pilot said, "Almost there Sarn't Major. Get them ready."
"On your feet my lucky lads." He nodded to me. "You're first. Hook up."
I clipped my static line on to the cable. He tapped me on my shoulder. Then I felt Daddy as he tapped me too. I was ready. We almost had no time to think. When the Sergeant Major had been down the stick to check the cables and the parachutes he returned to me. The co-pilot gave us the thumbs up and I heard the shout, "Go! Go! Go!" A hand propelled me forward and I barely had enough time to tuck my head in and prevent my nose from striking the aeroplane. And then I was falling. There was a slight jerk and then, suddenly, I slowed. I looked up and saw the creamy canopy covering the sky. My chute had opened. I held on to the lines holding it and I found that, if I pulled on one side and not the other, then it changed my direction. My canopy obscured the others but I could feel the wind shifting me. There was a wood to the right of the field and I pulled on the chute until I had managed, more by good luck than anything, to correct my descent. The ground was coming up rapidly and I prepared to do the forward roll when my bent knees hit the ground. I hit heavier than I had intended. I quickly scrambled to my feet and began to gather in the silk. I had done my first jump! It was exhilarating.
I looked up and saw the others drifting towards the trees. Only Norm actually landed in them. I heard his curses on the wind. The instructors on the ground watched as we folded and repacked our chutes. They would be done properly by the Waafs who would do the job far better than we would. Gordy said, "I thought we had to pack our own?"
"That was just the Sergeant Major's way of making sure that you knew how to do it. If you want to pack your own then go ahead but, trust me, the women are the best packers there are."
As if to prove the point the third Whitley which appeared in the skies above us disgorged its stick and we knew straightaway that something was up. Two of Number Two Commando had parachutes which didn't open. They just spun around without billowing open. The instructor next to me said, "Shit! Roman Candles! Poor buggers."
There was nothing anyone could do and they struck the ground with a sickening splat. Mercifully they must have died instantly. When the Sergeant Major came over, after his Whitley had landed, I could see that he was shaken. His Corporal said, "It isn't your fault Sarn't Major. They mustn't have packed them right."
He stiffened, "Don't make excuses for me, Corporal. I am the man in charge and I will carry the can for this."
We had a two day hiatus while there was an inquiry into the fatal accidents but the Sergeant Major was cleared and we resumed our training. I for one was nervous on my next jump until the silk opened and I landed safely. My second landing was better than my first. By the time I came to the last of my seven landings I even managed to land on my feet. I could jump.
The Major and the Lieutenant had used the two days of the enquiry to catch up with us and they did their last jump just a day after us. We were all paraded on the airfield and presented with our paratrooper's wings. For some of Number Two Commando it was a change in direction. They would become Airborne soldiers rather than Commandos. For our sections it was just a new skill. We were packing our gear into our bags when Major Foster came in. "Well chaps, I have some good news. You have all been granted leave until New Year's Eve. You report back to Weymouth on New Year's Day."
That pleased everyone. It had been some time since we had had a leave.
"However you should then prepare yourselves for some intensive training. We may have a mission and it will come as no surprise to tell you that it will be behind enemy lines." He was being enigmatic but we knew he could not tell us anything more.
I didn't bother to telephone Mum. Manchester was on the mainline and I wanted to get the first train home that I could. Christmas at home was a luxury and I would not squander the opportunity. I wanted some quality time with my family. I was lucky enough to catch a fast train and make a good connection. It was worth it just to see the look of surprise, joy, and tears on my mum's face when she opened the door. She burst into tears and hugged me so hard that I felt I could hardly breathe. She pulled back and held my shoulders in her hands. "You should have telephoned! I could have aired your bed and got extra food in!"
I shook my head, "These days I can sleep on a clothes line, and I have brought my ration book home. We will go shopping tomorrow eh? I am just glad to be home." She nodded. "Where's Mary?"
"She volunteered for the Women's Land Army. She will be back at five."
"Good for Mary!"
"She can't wait until she can join the ATA."
"ATA?"
"The women who deliver fighters to the squadrons. She thinks it is the only way she will be able to fly,"
I dropped my bag at the foot of the stairs. "What does dad think of that?"
She looked worried as she grabbed my hand and said, "I don't know,
Tom! We haven't heard from him for six months."
That wasn't like dad but I smiled, "You know Dad. He probably has a bunch of letters already written but he hasn't got round to posting them. He is worse than me."
She shook her head, "We have friends at the Air Ministry. Group Captain Marshall was evasive when I rang him. Randolph is never evasive. Your dad has gone and volunteered again in the Middle East and now the Italians have invaded Greece as well as Africa!"
I could hear the panic in her voice, "Mum, calm down. You don't know anything yet." I took a deep breath. "Look I have been up to stuff and I haven't told you about it. Dad is like me he doesn’t want to worry you but," I put my arm around her shoulder, "I am like him. I am a survivor and dad is too. He has a sixth sense." I laughed, "If you listen to Uncle Ted and Uncle Gordy he has a sixth, seventh and eighth sense."
When she smiled I felt a sense of relief. I hated the thought of mum worrying about anyone. I could see that she had aged in the last year. I had worried that it had been my fault. Now I discovered that dad was just as much of a worry as I was.
"How long have you got at home?"
"I am here until New Year's Eve."
The look of joy on her face made her look ten years younger, "Oh that is wonderful; Christmas together!"
I changed out of my uniform. It felt strange not to be in khaki! Mum pottered away in the kitchen. I knew she would be fretting about the food she would be offering. I poured myself a whisky. I felt I had earned one.
When Mary breezed in, shouting cheerily, "I'm home mum!" I said nothing. She came into the lounge and when she saw me she squealed. "Tommy! How fantastic!"
"Look at you! A Land Army girl. Give me a twirl!" She was wearing the uniform which I had seen all over the country. Women and girls were doing the jobs which men had done. The men were at war and the women took up the challenge.
She obliged me with a spin, "How long are you home, Tommy?"
