The men experimented with clothes, equipment and weapons, and took stock of the very latest in communications technology, the Eureka radio directional hand set, which as Hill discovered ‘enabled us to call in aircraft without the need to lay out markers’. Lawson monitored the men’s physical condition and concluded: ‘The ration was not wholly satisfactory and more sugar was added. The dehydrated meat was too fat for the hot weather.’ There was also one case of heat stroke as the intensity of the training increased, and Lawson noted that ‘difficulty was experienced in replacing the water lost by sweating’.4
Lieutenant Colonel Prendergast required soldiers who ‘had ideas and sympathies in common’, who were friends as well as comrades, as so much of their time would be shared in close proximity to one another. With several old hands returned to their former unit during the mountain training, the LRDG once more had to recruit. Prendergast drafted a list of requirements in any potential member of his unit:
Tact, initiative, and a keen understanding of his fellow men.
Intelligence above the average, and a sound military background.
Courage and endurance.
Perfect physical condition.
A readiness to undertake any task that might be required of him.
Some technical or language qualification.
Youthfulness. Few men over the age of thirty [will be] accepted.
That was the other ranks. For officers, Prendergast expected all of the above as well as a ‘knowledge of men’. ‘For days on end he [the potential officer] would have to live with his men, endure their hardships, share their disappointments, and rejoice in their success,’ stated Prendergast. ‘Not only did he need to know more about their job than they knew themselves, but he also had to be more expert than they in handling weapons and equipment.’5 The final characteristic sought by Prendergast applied to both officers and men, and was arguably the most important trait in any potential LRDG recruit: ‘A man who had the reputation of being “tough” was by no means a first choice,’ said Prendergast. ‘Too often the “tough” man is the man who lacks intelligence, initiative and discipline; often enough he lacks courage as well.’6
‘A man who had the reputation of being “tough” was by no means a first choice. Too often the “tough” man is the man who lacks intelligence, initiative and discipline; often enough he lacks courage as well.’
Guy Prendergast
The final part of the training was also for most of the LRDG the worst – parachute training. They’d heard tales in the desert from the SAS about the terrors of jumping out of an aircraft, an activity that had cost two SAS men their lives in the early days of training when their parachutes failed to open. In August 1943 rumours began to circulate within the LRDG that they were to be sent to the British Army parachute school at Ramat David in Palestine. Then one morning their worst fears were confirmed. ‘The CO got us altogether and explained the reasons,’ related Hill. ‘It was a way to get behind the enemy lines in the new conditions of fighting on mainland Europe.’7 Nonetheless, continued Prendergast, he appreciated that when the men had volunteered for the LRDG they had not been expected to jump out of aeroplanes. If any man didn’t wish to go to the parachute school, he would ‘not be discriminated against or thought any the worse of’. Hill recalled that only six men declined the opportunity to learn to parachute. Hill’s great pal, Jim Patch, was one of the many volunteers, although he had a nervous moment at the medical examination when they were tested for colour blindness. ‘We were all lined up in front of [Doc] Lawson,’ remembered Patch. ‘The only means he had to test us was the coloured cover of a magazine. He would point to different colours and we had to say which they were. I was colour blind as could be.’8 Lawson passed Patch, although he offered a word of advice as he did so: namely that when he had to leap out of the aircraft he should ‘just follow the man out in front’ rather than waiting for the green light to flash. They headed to Ramat David in small groups, but Hill and Patch never got the chance to earn their ‘wings’. Instead, as they began to learn the rudimentaries of parachuting a message arrived from Lieutenant Colonel Prendergast ordering all LRDG personnel to Haifa.
Men of S1 and S2 patrols undergo parachute training at the British Army school at Ramat David, Palestine, in December 1943. (Courtesy of the SAS Regimental Archive)
Dick Edwards awaits his turn to jump. (Courtesy of the SAS Regimental Archive)
The training began with a gentle introduction using the scaffold. (Courtesy of the SAS Regimental Archive)
Initial rumours suggested they were bound for Rhodes, an island that since the previous May had been targeted for invasion. By the start of September, however, the British chiefs of staff recognized that they didn’t possess the resources to overpower the 7,000-strong German division on Rhodes. After the successful conquest of Sicily, the Allies were about to invade the Italian mainland, so rather than attack Rhodes it was decided to invade the smaller islands of the Aegean.
In the context of the war as a whole, the Aegean appeared at first glance an insignificant backwater, but it contained three groups of islands that were of strategic importance: to the north the Sporades, the Cyclades in the west and in the east the Dodecanese. It was the latter that were considered key to the Aegean with Rhodes, Kos [also spelled ‘Cos’] and Leros among the most important islands. Rhodes was too well defended to attack, but Kos and Leros weren’t.
The lead elements of the LRDG began departing the Middle East in the second week of September, sailing from Haifa aboard a Greek sloop. David Lloyd Owen held deep reservations at the haste at which they were being despatched. ‘The lack of reliable information was disgraceful,’ he recalled, though he and the men welcomed the prospect of putting into practice all they had learned in the Lebanon.
Few men enjoyed parachute training but the soldiers of R2 put on a brave face for the camera. (Courtesy of the SAS Regimental Archive)
In the evening of 13 September, Lloyd Owen and some 100 men arrived at the port of Castelrosso, the principal settlement in Castelorizzo, the most easterly of the Dodecanese islands, lying just off the Vathi Peninsula on the Turkish mainland. ‘We were received rapturously by the inhabitants and we spent a night there,’ recalled Jim Patch.9 Their stay was brief, however, and the following day Lloyd Owen was instructed by Cairo to take his men north to Leros, approximately 170 miles north-west.
These photos of new LRDG recruits learning to parachute in 1943 were taken by Wally Smart. (Courtesy of Jack Valenti)
Broken bones were a common occurrence during parachute training as the men jumped from moving trolleys. (Courtesy of Jack Valenti)
On the same day, S Squadron of the Special Boat Squadron [SBS] arrived on Kos with another section, led by their commanding officer, Major George Jellicoe, travelling on to Leros. By the end of September, the British controlled all of the Dodecanese islands except for Rhodes, a state of affairs that was discussed by Adolf Hitler and his senior officers. There was a body of opinion among some, notably Grand Admiral Donitz, that the best course of action was to leave the Aegean to the British and instead concentrate their forces in defending the Balkan Peninsula. Hitler disagreed. ‘Abandonment of the islands would create the most unfavourable impression [among our Allies],’ declared the German leader. ‘To avoid such a blow to our prestige we may even have to accept the loss of our troops and material. The supply of the islands must be assured by the Air Force.’10
By the start of October, the LRDG were doing what they did best; travelling far and wide on reconnaissance patrols, only this time on water not sand. They patrolled the shipping lanes around islands such as Pserimos, Calinos, Kithnos and Syros. One of the most successful recces was the New Zealand T1 Patrol skippered by Captain Charles Saxton. On the afternoon of 6 October they reported ‘a convoy of 6 LC [Landing Craft], one tanker and one minesweeper’, intelligence that resulted the next morning in the destruction of the convoy by the RAF in the waters close to the island of Stampalia, west of Rhode
s.
In the same week, Prime Minister Churchill was doing his utmost to persuade President Franklin Roosevelt to collaborate with Britain in the Aegean. ‘I have never wished to send an army into the Balkans,’ emphasized Churchill in a cable sent on 7 October to the White House. ‘But only by agents, supplies and commandos to stimulate the intense guerrilla movement prevailing there.’11
But Roosevelt was deaf to Churchill’s entreaties, Congress believing the prime minister was intent on embroiling himself in a Balkan campaign every bit as ill-conceived as his disastrous Gallipoli adventure in 1915 when the attempted Allied invasion of western Turkey came to grief in the Dardanelles Straits. The Americans told Churchill their focus in the coming months was on maintaining pressure on Italy ahead of the planned invasion of France in 1944. ‘It is my opinion that no division of forces or equipment should prejudice “Overlord” [the codename for the invasion of France] as planned,’ Roosevelt wired Churchill in response to the PM’s cable. ‘The American Chiefs of Staff agree.’ The British were on their own in the Dodecanese.12
Wally Smart, sitting on the wheel of the WACO, and his pal William Dougan, joined the LRDG from the Royal Electrical and Mechanical Engineers and served in the Aegean and Adriatic. (Courtesy of Jack Valenti)
In mid-October it was reported that a 3,000-strong force of Germans had come ashore on the island of Kalymnos, which lay to the north of Kos and the south of Leros. A small reconnaissance party from a Rhodesian patrol of the LRDG was ordered to land on Kalymnos and investigate. Setting out from Leros, Lieutenant Stan Eastwood and his four men were dropped close to Linaria Bay with enough rations for five days; the Royal Navy commander in charge of the motor launch arranged to return in 48 hours. But when the launch returned on the night of 20/21 October, there was no one waiting for them; they came back the following night, and this time Corporal Tant went ashore in an attempt to make contact with Eastwood. He never reappeared. The launch made one final attempt to contact the LRDG men on the next evening, 22/23 October, but when the commander neared the shore in his dinghy, signalling with his torch as he heaved to, ‘low whistles on shore were obviously made by the enemy’. The Royal Navy commander rowed back to the motor launch, and on arriving at Leros reported that in his estimation Eastwood and his party had been captured.
__________
When Eastwood and his four men – corporals Harry Whitehead and Alf Curle, private Neddy Edwards and private Reed – landed on Kalymnos, they did so unobserved. They made their base in a cave on top of a mountain, and the next morning began their reconnaissance, while also establishing contact with a civilian informer. Assured that the Germans didn’t patrol at night, Eastwood led three of his men (Edwards remained in the cave) along a mule track towards the village of Linaria on the evening of 19 October. ‘Suddenly we saw a patrol with mules less than twenty yards in front of us,’ recalled Corporal Curle. ‘[We] took cover behind large rocks next to the track, hoping we had not been seen.’13
It appeared they hadn’t. Curle said that the enemy passed by and ‘gave absolutely no sign of any knowledge of our whereabouts’. Just as the LRDG thought they had got away with it, the Germans went into action, wheeling round with their weapons pointed at the men crouched behind the rocks. One of the Germans pulled a grenade from his belt. Eastwood emerged, his hands in the air. At the same moment, Whitehead broke cover and tore down the hill towards the sea. Curle and Reed stood up with the intention of blocking the Germans’ view. A couple of shots were fired after Whitehead, but the Germans didn’t give chase. Instead they disarmed the three LRDG men and escorted them down the mule track, their hands on their heads and under strict instructions to remain silent. They spent the rest of the night at the German HQ in Calino, and the next day their interrogation commenced. It was civilized and the trio declined the Germans’ invitation to speak. ‘Enemy friendly but watchful,’ reported Curle. ‘Consider the British are gentlemen in fighting and [we] were treated accordingly. Received some food as Germans [have] more than sufficient quantities.’14
In the early morning of 23 October, Eastwood, Curle and Reed were joined in captivity by Edwards and Tant. The latter had been captured by a German patrol as he searched for his comrades. So, too, was Edwards, an indication that the Germans on Kalymnos were experienced troops and not soldiers deemed unfit for combat on the Eastern Front. The five LRDG soldiers were transferred to Kos, now in the hands of the Germans, where they were lined up on the quayside. General Friedrich-Wilhelm Müller appeared, the officer in charge of German forces in the Dodecanese. Known as the ‘Butcher of Crete’, Müller had a reputation for brutality in responding to any sign of resistance among the local population. He moved down the line of the prisoners, recalled Curle, ‘and after looking at us for about five minutes walked inside. He did not say anything.’15
If Müller had intended to intimidate his prisoners into meek obedience, he failed. Within a few days, all had escaped. It was on 27 October that Corporal Curle detected a possible route to freedom. Imprisoned with other Allied soldiers in the village of Antimachia, 15 miles from Kos harbour, they were taken each day to an ablutions block. ‘On returning [I] noticed a possible chance of escape,’ remembered Curle. They were marched in single file with one guard ahead and one behind. ‘The rear guard was blind for a few seconds and a good hideout was only a few yards away.’16
Curle discussed the matter with Eastwood and the others, and they all agreed it was worth a go. Eastwood, Edwards and Reed were the first to try, slipping away unobserved from the disinterested guards. Tant was next to go, and Curle made his bid on the morning of 29 October. It was surprisingly easy to get away unseen, and having spent the day in hiding, Curle emerged at dusk and headed into the mountains. The few civilians he met were only too happy to provide directions and share what little food they had. On 30 October he was reunited with Tant and the pair were soon put in contact with a Greek intelligence officer living rough in the mountains. He organized their evacuation off Kalymnos and Curle and Tant were soon back in Leros, as were Eastwood, Edwards and Reid, also on account of the intelligence officer.
There they were reunited with Corporal Whitehead, who had quite a tale to tell. Having fled downhill, he avoided the bullets from the German patrol and dived into the sea in the belief they were in hot pursuit. He swam quite a distance away from the shore, ‘hoping to mislead the enemy’, and then changed direction, swimming parallel to the coast, eventually landing about 500 yards from his taking-off point. He made his way carefully back up the hillside, but Edwards wasn’t in the cave. The mountains were now thick with Germans, so Whitehead sought sanctuary from an old shepherd, ‘who fed me and gave me clothes and a place to sleep’. At great risk to himself, the shepherd sheltered Whitehead for four days before the soldier made contact with members of the local resistance. He was eventually picked up on the night of 5 November and returned to Leros, furnishing the Allies with a detailed report on the strength, location and morale of the Germans. Whitehead ended his report with a word about the locals: ‘During my stay on the island everyone did all they could to help me, despite the fact that the day following our route the Germans published a proclamation stating anyone harbouring British troops or agents would pay the ultimate penalty of death.’17
C HAPTER 14
THE BATTLE FOR LEROS
With Kalymnos and Kos in the hands of the Germans and the Americans adamant that they weren’t going to become involved in the Aegean, Britain by the start of November had abandoned any pretence that its strategy in the region was anything but defensive; instead of trying to seize the islands from the Germans, the focus switched to reinforcing the existing garrison on Leros.
German infantry push upwards and inland on Leros. On Mount Climi, John Olivey’s Rhodesian patrol fought them off in bloody hand-to-hand fighting. (Getty)
The SBS arrived on the island in the first week of October, disembarking at the deep-water port of Lakki (known to the Italians as Porto Lago) on the south-west
coast of the island. Their commanding officer, David Sutherland, wrote: ‘Leros is eight miles long and four wide with two narrow mile-long beaches in the middle … There are three barren, hilly features, each about 1,000 feet high. In the southwest corner is the all-weather harbour Porto Lago Bay.’1 The joke among the SBS, as told to them by the LRDG, was that Leros resembled in shape ‘a large cowpat trodden on by two feet!’ But this particular ‘cowpat’ wasn’t soft and flat; its surface was rocky and mountainous, wholly unsuitable for an airfield. What Leros did have, however, was a chain of formidable coastal batteries overlooking the island’s six bays. By November Leros had been divided into three defensive zones – north, south and central – with the 4th Royal East Kent (The Buffs), 2nd Royal Irish Fusiliers and 1st King’s Own Royal Regiment responsible for the sectors.
This force was strengthened by sappers, Ordnance Corps and the SBS and LRDG, as well as the existing Italian garrison. In overall command of the island’s defence was Brigadier Robert Tilney, whose fortress HQ ‘consisted of a single twisting tunnel blasted right through the peak of Meraviglia’, in the centre of Leros. Alongside him in his command post was Guy Prendergast, recently appointed second-in-command of ‘Raiding Forces’, the co-ordinating headquarters of all the disparate special forces units operating in the Aegean. Now, the LRDG, the SBS, the Levant Schooner Flotilla and the Greek Sacred Squadron – two other special forces units, the former comprising Royal Navy personnel who ferried the raiders to targets in Greek fishing boats, and the latter similar in modus operandi to the SBS – were under the command of Colonel Douglas Turnbull, with Prendergast his second-in-command. It was not an appointment welcomed by the LRDG (although the appointment of Jake Easonsmith as the new CO met with approval nonetheless), who considered that Prendergast’s experience and expertise would be better used commanding the LRDG, a position from where he could liaise closely with Raiding Forces HQ.
The Long Range Desert Group in World War II Page 15
