Breakout (Combined Operations Book 7)

by Griff Hosker

  "As much as I enjoy listening to your jaundiced view of the world did you get what we needed?"

  Lieutenant Ross smiled, "Oh yes sir. We drove a fair way down the coast and found some American landing craft. They were landing supplies. They were quite keen to be shown around the half track and let us help ourselves. Jolly obliging."

  Emerson lit a cigarette, "And we even got some petrol." He slapped the half track affectionately. "Bertha got up to thirty five miles an hour!"

  Bill Hay said suspiciously, "How do you know that? The speedo is in kilometres."

  Private Beaumont smiled, "I had a bit of acetate and I made him one in miles. Fred thinks it is more British."

  "You can't beat Imperial. None of this Continental nonsense. Litres and kilometres! You know where you are with miles and gallons!"

  I saw that Fletcher was lifting out what looked like a large icebox. "What have you got there, Corporal Fletcher?"

  "The pièce de résistance! Steaks!"

  "They gave you steaks?"

  He shook his head, "Not exactly gave, more swapped. You remember when we captured that staff car sir? Well the German flag was in it. I swapped it for the steaks. We have enough for two days!"

  Bill Hay shook his head, "We are fighting in the wrong army, sir! Let's join the Yanks!"

  "Wasn't the flag worth more than a few steaks Fletcher? It isn't like you to let something like that go cheaply."

  "I figure we will get another, sir. The war isn't over yet. Easy come easy go."

  Sergeant Poulson said, "Well how are we going to cook them? We have a petrol cooker which can take one pan at a time! We will be here all night."

  I remembered the large oil drums we had found when we first arrived. We had dumped them with the other rubbish. "Private Beaumont, go with Emerson and fetch in two oil drums. If we cut them in two we can make a barbecue."

  "A what sir?"

  "At last! Something our Liverpudlian friend does not know! It is an open air way of cooking. Trust me you are in for a surprise tonight."

  Private Beaumont and I were the only two who knew what a barbecue looked like but the others enjoyed the challenge of making them. Shepherd went off and returned with some heavy duty wire mesh. It made a perfect grill. We had plenty of wood and we soon had a fire going. I let them choose their own steak and then showed them how I prepared mine. We had often had food like this when using our French home. Corporal Fletcher had also managed to liberate some red wine and the evening proved a great success. Lieutenant Ross found the wine a little rough for his taste.

  "Trust me, John, when you have been over here long enough this will taste like nectar. I bet you are remembering wine from before the war."

  He nodded, "Yes sir. My parents allowed me to drink wine from the age of thirteen. My father had a fine cellar."

  "We all remember those days but since the war started?"

  He thought for a moment, "You are right sir."

  "We all do it. The past is a lovely place to visit but don't stay there. The world changes, John, and we change with it." He nodded sagely and when he drank his wine he smiled a little more. "So, will you be off to London with the Major tomorrow?"

  "I hope not sir. I like it here." He leaned in and spoke quietly, "To be truthful these chaps scared me when I first met them. There was only Private Beaumont I understood. But they are damned good chaps. And they are damned good at their job. You have a good unit. I envy you."

  "Have you done any combat training, John?"

  "Just when training to be an officer. It was damned exciting. War games, teams, ambushes; I loved it."

  "None of us had training like that. I trained by joining up as a private and the rest learned on the job. These are good chaps but every one of them is a killer. They can kill with a gun, a knife, a rock and even their bare hands. None of them would hesitate to kill and they wouldn't lose any sleep over it. You, I think, would. What you see here is the tip of the iceberg."

  "I know I could never be in combat with you, sir, but it would be good to be doing something useful."

  He reminded me of Hugo Ferguson. "And the lads all appreciate you and what you do here but Major Foster may need you in London."

  "Perhaps." He did not sound convinced.

  We were awoken, in the night, by the sound of shellfire and tanks as the Canadians and Poles, to the north of us, began their offensive. I wished them luck. Just before dawn I went around to shake awake the section. There were thick heads when I woke them but no one shirked the run I had organised. Lieutenant Ross asked to come but, as I pointed out, he had to get to the airfield and pick up the Major. "Besides these lads take no prisoners! They will all try to beat me and it will be a hard run."

  We set off before six. We would run to Ouistreham and back. It was seventeen miles all told and would be a good test of Sergeant Poulson's wound. We did not run with weapons and Bergens. We just ran in our battle dress. I wanted to it to be a real run. When we had covered six miles I worried that Polly would hold us up for he was a good fifty yards behind us. Bill Hay looked around as though contemplating dropping back. John Hewitt said, "It will do him no good if you do drop back Lance Sergeant. He either has to keep up with us or realise that he is not ready."

  Hewitt was right. We kept our steady pace. There were road blocks along the road but I think it was obvious we were Commandos from our shoulder flashes. We were jeered and we had catcalls but it was all in fun. We turned around at the mole. It was just over two months since we had come ashore. How things had changed. As we turned to return I noticed that Sergeant Poulson had closed with us. He was less than fifty feet from us now and his breathing looked better. I saw Hewitt nodding.

  With five miles to go he ran next to me and managed to say. "I have my second wind now sir."

  "Good man."

  Private Beaumont began to open his legs, Shepherd joined him and the pace was picked up. I knew that I could have overtaken him but I wanted Sergeant Poulson to be part of the team again. It had been a long journey for him. With our quarters in sight Roger looked around and saw the rest of us keeping pace with Sergeant Poulson. He and Ken began to slow so that we all reached home as one. That was their way and I was proud of every single one of them.

  Bill Hay said, "Well I am hungry! Let's see what else Scouse got from the Yanks!"

  There were tinned peaches and powdered pancake mix. The Americans had different rations to us. They were both novel enough for us to relish the prospect of an exotic breakfast. As we ate a well deserved breakfast washed down with Sergeant Major's tea I said, "This afternoon and tomorrow morning will be your last free time. I can't imagine the Major letting us sit here enjoying the sun. Make the most of it."

  Fred said, "Sir we managed to get some paint. We thought of changing the colour scheme on Bertha."

  I shook my head, "It's your free time. Waste it how you want." I received my answer when he, Private Beaumont and Ken Shepherd leapt to their feet.

  Scouse said, "I will have a wander down town, sir, if you don't mind. I'd like to see a bit of it."

  The others found things to occupy them so that, at one o'clock, when the truck arrived with the Major, I was alone. I was overjoyed when Gordy Barker and Pete Davis jumped from the back of the truck. "Well you two are a sight for sore eyes. All signed off?"

  "Yes sir. They had a dragon at our hospital. She would have made a belting Sergeant Major. Where are the rest of the lads?"

  "They are around. Three of them are round the back with Bertha!"

  "Bertha?"

  "You'll see." They saluted and sped off.

  Major Foster shook his head, "You do run a unique section here, Tom." He waved a hand at the roughly repaired quarters. "I like what you have done with the place."

  "Sir, do you need me?"

  "Not for a while John, why?"

  "I thought I might go and give them a hand with Bertha."

  "Of course." The Lieutenant ran off and Major Foster asked, "Who the hell is this B
ertha?"

  "It is not a who it is a what. We picked up a German half track."

  "A German... I won't ask." He opened his briefcase. "Before I forget I have this for you." I recognized Susan's handwriting as he handed me the letter. "I hope she was careful. It did not pass through the censor!"

  "Thanks for this."

  "Oh and your father said hello. He arrived on the aeroplane with me. He is taking over from tomorrow."

  I put the letter away for later. That was a pleasure I would savour. "Thanks. Things are a little precarious here right now. The Germans attacked yesterday which nearly made a mess of the offensive this morning."

  Major Foster nodded. He glanced around, "I know Tom. We had intelligence of the German attack and we thought we had prepared for it. Obviously we didn't. You and your lads did well. This operation, Totalize, is just the first part of a two part operation. The second, Tractable, will begin almost as soon as we have met our objectives. The Americans will join up with us and, with any luck, we will have a German army in the bag."

  "Sir, these are S,S. They don't roll over and play dead and they do not surrender. This will be bloody."

  "Tom, be more positive, your mission was a huge success. The German attack would have been much more dangerous yesterday had they had more fuel. From the reports I received they only had seventy five Panthers and Tigers to use in the attack. It was not their full strength."

  "They will just dig them in. Hull down they will be almost impossible to destroy."

  "And that is why your father is here. His experience in the desert has given him an insight into close infantry support. He has Mosquitoes and Typhoons. The Americans have the Lightnings and P-47s. The air is ours. They have rockets and we know they are capable of destroying tanks."

  "With respect sir the Mossy and the Tiffy are both very good against the Mark IV but a dug in Tiger is a different prospect."

  "I am disappointed, Tom. I thought you would have been more optimistic. Your father is in command."

  "Sir, I was there yesterday when three tanks, one of them broken down, almost broke through our lines when we were expecting an attack. If he arrived today then my father will not have a handle on the situation." I pointed north. The sound of the battle could be heard. "Right now Sherman tanks are going against Tigers!"

  He smiled, "The same old Tom. Well you are part of the Tractable offensive. Trun is one of our targets. You are familiar with the area."

  "Sir we knocked out the bridges and the dump has gone. What possible value does it hold for us now?"

  "Ah, they rebuilt the bridges or replaced them, at least. When Tractable begins we want you to go in with the Fourth Canadian Armoured Division. You will go ahead of them when they near Trun and hold at least one of the bridges until you are relieved. We have a Kangaroo for you to use."

  "A Kangaroo?"

  "Yes they are a Churchill tank without a turret converted to a troop carrier."

  I shook my head, "No sir, we will use Bertha. The Churchill is slower."

  "But it has better armour."

  "What you need, sir, is speed and besides my lads know our half track. You have to trust me on this one, sir."

  "Very well. Here I will show you the overall picture and it might help you to understand the importance of your mission." He drew me a rough map and I could see that the high ground to the north of Trun and Falaise was perfect for holding the Germans but the Canadians and Poles they would be using would have to hold out until Monty brought the Second Army in support.

  "Right sir. I can see how it would work. I am still sceptical but... When does it begin?"

  "That depends upon Totalize. I will be based at the airfield. I will go there tomorrow and I will take Lieutenant Ross with me. He will liaise with you. Are you happy to stay here?"

  "We are comfortable, sir."

  "Good. How is Lieutenant Ross? He is a bright lad. He has a great future on the staff."

  "He has shown himself to be resourceful sir. He will be sorry to leave us I know that."

  "Your band of pirates has that effect. I hear that your Sergeant Wilkinson has asked for a transfer back here."

  "Sergeant?"

  "Yes in light of your report it was decided to promote him. Hopefully the Second Brigade will have a section like yours eventually. We will go through the details when your lads return."

  It was their stomachs which dictated their return. "Private Beaumont go and light the barbecues. We will have the briefing from the major while they are heating up and then we can eat."

  "Barbecues? You are barbecuing corned beef?"

  Lieutenant Ross smiled, "Oh no sir. We are having steak tonight... again!"

  Chapter 10

  My men were quite happy with the operation. I watched as they discussed various aspects of it They, like me, recognised the dangers but we were confident in our own ability. The questions were for clarification rather than whingeing and whining. It was obvious that they knew their jobs.

  Major Foster was impressed by both their attitude and the food. "You certainly know how to make the best of a bad job! Steak! In wartime!"

  "We are Commandos. You know how we operate. We live off the land and make do and mend. It is second nature to us."

  "I think I am regretting accepting your father's offer of accommodation."

  "Don't worry sir. You will be more comfortable there. I expect they will have an officers' mess with waiters and bar men. Besides the steaks cost Fletcher a Nazi flag! We won't eat as well again for some time! We were just lucky that some American brass had requisitioned steak and the deliverymen were happy to barter it. Such is war. We just try to make the best of what we have."

  He laughed, "You mean neat navy rum as a nightcap?"

  "I watered it down!"

  He nodded, "But, I fear, no steaks Tom!"

  "Sorry about that, sir. Let's just say my lads are good at scrounging." I knew the rum would help him to sleep in the dusty half derelict building that was our home.

  I had not drunk as much as the others and I read Susan's letter while I listened to the snores from my men.

  July 1944

  Tom,

  Major Foster has just told me that I can write a letter to you. Joy of joys, it won't be read by Wild West!

  I know about your last mission. I barely slept and I have an idea what your next will be. Take care. I have the bigger picture here and I know that the war can't last a great deal longer. You are fighting fanatics!

  Your mum came down to London and she and your father took me to the Ritz! You are lucky. Your mum and dad are the best. We had a lovely time. I showed them the ring and your mum burst into tears! I did too. I hope you don't mind but your mum and I began planning the wedding. I know we will have to wait until the war is over but your mum seems so keen.

  On my next leave your mum has invited me to your home. I hope I can meet your sister.

  I will have to close now as the Major has just come back.

  I love you,

  Take care,

  Susan

  xxx

  It was a brief letter but I read and re-read it until I could recite it. It was a connection with home. I did not think that the wedding would be any time soon. It had take us a month to reach the objective Montgomery had set for the first few days of the invasion. We were travelling like a snail. As I turned out my light I could still hear, in the distance, sporadic gunfire and the sound of tanks. The advance was heading east but how successful would it be?

  The Major and Lieutenant left early for the airfield. We now had a timetable and a focus. Despite what Gordy had said I knew that most of the men were woefully short of the high standards before D-Day. I gathered them together the next day.

  "Private Beaumont, Hewitt and I will be gathering together what we need for the mission. The rest of you will get fit. "Private Shepherd is the fittest of you. When he finishes toward the back of the runs then you are ready. Sergeant Poulson, how are the chest exercises coming along?"<
br />
  "It is working, sir. Don't worry. We will be ready."

  I had the letter which Lieutenant Ross had used and I wore my battledress with the ribbons. I would use any means possible to get what we needed."Where to then, sir?"

  Private Beaumont had changed since he had joined us as the shy young recruit. Scouse Fletcher had much to do with that.

  "We need at least one sniper rifle and a grenade launcher. We also need some tin lids."

  "I thought we didn't wear them sir?"

  "We don't when we are sneaking around and we will not need them until we get to the bridge but if we have Jerry shells flying around I would like to have my head protected. And we need explosives."

  Private Beaumont looked puzzled, "Aren't we supposed to hold the bridge?"

  "We are but if the cavalry is late and there are German tanks trying to get over then we will blow it. Besides I would like you to be able to set off some little surprises on the south bank of the river."

  As we had plenty of petrol for Bertha we took her down to the beach. This time we were not heading for the American sector, we needed the British area. It was still landing craft which were bringing in supplies. We left Hewitt with the half track and we walked down the beach feeling like beachcombers. I saw men of the Warwickshire regiment and they were unloading, not from a landing craft, but from a lorry. I wandered over to the young Lieutenant. "What is going on here, Lieutenant?"

  I saw him take in my rank, flashes and ribbons. He saluted. "Sir, we have come from the graveyard sir. This is the spare equipment from those who we buried."

  "What is there here?"

  "Mainly helmets, boots, webbings and haversacks. They are going home to be reused."

  "You would be doing us a great favour if you would let us have a dozen of the helmets."

  "What for sir? If you don't mind me asking? You chaps like your comforters."

  "True but we are going up the line and I would like to see the end of the war."