Breakout from Juno

by Mark Zuehlke

  The Glens bumped continuing sporadic opposition as they entered Caen’s outskirts. Each time, the tanks shot up the buildings the Germans were in, and the advance rapidly recommenced. Soon the column pushed into Caen proper and, at 1330 hours, Christiansen reported being “in the centre of town.” The tanks eliminated each small pocket of resistance. During these short, sharp engagements, the Glens were surprised by civilians emerging “out of cellars at the first lull, bringing roses and wine to the troops. The roses were gratefully accepted, but the drinking of wine during the action had been strictly forbidden and no soldier broke that rule,” Christiansen later claimed.

  The destruction in the city increased with every yard gained. Soon the streets were so clogged with rubble the tanks could go no farther. The two leading infantry companies, advancing along parallel streets, repeatedly had to scale hills of debris created by collapsed buildings. At 1440 hours, they reached the Orne and s pread out between an old stone bridge on their left and a railway bridge on the right. Both had been blown, so gaining a crossing was impossible.

  Within his occupation area, Christiansen was dismayed to find a large hospital—Hôpital du Bon Sauveur—containing “about 4,000 patients, far in excess of its normal capacity, most of them victims of the bombing of Caen.”24

  The Glens declared themselves the first Canadians into Caen, but they competed for that honour with ‘A’ Squadron of the 17th Duke of York’s—particularly with the Humber armoured car crew of Lieutenant A.E. Doig, Trooper K. Johnson, and Trooper L. Mathew.25 The army’s official historian hedged his bets on the real winner by declaring that the armoured cars “had been little if at all in advance of the infantry.”26 Doig had gained the river by weaving along various streets and alleys that were not hopelessly clogged by collapsed buildings or downed power lines. At the river he thought they might have won a bridge intact, only to find it blocked by rubble and covered by German machine-gun positions on the opposite shore. The rest of ‘A’ Squadron soon caught up and spread into defensive positions, from where they enjoyed shooting up retreating German forces that came within range. When infantry arrived, the armoured cars withdrew.27

  Caen “was a painful spectacle.” Only the “island of refuge” around the great Abbaye-aux-Hommes and the hospital had been spared destruction. This area lay within the sector the Glens controlled. It turned out the French Resistance had managed to warn the British not to shell this area, to avoid killing the thousands who had taken refuge there.28

  The Glens were welcomed as liberators. Roses and wine provided “a heartfelt welcome. It makes us feel proud to have had a small part in the relief of these, and other people,” Lieutenant Dixon wrote.29 More importantly, only eight Glens had died this day.30 But as they dug in alongside the river, unerringly accurate artillery and mortar fire started falling. The battle for Caen was not yet done.

  BY NIGHTFALL ON July 9, all of 9th Brigade and two 7th Brigade battalions had moved into Caen. Although the other battalions entering the city suffered few casualties getting there, their positions along the river were subject to mortar and sniper fire. They were also beset by the usual calamities and accidents that occur when everyone carries a gun he is quick to use. Captain Gordon Brown’s ‘D’ Company led the Regina Rifles from the Abbaye d’Ardenne to Caen. Moving through the city’s outskirts, their attention was drawn to a large property surrounded by a stout fence with a locked gate. Not wanting to pass by a potential enemy fortress, Brown ordered a man to shoot the lock off. “The bullet broke and the larger part entered my neck, struck a vertebra just behind the throat and … remains there to this day,” he later wrote. This mishap hospitalized Brown for ten days.31 He was one of three Reginas wounded that day.32

  The Canadians were repeatedly finding civilians hiding in unexpected places. When Canadian Scottish Regiment’s Lieutenant Tom Butters and one of his men happened on a Frenchman harvesting vegetables from a Saint-Germain garden, the farmer led them to a deep mine shaft. Access was via a steel ladder anchored to one wall. Candlelight illuminated the bottom of the shaft. Butters saw that the shaft was sheltering a large number of women and children. Shouldering his bag of vegetables, the man prepared to climb down the ladder. Hoping to find some food to contribute, Butters patted his pockets, only to come up with a cigarette pack. He handed this to the man, who accepted it with much gratitude.33

  Along the banks of the Orne, 9th Brigade had tied in with soldiers of the 3rd British Infantry Division. West of the city, meanwhile, an 8th Brigade patrol out of Bretteville-sur-Odon had linked up along the Odon with 43rd British Infantry Division. Because 8th Brigade faced in a southeasterly direction away from Caen, British Second Army headquarters decided to place it temporarily under 43rd Division’s command.34

  The advance into Caen closed Operation Charnwood. With the objective won, Canadian divisional staff declared Charnwood “most successful … Again the [division] had risen magnificently to the occasion in spite of being a trifle war weary after thirty-five days steady front line fighting and no easy victories.” But the cost was high—1,194 casualties of which 330 were fatal. The 9th Brigade bore the brunt with 616 battle casualties.35 The division’s total losses in the two-day period exceeded those of the D-Day assault. The 2nd Canadian Armoured Brigade fared far better, just two officers and eleven men killed, three officers and thirty-eight wounded.36

  Despite being personally exhausted from not having slept for forty-eight hours, Brigadier Ben Cunningham wrote a message to 9th Brigade’s troops before going to bed on the night of July 9.37 “The determination, skill and bravery displayed by you in your battles for Buron, Gruchy, Authie, Saint-Louet, Franqueville and finally Caen is deserving of and is receiving the highest praise. You, one and all, may feel proud of the individual part you have contributed. The spirit of the 9th Canadian Infantry Brigade once more displayed itself. The result of the battle may be considered by each one of you as a personal victory; it was by your efforts the battle in our sector was won. You have proved by your actions that there are no better troops than yourselves. Of this you have never had a doubt; now it has been demonstrated to the world.”38

  But in fact 9th Brigade was unwittingly embroiled in a controversy over its performance in Charnwood. I British Corps’s Lieutenant General John Crocker felt Cunningham had been overly cautious, frittering away opportunities for rapid advances.39 Agreeing, Major General Rod Keller asked Lieutenant General Harry Crerar on the evening of July 9 to fire Cunningham. The brigadier, Keller said, had repeatedly failed to “get-on,” while hesitating to commit reserves quickly. Cunningham’s “lack of drive” had cost the brigade heavily on July 8 at Authie and delayed its arrival in Caen.

  Still dealing with the earlier criticism of Keller himself made by Crocker, Second Army commander Lieutenant General Myles Dempsey, and Montgomery, Crerar was exasperated. He told Keller to present Lieutenant General Guy Simonds with a full written complaint.40

  Crocker, meanwhile, was even more loudly demanding Keller’s head. Crerar knew the allegations against both Canadians must be addressed. But he decided to let Simonds resolve them. Crerar cautioned Simonds that Crocker’s way of working with Keller might not have “brought out the best in the latter.” He added that until Simonds was convinced that Keller’s judgment was sound, he could not “give weight to [Keller’s] views concerning his own immediate subordinate.”41 Simonds was to deal with these matters by July 13.42

  CRERAR ALSO REMAINED on shaky ground, as Montgomery continued to impede First Canadian Army’s full deployment. Whenever Crerar sought a firm date, Montgomery was evasive. In a note to the Chief of Imperial General Staff, General Sir Alan Brooke, Montgomery reiterated that Crerar was “a bad judge of men … and does not know what a good soldier should be. When I hand over a sector to Crerar I will certainly teach him his stuff, and I shall give him tasks within his capabilities. And I shall watch over him carefully. I have a great personal affection for him, but this must not … lead me into doing unsound things.�
��43

  Instead, Montgomery assigned both II Canadian Corps and I British Corps—eventually to be consigned to First Canadian Army command—to Dempsey’s Second British Army. This gave Dempsey responsibility for five full corps instead of the normal army maximum complement of three. Montgomery’s insistence that the bridgehead remained too constricted to permit deployment of another army headquarters increasingly strained credulity.44

  Saddling Dempsey with responsibility for five corps was not really an undue hardship, because Montgomery expected the corps commanders to operate independently during battle—turning to army command more for logistical support than operational guidance. Regarding the Canadians, Montgomery thought Simonds “far better than Crerar” and “the equal of any British Corps Commander.” He also had faith in Crocker. So there was no reason to let Crerar into the game.45

  Brooke, however, had acquaintance with Crerar and trusted his generalship. Isolating Crerar for much longer would not do, Brooke wrote Montgomery, because Canada’s government “will insist that Canadian forces should be commanded by Canadians … For that reason, I want you to make the best possible use of Crerar, he must be retained in Command of the Canadian Army, and must be given his Canadians under his command at the earliest convenient moment. You can keep his Army small & give him the less important role, and you will have to teach him.”

  Brooke’s note forced Montgomery to abandon the hope of getting rid of Crerar entirely. But as all the Canadians in Normandy were at the moment coming under command of II Canadian Corps, national honour should be assuaged by having Simonds at its head. Now was not the time, he reiterated, to let First Canadian Army become operational.46 Montgomery conceded to having Crerar exert “executive” command over the Canadians. This position played to Crerar’s strengths as an administrator. Crerar was strict on discipline, something he thought had slipped badly in the 3rd Division ranks. He ordered Simonds and Keller to exert a firmer grip. He fretted over the increased rates of venereal disease and battle exhaustion cases, suspecting that many of the latter were fraudulent. The cure for all these ills, he told Simonds, was strict discipline. Suspected cases of faked exhaustion were to be thoroughly investigated and the guilty men harshly punished to warn others not to try seeking “this way out.”47

  As for Crerar, even as he put his mind to competently performing the limited role Montgomery allowed him, he was seething with barely hidden outrage. Montgomery’s treatment, he believed, reflected the “Englishman’s traditional belief in the superiority of the Englishman.” No “Canadian, or American, or other ‘national’ [commander], unless possessing quite phenomenal qualities, is ever rated as high as the equivalent Britisher.”

  Montgomery, of course, believed that Simonds possessed those “phenomenal qualities,” while Crerar was written off as “a most awfully nice chap” but one who was “very prosy and stodgy, and … very definitely not a commander.”48

  Simonds had commanded 1st Canadian Infantry Division under Montgomery through the Sicily invasion. By the time that campaign ended, Montgomery had developed “the highest opinion of Simonds … Briefly my views are that Simonds is a first class soldier. After a period with an armoured division,” he had written in late 1943, “he will be suitable for a corps. He will be a very valuable officer in the Canadian Forces as [there is] no one else with his experience.”49

  [ 7 ]

  Little Excuse for It

  AT FORT Y-ONE, LIEUTENANT General Guy Simonds had enjoyed a spectacular rise through the course of the war to date. By January 1944, he had been promoted from the rank of major to that of major general. That month, he took over II Canadian Corps and gained a lieutenant generalcy. Tall and lean with grey-blue eyes that fixed others with unnerving steadiness, jet-black hair that had a little wave at the temple, and a precisely trimmed moustache, Simonds looked exactly the way a senior army officer should. Like Montgomery, his words were always clipped and to the point. Born in England but raised in Victoria, Simonds retained or emulated many British mannerisms. Time spent at British staff college had further cemented his anglophilia. As had his adulation of Montgomery. Although inclined more towards proper dress than Montgomery, he still affected Eighth Army’s careless manner and favoured the armoured service black beret. Also like his mentor, Simonds was supremely certain of his innate ability, sharply critical of others, and egotistic. Unlike Montgomery, however, Simonds had little ability to inspire common soldiers. He was too cold, too withdrawn, and too arrogant. Even with fellow officers he was distant, reserved, and all too often condescending.

  What Simonds looked for in subordinates was competency and obedience. Upon arriving at II Canadian Corps, he had announced to its officers: “There are some of you in whom I have not much confidence. I will see you all individually the next day and tell you why.” Many top corps staff officers were summarily dismissed. So, too, were the commanders of 2nd Infantry Division and 4th Armoured Division.1 Only 3rd Division’s Major General Rod Keller remained standing. Persuaded by Crerar, Simonds agreed that Charles Foulkes would have 2nd Division and selected a personal favourite, George Kitching, to lead the armoured division.

  Simonds had a reputation as the Canadian Army’s most gifted strategist and tactician. He had authored several influential military journal articles addressing the future of warfare in a modern setting, where armour would play a decisive role. Once at the helm of II Canadian Corps, Simonds began “educating” his formation commanders by distributing writings on subjects such as operational policy, attack strategy, efficiency of command, removing ineffective officers, recommending others for promotion, and even his view of “essential” leadership qualities. On the latter subject, he offered three legal-sized pages of observation and advice in single-spaced type. Among specifics covered were what he identified as moral qualities—character, loyalty, self-confidence, and a sense of duty. Mental qualities, such as knowledge, judgement, initiative, and alertness, were equally necessary. So, too, were the physical qualities of fitness, skill at arms, and youth. Of the latter, Simonds wrote, “A man is never too young for a job, but he may well be too old, for age reduces speed of mental and physical reaction.” Age was often cited as sufficient justification for his relieving an officer. Simonds also expressed his thoughts on the common soldier. “If well trained, directed and led,” he wrote, “the Canadian soldier is unsurpassed by any in the world. Coupled with a rugged courage, ready adaptability, initiative and amenability to sound discipline, the average standard of intelligence of our soldiers is very high indeed. If properly directed in battle, this intelligence is a great asset, for it makes troops very quick to take advantage of the breaks on the battlefield. But if indifferently directed or led, this same intelligence becomes a great disadvantage, for Canadian soldiers are quick to detect a badly planned or organized operation or wavering and indecision in leadership, and their confidence is more easily shaken than is the case with a more stolid soldiery. They will go into the attack with great dash and courage and a badly planned operation may result in failure with heavy casualties and a loss of confidence requiring a long time to recover. The responsibility which falls to those who undertake to lead Canadian troops in battle is not a light one.”2

  AT 1500 HOURS on July 1 1, “1 year and 1 day since [ I Canadian Infantry Division] under Gen. Simonds went ashore in Sicily,” he assumed command of those Canadian Army units operating in Normandy. II Canadian Corps chief of s taff Brigadier Elliot Rodger scrawled this notation in his personal diary.3 He later added: “Never have I worked with such a precise and clear and far seeing mind, he was always working to a plan with a clear cut objective which he took care to let us know in simple and direct terms … He reduced problems in a flash to basic facts and variables, picked out those that mattered, ignored those that were side issues and made up his mind and got on with it.”4

  Simonds immediately set about learning what plans Montgomery had for the next stage of operations and the Canadian role. II Canadian Corps took 3rd Infa
ntry Division, standing guard in Caen, under command. It also controlled 2nd Infantry Division, which had deployed into the crowded beachhead only on July 9.5 Arrival of 4th Armoured Division would be delayed until there was more shoulder room. The delay in bringing in the armoured division added credence to Montgomery’s argument that Crerar and his army headquarters need not yet become fully operational. But Montgomery was running out of time. The Chief of the Imperial Staff, General Sir Alan Brooke, had set a July 23 deadline for Crerar to be given command of the Canadians and I British Corps.

  For now, however, he could keep Crerar isolated. When Montgomery met with his army commanders on July 10, Crerar was notably not invited. Yet this was an important meeting—one called to discuss the future of Allied operations in Normandy. The mood among the assembled generals was glum. While Caen had finally fallen, there was no hope that an immediate breakout from the beachhead would follow. American General Omar Bradley’s divisions remained mired in marshy countryside, segmented into checkerboard squares by rows of thick bocage. Bradley confessed that the attempted U.S. First Army breakout had failed. He feared a Great War–style stalemate could develop in Normandy.6

  Even after winning Caen, the Allies remained “roped off” from the open ground of the French interior. A Twenty-First Army Group intelligence report warned that the Germans would continue to “resist any attempt to break out of his cordon,” for the most defensible ground lay immediately east of the city. Keeping the Allies penned in, however, also required the Germans to keep their armoured divisions in the front lines. While doing so had prevented any major Allied armoured thrust, it was inflicting upon the German panzer divisions unsustainable rates of loss. Every time the Germans tried to withdraw armoured divisions from the front for rebuilding, they were forced to return in order to stem a renewed Allied advance. Montgomery’s dilemma was how to break this impasse.7