Breakout from Juno

by Mark Zuehlke

  Continually urged to make haste, Christiansen had Dixon record the reasons for the delay. Gaining the start line had required a bulldozer’s intervention to clear a path through the rubble created by the bombing. Being shelled by their own medium artillery had thrown the battalion into “confusion and concernment.” Then there was the refusal to provide tanks. “As it was, much time was lost, and casualties were heavier” than they should have been.28

  WHILE THE CHAUDS and Glens had been fighting inside Colombelles, the North Shores had advanced behind an artillery barrage at about 1800 hours. The men were in extended lines, ‘B’ Company forward to the right and ‘D’ Company left. ‘C’ Company and ‘A’ Company followed, respectively. Buell’s tactical headquarters was in the middle. Walking ahead of its carrier, he led it into a small minefield. When a mine detonated beneath a track, a large spring narrowly missed Buell. Although dazed, the carrier’s three occupants suffered only scratches.

  It was soon apparent that the North Shores had caught the Germans off guard. The North Shores hooked into the vast steelworks. “Some of the enemy had been dazed by the [artillery] and showed little fight,” Buell later reported. “But others resisted fiercely, concealing themselves in dug-outs, craters and rubble, and had either to be killed or wounded. To clear the place of such opposition NCOs organized small parties to dislodge snipers and machine-gunners … So gradual and so difficult was the mopping-up process that the area was not clear until 0600 hours the next morning … Even then some sniping activity was heard during the day.”29

  “Take the largest steel mill in Hamilton,” Captain H.S. MacDonald wrote, “drop thousands of tons of bombs on it and then shell it and pour infantry through it and do a bit of scrapping—and what have you? Well, we have it. It was a big day for us. We gained a lot but had only a few casualties. I am sitting on rubble, my back against an iron vat, have two days’ growth as water is at a premium this side of the river Orne. Looking up and over and sideways you see just masses of twisted iron and concrete rubble, with white dust everywhere, all the men looking like ghosts.”30

  Like the North Shores and the Chauds, the Glens had fought through the night to secure their sector of Colombelles. They had advanced “literally yard by yard, unsupported by armour … and the men were weary. Their food had been only one hardtack biscuit and a single slice of Spam.” By 0400 hours on July 19, however, they had secured a start line for the rest of 9th Brigade to push into Vaucelles, where the 7th Brigade’s Reginas had already established themselves.

  At 1700 hours, Lieutenant Bergeron had led his scouts back across the bridges, just as a covering artillery barrage smothered the east bank of the Orne. A short round killed the guide, Raymond Chatelain. Fifteen minutes later, ‘A’ and ‘B’ Companies had begun crossing in a few amphibious trucks (DUK Ws).31 When it became apparent this would be a slow process, most of the men opted towade or swim across.32

  The two companies met only light resistance from several machine-gun posts and hidden snipers. Extensive bomb and shell damage made Vaucelles a difficult battlefield. It was also a sprawling, built-up area, with every suspicious rubble pile and still-standing house needing to be searched for hidden Germans. Lieutenant Jack Nelles commanded the flame-thrower platoon. As the carriers could not get across the river, he and his men were fighting as riflemen alongside ‘B’ Company. Nelles had another Free French volunteer along. Coming upon a stone house, the front yard secured by a high wall, Nelles told a couple of men and the Frenchman to cover him. “I’m going to run across the courtyard and look in the front door … and see if there’s anything doing.” As he dashed past a window, Nelles spotted a German heading out the back door. Nelles ordered one of his men to break down the front door. Then he led the way through with the Frenchman right on his heels. Reaching the backyard in time to see the last Germans escape over the wall, the Frenchman pushed past Nelles. Before Nelles could caution him, the man jumped up onto the wall, silhouetting himself against the sky. A shot rang out. The man fell backward and crashed through the glass roof of a greenhouse adjacent to the wall. Pulling him free, Nelles saw the man had been shot in the groin.

  Yanking out the field dressing that each soldier carried tucked into his helmet netting, Nelles cut the man’s pants open and stuffed the dressing into the bullet hole. He then used his belt as a tourniquet to force the dressing deeper into the wound. The man was in bad shape, still bleeding profusely, when he was evacuated. Nelles was surprised to learn later that he survived.33

  Night was falling by the time ‘C’ and ‘D’ Companies joined the leading companies. They had been held up by German artillery and mortar fire that destroyed most of the DUKWs. But by the time the Reginas were mostly intact on the east side of the Orne, at 2100 hours, German resistance in Vaucelles was crumbling. Two hours later, Lieutenant Colonel Foster Matheson established his battalion headquarters across the Orne in a “large dirty house” alongside the riverbank. The Reginas had taken sixty to seventy prisoners. Their own casualties numbered eighteen, three fatal. Captain William Sydney Huckvale, the battalion medical officer, had suffered a serious head wound while treating the wounded by the riverbank. For this and many earlier examples of selfless devotion to his duties, he received a Military Cross. His injuries were sufficiently severe that he was evacuated to Canada.34 Also wounded in Vaucelles was Captain Bill Grayson, who had led one of ‘A’ Company’s platoons ashore on June 6.35

  By nightfall on July 18, 3rd Division had largely achieved its assigned tasks for Operation Atlantic’s opening day. Despite major delays in seizing Colombelles, the decision to shift the Reginas across the river to win the southwestern portion of Vaucelles rescued the situation. During the night, 9th Brigade—ordered by Major General Keeler to carry out its tasks despite the darkness—moved the North Nova Scotia Highlanders into the northern part of Vaucelles. The Highland Light Infantry soon followed.

  Opposition in this part of Vaucelles was confined to snipers and the harassment of light artillery and mortar fire. The men’s biggest problem had proven to be getting through the giant steelworks. Unable to find straight forward routes for the vehicles, the infantry marched on alone. The North Novas’ carrier platoon was still winding through the steelworks when a mine exploded and flipped the lead vehicle onto its back. Lieutenant Glen Leland Gammel and Sergeant Carl Rector were killed. The driver, Private B. Irving, was caught under the carrier and badly burned, while Private Joe Staples lost both feet.36

  The Highland Light Infantry also had difficulty circumnavigating the steelworks. Its temporary commander, Major G.E.M. Edwards—having taken over after Lieutenant Colonel Frank Griffiths had been wounded in Buron—was injured by a sniper. Despite these setbacks, the HLI and Novas were established in the north part of Vaucelles by the early morning hours of July 19.37

  [ 10 ]

  Greenhorners

  SOUTHWEST OF CAEN, 2nd Canadian Infantry Division’s Major General Charles Foulkes had lingered through the morning of July 18 and into the mid-afternoon consulting brigade commanders, confirming plans with corps staff, and attending a meeting at 43rd British Infantry Division regarding its proposed attack on Maltôt. As 2nd Division’s war diarist noted, this attack “had been previously discussed” by staff of both divisions.1

  Lieutenant General Harry Crerar had once described Foulkes as possessing “exceptional ability; sound tactical knowledge; a great capacity for quick, sound decision; energy and driving power.” But on the eve of his first battle, he seemed hesitant and uncertain. At forty-one, Foulkes was a contemporary of Guy Simonds. Both Royal Military College graduates and Permanent Force officers, they started the war as majors and enjoyed subsequent rapid promotion. Similarities ended there. Foulkes was a Crerar favourite, who advanced through staff positions to brigadier.

  Pudgy and dour of expression, Foulkes seemed to many senior officers the army’s most unapproachable general. Brigadier Harry Foster considered him “mean and narrow,” possessed of a “hard-shelled Baptist
mind” and a “sneering supercilious attitude toward anyone his own rank or below.” At the same time, he had a reputation for “groveling to everybody” senior. Foulkes was a consummate politician, instinctively striking the right balance of servility and self-confidence required to impress. This nature, however, garnered lukewarm personnel assessments, such as one concluding: “Sound and competent … Should make a good commander though possibly not a very sympathetic one.”2

  It was this somewhat enigmatic figure who spent from 1130 to 1300 extensively reviewing with Brigadier Sherwood Lett 4th Brigade’s one-battalion attack on Louvigny, a village west of the Orne and south of Caen. The brigadier worried that the supporting artillery plan might prove inadequate if the attack was delayed till after dark—a circumstance ever more probable as the day trailed away. Currently, artillery would be limited to what FOOs with the regiment directed against observed targets. This would hardly work at night. Foulkes assured him all would be well. Lett asked for two hours’ notice to allow for moving the Royal Regiment of Canada from its current front line position to the start line.

  Foulkes left for the 43rd Division meeting. Returning to his headquarters in the mid-afternoon, he issued Lett’s movement order. The Royals’ acting commander, Major Jack Anderson, got it to the start line at about 1800 hours. Three companies were to attack in line. ‘D’ Company would lead, followed by ‘A’ Company and then ‘B’ Company. ‘C’ Company stationed itself on high ground to the west to provide a firm base. The line of advance was across a wheat field and then through an orchard surrounded by a high stone wall. Having gained Louvigny, ‘A’ and ‘B’ Companies would clear the village while ‘D’ Company passed to their left to seize a château and then a small wood. All 2nd Division’s artillery was available for support. Both Toronto Scottish (MG) Regiment’s heavy-machine-gun and mortar companies were on hand. A Fort Garry Horse tank squadron stood beside ‘C’ Company.3

  Once again 2nd Division’s inexperience became quickly apparent. Start-line reconnaissance had been limited to studying maps and aerial photographs. None had shown the few houses backed by a twelve-foot wall that blocked their line of advance. It took twenty minutes for the three infantry companies to climb over this obstruction, so the advance got going late at 1920 hours. As ‘A’ Company moved into the tall wheat close behind ‘D’ Company, it came under inaccurate fire, but Major Tom Whitley was unable to situate its source. Nobody was hit, and the company soon reached the orchard wall. Having blown holes in it with a PIAT, ‘D’ Company had already passed through and gained the orchard. But when Whitley looked through one of the holes, he saw that the lead company was stalled in the trees just beyond—leaving insufficient room to crowd his men in as well. Intending to get Major Jim Fairhead moving, Whitley ducked through the gap, discovered the other company commander dead on the ground, and learned that the company’s only other officer, Lieutenant Eric James Chellew, had also been killed. All the sergeants were casualties as well. Most had been hit during the advance to the orchard, while the remainder fell to the mortar and artillery fire zeroing in with increasing accuracy and intensity.

  Whitley realized that he either got ‘D’ Company moving or the Royals would take a pasting. Suddenly, Sergeant Oliver Clifford Tryon, from the battalion’s 3-inch mortar section, was at Whitley’s shoulder. He had gone forward with ‘D’ Company to act as a fire controller for the mortars. Tryon assured Whitley he could get the company organized. Whitley slipped back through the hole and instructed his platoon commanders to bring ‘A’ Company forward by themselves. He was going to stay with ‘D’ Company to keep it “pressing on.”

  Despite Whitley and Tryon’s best efforts, by the time they got ‘D’ Company to the other side of the orchard, it was clear the men left were not up to seizing the château and woods. So he told Tryon to just establish a blocking position on the southwest edge of the château grounds. The other two companies would clear the village.4

  Tryon decided that even this task would expose ‘D’ Company to machine-gun and mortar fire coming from Louvigny and the château, so he led the men in a bold charge across the open ground to the cover of the woods. The move was executed so rapidly the Germans had no time to react. Tryon’s actions garnered a Military Medal.5

  From the outset, the No. 18 wireless sets the companies carried had ceased functioning. “Worse than useless,” Whitley raged, “for people wasted time tinkering with them.” Unable to call in supporting fire or even contact ‘B’ Company’s Captain D.S. Beatty, who was just 150 yards distant, Whitley sent a runner to fetch him. As Whitley and Beatty were agreeing to jointly attack the village, the latter was hit and wounded. Beatty was evacuated, and a lieutenant took over ‘B’ Company.

  Meanwhile, Lieutenant Len Gage of ‘A’ Company’s No. 8 Platoon had decided on his “own hook” to advance from near the château to the village. By the time Whitley led the rest of the force into Louvigny, Gage’s men had gained the village centre.

  Civilians warned that a strong German force held the other half of the village. Whitley also knew that the western half, although cleared by Gage’s men, had not been thoroughly searched. Having never been trained in night fighting in built-up areas, Whitley withdrew to the orchard. The Royals would return at daybreak.6

  It was midnight, and the attacking companies had been out of contact with battalion headquarters for almost five hours. Major Anderson had tried re-establishing contact with his companies by sending Sergeant James Corbett forward in a carrier, but en route it hit a mine, killing the driver and wounding Corbett. Despite severe pain and concussion, Corbett staggered into Louvigny, failed to find any Royals, and finally returned to headquarters with a German prisoner. Corbett received a Military Medal for his valour.7

  Equally in the dark about what was happening, Brigadier Lett and his intelligence officer, Lieutenant William Lloyd Paterson, drove to Anderson’s headquarters. With little learned, they were heading back when a mortar round struck their jeep. Paterson was killed, and Lett, who had been wounded at Dieppe, suffered a debilitating wound. Brigade command passed temporarily to Lieutenant Colonel Charles “Bud” Drury of 4th Field Regiment.

  ALTHOUGH FAILING TO take any objectives, the Royal Regiment’s gains sufficiently secured 5th Brigade’s right flank to permit its advance on Fleury-sur-Orne from Vaucelles. While 3rd Division held much of the suburb, the southern portion remained contested. This meant 5th Brigade would have to win the ground from which it would then advance. The Black Watch was to cross first at 2215 hours. Because of double daylight savings time, it would still be light. As nobody knew where 3rd Division’s battalions were, no artillery was permitted.

  ‘B’ Company, with thirty-six carrier platoon personnel acting as paddlers, formed the assault force.8 The crossing would be made in eighteen-man assault boats and on a Kapok bridge. This was to be constructed by linking together shoulder-width steel sections, which rested on floats. Infantry would then cross in single file.

  ‘D’ Company was to provide covering fire. ‘B’ Company’s start line lay eight hundred yards from the water, open ground between. Major Alan Stevenson’s men, burdened by the bulky canvas assault boats and Kapok bridging gear, were halfway to the river when the major realized ‘D’ Company had failed to arrive. Fifty yards from the river, machine guns started firing from the high ground on the other bank. Stevenson fell wounded, and Lieutenant Robert Eliot Austin was mortally injured.

  All boats, save one, were shredded. Corporal John James Watson’s party launched the surviving boat and paddled across under intense fire. As they clambered ashore, all were either killed or mortally wounded. Watson died of his wounds on July 22.9 ‘B’ Company went to ground, waiting for nightfall.

  Once it was dark, Lieutenant T.K. Dorrance swam out and assembled the Kapok bridge almost single-handedly. After ‘B’ Company crossed in line without incident, the rest of the battalion followed. The Germans having withdrawn, the Black Watch quickly advanced to the southern edge of Vaucelles
. The river crossing attempt had cost them thirty-six casualties.10

  During the night, the Black Watch linked up with the Regina Rifles in Vaucelles, allowing engineers to begin bridging the river. By the early hours of July 19, two bridges were under way. The 29th Field Company worked on a 150-foot standalone Bailey bridge, while 31st Field Company incorporated the undamaged pier of a blown bridge into its construction. One fifty-foot span extended from the west bank to the pier, and then an eighty-foot section gained the opposite shore.

  At 0902 hours, 29th Field Company’s bridge opened. Then at 1130 hours, the more robust 31st Field Company span, capable of carrying heavy vehicles, was ready. While the bridging had been under way, 30th Field Company—using hand tools and explosives—carved a route through rubble to the southern edge of Vaucelles. “To clear it entailed cutting away the remains of a demolished railway bridge, burrowing under another dropped at one end, and dealing with three miles of craters, traps, barricades and rubble.” The first traffic over the stronger bridge consisted of bulldozers that improved the road and rendered it capable of being used by vehicles at 1330 hours.11

  By this time, the Royals had easily taken Louvigny and the château at dawn. Fifty-five prisoners were rounded up. Despite the easy end, Louvigny cost the Royals 111 casualties, 34 fatal.12

  Major Tom Whitley believed most of the losses resulted from the incident in the orchard when ‘D’ Company had frozen after losing its leadership. It seemed men were unable to tell whether small-arms fire was “close to them or not. They must know their crack and thump,” he said later, “so that they can tell whether the fire is falling fifty yards or five feet away from their heads. They now come into battle assuming that every round they hear passes just above the napes of their necks. They believe their enemies are crack shots who will bring them certain death. Hence they are paralyzed or go to ground.”13