The Cockleshell Raid--Bordeaux 1942

by Ken Ford

  5 These instructions do not apply to the treatment of those soldiers who are taken prisoner or surrender during normal battles (large-scale attacks, large-scale landings and air-landing operations). Neither do these instructions apply to those enemy soldiers who fall into are hands after sea battles, or those who, after air battles, endeavour to save their lives by parachute.

  6 I shall make all commanders and officers answerable by court martial for omitting to carry out this order, either if they have neglected their duty in giving these instructions to their units, or if they act contrary to these instructions.

  Signed Adolf HITLER

  Hasler, however, soon had them on their feet and hauling the cockles across the sand above the high water mark into some low scrub that lined the river bank. Camouflage nets were placed over the canoes to conceal them just as daylight was breaking. The party had come to rest alongside the Pointe aux Oiseaux and just behind this headland was a small river that led up to the fishing village of St Vivien. The River Gironde here was extremely wide and this stretch of its western side was lined by a high man-made embankment, which served as a dyke. This helped to conceal the hiding place of the canoes from traffic moving parallel to the shore along the quiet road that followed the length of the dyke.

  A few hours earlier Wallace and Ewart had also come ashore, exhausted from their ordeal in the water. There was no possibility of continuing with the operation, for their capsized cockle Coalfish was being tumbled around in the high surf spewing its contents along the shoreline. They had nothing with them but the clothes on their backs and it seemed clear to them that it would be impossible to make their way to Spain without their carefully packed escape gear. For them the war was over and they decided to give themselves up and become prisoners of war.

  The two men had come ashore near the Pointe de Grave in the sector guarded by German 708 Division. The wide sandy coastline was devoid of civilians but widely occupied by scattered enemy emplacements. It was not long before they came across a Luftwaffe anti-aircraft battery. The marines were taken prisoner by the flak personnel at 0545 hours and they explained that they were shipwrecked English sailors, but their painted faces, camouflaged anoraks and Combined Operations badges showed them to be something quite different. The prisoners were taken to the Luftwaffe sick bay near the Pointe de Grave lighthouse and the local commander of Flak Detachment 595 passed on news of the arrests to Kapitän zur See Max Gebauner in Royan, who, at around 0800 hours, forwarded it to Naval Command Bordeaux. The Luftwaffe declined responsibility for the shipwrecked men and suggested they be transferred to the naval prisoner’s camp at Fallingbostel. In the meantime the naval Commander-in- Chief West, Admiral Bachmann, was also informed.

  Later that day Admiral Bachmann sent a signal to Naval War Staff in Paris outlining events thus far and made it clear that they were no ordinary sailors. They were in his opinion in France to carry out a sabotage operation. The signal explained that in the course of the day many items were found on the shore: ‘Explosive charges with adhesive magnets, chart material of the Gironde estuary, aerial photographs of Bordeaux harbour installations, camouflage material and provisions for several days. Surgeon of the ferry flak states that the prisoners’ faces were painted green and they had arrived soaked through. Footprints discovered led one to conclude that a landing was made off the area of the unoccupied Verdon battery. A collapsible boat was observed but salvage was not possible. Investigation as to whether further men had landed has been put in motion.’ As commandos the two prisoners should have been subject to Hitler’s Secret Order of 18 October 1942, meaning immediate delivery to Sicherheitsdienst (SD), the intelligence service of the SS, for execution. But Admiral Bachmann was inclined to interrogate them first to find out more about their mission.

  During the morning Bachmann ordered the immediate questioning of Wallace and Ewart by the SD in Bordeaux, but the SS there refused as this was expressly forbidden. Hitler had specifically ordered that ‘saboteurs must be annihilated to the last man immediately they are caught’. Any officer who defied this order was liable to face a court martial. Bachmann was adamant that they should first be questioned about their mission and so hadWallace and Ewart transferred across the Gironde to the old naval fort at Royan under naval supervision. He wanted to know what they had landed from and whether any other troops had also landed, if so, where, how many and what was their mission? To cover himself with Naval High Command and ultimately Hitler himself, in his signal he added, ‘on conclusion of interrogation, if previous findings are confirmed, I have ordered immediate shooting on account of attempted sabotage.’ Whatever happened, the fate of Wallace and Ewart was now sealed.

  On the west bank of the Gironde, a few miles away from all this activity, Hasler and his three surviving men were trying to rest. While one kept watch, the others slept, but not for long as their peace was disturbed by the sound of a number of fishing boats passing close by as they emerged from the small river that ran up to the village of St Vivien. Several of the smaller boats then turned to port and beached themselves close by where the marines were hiding. At the same time a number of women appeared, walking along the shore towards the fishing boats, joining them on the beach and preparing breakfast on campfires.

  It was not long before the villagers spotted the canoes and their occupants just a few yards away. Monsieur Yves Ardouin and his family, together with members of the Chaussat family, had come to the beach to work on the oyster beds bordering the river. The presence of the strange men with blackened faces would certainly have unnerved the civilians. Hasler decided to make himself known to them and ask for their cooperation.

  The major asked his men to cover him with their weapons while he walked over and parleyed with the fishermen. He was met by Yves Ardouin. Hasler explained that he and his men were English soldiers and were their friends. He asked that no one be told of their presence. Ardouin was at first suspicious, fearing a German trap, but gradually realized that it was probably safest for him and his family to mind their own business and not to become involved.

  Hasler returned to his hide and the fishermen to their meal. Both parties watched each other surreptitiously, not knowing whether or not the other would prove to be mendacious. The fishermen finished their food and began working on the oyster beds along with the women. When their work was done, they returned to their boats and slipped away on the incoming tide, but before they left Yves Ardouin came across to Hasler with a gift of bread. As the major thanked the Frenchman he was told that there was a group of Germans building some sort of military installation downstream nearby and that Hasler and his men should be on their guard.

  Their wait that day was a long one, for the evening’s flood tide was not due until 2330 hours. ‘As this was low water springs it was necessary to man-handle the boats over nearly ¾ mile of sandy mud before we could launch them,’ Hasler wrote later. ‘The method employed was to drag the boats by their painters2, fully loaded, which was only possible owing to the flat bottom and strong construction of the Cockle Mk II.’

  Getting the boats clear of the outlying sand banks over which a ground swell was running in the form of small breaking waves was a precarious manoeuvre. The canoes had to be kept head-on into the foaming rollers while the men scrambled clear of the clinging mud and into the craft. Once out into the main stream, paddling with long deliberate strokes, they soon began to get their minds back on to their mission. The regular movement of the dipping blades in and out of the icy water soon warmed them up. Although the night was pitch black, navigation was easy as the port-hand buoys marking the edge of the shipping channel showed a dim flashing blue light. The weather was calm without any cloud and visibility was good with a haze over both shores.

  Picture of Yves Ardouin and his wife taken in the 1960s. Ardouin was the local fisherman who approached Hasler and his party with the offer of bread while the marines were sheltering in their hide at Pointe aux Oiseaux on the first day of the operation. (Royal Marines Museum Co
llection)

  That night they switched their course over to the eastern side of the river, paddling through the night, keeping approximately a mile offshore. After each hour’s labour the canoes would come together for a short rest. It was arduous work. Beneath their tunics the men sweated profusely, but on the outside their faces and hands were bitterly cold, covered in frozen spray, with splashes of salt water freezing on their cockpit covers. As daylight approached Hasler began looking for a site in which to lie up for the day. He succeeded in locating a perfect place at his first attempt, almost immediately opposite the famous wine-growing village of St Estéphe. The canoes were hauled ashore into the thick hedging, which gave them good cover. A small ‘dixie’ stove was used to make hot water for a mug of tea but food was limited to socalled ‘compo’ rations – waxed cartons containing a complete but unpalatable meal of biscuits, cheese, Spam, sweets, cigarettes, chewing gum and tea.

  The day in the second hide was uneventful until the time came to move off at 1845 hours. Maj Hasler later explained what happened: ‘In order to catch as much of the tide as possible, we started somewhat earlier than was prudent. We were soon seen silhouetted against the western sky as we launched the boats by a Frenchman from the nearby farm that came to investigate. We repeated our story of the day before and he seemed quite convinced by it, and was rather upset when we declined to go up to his house for a drink.’

  This night’s progress up the river was complicated by the state of the tides. During the hours of darkness there were only three hours of flood tide at the beginning of the night. Then the tide changed against Hasler’s party and they had to hide up during six hours of ebb tide. When the tide flow turned once more, there was more three more hours of the flood tide to help them upriver. Hasler had decided to make for an island in mid-river for his lying-up place, which from aerial photographs appeared to be uninhabited.

  When they arrived later that evening, they found the island to be virtually impenetrable, for its mud banks were almost vertical and were topped by 4–5ft-high reeds. After many attempts and a considerable waste of time, at 2045 hours the two cockles were eventually dragged out of the water and hidden in the dense undergrowth. Most of the men then managed to catch some sleep before Hasler roused them again at 0200 hours to continue with the mission, although this was a little early for they had to wait over 40 minutes for the ebb to stop.

  The river was now becoming much narrower with many more islands in midstream. The width of the available channel became increasingly restricted and the canoes were forced to progress closer to land. The sound of their paddles seemed to echo over the still water and the men became uncomfortably conscious of the noise of their passage, for many of these islands were inhabited. After two hours the marines entered a stretch of the river that forced them to pass between a long thin island called Île Verte and the western bank of the Gironde (confusingly, the island had two other names: it was called the Île du Nord in the centre and Île Cazeau at the southern end). The proximity of the island to the mainland forced the men to make themselves as inconspicuous as possible by using single paddles and keeping close to the shore of the island, which was covered in tall reeds. Four more hours of paddling on the surging tide brought the two canoes to the southern end of the island where they came ashore to lie up for the third day.

  Their first attempt to land on the Île Cazeau put them close to a German flak installation, forcing them to try again. They were eventually compelled to take the last possible position right on the southern tip of the island just as it became light. There was little cover to be had and they spent the day in the middle of a marshy field among some tall grass with their boats covered in netting. It was not the best of locations, but it was all that was available. During the daylight hours that followed they were surrounded by a herd of cows and at one point a man with his dog came within 100 yards of their hide but did not discover them.

  Hasler’s original intention was to make the attack on the ships in Bordeaux that night, 10/11 December, but delays from the outset had put his timetable behind schedule. His team was now still some distance short of where they wanted to be. If they paddled their way upriver to the port and attacked that night as originally planned, they would not have enough hours of darkness to withdraw back down the river to a suitable position from which to start the escape across France. Hasler decided that he would have to move closer to Bordeaux and seek another hide closer to the port from which to launch the attack on the following night, 11/12 December.

  There was, however, one major problem with this change in the timetable. Two of the original canoes might still be on the river closing on the objective. Sgt Wallace and Marine Ewart had been the first to disappear in Coalfish when they were swept away in the first tide race and it was possible that they might well have continued with the operation to attack on the night of 10/11 December. Hasler, of course, was not aware that they had already been picked up by the enemy. Lt Mackinnon and Marine Conway in Cuttlefish could also still be making their way to Bordeaux with their orders to attack that night. Hasler’s change of plan could backfire on him, for if either of the other two cockles pressed home their attack as originally planned, the river would be alive with the enemy scouring the area day and night to discover the raiders before they could make their escape.

  Indeed, Mackinnon and Conway were still at large and quite close to Hasler and his party on the same long island. Since becoming separated they had piloted Cuttlefish upriver and were hiding on the island’s eastern shore just a few miles north of the major and his party. When Hasler and his men left their hide that night at 1845 hours to make for a location closer to Bordeaux from which to launch the attack the following night, Mackinnon and Conway also set out from the Île Cazeau. The major took his party up the centre of the river for a few miles before switching towards the western bank and single paddles in order to proceed with more stealth, while Mackinnon steered his canoe down the eastern side of the island towards the confluence of the Dordogne and Garonne, the position at which the two rivers joined together to become the Gironde.

  At around 2100 hours just off this point, Bec d’Ambes, Mackinnon’s cockle ran against some underwater obstacle that tore a long gash in the canvas sides. The boat quickly began to take in water and started sinking. There was just enough time to grab the escape kit before the two men had to take to the icy water. As Conway struggled furiously to get out of the craft the pocket on his trouser leg became caught in the canoe. For a while the two marines became separated as they struggled to stay afloat in the darkness while remaining as quiet as possible. With considerable effort they eventually made it back to the island. The next day, by some stroke of remarkably good fortune, they were taken off the island by French fishermen and deposited on the mainland.

  Distances Covered by Canoes Each Night

  Night Nautical Miles

  7/8 December 23

  8/9 December 22

  9/10 December 15

  10/11 December 9

  11/12 December 22

  Total Distance Paddled By Canoe 91

  Château Magnol, once the Château Dehez, was the German Naval Headquarters Bordeaux during the war. It was to this headquarters that Sgt Wallace and Marine Ewart were brought for their final interrogation and execution. The château is situated just outside the village of Blanquefort, a few miles from the city. It now houses the headquarters of a wine company and is not accessible to the public.

  In the meantime, oblivious to the drama that was being played out a few miles away byMackinnon and Conway, Hasler continued up the river in weather that was perfect for his clandestine mission – cloudy sky with occasional rain and a light southerly breeze. By 2300 hours he and his party had almost reached Bordeaux. Just short of the main port they passed underneath a small jetty and began looking for a place to lie up for the remainder of the night. They soon found a small gap in the reeds and slipped the two canoes inside. With the tide beginning to ebb, the boats dried out and
the men made themselves comfortable for the night. They had settled down in a well-concealed hide, invisible to passing waterborne traffic.

  Across the river two large merchant vessels, the Alabama and the Tannenfels, were tied up along the quayside of the Bassens South area of the docks. Hasler and his men had at last come face to face with the first of the blockade busters.

  Whilst Hasler and his men bedded down for the night opposite Bassens South, just three miles away to the west two of their comrades were having to pay the price for their bravery in volunteering for such a dangerous mission. Sgt Wallace and Marine Ewart had been brought to the Headquarters of the Naval Officer in Charge Bordeaux at the Château du Dehez (now the Château Magnol) in Blanquefort. They had spent an unhappy few days as prisoners of first the German Navy and then the SD at the German Interrogation Section in Bordeaux and were now finally back with the German navy. At 0030 hours on 11 December the two men were taken out of the château into the grounds at the rear and placed before a naval firing squad made up of one officer and 16 men. An officer of the SD watched as Wallace and Ewart were tied to posts and shot. He was later able to report that, as instructed, the saboteurs had been executed by direction of the Führer.

  The half-light of dawn confirmed that Hasler had indeed found a perfect hide the night before. The tall reeds allowed the men to spend the day standing up, a luxury not experienced before during daylight hours, owing to the cramped nature of their previous hiding places. Securely hidden by the high undergrowth, they watched ships and small craft moving along the open river. Overcast skies and a slight rain aided their concealment. To their rear they could hear the everyday sound of the voices of people going about their business and of traffic moving along the road that ran parallel to the river. They also had the opportunity of studying the two targets marked down to be attacked that night, but for the most part of the day the men slept, each taking his turn to keep watch.