by Ken Ford
At that first farmhouse Hasler and Sparks received a black beret and a cloth cap. The poor farmer could spare nothing else. Later that day two other houses were visited but with no success; the inhabitants could not close the door on the fugitive Englishmen fast enough. Finally at a remote farmhouse they got lucky, very lucky indeed. A woman answered their knock and listened to their request. She then told them to wait and disappeared back inside. Eventually she returned carrying two pairs of trousers and a jacket. Both were old and threadbare, but at least they were civilian clothes. The woman even provided them with a sack to carry their belongings. They could not thank her enough for this brave act.
Hasler and Sparks retired to a wood to effect a change in their status from Royal Marines to French peasants. Off came their uniform trousers and camouflaged anoraks with their badges of rank, to be replaced with rustic attire. Their weapons were discarded and buried along with their service clothing. Sparks wore the jacket, with Hasler having just his blue pullover to keep out the cold. Their gloves, thick socks and balaclavas they put into the sack. They could now pass for itinerant peasants of whom few people took notice.
Their journey continued with another two or three calls at isolated houses. They managed to beg a second sack and a rough coat to complete their outfits. With renewed confidence they no longer used byways and tracks, but ventured along the highways. They were not yet ready for the main roads, but kept progress to side roads that linked together smaller villages, none of whose inhabitants seemed to note their passing as being anything other than normal. It did mean that their route to Ruffec was not direct, but with the aid of their compass they could keep their heading roughly north-east.
As each day progressed the journey became harder. The rations they had brought were enough to last them only a few days and by the end of the third day on the road the supply was almost gone. The cold December weather was also taking its toll, for the intermittent rain that had plagued their march from the start had left them wet to the skin. Nights were still being spent in the open with little cover. On that day, 14 December, Cpl Laver and Marine Mills were picked up by the French police in the village of La Garde, just 12 miles away from Hasler and Sparks, and handed over to the Germans. Of the ten men who left HMS Tuna just seven days previously, now only the major and his corporal still remained at liberty.
With their food virtually gone and their physical condition deteriorating, the two marines realized that they would now have to ask for food and shelter each day from the locals. Not surprisingly this was difficult to find, but there were acts of kindness shown to them. During the day there was the gift of some bread and chicken and that night a more pleasant welcome from a Communist woodcutter. The man was at first very aggressive towards the fugitives, driven no doubt by fear, but once he had been convinced that they were indeed British soldiers the whole wealth of his sparse hospitality was offered to them. They were given a feast of a meal and a soft bed on which to rest. The man was a fierce patriot and the night was enlivened by the woodcutter’s tirade of hatred aimed at the Germans. He pleaded with Hasler to have the RAF drop arms so that he might kill Germans. He also requested that the BBC broadcast a message to him when they got back to England showing that they were safe. The next morning there was time for a large breakfast and a complete wash and shave. A much refreshed Hasler and Sparks set out towards Ruffec that day with renewed vigour and with food in their sack.
Escape route taken by Hasler and Sparks.
As the escape continued the two men became more confident. The more people they saw the more they felt that they blended in. At the small town of St Même-les-Carrières they walked straight into a party of Germans who took not the slightest notice of them. To the Germans they looked just like any other Frenchman. During the day they ate the food given to them by the woodcutter and that night they found shelter in a hut by the side of a railway. According to their map they were 23 miles from Ruffec.
The next day they walked 15 miles through non-stop rain. Towards evening they knew that they would have to beg for food and perhaps find shelter. In the village of Beaunac they had little success for they were turned away from house after house until just before dark. A friendly farmer finally gave them some bread and allowed them to sleep in his barn. Their rest did not last long, for the farmer soon roused them from their sleep and told them they must go. Some villagers, alarmed by their presence, had informed the police. In some haste they once more set off into the pouring rain towards their goal. Two hours along the road they found an isolated haystack and, after making a substantial hole in its base, they crawled inside and collapse into a deep sleep.
The next morning they awoke tired and hungry. It was just nine miles to Ruffec and Hasler was anxious to get there as quickly as possible. Once more they steeled themselves to tackle the driving rain. Spirits were low and both men were apprehensive about making a connection with the French Resistance. They had no place set aside for the rendezvous, nor did they have any names of whom to make contact with; they knew only that someone in the town would be looking out for them. All they could do was to plod on and hope that this day would bring some respite from their predicament and assistance from people with anti-German sentiments who were friendly to the British.
Hasler and Sparks approached Ruffec with some expectations of help. If they had known the true situation they might well have been even more concerned than they were, for the local Resistance had no idea that they were coming. The escape organization that they had hoped to be in contact with in Ruffec was run by an Englishwoman, Mary Lindell. Unfortunately she was then in hospital after having been hit by a car. No radio message had got though to her about the imminent arrival of escapees from Operation Frankton.
Bill Sparks (right) behind the plaque on the cottage at Napres where he and Maj Hasler sheltered during their trek from the River Gironde to Ruffec. The memorial acknowledges the help that the woodcutter and his family gave to the two fugitives and was unveiled in 2002. (Royal Marines Museum Collection)
Mary Lindell was a truly remarkable woman. She had served during World War I as a nurse with the British and later the French Red Cross, and had received decorations for gallantry from both the French and Russians. She later married a French nobleman, Count de Milleville. At the start of World War II Mary Lindell lived in Paris and, after the Nazi occupation of northern France, began organizing the escape of groups of vulnerable people across the borders into the unoccupied zone. She was caught, interrogated and imprisoned by the Gestapo but eventually managed to escape to England. There she was recruited by MI9 and returned to France where, with the aid of her two sons Maurice and Oky, set up an escape route for downed British airmen with contacts at the Hôtel de France in Ruffec. She had been given the codename ‘Marie-Claire’ and her organization became the Marie-Claire Line.
In 2002 Bill Sparks once again sits in the woodcutter’s cottage where he and Hasler spent a night during their escape. The tiny cottage of La Maison de Clodomir is one of the places commemorated on the ‘Souvenir Frankton’ walk from the River Gironde to Ruffec that was set up by the French to honour the men who took part in the raid. (Royal Marines Museum Collection)
Maj Hasler and Cpl Sparks arrived in Ruffec during the morning of 18 December, at the end of their 100-mile trek from the banks of the River Gironde. The two men walked into the town and were soon confronted with the question of what to do next. They were wet through to the skin, extremely tired and very hungry. Of course, they did not expect a welcoming committee, but they were hoping that someone would quickly spot them for what they were – two out-of-place ‘deadbeats’ – and approach them. They walked down the main street from west to east, stopping to look intently and slowly in every shop window, at every notice board, at every friendly face and at everything of interest they could find. There was no contact from anybody, so they turned around and retraced their steps in the same manner from east to west; still nothing.
By this time hunger had go
t the better of the two men and Hasler agreed with Sparks that they should take the risk of entering a café for something to eat. They chose a small bistro, the Toque Blanche café; it looked as though it was frequented by working men, so their rough clothing might not be conspicuous. It was lunchtime and the café had a number of customers. Choosing a table in the corner away from the others the major ordered soup and wine from the proprietor, Madame Mandinaud. They ate their meal as slowly as possible, hoping that the other diners would leave so that Hasler could approach the owner without raising any interest from the customers. When they had finished the other people showed no signs of leaving. Hasler ordered more of the same for them both and they lingered once again for some time over their sparse meal. The two men gradually became conscious of the fact that they might soon be asked to leave and so Hasler called for the bill.
Madame Mandinaud did not write out a bill, but told Hasler directly of the amount. The major handed her a 500-franc note with a small pencilled message from him wrapped inside explaining they were British soldiers and needed help. When she got to the till she read the note and went back to ask the pair to remain at the table. After the café had emptied, Madame Mandinaud led them up to a guest room and asked them to stay there while she went for help. By sheer good fortune they had stumbled on someone who had sympathy with their cause. A short while later she returned with three men, one of whom was her brother René. The other two were Jean Mariaud, a principal organizer with the local Resistance, and Monsieur Paillet, a retired English teacher. At first the men were suspicious of the marines, fearing a German trap, but after some questioning the Frenchmen eventually believed Hasler’s story and said they would help. Paillet had asked Sparks a question and his reply convinced him that Sparks was English: ‘He is a Cockney’, Paillet reportedly remarked. ‘No German could replicate that accent.’ The marines had at last made contact with the Resistance.
Mary Lindell, Comtesse de Milleville, organizer of the ‘Marie Claire’ escape route through France into Spain. She and her son helped to get Hasler and Sparks from the rendezvous with the French Resistance in Ruffec to her organization in Lyons for onward passage to Gibraltar. (Royal Marines Museum Collection)
The next day Mariaud and his brother-in-law took the two marines in a baker’s van to the farm of Armand Dubreuille, where they remained, waiting for contact with the now disjointed Marie-Claire escape network. Finally, after a long and tedious stay of three weeks, they were collected and absorbed into the organization. From here on they became parcels to be handed from contact to contact in a long and nerve-wracking round of clandestine movements across France. There were extended periods of waiting in a number of safe houses as the two Englishmen were handed on down the escape chain.
Contact was made with Marie-Claire’s son Maurice in January. A few weeks later they were taken to Lyons to meet with Mary Lindell herself. Through the leader of the Marie-Claire network Hasler was able to get a coded message back to COHQ via Switzerland, outlining the success of their mission and giving as much information as possible on the fates of other members of the group. From Lyons the two men were taken by rail to Marseilles and then to Perpignan. After a short wait a truck arrived to take them to the foothills of the Pyrenees. Here they were handed over to two Basque mountaineers who became their guides for the arduous trek over the mountains into Spain and then on to Barcelona where they made contact with the British consulate. The British vice-consul then arranged for onward transmission to Gibraltar via Madrid. Once inside the safety of the British colony Hasler was returned to England with the highest priority for debriefing. Sparks was to follow later at a more leisurely pace by sea. By early April 1943, the last surviving Cockleshell Heroes were back in England.
Details of the attack made by Maj Hasler and Cpl Sparks in Catfish on the ships along the quay at Bordeaux. This diagram was drawn by Maj Hasler and was included in his post-raid report, which is now housed at the National Archives in Kew, London. (Crown Copyright from the National Archives)
2 Short rope lines attached to each end of the canoe, used for mooring, towing, handling etc.
ANALYSIS
At 0700 hours on 12 December the still morning air along the quays at Bordeaux was shattered by an underwater explosion. Great plumes of water rose vertically from the side of hatch No. 5 on the Alabama tied up along Bassens South at Bordeaux. A hole measuring almost one and a half metres by one metre by German calculations had been blown on the ship’s port side and water began to pour in. Three minutes later another explosion near hatch No. 1 appeared to be even larger than the first, for a splinter from the blast tore a hole in the ship’s starboard side opposite. Damage parties immediately set to work trying to save the ship while the Germans tried to discover the cause of the explosions. Initial thoughts were that the damage was done by floating mines, most likely dropped by the RAF, but when a third explosion ripped into the ship at 0800 hours, it was clear that this was not the case.
At 0830 hours there was another underwater explosion, this time on the ship adjacent to the Alabama, the Tannenfels. This was soon followed by an explosion on the Dresden, upstream on the quayside at Bordeaux. Throughout the morning there were more explosions on the three ships and at 0955 hours the Portland was rocked by a blast. At 1030 hours, a fifth ship, the Speerbrecher, an inshore minelayer, was drenched with spray when an explosion occurred on its seaward side, although no damage was done to the vessel. This was most likely from a limpet mine that had dropped off the ship’s side and exploded harmlessly on the river bed.
During that morning a total of 13 explosions took place along the river between 0700 hours and 1305 hours. It was clear to the German naval commander that the blasts were the work of a military raid that was most likely linked with the two British marines he had executed in the early hours of the previous morning at his headquarters in the Château du Dehez. How he must have rued the decision, made by an authority much higher than him, to have them shot in such haste, for with their deaths there was no further possibility of extracting more information about the attack.
Post-war picture of Hasler and Sparks taken at the Château Magnol at Blanquefort outside Bordeaux. They are visiting the site of the execution of Sgt Wallace and Marine Ewart, an event that was commemorated by the plaque seen on the wall behind them. (Royal Marines Museum Collection)
A German report captured at the end of the war listed the damage done to the ships in Bordeaux. Water penetrated the Alabama through hatches 4 and 5. The same was true for Tannenfels through hatches 2 and 3, which created a list of 24 degrees. Countermeasures were undertaken to successfully prevent the ship from capsizing. In the Dresden, holds 4, 5, 6 and 7 filled with water and the stern of the ship sank to the bottom. Leaks were sealed by 2330 hours but it took until 14 December for the holds to be emptied. Little water penetrated the Portland and the hole was soon provisionally sealed. All the ships were empty at the time of the explosions. Further work was undertaken by divers and it was possible to seal the Dresden and the Tannenfels while they were partially in a sinking condition. The repairs allowed them to be floated at the next high tide and they remained afloat. The overall assessment was that the damage was reported to be slight.
Over the next few days the realization of just how far the defences along the Gironde and Garonne had been penetrated became clear. British forces had managed to move 60 miles up the river through a number of German positions to strike at a fully manned seaport without interception. There was also concern that the raiders were still at large, as the size of the British commando group was not known. Even more galling to the Germans was the fact that saboteurs had been captured days before the attack but this had not resulted in raised security levels in the port.
New security measures were immediately devised to try to intercept the fleeing raiders and to prevent any further such attacks. The new measures were far-reaching and tied up a huge amount of manpower. The most important of these were as follows: ships in the harbour were to
be illuminated from shore as from 12 December; patrols and pickets guarding shore installations were to be strengthened and patrols in the harbour area increased; a boat was to patrol the whole of the harbour, including the Bassens, at night; and the Pauillac floating dock, the gate of the Gironde wharf and the stone bridge at Bordeaux were to be protected by river booms. At the river estuary, the area was to be swept by searchlights and fired on when any unknown radar contact was made. Later even more security measures were taken, including placing two sentries on each merchant ship and, if an explosion occurred on the side of a ship, the sides of all ships in the vicinity were to be searched with poles to detect any further charges. The Gironde estuary was to be guarded by two further patrol vessels, three searchlight batteries and by land patrols on either side of the river.
Back in England little news of the raid had been received. There had been an official announcement made by German High Command just after Wallace and Ewart were captured during the first night, which stated: ‘On 8 December a small British sabotage squad was engaged at the mouth of the Gironde River and finished off in combat.’ This news of course lowered spirits at COHQ and at Southsea and it looked for a while that the operation had been a failure. Nothing further was known until the brief message from Hasler via Marie-Claire’s network was received in February.
