Breakout from Juno Read online

  Four hundred yards from May, Campbell had to halt to avoid running into the falling shells. One gun kept firing short, each shell causing casualties. The FOO with Campbell was unable to get this gun to quit shooting.25 Campbell’s wireless contact with battalion was erratic, and he had lost sight of ‘B’ Company. He was considering the company’s next move when a sniper bullet deflected off his revolver and lodged in a thigh muscle. In the confused next moments, a wireless signal went out with the false claim that ‘A’ Company was on its objective inside May.26

  ‘B’ Company had fallen well behind ‘A’ Company because Major Cyril Nixon had paused to send a platoon to clear the orchard on the southern edge of Saint-Martin. Gaining the sunken road that ran from Saint-Martin to Verrières, the company was raked by Germans in the hedges on either side. To escape this fire, Nixon led a platoon through the southern hedge. As Nixon stumbled out the other side, he was killed. Two men who tried to reach Nixon joined him in death.

  The company broke up. Company Sergeant Major Ralph Wilson and one group went to ground, while Lieutenant John David Moffat led his platoon towards May. Dawn was breaking as Moffat’s men entered the village and met three Tiger tanks and two self-propelled guns. The German armour started shooting. Moffat prudently pulled out to the east of the mine and dug in.27

  At every turn the Calgaries came under fire from areas previously cleared or considered undefended. They had no idea the Germans were infiltrating back and forth via the mine shafts. ‘C’ Company, under Major Sherwin Robinson, tried following the road that ran from Saint-Martin past the mine to May. The area was built up, and Monty’s Moonlight cast the buildings into shadow while illuminating the road. The men were thus silhouetted but unable to see into the surrounding gloom.28 When machine guns started firing from the flanks and front, Robinson led a hasty retreat to the cover of some buildings on the edge of Saint-André.

  The Calgary reserve company, still missing commander Captain Del Harrison and his headquarters section, had tried following ‘B’ Company to the east of the mine. Coming under fire from the orchard, Lieutenant Sandy Pierce—commanding in Harrison’s absence—took a platoon over to silence the position once and for all. “I was trying to keep people organized and keep them moving,” he said. “If you ever stop in that situation you’re dead.” Pierce was shot through both legs. Lieutenant E.A. Michon took over. Turning away from the orchard, he led the men south, only to be fired upon by three tanks. After evading this fire, Michon was totally disoriented. Encountering a road, Michon hoped it led to May. After following it for awhile, Michon spotted buildings to the north and led his men to them. As ‘D’ Company dug in, Michon was certain he had reached May. In reality, the company was on the southern edge of Saint-André.

  Amid this confusion, Lieutenant Colonel Donald MacLauchlan had taken the erroneous ‘A’ Company report at face value and ordered his signals platoon to run a telephone line through to May as a preparatory step in establishing the battalion tactical headquarters there. Sergeant Alvin H. Palfenier and two men drove towards May in a jeep with a reel of telephone line winding out in their wake. Soon they entered the northern outskirts of May. It was a small village that trailed along either side of the N162 highway—some red-tile-roofed farmhouses, a small commercial district, a little church, and thick stone walls surrounding courtyards. Leaving the signallers to guard the line, Palfenier drove to the church and stopped in the centre of the road with the engine running. If there were snipers about, that should draw their attention. Nothing happened. So Palfenier drove back to battalion headquarters and reported May “absolutely devoid” of Germans.

  Not long after Palfenier’s departure, the battalion’s support company commander, Captain Mark Tennant, walked into May to determine likely positions for the anti-tank guns. Unarmed, Tennant strolled through the village without seeing either a German or Calgary soldier. Tennant left May with no idea that many of the buildings concealed Germans who had silently watched him pass through.

  Back at Saint-André, ‘D’ Company’s Lieutenant E.A. Michon had become entangled in an awkward confrontation with a major from the Black Watch. Major Philip Griffin had appeared and urged him to take ‘D’ Company and clear the mine. Realizing that if the mine was where Griffin indicated, then he was in the wrong village, Michon agreed to the attempt. But he no sooner led his men forward then they were driven back by machine-gun fire from a spot where several knocked-out German tanks stood near the mine. Griffin then told Michon he wanted him to go to the Black Watch’s start line and find out whether the Calgaries held itor not. Michon, tiring of being ordered about by someone outside his command, said he needed to talk with his battalion commander first. When he did so, Michon was ordered to “try and get forward to the objective.”29

  Michon was about to set off when Captain Del Harrison wandered in and resumed command. As he led the men towards May, they were met by withering mortar and shellfire. Heavy casualties ensued. Michon was among the wounded. Harrison gave up. That was it for the Calgary effort against May.30 The Black Watch not only had no secure start line, the ground between Saint-André and May remained in dispute.

  [ 15 ]

  A Stone Wall

  IN THE EARLY morning of July 25, despite Operation Spring’s brutal first phase setbacks, Lieutenant General Guy Simonds ordered the second phase begun. Signals reaching II Canadian Corps headquarters were fragmentary, leaving Simonds confused. He understood that the North Nova Scotia Highlanders, supported by the Fort Garry Horse, were renewing efforts to take Tilly-la-Campagne. The Royal Hamilton Light Infantry had secured Verrières, while the Calgary Highlanders had either won May-sur-Orne or were in strength nearby. From his headquarters in Vaucelles, Operation Spring still seemed viable.

  The only accurate information in all that was that the Rileys held Verrières. No effort was under way against Tilly.1 After moving the Highland Light Infantry to a start line at Hubert-Folie, Brigadier Ben Cunningham ordered no further action.2 The battalion’s regimental historian observed that the mauling suffered by the North Nova Scotia Highlanders “showed that we were up against a heavily defended enemy line and resulted in the cancellation of the [battalion’s] part in the operation.”3 Cunningham’s refusal of a direct order from Major General Rod Keller abruptly closed 3rd Division’s part in Operation Spring.

  At 2nd Division, Major General Charles Foulkes faced no dissent from brigadiers. With Verrières in hand, developments on 4th Brigade’s front looked promising. The brigade also had a new brigadier as of that morning—J.E. “Eddy” Ganong. Previously 4th Armoured Division’s general staff officer, Ganong had only just arrived in France. When he took over from Lieutenant Colonel Fred Clift, the South Saskatchewan Regiment commander returned to the urgent task of rebuilding his shattered battalion.4

  While the situation on 4th Brigade’s front appeared in hand, Foulkes decided 5th Brigade needed a personal prod. He walked into Brigadier Bill Megill’s headquarters and growled that Simonds “was furious at the lack of progress by Megill’s brigade and had sent him forward to get it moving.”5 Despite the fact that the Calgary Highlanders had neither won May-sur-Orne nor the Black Watch’s start line, Megill started phase two rolling.

  The Black Watch had met problems the moment they withdrew from their position astride the Saint-André–Hubert-Folie road in front of Ifs. At 0330 hours, as they began marching towards Saint-André, the battalion was sporadically fired on by mortars and machine guns stationed on Verrières Ridge. A dozen men were wounded.

  Their destination was next to the church on the southern edge of Saint-Martin-de-Fontenay, where they were to be joined by the 1st Hussars’ ‘B’ Squadron. The tanks were to shield the battalion’s left flank. According to the plan, the Black Watch would march from the church to their start line adjacent to a quarry alongside a road running northeastward out of May-sur-Orne. They would then go straight from May to Fontenay-le-Marmion at 0530 hours. A complex artillery fire plan with fixed timings was in place
.6

  Believing Saint-Martin secure, Lieutenant Colonel Stuart Cantlie got a rude awakening when the battalion came under intense fire from the village. Moving “in the old snake formation” with ‘D’ Company at the head, Cantlie ordered Captain John Kemp to clear Saint-Martin. Kemp quickly reported that ‘D’ Company was meeting stiff resistance. Cantlie decided he had no option but to commit all his rifle companies to winning the village.7

  “Along the east edge of the town there were high walls and hedges surrounding orchards,” the carrier platoon’s Captain E. R. “Ronnie” Bennett said later. “Next to these were three or four knocked-out Panther tanks. The Huns had weapon slits outside the walls and hedges and dug-outs and scurry-holes inside. The posts were almost all MG posts and had to be taken out one at a time. This had to be done when it was pitch black and … the artificial moonlight … did not improve close-in fighting to any degree. We were fighting in the shadows against a good many Huns—probably about a company in strength … Everyone realized that we were losing valuable time.”8

  In the midst of the fight, Cantlie, ‘B’ Company’s Major Eric Motzfeldt, and Captain Kemp huddled by a hedge outside Saint-Martin. Suddenly, a machine gun ripped off a long burst. Cantlie fell dying, Motzfeldt—the battalion’s senior company commander—was severely wounded. It was about 0500 hours.

  Command devolved to ‘A’ Company’s Major Philip Griffin. The twenty-six-year-old had been a McGill University Macdonald College post-graduate student when the war broke out. Like most 2nd Division company commanders, he had seen little combat and had no battalion command experience.

  However, Griffin stepped quickly into his new role. Captain Bennett described him later as “a brilliant officer of absolutely outstanding courage and ability. His takeover in this strained and ticklish situation was superb.”9 The battalion was still a mile from May-sur-Orne with the attack time fast approaching. Griffin convened an O Group next to the Saint-Martin church.10

  He was relieved to learn that ‘B’ Squadron was deployed in a nearby orchard on the southeast edge of Saint-André. The 1st Hussars had lost one of fifteen Shermans to an anti-tank mine and had arrived ninety minutes late. Major Walter Harris had expected the Black Watch to have already gone into their attack so was pleased to see they were still at Saint-Martin. It was worrisome, though, that the Calgaries reportedly did not control May-sur-Orne.11

  Griffin told the assembled officers the attack could not proceed at dawn, which meant the already started artillery program was wasted. He and the battalion’s FOO, 5th Field Regiment’s Captain G.D. Powis, needed to develop a new fire plan. Griffin also wanted to find out precisely how much of Saint-André the Cameron Highlanders controlled and whether the Calgaries actually held May and his start line.

  “There was no uncertainty whatever in his actions,” Bennett observed. “He foresaw only a delay, which would at the outside be two hours, while he re-arranged timings and obtained essential information. The plan for the attack would be the same as … previously planned.” In the meantime, he ordered the rifle companies to the edge of Saint-André and next to a road running east to Verrières. This would expose them less to fire from the ridge. “So complete was his control and so well trained the battalion that this was done at once and in incredibly good order.” In the fighting for Saint-Martin, only ten to fifteen men had been hit, so Bennett considered the Black Watch in good shape.12 The artillery program was set for 0930 hours, concentrated on the same targets as before.

  During this delay, Griffin was incessantly peppered with messages from Brigadier Megill. “Push on now,” Megill signalled at 0647 hours, “speed essential.” At 0715 hours, just before Griffin held a second O Group in Saint-André, Megill ordered the Black Watch “to go ahead.”13

  Megill was reacting to events on Verrières Ridge. At 0800, 4th Brigade intended to advance the Royal Regiment of Canada through to Rocquancourt. The “prospect of the thrust forward over and down the farther slope of Verrières Ridge … appeared bright,” one army observer noted. But the Royals “would be imperiled if swift action was not taken to secure the flanks. Here may be found the real reason for the peremptory orders which reached the Black Watch to press on to Fontenay-le-Marmion.”14

  But Griffin was unable to do so immediately. He had already set the attack for 0930 hours and needed the intervening time to determine what was happening at May-sur-Orne. Major Harris of ‘B’ Squadron, suspecting the Calgaries had failed to secure the start line, had independently sent a tank troop to investigate. Harris was unaware that Griffin had also sent a patrol towards May.15

  EQUALLY PRESSURED BY Brigadier Ganong, who was responding to Simonds snapping at everyone’s heels, the Royals’ Lieutenant Colonel John “Jock” Anderson made two quick decisions at 0800 hours. Having waited on the Black Watch, his artillery support program had come and gone. Anderson decided against arranging another. Instead, the 4th Field Regiment FOO would just direct fire on targets as they arose. Second, instead of passing through Verrières according to plan, the Royals would bypass it on the left flank to avoid getting entangled in the fighting still under way there.

  Anderson advanced the Royals with ‘C’ Company on the right, ‘B’ Company the left, and the other two companies following. As the companies passed Verrières, the battalion’s mortar platoon raced to a gravel pit next to the Caen-Falaise highway on the left. They were just deploying the mortars when some SS panzer grenadiers attacked their position. A short, sharp engagement ensued with the platoon firing Bren guns and mortars at close range, until the Germans were driven off.16

  ‘C’ Squadron of the 1st Hussars was also left of the Royals with nineteen tanks. Approaching the crest of Verrières Ridge, its second-in-command, Captain Brandy Conron, spotted eight Panthers. “Recognizing the rounded turret lids, he laid a fire plan whereby each troop engaged specific tanks. Then he opened up the barrage with his own tank knocking out and brewing a Panther in the centre. In just a few seconds all … the enemy tanks were ‘kaput’ and most of them blazing merrily.”17

  How vulnerable Shermans were to being hit by the Panther’s long 75-millimetre gun was evidenced when the single Hussar tank struck “burst into flames … The hatch flew open, emitting clouds of black smoke, and those of the crew who could do so threw themselves out. One man came out backwards, catching his knees on the edge of the hatch, and hung there for a moment, blazing like a torch, before he fell to the ground on his head. The burning trooper actually set the wheat field afire, and the stretcher-bearers, who rushed forward, had to put out these flames as well as those that covered the body of the man. Soon there were burning tanks and vehicles throughout the entire area of advance.”18

  Once the Hussars crossed the ridgeline, the balance tipped against them. A mine crippled Lieutenant Roy Kenny’s Sherman. Then a Ferdinand tank destroyer opened fire. The Ferdinand was a modified Tiger with a heavily up-armoured, boxy turret mounting an 88-millimetre gun. Lieutenant Valdi Bjarnason already knew his troop was in trouble before this monster appeared. “There was no cover, and the Germans had the advantage of the higher ground and they could manoeuvre behind the crest. It was one hell of a fight, and the fire from the tank guns on both sides was absolutely ferocious. I remember firing at the Ferdinand … and seeing the armour-piercing rounds just bounce off, but I did get two … Panthers, and I saw them both burn. One of the most awful moments was when one of our own airplanes came in and knocked out one of our Shermans.”19

  The Ferdinand smashed three tanks in Lieutenant Bruce Caw’s troop, including that commanded by Sergeant “Doc” Doherty. He and Trooper George Hamilton died.20

  ‘C’ Squadron’s commander, Major D’Arcy Marks, led the surviving tanks into a field surrounded by a hedge that screened it from the Ferdinand and Panthers left of the Hussars. Marks had just jumped out of his tank to look through the hedge when several self-propelled guns and tanks opened fire from the opposite flank. Captain Brandy Conron started shouting for everyone to reverse off th
e ridge crest, but before any tanks moved, an armour-piercing round punched through Marks’s tank and killed Trooper John Monteith and Sergeant Bill Easton. Trooper Hector Lamont and Corporal Fred Baker also died as seven Shermans were knocked out in a matter of minutes.

  Just five tanks escaped from the crest to the protective northern slope. Conron’s tank had been holed three times by armour-piercing rounds. Then a mine ripped off half a track. It lurched to safety and became a regimental showpiece for a few days—“one of the most badly battered Shermans ever to disgorge a crew alive.” The squadron had lost fourteen tanks and suffered twenty-seven casualties. By 1100 hours, it was out of action.21

  The Royals had crossed the crest of Verrières Ridge at the same time as the Hussars and started descending the long, gentle slope towards Rocquancourt—about a mile distant. The sky was clear. Across the wide horizon, Typhoons swooped down from a circling cab rank to rocket or dive-bomb German tanks and positions.

  As the Royals came off the ridgeline, they were “struck by a hurricane of fire” from dug-in tanks and self-propelled guns.22 Mortars and machine guns ripped into the badly exposed infantry.23 In the wide-open field, there was nowhere to hide.

  Realizing it was suicide to continue, ‘B’ Company’s Major J.F. Law ordered his men to dig in along the crest about two hundred yards south of Verrières. Major K.G. Singleton’s ‘C’ Company pressed on a few hundred yards farther under “murderous enemy fire … until [it was] almost annihilated.” Suddenly, SS panzer grenadiers burst out of the grain, and those of ‘C’ Company not already killed or wounded were taken prisoner, Singleton among them. Only eighteen escaped.