Breakout from Juno Page 28
Once on their objectives, British and Canadian columns would both provide a firm base through which the two armoured divisions would begin the second phase in the early morning.23
TOTALIZE WAS NOW the key component in Montgomery’s plan to crush the Germans in Normandy. If successful, the operation would see First Canadian Army gain control of Falaise—closing the many roads running through that hub. Second British Army would meanwhile be forcing the Germans out of the bocage country west of the Orne River and up against the Canadians. Once these two armies joined hands—having eliminated any Germans caught between—they would advance towards the Seine River, while the Americans carried out their “long envelopment” to the east. When the Allies linked up at the Seine, they would trap the German armies in Normandy and eliminate them.24
Ultra’s discovery of Hitler’s planned thrust through Mortain to Avranches had enabled General Omar Bradley to set a trap intended to smash the Panzer Divisions. Just after midnight on August 7, the Germans attacked. None of their divisions gained even their first objectives. Although the American 30th Infantry Division was surrounded on Hill 317 east of Mortain, it stoutly repelled repeated counterattacks. With the dawn, fighter-bombers from 83 Group RAF and U.S. 9th Air Force swarmed the skies.25
In what became known as “the Day of the Typhoon,” the German armoured divisions were decimated in “three hours of uninterrupted hell.” Eighty-one tanks were destroyed and twenty-six abandoned by crews who fled rather than be incinerated in their metal coffins. Hundreds of vehicles, artillery pieces, anti-tank guns, and self-propelled assault guns were destroyed.26
Although the German offensive would sputter on for six days, it was effectively lost on August 7. Hitler refused to admit this, forcing its continuance.27 The decision was disastrous. With the German armoured divisions locked in a hopeless battle on a narrow front, General Patton’s U.S. Third Army ran virtually unimpeded to the southeast. The vital supply and tactical centre of Le Mans fell on the evening of August 8. “If only the Germans will go on attacking at Mortain for a few more days it seems that they might not (repeat not) be able to get away,” an excited Montgomery signalled London.28
It had been Ultra intelligence regarding the German offensive that led to Montgomery’s advancing Totalize’s timetable to the night of August 7–8. Having taken a pummelling during the day at Mortain and under great pressure almost everywhere else along their front, the Germans would suddenly see their east flank being smashed open by the battering ram of II Canadian Corps. The entire front might well collapse completely.
There appeared to be little standing in the way. Most of the front was held by a badly strung out 89th Infantry Division with elements of 272nd Infantry Division holding east of La Hogue to Frénouville. Behind the front, a much-reduced 12th SS Division formed the only effective reserve, and it had sent a battle group to join the fight against the British west of the Orne. But the Allies were unaware of the formidable nature of the force that Standartenführer Kurt Meyer had assembled at Bretteville-sur-Laize. Here were stationed thirty-nine Mark IVs of 2nd SS Panzer Battalion; eight operational Tigers from 101st Heavy Panzer Battalion; twenty-seven Panthers; a battalion of panzer grenadiers; corps and divisional escort companies; the division’s artillery regiment comprised of three battalions, a flak battalion, and elements of III Luftwaffe Flak Corps; and the 83rd Nebelwerfer Regiment. Meyer’s anti-tank capability was formidable. He had more than a hundred 88-millimetre and 75-millimetre guns and another hundred artillery pieces of varying calibres.
Meyer had not assembled this force in anticipation of fighting the Canadians. He was preparing to meet the British advance.29 But Meyer was also warily watching the Canadian front in recognition that he possessed the only reserve capable of intervening if an offensive developed there. “In the event of a renewed Allied attack, the eastern flank of the German front would inevitably cave in and open the way to the interior of France,” he wrote. Meyer was under no illusions that the 12th SS could stop such an offensive. He “foresaw the collapse of the German eastern flank and prepared [his men] for [their] last fight.”30
Recognizing that he would need as much notice as possible, Meyer posted SS liaison officers with the 89th Division. The moment one issued an alert, Meyer would roll eastward from Bretteville.31
“DURING THE MORNING, the marshalling and movement of our [armoured] column was practiced in a large field to the west of Louvigny. The column was formed up with four vehicles abreast on a [sixteen-yard] front. A squadron of tanks was in the lead followed by the two forward Rifle Coys who divided the frontage between them,” the Royal Regiment’s war diarist recorded on August 7. “In other words, each Rifle Coy moved with its vehicles two-abreast with another Rifle Coy moving in similar formation alongside. Our own supporting weapons and [anti-tank] guns were distributed through the column, but no soft vehicles were included. The column practiced movement in this formation, and also practiced … dispersal to an imaginary … objective where the troops jumped off the Priests [Kangaroos] and took up their positions. This rehearsal was completed quite satisfactorily, and the troops returned to the [battalion] area for lunch.”32
At 1700 hours, the Royals boarded the Kangaroos and an hour later joined the other 4th Brigade columns outside Ifs. Between each column was a fifty-yard gap. This great mustering was a spectacular sight. Sergeant C.W. Wilson, a 14th Hussars carrier section leader near the head of that regiment’s column, wrote: “When we arrived atour assembly area all that could be seen for miles around were great masses of tanks, equipment and men, all waiting for zero hour.”33
“From the windows of the château at Cormelles,” added 2nd Canadian Armoured Brigade’s war diarist, “it was possible to see the vast [formations] of armour and [armoured infantry] drawn up in the final assembly area in preparation for the night break-through. Despite the dust raised … no concentration of German arty [artillery] fire was brought down upon the densely concentrated [formations].”34 The Canadians alone were jammed into an area covering four square miles.35
Although there was an appearance of clockwork precision, 2nd Armoured Brigade staff officers fretted. When the 79th Armoured Division specialized units trickled in haphazardly and off schedule, their anxiety grew. Then an anti-tank battery appeared in the wrong place “just a few hours before the attack.” These late arrivals “seriously handicapped” training.36
By 2200 hours, the entire force was “ awaiting the signal to advance.” At 2230 hours—just as the first Bomber Command wave struck—Wyman ordered the gapping force forward. A few minutes later the assault columns rolled. “The weather was warm, dusty and somewhat cloudy but not cloudy enough to prevent the force from seeing the tracer shells fired by the bofors guns. The entire area was lighted somewhat by means of artificial moonlight and after [fifteen] minutes of progress the dust raised by the steel columns was such that it was hardly possible to see the [vehicle] ahead. [Vehicles] accordingly turned on tail lights which made following much easier. At 2340 hours brilliant flashes in the sky to right and left flanks ahead of us indicated that the [heavy] bombing programme was in progress. At 2359 [hours] the [column] had passed the start line,” 2nd Brigade’s war diarist recorded.37
A TOTAL OF 1,019 heavy bombers streamed across the French coast at 2300 hours. Canadian artillery marked the western targets with green flare shells, while the British indicated the eastern ones with red shells. The raid lasted forty minutes. To Simonds the explosions seemed “like the worst thunderstorm” ever seen. As the bombing ended and the 720 artillery pieces began firing at 2345 hours, Simonds realized events were now out of his hands. The columns were advancing. Phase one of Operation Totalize would succeed or fail on the merits of his plan. Appreciating that there would likely be many decisions required come morning, Simonds went to bed.
Bomber Command had hoped winds would clear the smoke and dust raised by the lead bombers so those at the rear could see the marking flares. But there was hardly a breeze, and the ma
ster bombers at the tail ordered their squadrons to turn about without dropping any bombs. In all, 642 bombers dropped 3,456 tons of high-explosive and fragmentation bombs.38 Even as the bombs were falling, Crerar signalled Harris at Bomber Command: “Timing and accuracy of tonight’s … heavy bombers nowin progress reported one hundred per cent. Greatly appreciate outstanding contribution your Command. We shall hope to continue and complete this battle as well as you have commenced it.”
Harris signalled back, “Thanks for message. Regret lack of wind and accumulating smoke made it unsafe to put down last third of tonnage on each objective but hope two thirds will do the trick. Don’t be shy of asking. Good luck.”39
Crerar’s report was mistaken. Although the bombing in the eastern zone largely fell on target, this was not the case to the west. Most bombs directed at May-sur-Orne exploded harmlessly in adjacent fields. Fontenay-le-Marmion suffered slight damage, while the majority of bombs obliterated the tactically irrelevant little hamlet of La Val about a half-mile westward.40
[ 19 ]
The Fullest Success
NO ONE WHO was present that night is likely to forget the eerie sight of the great rumbling columns pushing relentlessly into the darkness,” wrote the Royal Regiment’s historian. “Overhead antiaircraft tracers were being fired in lanes on either side of the lumbering vehicles; great red flares burned in the bombed villages on the flanks; green marker shells fell on the high ground at Point 122 to identify the divisional boundary, artificial moonlight gave a weird luminescence to the scene; and on all sides could be seen the innumerable pin-points of ineffective small arms fire from the bewildered enemy. Before long, as the Germans began spasmodically shelling and mortaring, burning tanks were blazing brightly throughout the area, and knocked-out vehicles were passed. The air was filled with clouds of dust churned up from the dry ground, and a low mist, thickened with smoke shells fired by the German guns, further reduced visibility.”1 “
Once past the start line, each column increased its speed to five miles per hour. Out front, gapping forces maintained a five-hundred-yard lead to give the engineers time to lay their tape and plant the illuminated guidance markers.2 It was “pitch black and the Flails were raising a terrific dust,” Sergeant C.W. Wilson of the 14th Hussars’ ‘B’ Squadron wrote. The reconnaissance regiment’s troops had swapped their armoured cars for half-tracks and would fight as infantry. “Every 150 yards, a green light was placed on the right of the line and a red light on the left … At midnight we were in the thick of it. The noise was deafening, artillery machine guns and vehicle motors combined into a crescendo of sound. A tank on our right went up in a burst of flame and then another to our front.”3
The tanks were from Fort Garry Horse’s ‘C’ Squadron, and their losses occurred as the column passed east of Rocquancourt and made for Point 122.4 Then one of the eighteen half-tracks was blocked by an anti-tank ditch. Backing up a short distance, the driver gunned the accelerator and jumped the vehicle across. Enemy fire soon knocked out five half-tracks, and the advance “bogged down.” Major Donald J. Scott, ‘B’ Squadron’s commander, “jumped out of his vehicle and [directed] the troops to dig-in. While doing so he was caught in a burst of machine-gun fire and … killed.”5
Lieutenant Colonel Bruce Alway thought his column almost on Point 122, but it was barely past Rocquancourt and just north of Lorguichon, a small mining village.6 Alway’s confusion was not unique—every column commander struggled to reconcile ground features and landmarks with those marked on maps. When the men started digging, their shovels and picks chunked into hard chalk. It took the sweat-soaked Hussars until 0600 hours to carve out slit trenches three feet deep.7
The wireless directional system proved of mixed worth. In the British sector the signals mostly failed, while the magnetic compasses in the tanks twirled around like tops due to disturbances caused by the bombing and shelling.8
Sherbrooke Fusiliers’ Captain Merritt Hayes Bateman was guiding the centre Royal Hamilton Light Infantry column. Wounded on June 7, Bateman had drawn this duty the day he returned from hospital in England. Despite his having had only three nights to familiarize himself with the system, the entire column now counted on his navigational skills. As the column crossed over Verrières Ridge and descended the southern slope, the wireless signal weakened and each dot or dash seemed to come later than the last. Yet Bateman thought the column still on course and nearing Rocquancourt after a three-and-a-half-mile advance.9 When the centre column drove straight into the village rather than skirting it to the west, Bateman realized he had drifted slightly off course.
The Rileys had actually enjoyed a remarkably smooth advance. Despite coming under small-arms fire upon crossing the ridge, they suffered no vehicle losses or casualties until two Kangaroos became stuck in bomb craters. The infantry aboard, however, crammed in with the passengers of other Kangaroos.
When the tanks and Kangaroos clattered onto the cobbled streets and lanes of Rocquancourt, the formation became scattered. They were also fired on by an 88-millimetre gun hidden on the southern outskirts. After a few inaccurate shots, however, the gun switched its attention to the Essex Scottish Regiment column passing to the west.10
As the Bren carrier bearing 4th Field Regiment’s Captain Len Harvey—the FOO attached to the Rileys—entered the village, its driver turned up a lane and lost touch with the column. Suddenly, both sides of the carrier were scraping against what Harvey thought were buildings. An out-put hand came to rest on cold steel instead of brick. In the faint light, Harvey realized he was “patting a German hash-mark cross on the side of a tank!” But its crew seemed unaware of the carrier’s presence as it slunk off “undetected into the swirling dust and smoke of the flashing, roaring night.”11
The 88-millimetre gun switching its attention to the Essex Scottish was just the latest woe to beset their advance. Smoke, dust, and thickening ground mist had caused the assault column to lose sight of the gapping force. Then ‘A’ Company, the leading infantry unit, lost touch with the tanks at the head of the assault column. Major Stewart Bull was unable to contact the tanks by wireless. Nor could Lieutenant Colonel Thomas Jones, and by 0130 hours the Essex had no wireless links to any other units in the column.12
Blundering forward by fits and starts, the column was subjected during each pause to increasingly accurate mortar and small-arms fire from the flanks. By the time the column reached Rocquancourt, it had split in two. Just before the village, ‘A’ company reconnected with the leading tanks, and this group passed to the west and made towards the objective of Caillouet. The following group drove into the 88-millimetre gun’s sights. Several half-tracks and tanks were knocked out. Attempting to escape its fire, other vehicles and tanks collided. One platoon jumped out of its half-tracks to attack the gun but was driven back by protective machine guns. Then Jones was wounded and went missing. The second-in-command, Major J.W. Burgess, attempted to restore order by dismounting the infantry, while the officers regrouped the vehicles west of the village. Not until 0327 hours could Burgess report to 4th Brigade headquarters that things were under control. Uncertain of his location, Burgess went into the village seeking signage. He found the South Saskatchewan Regiment instead and was informed they had just arrived and were clearing Rocquancourt without difficulty. They were also caring for Jones.13
Burgess now knew that his battalion was about three thousand yards west of its objective. Returning to the column, he counted fourteen half-tracks knocked out or missing. All the tanks, save one Flail, had disappeared. Two self-propelled anti-tank guns were destroyed.14 During his absence, ‘A’ Company had rejoined the column. During the separation, however, Major Bull had suffered a serious facial wound.15 Burgess decided to wait for daybreak in the hope that some tanks might be found before then.16
The Rileys, meanwhile, had earlier shaken out of Rocquancourt to continue towards their objective—a spur, identified as Point 46, that stood next to a large quarry. When scouts reported German tanks on the h
illtop, Lieutenant Colonel Graham Maclachlan—who had replaced Rocky Rockingham—decided against a night attack. Instead, he deployed the infantry in a network of abandoned German trenches two hundred yards north of the quarry and surrounded them with the tanks and other vehicles.17
On the main assault group’s left flank, the Royal Regiment had also become disoriented during the advance, with ‘B’ Company ending up tagging along behind the Rileys. Further confusion ensued after a shell killed ‘C’ Company’s Major Thomas John MacArthur.18 Passing to the east, rather than west of Rocquancourt, the Royals were by 0430 hours “concentrated in the low ground between the railway tracks and Point 122.” Hoping to beat the dawn, Lieutenant Colonel Jock Anderson ordered ‘A’ Company onto the summit with ‘D’ Company following. Mounted on their Kangaroos, the two companies drove through without incident. By 0600 hours the entire column, less ‘B’ Company, was firmly ensconced on Point 122.19
BEHIND THE MOBILE columns, 6th Infantry Brigade had advanced the traditional way—on foot.20 Lieutenant General Guy Simonds had confidently assured Brigadier Young that May-sur-Orne and Fontenay-le-Marmion should fall easily to a single battalion once they were “obliterated” by the bombers. Consequently, Simonds offered no tanks or artillery to support attacks on these villages. Nine Crocodile flame-throwers of British 141st Armoured Regiment would be available.21
On the brigade’s left flank, the Sasks had begun the mile-long descent on Rocquancourt as soon as the 14th Canadian Hussars column had passed them by.22 Due to the swirling smoke and dust, they advanced almost blindly. Private Charles “Chic” Goodman had joined the battalion after its near destruction during Operation Atlantic. Having lied about his age during enlistment, Goodman had just turned eighteen. He carried a rifle in ‘B’ Company and found the night attack eerie. The dust was choking. Sometimes artificial moonlight broke through and bathed the ground in a ghostly light. Tracer rounds from the Bofors flicked unexpectedly overhead. The heat was dreadful. And there was the smell. The putrid stench of the rotting flesh of dead soldiers, horses, and cows littering Verrières Ridge was almost overwhelming.23