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  Dieppe

  Book 4 in the

  Combined Operations Series

  By

  Griff Hosker

  Published by Sword Books Ltd 2015

  Copyright © Griff Hosker First Edition

  The author has asserted their moral right under the Copyright, Designs, and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.

  All Rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, copied, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written consent of the copyright holder, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

  Cover by Design for Writers

  Dedicated to my little sister, Barb, and in memory of my dad who served in Combined Operations from 1941-1945

  Part 1

  Dieppe

  Chapter 1

  Falmouth June 1942

  The dog bite I had suffered on the reconnaissance patrol to Dieppe did not take long to heal. That was more than fortunate for we had to prepare for Operation Rutter, the attack on Dieppe. This would be a sterner test of the defences of Occupied Europe than St. Nazaire had been. That had been a hit and run attack. This would be an attempt to capture a port. The captured German E-Boat we used would need to be repaired and adapted for, once again, we would be going in before the main Canadian attack. Our unit was to be used as a scalpel to prepare the way for the major surgery that would be the two Canadian Infantry Brigades, the 4th and the 6th along with the Calgary Tanks. The British element would be commandos from Number 2, Number 3 and Royal Marine A Commando. The British section was well prepared but for the Canadians it would be their first combat. We just did not know how they would cope with it.

  Now, a week after our return from Dieppe and with our intelligence assessed and evaluated, we awaited orders. Sergeant Major Reg Dean had managed to acquire the staff car which the officers of Number 4 Commando had left at our base. No one questioned the formidable Sergeant Major's right to use the vehicle. How he got petrol I have no idea but he was a most resourceful Commando. He drove me down to Carrick Roads where the 'Lucky Lady' was moored. He nodded to my hand as we negotiated the twisting and narrow roads."Healing nicely, sir."

  "It is Sarn't Major. With luck it will be ready when we embark."

  "That is a week or so off isn't it, sir?"

  "First week in July. I have to pop over to the Isle of Wight and meet with Major Foster before then. Apparently there is some sort of problem with the operation and they need us to explain a few things to them."

  "Will you be taking the E-Boat, sir?"

  I shook my head, "The less she is seen the better. She is our ace in the hole. No we shall be going by train."

  "You and the pirate eh sir?"

  I laughed, "I am not certain that Lieutenant Jorgenson would appreciate that particular title, Sarn't Major."

  "But you have to admit he does look like one. And he plays a good Jerry too, sir."

  "Oh he does that. I can speak German but he sounds German, you know what I mean?" We had turned the last bend in the road and we saw the anchorage. The E-Boat bobbed up and down beneath the camouflage net. Her crew were still making good the damage we had suffered when we had been extracted from the beach. Sergeant 'Polly' Poulson was working with my section on the jetty. They were making charges. As Commandos we had to improvise. We had discovered that preparation gave us more opportunities to do so. Whatever we were asked to do in this operation we knew we would have to buy ourselves time to escape. Charges and booby traps did that. We were very good at making booby traps.

  I climbed out. Sergeant Major Dean put it into reverse, "What time shall I pick you up, sir?"

  I shook my head, "Don't bother, Reg. I will go back with the lads. I need the exercise!"

  We prided ourselves on our fitness and doubling back with the section would help us all. When you ran together you got into each other's rhythm. Somehow, and I didn't know how, that translated to a better understanding when you were in action. We had to be as one when we worked behind enemy lines.

  We were informal and no one leapt to their feet to salute me as I wandered up. Sergeant Poulson nodded as he helped Private Groves with the charge. "Young Groves here is becoming quiet good at making charges, sir."

  "Good!"

  I ducked under the netting and found Lieutenant Alan Jorgenson, the captain of the boat.

  "Good timing Tom, we are all ship shape and Bristol fashion!"

  It always seemed odd to hear such phrases coming from someone who looked like a German. With a monocle in his eye he would look every inch the caricature German the press used to deride the enemy. "Good, we have to pop down to the Isle of Wight tomorrow. I will get the travel warrants from the Quartermaster later today."

  "Shame we can't take the 'Lady'. It would be faster and more comfortable."

  I doubted the comfort side of it but it would be quicker. "Every time we take her out we risk a German spy or an aeroplane seeing her and giving the game away. Besides I like trains."

  He shrugged, he did not agree, "Anyway come and see the improvements we have made." He led me along the side. He pointed to the torpedo tube. "We would never have used it as a torpedo tube. It just added weight to the bows. We have cut away half of it. With one of your chaps or one of mine lying in it we could use it as a machine gun position. The half of the tube we have left will give a metal shield and we still look like a German ship.

  I knelt down to inspect the work. The edge had been smoothed. It curved over at the top and would protect the machine gunner. "You did the same on the other side?"

  "Yes; we now have two forward facing guns."

  "Excellent. I will see if I can get a couple of Bren guns."

  "German ones would be better. The sound of a German machine gun would confuse them eh?"

  "We will need to capture them. Until we do, we will use Bren guns."

  We went to the area between the tubes. Here were where the rubber dinghies were stored. I saw that they had fitted an Oerlikon. He patted it affectionately, "Jerry uses these too so it won't seem odd here. Damned good against aircraft and ships. The Killick has been training the men. This give us a bit more bite at the sharp end!"

  There were other changes which had been made. We had learned through experience what needed to be done to make it a home for almost forty men. Below decks they had rigged up more hammocks to make the sleeping arrangements more comfortable.

  "With the metal we saved on the torpedo tubes and the chief's modifications to the engines we reckon we can get five more knots out of her. If we meet one of her sisters we can out run them."

  "That is good news. Well I will leave you lads to your tasks and I will see what my boys have been up to."

  They were just finishing up making their charges. Sergeant Poulson stood, "The Killick says we can store these in the 'Lady Luck's' magazine, sir. It will save us lugging them back to the camp."

  "Excellent. I am afraid, however, that we will need to get to the camp tonight anyway. We need a couple of machine guns for the forward tubes. Get everything squared away and we will double time up there."

  Had this been almost any other unit in the British Army there would have been complaints and moans. These, however, were Commandos. They just got on with it and viewed it as extra and therefore worthwhile training. We had done the run so many times that no one took the slightest notices as we donned Bergens and ran up to the headland above the town. The camp was now a transit camp. There was a skeleton staff who were responsible for specialist training. The cliffs were perfect for rock
work and the old abandoned tin mine could be used for the testing of explosives. My first sergeant, Daddy Grant, was Quarter Master and Sergeant Major Dean took charge of all else.

  When we arrived, slightly out of breath, I saw that the camp was almost deserted. For ordinary soldiers being a little out of breath was nothing but I deemed to be acceptable. We had had a few days off and were out of the habit of running. I would remedy that. I took the section to the QM stores. Daddy Grant, tapped his pipe out as we entered. "Now then, sir, what we can we do for you today?"

  "We are after a couple of Brens."

  Daddy frowned, "But why, sir? They use .303 ammo and you use .45."

  "I know but we need a couple of light machine guns which can be fitted into the torpedo tube of an E-Boat."

  He stroked his chin, "Well if you aren't bothered about carrying two types of ammo I have a couple of machine guns which might suit. Hang on a minute. They are out the back." He disappeared into the rabbit warren that was his stores.

  His two clerks eyed us suspiciously as though we were going to steal everything that wasn't nailed down. I kept the smile from my face for, if we chose, we could have stolen everything in the stores without them even knowing. If any of my lads chose to go down the criminal route once the war was over they would be very successful.

  I heard the Quartermaster shout, "Hey Charlie, Jack get out here."

  "But Quartermaster, that will leave the stores empty!"

  I heard an exasperated snort and then a shout, "Get your arses out here! Lieutenant Harsker can have anything he likes! Unlike you shower these lads are proper soldiers!" They hurried out to help my former sergeant when I had been just a corporal.

  The two clerks struggled in with two packing cases. Daddy followed them, "Sorry about that sir. These two dozy buggers are new to the base. They will learn."

  "And you will, no doubt, teach them."

  "That I will, sir." He took a crowbar and lifted the lid. There was straw within. I was intrigued. Like a magician producing a rabbit from a hat he pulled out what looked like a brand new German MG 42. He put a hand up to theatrically flourish.

  "Where on earth did you get this?"

  "Remember when the 'Cossack' caught the 'Altmark'? The one with the prisoners from the 'Graf Spee'?" I nodded. It had been good publicity for the Navy. "They found these and about six others in the hold. It isn't the latest MG 42. It is the prototype. I think I was told it was the MG39/41. It works the same as the newer one. It takes the same ammo as your Luger and it is belt fed."

  "That is fantastic but just a couple of questions. How did you get hold of one and what about ammo?"

  "When I went to a depot in Pompey I saw them there. The Quartermaster didn't know what to do with them and he had a bit of a storage problem. I said I would take a couple off his hands."

  "A couple?"

  He laughed, "Well four to be exact and he had a few cases of ammo. That is the real reason I got them. I remembered as how you liked the Luger. I was thinking of the ammo more than anything else."

  "Thanks Daddy. It is perfect." I picked it up. It still had the grease on it. This had never been fired. "Much as I want to husband the ammunition I think we will take one to the range and try it out. We might as well find out the problems here rather than at sea. Keep your eye on that one until we come back. Lowe and Groves, pick it up. Hewitt, fetch the ammo."

  When we reached the range we were all like children with a new Christmas toy. We crowded around as Polly worked out how to feed the ammunition through. It was a gun you fired lying down. That too would suit the new role we had in mind. Polly stood and gestured, "There you go, sir, do you want to do the honours?"

  "Much as I would love to I suspect that one of you will be firing it. You can have the first burst, Sergeant."

  I could see that he was desperate to try. He nestled the stock into his shoulder and then squeezed the trigger. I have never heard such a rapid rate of fire. It sounded like piece of cloth being torn.

  Poulson took his hand off the trigger. "Bloody hell, sir! I thought the Thompson had a good rate of fire but this one..."

  George Lowe said, "Aye, Sarge, but you have fired almost two hundred rounds." He held up the belt to show him the fifty or so bullets that were left.

  Scouse Fletcher had been looking through the ranging telescope at the target. "And another thing Sarge. The last few bullets were high. The barrel must have a tendency to rise when you are firing."

  That decided me. "Well we won't waste any more of our ammo. Not until we manage to get some more, at least. We just have to remember to use it like the Tommy guns. Short bursts."

  He nodded and stroked the gun, almost affectionately, "Well at least it has a good range. That target is a thousand yards away. I reckon it could fire another thousand and still be accurate. With short bursts."

  "Right, let's take these back to the digs. When the Sergeant Major comes for me in the morning we will take them down in the car. Put it back in its packing case."

  Fortunately there were no markings on the wood. It could have been anything we were carrying. With the two guns and two cases of ammo and my overnight bag we were laden down as we headed back to the bed and breakfast we used as our lodgings. It would not do to tell Mrs Bailey, our landlady, what lay within the boxes. She would only upset herself. What she didn't know wouldn't upset her.

  When I told Reg Dean what we carried he chuckled, "I am glad you didn't tell Mrs Bailey. She would not have been happy!"

  "Are you two still courting, Reg?"

  He laughed, "We are a bit old to be courting sir. Walking out is more what we do. We are comfortable with each other. It is just company. I have been married to the army for eighteen years and she has been married to the boarding house. We are just finding out about each other. There's lots of time and we are, well, both a bit shy."

  I heard a warmth in his voice I had not heard before. "Well if she is half as happy as you, Reg, then it is no bad thing."

  He nodded, sagely.

  Alan Jorgenson was delighted with the guns. His engineer rigged the bipod so that it would not move. He bolted it to the bottom of the tube. We had spare barrels for the guns; they had been in the packing cases and the new emplacement meant we could easily change them.

  "Sergeant you take charge of the men. We should be back tomorrow."

  "Right, sir!"

  "Are you ready, Alan?"

  "I'd like to see the guns fitted and tested properly but yes. Our masters call and like good hounds we respond! I'll sling my bag in the back eh?"

  Reg took us to Truro to catch the mainline and we had a carriage largely to ourselves. We were able to chat in a way we normally could not. It was a long journey but there was a buffet car. I enjoyed the train journey. It was late afternoon when we reached the huge camp which was filled with Canadian troops. Major Foster was acting as an adviser to Lord Lovat and he met us at the Headquarters building. As the Major walked us to our quarters for the night he said, "Keen as mustard these Canadians but very green."

  "We were too, sir. Remember the Loyal Lancashires?"

  He laughed and said to Alan, "That was where we first met. I was a gung ho captain and young Harsker here was a private with more guts than was good for him. It seems a million years and a lifetime ago. You are right, Tom, we were naive and we were green. The difference is the Germans have also improved since we fought them. They have decent tanks now with guns that are better than ours."

  As if to make the point a couple of tanks drove by making us step off the road. "They are new sir. What kind are they?"

  "Churchills. Hopefully they will stand up to the German armour a little better than the ones we had in France."

  Alan asked, "I can see why Tom is here to answer all these questions; he landed and reconnoitred but all we did was drop them off. We have no idea what the landing zone will be like."

  "No, Alan, you know the waters. You were handpicked to be the captain of, what is it you lads call her? 'Luc
ky Lady' because of your experience in the Channel. The destroyers will lie offshore but the landing craft and the launches will have to close in with the shore. You know those waters better than any."

  "It will be like St. Nazaire all over again, sir."

  "Yes Tom and that is the danger. The Germans have learned lessons. The RAF and Coastal Command tell us that they have beefed up their defences. It will not be as easy and we have more men going in this time." We stopped at a hut. "You two are in here, first room on the right. Just dump your bags and then come with me. We have lots of people to meet and all of them want to pick your brains. Tonight is informal; you will just chat. Tomorrow will be harder. It will be like Whitehall all over again."

  After we had dropped our bags Alan and I were taken around like a pair of candidates for Parliament. The Canadians quizzed us about everything. Many of the questions we could not answer and I, for one, felt foolish. By the time it was time for dinner I was exhausted.

  Major Foster came back to our quarters with us. His room was opposite ours. "You did well chaps."

  "What about those questions we couldn't answer?"

  He smiled, "That was the purpose of this informal chat. We now know what further intelligence we need."

  I groaned, "You mean we go back?"

  "Exactly, old son. We need to reassure our Canadian friends."

  "And when does the operation begin?"

  "The troops will embark on the second of July and it starts five days later."

  "That doesn't give us long then does it, sir?"

  "No. To be frank I have made a bit of a cock up. We really needed you to leave within the next day or so to be able to return with the information. We have to have their questions answered before they embark."

  "But what information, sir? I thought we completed our last mission. What didn't we do?"

  "Nothing Tom. You did all that we asked of you." He sighed, "We need you to get to the beaches close to the port. You need to reconnoitre the places where the Canadians will actually land."