Allies at Dieppe: 4 Commando and the US Rangers

277 Pages·2014·1.32 MB·English

by  Fowler

Allies at Dieppe
Allies at Dieppe: 4 Commando and the
US Rangers
Will Fowler
CONTENTS
Foreword
Introduction
Chapter 1: 1942
Chapter 2: Planning
Chapter 3: Training
Chapter 4: Departure
Chapter 5: Hostile Shores
Chapter 6: Landing
Chapter 7: Orange 2
Chapter 8: Assault
Chapter 9: Withdrawal
Chapter 10: Jubilee: Heroism and Disaster
Chapter 11: Homecoming
Chapter 12: Aftermath
Appendices
Appendix 1: No. 4 Commando casualties
Appendix 2: No. 4 Commando after Operation Cauldron
Appendix 3: Allied Weapons and Equipment
Appendix 4: German Weapons and Equipment
Appendix 5: Significant Aircraft in Operation Cauldron
Appendix 6: Significant Warships in Operation Cauldron
Appendix 7: Hitler’s Commando Order
Appendix 8: No. 4 Commando order of battle on Operation Cauldron
Appendix 9: Regiments and Corps represented in Operation Cauldron
Appendix 10: A.B. Austin’s pool report
Glossary
Bibliography
Endnotes
FOREWORD
“What’s the DS solution?”
In a British military training exercise the DS solution is the definitive answer
to a tactical problem. In a TEWT – Tactical Exercise Without Troops – after
students have walked the ground and have given presentations, discussed the
problem and offered their solutions, they often pose the question to the staff in
the spirit of curiosity or even as a challenge.
DS are the Directing Staff – officers senior in rank to the students, who with
a wealth of practical experience and theoretical knowledge plan and run the
exercise, and their decision – the DS solution – is final.
However, there is a higher authority than any DS – the reality of war.
When I first wrote about No. 4 Commando and Operation Cauldron over ten
years ago I realized that there were lessons that soldiers in the late 20th century
could learn from the planning and implementation of the raid.
The plan was flexible, simple, and in modern parlance had plenty of
redundancy like backup communications, extra demolition stores, and alternative
ways of achieving the aim – the destruction of the German coastal battery code-
named Hess. Every possible problem that could arise, such as casualties in the
chain of command, had been addressed, a solution proposed, and it had been
rehearsed in training. Attached troops like US Rangers and French Commandos
were integrated into the force and assigned roles in the operation that made use
of their strengths or knowledge.
Using the lessons of history as a teaching aid for the soldiers is not a new
approach to training. In the rather grand terminology of the Army, officers and
NCOs using this training technique do not take a battlefield tour – perhaps that
sounds rather too like a holiday – they take a “Staff Ride.”
On a Staff Ride students are given the facts as available to the planners and
asked to give their solution within the constraints of the weapons, vehicles, and
equipment in use at the time. What makes the lesson much more effective is that
it takes place on the ground where the original action was fought – the critical
ridgeline, bend in the road, or the marshy riverbank are all there literally at the
students’ feet.
Standing on a beach or at the edge of a wood, students make their estimate
and issue their orders. It is then that they learn what actually happened on the
day and how true the old military adage “No plan survives contact with the
enemy” was then and is today.
I have had the privilege of taking several military groups to Dieppe to study
Operation Cauldron and test their ideas and concepts against the reality of
history. Among them were the officers and NCOs of both 21 and 23 SAS, the
British Army’s volunteer Special Forces regiments that have seen recent action
in Iraq and Afghanistan.
Walking across the field that was once the site of No. 813 Battery – to the
men of No. 4 Commando, Hess battery – an officer from 23 SAS asked me how
old Lord Lovat was when, as a lieutenant colonel, he led No. 4 Commando in
Operation Cauldron.
“He was 31,” I replied.
There was a pause and the troop commander looked at me.
“That’s my age.”
It was a salutary reminder to us both that in World War II heavy
responsibility was often laid on some very young shoulders.
This is the story of some of these young men – their humor, comradeship,
and outstanding professionalism and courage.
On my first visit to the site of Operation Cauldron I was without question
blessed with two ideal companions. One was James Dunning, who as a 22-year-
old was the Troop Sergeant Major (TSM) of C Troop 4 Commando; the other
was Emyr Jones. There will be more about TSM Dunning in the book but it was
he who put men in touch with Emyr Jones.
Operation Cauldron and No. 4 Commando were a passion for Emyr. He had
corresponded with veterans, amassed documents and photographs, and by
painstaking and diligent research had compiled the nominal role with the parent
unit or formation of each man. Emyr was enormously generous with his time,
knowledge, and the material he had collected – it was therefore with great
sadness that late in 2011 I learned the news that this modest and scholarly man
had died.
Walking around the site of Hess battery, Emyr and Jimmy talked me through
the action and gave me unique insights that have served me well on subsequent
battlefield studies.
We looked at the gap in the hedge where the sniper Dickie Mann had picked
off the German gunners. Then it was into the woods to see where Jimmy had
sited his 2in mortar.
Turning right down the road past the Hotel de la Terrasse we made the
hazardous descent down the Port de Vasterival, the gully pathway leading to the
sea. Stepping off the concrete steps on to the sand and pebbles, we were on
Orange Beach 1. It was low tide – the conditions in which the Commandos had
departed following the successful attack.
Returning, we paused at the old Hotel de Ville in St Marguerite in the “Place
de No. 4è Commando,” where the human cost of the action is remembered by
the names of 16 Commandos on the memorial on the brick and flint wall of the
old building.
Down the hill to the mouth of the River Saâne and were on Orange Beach 2.
A fine rain was falling and there was an onshore breeze; the sea, shingle beach,
and river looked uninviting. In the years that followed, I would walk the route
taken by Lord Lovat’s party and feel a real respect for men who – with weapons,
equipment, and in some cases heavy Bergen rucksacks – ran this route.
Returning to Dieppe I dodged the rain squalls to visit the plaque
commemorating the dead Rangers on the site of the casino at the seafront. They
were the first American soldiers to be killed in action on European soil in World
War II.
Prior to the visit to France I had contacted one of the two surviving US
Rangers who had been attached to the Commando. Alex Szima proved a lively
and knowledgeable correspondent who had never succumbed to the temptation
or demand to “throw out all that old stuff from the war.” His archive of cuttings,
letters, and reports was informative not only about the establishment and history
of the US Rangers, but also about American domestic reaction to Dieppe.
Alex, now in a wheelchair, would return to Dieppe for the 60th Anniversary
and meet Jimmy, but sadly, like other veterans of Operation Cauldron, would
not live to see the 70th. Alex died on September 13, 2006.
Back in Hampshire, England, as work progressed Jimmy was generous with
the loan of books, documents, and photographs. Without these, and his advice
and guidance, much of the detail in this book could not have been included.
He put me in touch with two Commando veterans, Bren gunner George
Jones and demolition expert John Skerry. I am grateful to John for details of the
makeup of the charges used to destroy the guns, and his recollections of the
operation and fellow Commandos.
In Hampshire, military historian and antiquarian book dealer Ken Ford
generously supplied me with books and other references from his extensive
collection.
The Imperial War Museum Sound Archive provided a unique record of
interviews with the men who fought at the Hess battery. To listen to the tapes is
to hear not only firsthand accounts, but also to receive a lesson in a non-intrusive
but effective interview technique.
The busy staff at Romsey Public Library, a branch of the Hampshire County
Library Service, were a great help, tracking down titles long out of print and
checking publication dates. Since I began writing about No. 4 Commando they
have assisted me with other books and projects I have undertaken.
Dr Alistair Massie of the National Army Museum, who produced from the
archives the papers of No. 4 Commando’s Intelligence Officer (IO) Lieutenant
Tony Smith, gave me an added insight into the operation.
My thanks to Tim Stenkis of the Royal Signals Museum, who provided the
technical data for the radio sets used by the Commando.
It was as I worked through this mass of information, autobiographies, and
accounts that I realized I had encountered No. 4 Commando before. As a 12-
year-old curled up in my school dormitory I had read The Raid at Dieppe, a book
that had definitely not come from the school library. The account of Operation
Jubilee by the American correspondent Quentin Reynolds, originally published