Toehold in Europe (Combined Operations Book 5) Read online

  "Is there room?"

  "There will be when we blow one out of the water. Go forrard and have every gun fire at the right hand boat. Ignore everything else. If we can sink it we can escape."

  The if was a mile wide and a grave deep!

  I ran to the gunners. "Everyone, fire at the right hand fishing ship. The Captain wants her sunk. Sergeant Poulson, it is made of wood, aim below the water line."

  Bullets and shell were still hitting our port side but we ignored them as we fired at the sixty feet long fishing boat. They had a couple of guns on board but the Tommy guns of my men killed the gunners. The boat was crewless but it was in position. We could not go around it for fear of hitting the harbour wall or the other fishing boat. Suddenly I saw Alan Crowe with the grenade launcher. He fired high in the sky. Sometimes luck favours the brave for it arced on to the deck and exploded. We were less than thirty yards away and going so fast that I knew that a collision was imminent. The Oerlikon gunner chose that moment to pump four shells almost at the very spot which Bill had hit. Amazingly the boat began to split in two and we ground through the two broken halves. Our paintwork would be a mess but we were through.

  "Fire at the harbour wall!"

  As they cleared the walls of enemy soldiers, in the distance, I heard the last two demolition charges going off. It was hard to hear against the sound of the bombs which were falling on Bizerte but when I turned I saw the two glows which told me that we had succeeded. I waited until Bizerte was a dull glow in the distance before I relaxed. I smiled at the gunners, "Well done, chaps! Damned fine shooting."

  I made my way back to Alan. "Do you have to take so many chances?"

  "They are my men, Alan. You would do the same for yours."

  "I am not so certain."

  "Do we know the butcher's bill?"

  "Three of my chaps are wounded. Johnson and your chap Hewitt are with your casualties."

  "I'll go below. Call me if you need me."

  He gave me a wry smile, "I think I can steer my own ship, Lieutenant Harsker!"

  It was like a scene from the Crimean War. The mess was lit by emergency lights and there were bandages and pools of blood everywhere. I saw Gordy smoking a cigarette. His hands were shaking. "Are you hurt, Gordy?"

  He had wild eyes and he stared at me as though he didn't recognise me.

  "Gordy?"

  "Sorry sir. I thought we had bought it. Grimsdale was killed outright and when Corporal Jackson got hit, well it was St. Nazaire all over again. Herbert was the first of the lads to be hit. He couldn't have known anything about it. My new men did not last long!" He ground his cigarette out in a puddle of blood. Petty Officer Leslie would not be impressed. "Thank you for coming back for us, sir."

  "We never leave a man behind, you know that." I lowered my voice, "This is what I tried to say to you lads that first day. This is not glorious. Perhaps I should have just brought my section. This was too big a mission. I am sorry. I should have eased you in to it."

  "Sir, with respect, that is rubbish! We are Commandos. We trained together! I should be able to handle it better. Next time I will!"

  I decided to let it go. Gordy had his pride. He shook his head to clear it and asked, "What is the damage?"

  "Lance Sergeant Lowe and Corporal Jackson are both dead. The SBA couldn't save them. Your chap Emerson and Peter Davis are both wounded. They should pull through."

  He lit another cigarette. "Did all the charges go off?"

  "They did."

  "Then that is one positive thing to take home."

  "I think we take home more than that, Gordy. We sailed into the heart of a German held port, and pulled off one of the biggest demolition jobs ever. I reckon we have something to shout about. Now you and the lads get some rest."

  He nodded and slumped into a chair. I went over to Fred Emerson who was being tended to by John Hewitt. "How is it Fred?"

  He tried to rise. Hewitt said, "Lie back you daft bugger! Do you want to pop these stitches?"

  "Sorry Doc. I am fine, sir. I got a bullet in the arm. Doc here says it missed the bone. I'll be right as rain before you know it."

  "I know you will. Well done Doc."

  "You know about George?"

  I nodded, "Where did he get it?"

  "Machine gun in the spine. He knew nothing about it. It was just bad luck. He wouldn't want to be a cripple."

  "You make sure you get some rest too."

  "I will, sir."

  I went back on deck to get some fresh air and to think about the letters that I would have to write. Major Fleming would be happy but George Lowe's wife and children would not. Another hero was not coming back. The others who had died would not have the chance to emulate my Lance Sergeant.

  Chapter 9

  We buried our dead on the headland overlooking the bay. For Jackson, Herbert and Grimsdale it was a short time they had served with us. They had been real Commandos, for however short a time and they had made a difference. We would remember them. We would raise a glass when all of this was over. Three days later we took 'Lucky Lady' down to Valetta. Hugo, Alan and I had to report to Major Fleming. I guessed he was not enamoured of our idyll by the sea. Petty Officer Leslie and the crew made make shift repairs while Scouse and Shepherd appropriated a few items to make life a little more pleasant.

  Major Fleming had a far grander office than Hugo had been allocated when he had been in Gib. The Major was going places. We were seated with the minimum of pleasantries.

  "A good operation; no I will go further. It was an almost perfect operation. The railway line is still out of action." He smiled, "They can't get the rails. Already our chaps are pushing forward."

  I gritted my teeth, "Good to know, sir."

  He leaned back in his chair and blew smoke rings, "What you chaps don't know is that last week the Americans were knocked about a bit by Jerry at Kasserine Pass. Your attack has more than made up for it. And Rommel has been ordered out of Africa. Hitler must think we are about to win. We are almost ready to take Tunisia and we have played no small part in this."

  I resented the 'we', he had done nothing!

  He rocked forward on his chair and pointed to Alan, "That was quick thinking with the convoy! We shall have to try to use you more like that in future."

  "We were lucky and there were E-Boats which survived. They will remember us."

  "Oh don't worry about that. We have Tunis and Bizerte surrounded. They can't get any more ships out and the Americans are bombing the hell out of their airfields. The Germans who know you will be in the bag soon enough." He stood and unrolled a map on the wall. "We can prepare for this."

  The map was of Sicily. I read the name of the operation, 'Operation Husky.'

  "Operation Husky, I take it that is the code name for the invasion of Sicily?"

  "Yes, daft name I know, but it is an American led operation. It is all hush, hush. We are trying to make the Germans and the Italians think we are landing in Greece. They are already moving their most powerful units there." He pointed to a spot some fifty miles from the south coast, "Except for these. The Herman Goering Division. They are a top notch outfit. You will see that the two attacks are to the east and the west of that division. I want you to stop the Herman Goering Division from reinforcing the forces to the east."

  I looked at Alan who rolled his eyes, "Sir, I have less than a dozen men. How can we stop a Division?"

  "You have shown great skill already. I am certain that you could come up with something. You are all bright chaps. Oh, by the way I have put you two in for promotion. With any luck you will soon be Captain Harsker and you will be Lieutenant Commander Jorgenson. Who knows; if you pull this off you may get another promotion or a gong out of it."

  Neither Alan nor I were interested in his thirty pieces of silver. Hugo, however was interested in the planning of the operation. He liked chess and those sorts of games. He enjoyed puzzles. Hugo was no warrior but he was a thinker and he stood and went to the map to study it. "
I think I see something here, sir."

  Major Fleming said, "That's the spirit!"

  I asked, "Sir, when is this invasion planned?"

  "The beginning of July. You would have to be in Sicily by the end of June." He stood and went to a coffee pot. "Coffee? This is the real stuff."

  Alan nodded, "Thank you, sir."

  I joined Hugo at the map. I said quietly, "Hugo I do not want to write any more letters home. We have lost enough young men already."

  He nodded and added, quietly, "I know, Tom. I am trying to come up with something which is less dangerous."

  Major Fleming's waspish voice sounded, "What are you two whispering about?"

  "Just coming up with the bones of a plan, sir. You know, eliminate the impossible and whatever is left, no matter how unlikely, is possible. The division looks to be in a mountainous part of the country. They have placed it so that it is equidistant between Syracuse and Licata. I take it that it was only moved there recently?"

  "Yes, after Alamein."

  "Then they are covering themselves in case we do invade. Now there are no convenient bridges for Tom to blow up. That is the easiest way to stop a division. It takes time to build a new one. But here, to the west of Ragusa, it looks like they have put hairpins in the road. Now if you could get some aerial photographs then Tom and his lads could do what they did in Reggio and bring down a mountain on to a road. Using nature is always best."

  "I can get you photographs."

  I looked at the place Hugo had identified. "Hugo, that is about fourteen miles from the coast! It would take a night to get there. We would have to lie up and then a night to blow it and get back down again. Alan couldn't wait for us for two days."

  "No, of course not. You would have to go in by air. It is a remote area and you could blow the road and the mountain and get down to meet Lieutenant Jorgenson by dawn." Hugo had never dropped from the air and he knew nothing of the dangers. To him it was a logical solution to a problem.

  Alan said, "Meaning we would have to get back during daylight?"

  "I am afraid so."

  "That is a risk worth taking, Lieutenant Jorgenson."

  Alan shot a black look at the Major. "That is a matter of opinion."

  "No, Lieutenant," he said coldly, "that is a matter of fact. If you do not feel that you can continue in this unit I have plenty other officers who would enjoy the freedom you have."

  Alan stared briefly at the Major and then turned to me, "What do you think, Tom?"

  Dad had always told me never to make decisions when you were angry. We needed to buy some time. "Let's study these aerial photographs and see what the ground is like. It might be possible. We have a couple of months don't we, sir?"

  "Oh yes. The invasion date is already set. We are assuming that Tunisia will have fallen well before then." He put his hands on the table and stood. "Excellent! You will have to return here for the photographs, Lieutenant Ferguson. They will be top secret. Give me a fortnight to get them organised. That will give you time to refine your ideas eh?"

  "Sir, we lost a couple of non commissioned officers."

  "Well I don't think it would be a good idea to draft in new ones before such an important operation. Promote a couple of your chaps eh? I am certain you have suitable candidates and I will see what I can to about expediting your own promotion. When you have the plan organised we will see if they have come through."

  As we walked back to the boat Alan said, "The man is a snake! He is trying to buy us with a promotion."

  Hugo said, "But you both deserve it! You deserve medals too!"

  I shook my head, "This sounds like bribery. The title will stick in my throat. I want to be a Captain but not this way. Not paid for with the blood of my men."

  Hugo said, sadly, "I am afraid that is the way it has always been. When you promote Hay to Lance Sergeant he will know that George Lowe had to die."

  I stopped and stared at him, "How did you know that I would promote Bill Hay?"

  "Easy, he is a corporal already and you have said to me, many times, that he is sergeant material." He smiled, "Besides he has just become a dad and you are thinking of the extra pay he will get. I am getting to know you, Tom."

  Alan laughed, "He is right, Tom. That is how you think. What about the Corporal?"

  "It is either John Hewitt or Scouse. I am inclined to Hewitt as he is slightly more dependable."

  Alan said, "I would agree with that. I don't know if you have noticed but the others all defer to him. Scouse is your joker."

  "Gordy Barker was a joker."

  "I have only just met him but Sergeant Barker also strikes me as a leader. Is Scouse a leader?" Hugo was shrewd.

  He was right, "Not yet but he will be."

  "Then you need to develop those skills."

  Fletcher and Shepherd were waiting guiltily next to the E-Boat when we returned, "Hurry up sir. We are ready to push off."

  "Why the hurry Scouse?"

  "No real hurry sir but some pongoes might be missing a couple of cases of peaches so a swift departure would help."

  I shook my head, "Alan?"

  "Everything ship shape, Petty Officer Leslie?"

  Bill grinned, his pipe jutting from his mouth, "Oh aye sir! I think we need to move sharpish too!"

  We were ready for sea in a matter of minutes. As we headed out of the crowded harbour I saw the distinctive red caps of the military police. I looked at my two men who shrugged. "They were just lying there on the harbour wall, sir. I mean any of the locals who work here could have had them. They would have been on the black market as sure as shooting."

  I shook my head.

  Petty Officer Leslie said, "They are right sir. The same goes for the tinned pears which are in the galley too!"

  Alan turned to his petty officer and laughed, "Petty Officer Leslie!"

  He kept staring ahead as he said, "Call it a reward for a job well done. We get bugger all else do we, sir?" He gestured with a thumb back to the harbour. "The blokes who would have had the tinned fruit were the store men and admin staff. They don't put their lives on the line like your lads do. No sir, I would never steal.. This isn't stealing; it is redistributing the rewards!"

  Alan nodded, "I can't argue with you there."

  It was a pleasant spring morning on the Med and so the three of us sat by the rear gun emplacement and discussed this new operation. "I don't think it is a problem for us, Tom. It is only fifty miles from the base to the pickup point. At full speed we can be back in an hour. It is you lads who have the hard job. You would have to get through fourteen miles of enemy territory and, I am assuming, that you would have to blow the road up before you left."

  "Yes. I know you meant well Hugo but it is a Herculean task you have set us."

  "Sorry Tom but I know Major Fleming. If his chaps came up with the operation it would have been even riskier. It actually makes sense. The Germans wouldn't assume that blowing up the road was a prelude to an invasion. They might even put it down to partisans. It is like a chess game. The Major is thinking three moves ahead. I doubt that they will be in any hurry to repair the road. With North Africa falling there will be other priorities." Some of my men came on deck and headed to the bow to sun bathe. Hugo pointed at Fred. "Emerson is good with vehicles isn't he?" I nodded. "Then steal a truck."

  "Easier said than done."

  Hugo smiled, "We use the aerial photographs; they show a lot more than you realise. They will show where cars are parked, garages, bus depots. Any of those vehicles would do. When I looked at the terrain it seemed to me that it was sparsely populated. If you could steal a vehicle then you could be down the mountain in half an hour rather than three hours. You would need to land as soon after dusk as you can."

  I nodded. Hugo was right. This was possible. It would be hard but we might just be able to pull it off. "And at least we get a couple of months to plan, prepare and ready ourselves."

  When we reached our cove Gordy and Polly were already working with the
men. We might have just had finished an operation but we were Commandos and training never stopped. Scouse whistled, "Ey up lads. Get this stuff ashore."

  The ill gotten gains had been shared and our allocation was ready to be carried ashore. Scouse had been a little free with the truth. They had more than a few tins of peaches. It was all foodstuffs and would last us for months; at least until our next operation. As the cases were carried ashore Hugo said, "Will you tell the two men tonight that they have been promoted?"

  "No, I will see them tomorrow. I want to make sure I have made the right decision. I intend to sleep on it."

  "Good idea. And when will you celebrate becoming a Captain... sir?"

  I shook my head. "I never count chickens!"

  "I think that is the right approach, Tom. I reckon our Major Fleming would have made a good used car salesman! I don't know about the Commandos but I am pretty certain that his word carries no word in the Navy. It takes a senior naval officer to make a promotion. I am not saying we won't get promoted but I am saying that Major Fleming will have little to do with it."

  I nodded, "It might well be that he has heard, through the grapevine that Alan is to be promoted. He would use that to his own ends. I think I have the measure of Major Fleming. He sees a staff officer's cap and it will be us that wins it for him."

  Poor Hugo looked so disappointed that I felt sorry for puncturing his balloon. Dad had told me the way some senior officers worked.

  "Oh! Sorry I became excited for you."

  I put my arm around Hugo, "It wouldn't change either of us anyway! Come on, let's get ashore. I think we will eat well tonight."

  Alan came from the bridge flourishing three bottles of red wine. "And Petty Officer Leslie found these. I will give one for you gentlemen to share eh?"

  We had a good night. It was more like a wake. We spoke of George Lowe, mainly, for we knew him the best but we spoke of others with whom we had served. It was just something we did to remember the dead and those who would no longer fight. I knew that Dad, Uncle Ted and the others from the Great War did so on their frequent reunions. They never forgot.