大象传媒

The Invasion of Europe 鈥� Operation Market Garden

As winter slid into spring, with the invasion of Europe imminent, it was increasingly evident that it would be the 6th Airborne Division who would be used, along with our allies, for the initial landings on the continent. We, the 1st Airborne Division, would move in some second phase of the operations.

At this time, South East England was awash with troops of many nationalities with a single purpose in mind - to gain a foothold in continental Europe.

6th June, 1944, 鈥楧鈥� Day was to be the greatest combined operation of land, sea and air forces ever to be mounted in military history. It was referred to by the German High Command as 鈥楾he Longest Day鈥�, with loss of life amounting to many thousands in only a few days.

The Germans fought desperately to prevent the Allied troops becoming established in Europe, but gradually had to give ground. It was about three months later, on 17th September, 1944, with the British 2nd Army advancing from the south, that the Allied air army, consisting of the British 1st Airborne Division, 1st Polish Parachute Brigade and American airborne forces, mounted the greatest airborne offensive seen in the war. The objectives were to secure bridgeheads on the Maas-Waal and the Lek, with their many canals intersecting Holland.

Arnhem, the point of the wedge, was the scene of the most exposed and remote landings of all and the forces dropped there, of which we were a part, were to meet very heavy opposition.

After a course of weeks of studying, behind the security of locked doors - sand tables and contour maps showing the area of Arnhem with the dropping zones and all the surrounding area of woods, canals and bridges, set in their places like toys - the whole picture was fixed clearly in the mind. Should anyone, through some mishap, be dropped off target, they would have a good idea by the nature of the ground around them, how to find their bearings and hopefully link up again with their own troops.

We were given an issue of Dutch guilders. We were also issued with button compasses which were sewn onto the fly of our trousers in place of ordinary buttons, one of them being magnetised and lacquered to match the colour of the other buttons. The idea was to place one button on top of the other which would show magnetic north, giving a bearing on the direction to travel.

With the tension building up on account of the operation being delayed once or twice, it was a great relief when we finally boarded the aircraft at Grantham Aerodrome in Lincolnshire. As we taxied down the runway for take-off, we passed seemingly endless rows of Dakotas with their crews and sticks of parachutists sitting out on the grass in front of their machines. Our ears were soon attuned to the heavy drone of close-flying aircraft and after about thirty minutes in the air, we circled at a rendezvous point linking up with forces from other air stations. There seemed to be one continuous chain of aircraft as far as one could see.

I shouted to Bill that if there was any comfort in numbers we certainly had it. His steely blue eyes twinkled in reply.

It was an imposing sight on leaving the Channel behind us. The thickly-wooded forests on the continent seemed much larger than those of England. Passing along the coast towards Holland, the irregular stretches of land marked with their windmills lacked the green of the countryside of home. The canals and rivers were like silver ribbons glistening in the sun which shone from a hard sky. Little puffs of smoke exploding below, accompanied by muffled reports, showed that anti-aircraft fire was coming from the gun batteries that were daring enough to defy the attention given them by our fighter escort of Tempests and Spitfires.

Soon, we were over the dropping zone. The red light glowed above the door of the aircraft as the preparatory signal to 鈥楽tand to鈥� the door in correct order ready for jumping.

As the light turned green, the signal for 鈥楪o鈥�, Number 1 of the stick leapt out into space accompanied by the roars of 鈥淲ahoo Mohammed鈥� from the men following behind, which from personal experience served as an outlet for all the tension which had been building up since the start of the operation.

The sky seemed to rain parachutists making a truly colourful spectacle, which on reflection I suspect from an aesthetic point of view was lost upon most of us. As each plane discharged its human cargo it made a wide circle and headed for home.

Being the first wave in, we were fortunate enough to have the element of surprise in our favour and consequently the drop itself was uneventful and might well have been man艙uvres on Salisbury Plain but for the occasional burst of gunfire and the odd rifle-shot away in the distance. One could, however, sense the air of urgency about things as we struggled feverishly with the loads of equipment we had to carry. Forming into platoons, we made for the nearest cover before making our way towards our objective which was to form the bridgehead around the bridge across the River Maas at Arnhem.

Billy Sullivan, a stocky little Welsh lad from my home town of Neath, had only recently joined the battalion and was seeing action for the first time. As I came alongside him, both of us breathing heavily, he gasped, 鈥淭here鈥檚 quiet everything is Dai!鈥�.

Giving my load of bombs a quick jerk to settle them more comfortably on my back, I breathed in reply that the telegraph wires were probably red hot by now, buzzing with the news of the Allied invasion.
Moving through the village of Osterbeek in single file towards the town of Arnhem, we were greeted by the people who came running out from their houses offering us apples and glasses of water as a token of their pleasure in welcoming us. Our role as conquering heroes or liberators had, however, yet to be proved.

Soon we ran into some stiff resistance, our advance being held up near a large wooded area. The Germans fought with desperate fanaticism, putting up very strong opposition. Pushing our way slowly on to the next crossroads, we were confronted with the gruesome picture of an incident which must have happened only minutes previously. A German staff car, obviously caught up, whilst trying to escape back behind their own lines, in the crossfire from the company on our right flank was slewed across the road riddled with machine gun bullets, the windscreen completely shattered. The doors were flung wide open with bodies hanging out on either side, cut down in their in their bid to save themselves. One, with a foot still trapped in the car and dressed in resplendent uniform adorned with the red braid of a high-ranking German officer, was still tightly clutching a revolver. On the other side of the car was the driver, his lips kissing the dust from the road, his arms outstretched from his bullet-ridden body. In the back of the vehicle were two more passengers, their bodies huddled closely together as if frozen in mortal terror of the fate that had befallen them. The shiny patent-leather of the jack boots and the bright red gash on the side of the well-groomed head of the general, whose face was twisted into a devilish grin, gave a macabre feel to the whole scene.

Pinned down once more in the next belt of trees by some heavy machine-gun fire and sporadic bursts of rifle fire, the whole place echoed with the ricochets from tree to tree, numbing one鈥檚 senses with their incessant whines. The changing light from a purplish sky gave the effect of unreality to everything. A half-track vehicle crashed through the trees on our right, sweeping the wood with its fire as it moved clumsily forward like some enraged prehistoric beast disturbed from its slumber. We hurriedly dived for cover into the undergrowth as a pile of mortar bombs, which we had stacked behind the gun we had been firing, exploded sending fragments of steel flying in all directions. I felt a red hot searing pain in the flesh of my calf muscle as I hit the ground.

鈥淎re you alright, Bill?鈥� I cried as I heard him give a moan of pain.

Cupping his face in his hands, he spoke between his fingers, 鈥淚鈥檒l be OK in a minute! Thank God my eyes are alright鈥�
His features were peppered with tiny fragments of steel which caused his face to swell up in no time like a character from a comic opera.

The half-track coming on the scene seemed to be just the spur we needed as we pushed forward out of danger. I realised, with some relief, that I could manage to hobble along and almost forgot about the injured leg, except for the discomfort from the blood that dripped down into my now-soggy boot squelching under my tread.

Continued in Part 10

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