The Red Devils: From Bruneval to the Falklands

THE RED DEVILS

(New Edition)

Pegasus and Bellerophon (Statuette). (Courtesy Cyril Peckham, F.R.P.S.)

The emblem of Airborne Forces is Bellerophon mounted on the winged horse Pegasus. The first recorded instance of an airborne warrior, his exploits are recounted in Greek mythology, where he is chiefly famous for slaying the fire-breathing monster Chimaera. Mounted on Pegasus, with spear in hand, Bellerophon rode into the air, swooped down upon the monster and destroyed it.

This emblem was chosen for British Airborne Forces by the late Lieutenant-General Sir Frederick (Boy) Browning, GCVO, KBE, CB, DSO, DL, when he was appointed to raise Airborne Forces in 1941. The sign was designed in May, 1942 by Major Edward Seago, to be worn on the arm by all airborne soldiers.

In 1946 the beautiful bronze statuette, pictured above, the work of the sculptress Mrs. A. R. Oxenford, was accepted by the Royal Academy. It was commissioned by the Trustees of the Airborne Forces Security Fund and presented by them to the Museum of Airborne Forces on 1st October, 1968.

THE RED DEVILS

(New Edition)

From Bruneval to the Falklands

G. G. Norton

First published in Great Britain, 1971

by Leo Cooper Ltd,

190 Shaftesbury Avenue,

London WC2 8JL

Second edition 1984

in association with

Martin Seeker & Warburg Limited

54 Poland Street, London WIV 3DF

Copyright © 1971, 1984 by G. G. Norton

Introduction Copyright © 1971,1984 by

Lt-General Sir Brian Horrocks

Reprinted 1986

ISBN 0436 31525 4

Hippocrene Books, Inc

171 Madison Avenue

New York, NY 10016

ISBN 0 87052 297 3

Printed in Great Britain by BAS Printers Limited,

Over Wallop, Stockbridge, Hampshire

The Red Devils

INTRODUCTION

LT – GENERAL SIR BRIAN HORROCKS

A few years after the end of the last war a young major from a very distinguished regiment asked if he could come and see me. On arrival he said, ‘If this country became involved in another major war, wouldn’t you rather have my regiment under your command than any other in the British Army’. Sadly I replied, ‘No—I should ask for the Red Devils—the parachute brigade whom I consider to be among the best troops in the world.’ He was very upset and even angry, but if he will now read this book I hope he will understand what I meant. Conscription was still in existence at that time, yet the Parachute Brigades were composed entirely of volunteers (fifty per cent of whom failed to make the grade owing to the severity of their training).

I congratulate the author, Major G. G. Norton, who is the founder and curator of the Airborne Forces Museum at Aldershot, on this comprehensive account of our Airborne troops during the first forty years of their life. Started at Ringway Airport, Manchester on 21 June, 1940, under the title of the ‘Central Landing School’, in two years it had grown to a force of two divisions and an Independent Brigade each with their own Airborne Headquarters.

The first airborne operation was carried out by seven officers and thirty-one other ranks against the Tragino aqueduct in southern Italy on 10 February, 1941, and was completely successful, though all those taking part were subsequently captured.

The three most famous airborne operations in Europe were obviously D-Day, Arnhem and the Rhine Crossing. These have been brilliantly described by the author, so I will refrain from commenting in any detail.

The 6th Airborne Division was given the task of protecting the left flank of our landings on the Normandy Beaches by seizing the bridges over the River Orne and the Caen Canal and destroying the Merville Battery, a seemingly impregnable fortress protected by deep mine fields and thick barbed-wire fences, with the guns themselves embedded in deep concrete shelters. This battery dominated the beaches on which the 3rd British Division was to land.

The whole operation was completely successful despite high winds which often scattered the parachutists and gliders all over the countryside. It was under these sort of conditions that their tough individual airborne training really bore fruit. Each man had received his own personal briefing before setting out and had been taught from the days of his recruit training to act on his own initiative.

To my mind, one of the bravest acts of the war was the attempt by three gliders to crash-land on top of the Merville Battery. Owing to the wind they were blown off-course but the fact that they had volunteered for this almost suicidal operation shows the spirit with which General Gale had inspired his whole Division.

The second major operation, Arnhem, involved some 30,000 British and U.S. Airborne troops and lasted from 17 to 25 September, 1945. So much has already been written and spoken about this battle that I propose to restrict my remarks to a few comments.

There were two main reasons why, in spite of the vast airborne operation, XXX Corps (the leading Corps of the 2nd Army) failed not only to reach the Zuyder Zee which was its ultimate objective but also to join up with the 1st British Airborne Division on the north bank of the Neder Rhine.

Firstly the presence, unknown to us, of the 2nd S.S. Panzer Corps which had been sent back from the front to refit at Zutphen, only twenty-six miles from Arnhem. The lightly-equipped Airborne Forces, gallantly as they fought, were no match for these heavily-armoured German troops. The German C-in-C, Gen. Model, a very experienced commander from the Russian front, was therefore able to concentrate the reinforcements which kept on pounding in from Germany on the Fuehrer’s orders (‘Holland over-shadows everything’ he had screamed at a conference on the 20th) against our long narrow lines of communication which consisted of one road up which we had to bring 20,000 vehicles. Three times this vital artery was cut. It was like trying to box against a tough opponent with one arm tied behind one’s back.

The second reason was that by halting in Brussels for administrative reasons and then having to spend at least seven days in the preparation of the complicated operation, we had given the Germans, who are first class soldiers, time to recover. The whole essence of Montgomery’s narrow thrust across the Rhine was speed—never to give the Germans time to draw breath, and this had not happened. My Corps has been accused of being slow. I can assure you that there was more desperate urgency about our operations in this battle than in any I have ever fought.

I don’t believe any troops in the world other than the 82nd U.S. Airborne Division would have succeeded in crossing the swift-running, 400 yard-wide River Waal in daylight, using British assault boats which they had never seen before. The north bank was strongly defended and their casualties were heavy, but they still got across, formed a bridgehead, and then cut off the railway bridge from the road.

The most agonising part of the whole battle, which eventually I simply could not bear to watch, was those gallant R.A.F. pilots in their daily attempts to drop supplies to the beleaguered airborne troops. They were forced to fly into a concentrated deadly barrage at a height of 1,000 feet, maintaining a straight and level course before releasing their supplies. Their casualties were appalling, yet they never hesitated and their bravery was beyond praise.

I would like to have described just one action carried out by the S.A.S. the brain-child of David Stirling in the Western Desert, but space will not permit. As the S.A.S. are trained to operate behind the enemy lines they have been involved in so many remarkable adventures both in war and in the so-called peace-keeping role that they deserve a book to themselves.

Every man is a volunteer and eighty per cent are rejected owing to the high standard of toughness and initiative demanded of them. They are probably the best all-round troops in the world, and the capture of the 10,000 foot high Mt. Akhdar in Muscat and Oman by two squadrons of the 22nd S.A.S. will always rank as an epic of initiative and endurance carried out by British troops. It is an example of the supremely high standards which the Airborne Forces and the S.A.S. in particular demand of themselves.

Lastly I think I should perhaps add to this introduction which was written for the first edition of this work. It would be unusual if I did not take this opportunity of congratulating The Parachute Regiment on their outstanding performance in the recent conflict in the South Atlantic. It goes without saying that they excelled themselves as indeed they always have and Major Norton’s gripping account of their heroic actions is a fitting tribute to all ranks. I am proud to have been able to add these words.

Acknowledgements

This book is intended to provide the interested reader with a reasonably comprehensive background to the formation, development and achievements of British Airborne Forces in both peace and war. Whilst it is not intended as a treatise for the serious student of military history it will, I trust, serve as an introduction and background for further study. I have made no attempt to analyse or draw conclusions from the operations or campaigns described, leaving this to those who are more qualified than I to do so. Nor do I claim that this story covers all aspects of Airborne history. The contents are, I believe, in so far as I have been able to cross-reference them from private and official records, accurate. They are based primarily on the highlights of a short but but not uneventful period.

The completion of this history became for me a challenge, and I offer the finished result as a tribute to all soldiers who have, in war and peace gone into action by air, to the airmen who flew them and to those who, often at great sacrifice, supplied them from the air.

Space does not permit the mention of all those who have assisted me in this task. I would, however, like to acknowledge the assistance of Lieutenant-Colonel M. A. J. Tugwell, The Parachute Regiment, Lieutenant-Colonel D. Cardie, Royal Corps of Transport, Group Captain J. A. Moody, R. A. F., Mr. S. Veale of ‘Esso Air World’ Mr. Hugh Popham and my wife. I am also indebted to The Imperial War Museum, the Royal Air Force Photographic Library and the Commandant General, Royal Marines for permission to reproduce photographs in this book. To all those whose names do not appear I offer my sincere thanks and my apologies for the demands I have made upon them.

Contents

Chapter

1

Formation, Development and

Early Raids

‘We ought to have a Corps of at least 5,000 parachute troops’

Winston Churchill, June 1940

THERE IS something characteristically British about the origins of Airborne Forces — except, perhaps, for the fact that it was not we who first thought of the idea. That honour is shared equally by the Russians and the Germans, both of whom were developing this type of warfare as early as 1936; but even though General Wavell himself saw the former drop 1,500 men, with machine guns and light artillery, during the summer manoeuvres that year, and reported that ‘if he had not witnessed it, he would not have believed such an operation possible’, his testimony roused no enthusiasm for similar units in Britain. And when, in May of 1940, the Germans employed parachute soldiers and glider-borne troops with such devastating effect during their blitzkrieg on Western Europe, and it seemed that there might be something of value for us in this type of warfare, all that happened was that, as a result of a conference at the Air Ministry, it was stated that ‘it has been decided to establish a parachute training centre’, and the War Office detailed Major J. F. Rock, RE, ‘to take charge of the military organisation of British Airborne Forces’. That was about the extent of his brief. ‘It was impossible’, Major Rock confided, ‘to get any information as to policy or task’.

From this indeterminate beginning, and largely through the pioneering work of Major Rock and his Air Force colleagues, Wing Commander L. A. Strange, Wing Commander Sir Nigel Norman and Squadron-Leader Maurice Newnham, Airborne Forces grew and thrived. They received a timely boost from Churchill’s minute, quoted above. Its demand for a powerful offensive force—at a time when most people in Britain were concerned only with defence—was a defiant and far-sighted move that was to justify itself many times over as the tides of war changed. As a result of these separate initiatives, the Central Landing School was set up at Ringway Airport, near Manchester, on June 21; and exactly a month later men of No. 2 Commando were dropped, for the first time, from converted Whitley bombers. Central Landing School, which in August 1940 became Central Landing Establishment (and later Airborne Forces Establishment), belonged to the RAF; and it was some time before the duties and responsibilities of the two services were worked out. In the outcome, the RAF was in charge of parachute training, and the Army of the military requirements of airborne warfare.

Parachutists dropping from converted‘Whitley’ bombers, August 1942. (Courtesy Imperial War Museum.)

Even with Churchill’s backing, the call for ‘5,000 parachute troops’, with all that that entailed in the way of equipment, was not one that could be easily met in the troubled second half of 1940. For, at the worst possible moment, we were trying ‘to cover in six months the ground the Germans had covered in six years’. We had neither the aircraft nor the parachutes: and perhaps more important still we were totally without first-hand knowledge or experience. Everything had to be designed., worked out and built from the beginning. Even such elementary matters as the best way to drop parachute soldiers from the aircraft—through a hole in the floor, which was quite likely to knock their teeth out, or through a door in the fuselage—were a matter of trial and error. No. 2 Commando was transferred to parachute duties to become No. 11 SAS Battalion, and gradually the novel and difficult techniques of parachute warfare were perfected.

Early experiments in converting bomber aircraft to parachuting. This picture shows an RAF instructor having just jumped ‘through the hole in the floor’ of an Albermarle aircraft in 1940. (Courtesy Imperial War Museum.)

One small example was the elimination of all the bulky padded clothing (copied from the Germans) of the early experiments, and its replacement by normal fighting uniform together with the parachutist’s smock. Another was the development of the ‘X’ Type ‘statichute’ which opened automatically and offered, within limits, a degree of control in flight; and the dropping of men in sticks of ten. Simultaneously, the amount of equipment that a parachustist could carry with him on a drop was being worked out empirically, and was steadily increased.

And so, at a time when the Germans were preparing for their most dramatic airborne stroke—the capture of Crete in May 1941—the British were mounting their first small experimental operation. At this time, as for many years to come, parachute units were made up of volunteers from infantry regiments; and it was reported that by February 1941, these men were growing tired of training and inaction and were applying to go back to their own regiments. Then the rumour of impending action got around; there were no more applications; and when volunteers were called for, every officer and man of the 500 in the battalion stepped forward. But for that first, tentative employment of British airborne forces, only seven officers and 31 other ranks were needed.

Typical German Airborne soldiers (Fallschirmjäger). These were part of the group which rescued Mussolini, after his arrest by the Italians, in September 1943. (Courtesy Imperial War Museum.)

Their objective was the Tragino aqueduct in southern Italy. The supply ports of the Italian Armies campaigning in North Africa and Albania were Taranto, Brindisi and Bari, in the arid province of Apulia. They relied for their water on the ‘Acquedetto Pugliese’, an extensive pipeline from the River Sele through the Apennines, and it was believed that cutting the supply would cause serious dislocation in these ports. The vulnerable points in the pipeline lay inland, and since a seaborne raid was impracticable, and bombing had proved ineffective, the newly-fledged parachute troops seemed to be the obvious, and indeed the only means. A force of 38 men from the nth Special Air Service Battalion was picked, with Major T. A. G. Pritchard, RWF, in command, and Captain G. F. K. Daly, RE, to lead the demolition party. They were to drop just north of the aqueduct from six Whitley aircraft of No. 91 Squadron, as two more made a diversionary bombing raid on Foggia. HM Submarine Triumph was to rendezvous near the mouth of the River Sele on the night of February 15–16 to bring them home.

Tragino Aqueduct. This picture, the only one which existed for planning purposes, was in fact taken in 1928 when the aqueduct was built. Some unfinished buildings, the workmen’s huts and scaffolding can be seen. (Courtesy Imperial War Museum.)

After intensive training with mock-ups and models, the party assembled in Malta. The aircraft took off at dusk on February 10, arriving over the target three hours later. In the full moon dropping casualties were light, but, due to technical faults, two aircraft failed to drop their containers of arms and explosives. A third, carrying the main demolition party with Captain Daly, dropped two miles away in the next valley. Night navigation to these fine limits was still somet0hing novel; so the drop, over 400 miles from base, was remarkably accurate.

The Armstrong Whitworth ‘Whitley’. This pre-war heavy bomber was soon declared obsolescent and adapted for parachute duties. Though difficult to use—the narrow fuselage was very cramped—and could only carry a ‘stick’ of ten men it performed yeoman service in the early days. Aircraft of this type carried troops on the first two British airborne operations of the war — Tragino Aqueduct and Bruneval. (Courtesy Imperial War Museum.)

The force was short of arms, explosives, its senior RE Officer and five sappers. Second Lieutenant A. Paterson, RE, assumed command of the demolition and sufficient explosives were found to destroy a main Aqueduct pier and a bridge over the nearby River Ginestra. By 3 am on February 11, the waterway was effectively breached, and the force split into three groups to rendezvous separately with the submarine. After various adventures, all of them were captured by the next day — a misfortune that might have been mitigated for them had they known that the submarine had been unable to keep the rendezvous.

The raid was a success, but the damage was soon repaired, and its military effect was negligible. Nevertheless, it was all useful experience, both for the development of parachute equipment and aircraft, and for future operations. But it was just over a year before the second of these early raids took place.

In the interval much had happened. One of the most significant was the evolution of the military glider. No such flying machine existed in England prior to the autumn of 1940 when the first 400 Hotspurs were ordered by the Ministry for Aircraft Production; the Hotspur was a prototype which led, in time, to the great Horsas and Hamilcars of later years. Why were gliders needed at all? For two separate but interconnected reasons. First, in this early stage of airborne development, the weapons and equipment which could be dropped by parachute were very limited; and therefore gliders were required to supply such essential items as jeeps, light tanks, Bren gun carriers and artillery. Secondly, the glider was a quick and economical means of flying in reinforcements to support the initial parachute landings. Their production was a slow business, for every factory capable of building aircraft was flat out making fighters and bombers; and although a prototype Hotspur was towed past Winston Churchill as a demonstration during a combined airborne exercise on April 26, 1941, the first did not come into service until the end of the year. The Hotspur could carry eight men, but not a jeep, nor an anti-tank gun, nor heavy loads. The Mark I was a glider in the true sense, being capable of soaring. The second version had a much shortened wing-span, and was designed to glide direct to its target once released by the towing aircraft. The later, and larger, Horsas and Hamilcars, designed for cargo as well as personnel carriers, had hinged nose sections, which made for much easier and faster discharging. Even with large flaps, their landing speed was something in the order of 70 mph.

The Hotspur glider. The first British military glider, it carried a section of 8 men. Though superseded by the larger Horsa Glider and never used on operations, all the early airlanding training and experimental glider towing was carried out in these aircraft Many of the Glider Pilots also received their flying training on this aircraft and over a 1000 were produced. (Courtesy Imperial War Museum.)

In December 1941, the Glider Pilot Regiment of the Army Air Corps was formed to fly them, though the RAF continued to be responsible for parachute training and despatching the troops from the aircraft. It is of interest that the glider pilots—all of whom were officers or NCOs—were trained infantrymen, and normally formed the Divisional Commander’s reserve after landing. The glider, like the parachute, was a means to an end. In September 1941, the 1st Parachute Brigade was formed under Brigadier Richard Gale, to be followed by the 2nd and 3rd, a month or two later. And on October 10, 31 Independent Brigade Group, just back from India and mountain warfare trained, became 1st Air-landing Brigade Group. These were the troops who would man the gliders and support the parachute soldiers; a hazardous enough task, one would have thought; and yet it was decided that, unlike their air-dropped comrades, they needed little specialised training, and the work did not require volunteers. The main limiting factor lay in the shortage of gliders and pilots.

From their very beginnings, British Airborne Forces were a heterogeneous arm, volunteers drawn from two services. Thus, 38 Wing, RAF, who were responsible for parachute-dropping and glider-towing, and who kept in training by innumerable operations on the side, from bombing to dropping supplies to Europe’s underground, are very much a part of Airborne history; and the man who was to become known as ‘the father of Airborne Forces’, Brigadier F. A. M. Browning, DSO, MC, was commanding a Airborne Troops. The choice of Major-General Browning, who had had no direct experience of airborne work, seems to have been fortuitous, but could not have been bettered. It was he who established the priorities and secured the equipment in the face of rivalry from the other arms and services; and from the date of his appointment, says the official Account, ‘despite a multitude of difficulties and disappointments, there was no looking back. Airborne Forces were now an integral part of the British Army, and presently wore on their heads the maroon-coloured berets soon to become famous, and on their shoulders Bellerophon astride winged Pegasus’. Airborne Forces have always been something of a corps d’élite; and it is a fact that now, as for much of the 44 years of their existence, no more than half of those who apply to join survive the rigorous process of trial and selection.

Major-General Browning talking to the Prime Minister, Mr Winston Churchill, in 1943. (Courtesy Imperial War Museum.)

Early in 1942 the chance of a further action arose. During the previous year the Germans had established a chain of radar stations along the French Channel coast; and since the increasing interception and destruction of British bomber aircraft was attributed to these installations, the need for accurate information about them became urgent. They were heavily defended against attack from the sea, and so, once again, the only practical solution appeared to be an airborne assault.

In January 1942, Admiral Lord Mountbatten, Chief of Combined Operations, proposed such a raid against the Bruneval station near Le Havre. Major-General Browning, realising that success would establish the newly-formed airborne forces, accepted. The recently formed ‘C’ Company, 2nd Parachute Battalion under Major J. D. Frost was selected for the operation. No. 51 Squadron (Whitleys), under Wing Commander P. C. Pickard, provided the aircraft, and the naval force to evacuate them was commanded by Commander F. N. Cook, RAN. A further 32 officers and men of the Royal Fusiliers and South Wales Borderers travelling with the naval force were to cover the final withdrawal to the landing craft.

Tide and moon dictated late February for the raid, and since many of ‘C’ Company had yet to complete parachute training this left little time for practice in combined operations. Planning and equipping proceeded rapidly; excellent intelligence provided air photographs and detailed scale models of the target; and local Frenchmen supplied accurate information on enemy defences.

The radar installation stood at the edge of the cliffs, in front of an isolated villa housing the technicians. Four hundred yards to the north, in an enclosure called ‘La Presbytère’, were about 100 enemy soldiers. To the south, clustered round the steep ravine