Quentin Reynolds describes Commando raid on Dieppe
By Quentin Reynolds, Colliers staff correspondent
London, England (UP) –
The whole operation against the Dieppe region was extremely hazardous.
Maj. Gen. James Roberts, from the Canadian Army, was in charge of the military force, and he insisted that the destroyer in which he was sailing should go first. I was on that destroyer.
An armada of ships followed us. Soon dark, ghostlike shapes of silent ships began to loom on either side and astern of us. Each craft knew just where it was going. It had all been worked out with meticulous precision by the staff of the Combined Operations Command.
Flotilla moves in
We had reached within six miles of Dieppe when bright golden flashes and blue and red bursts from tracer bullets splashed the sky. The radio detector used by the Germans had evidently picked up the engines of our torpedo boats and thought the RAF was overhead. For 20 minutes, the anti-aircraft barrage continued. Meanwhile, our flotilla worked closer inshore.
British Commandos had landed by now on the beach to our right. Their job was to silence a battery of large guns at dawn. A dull explosion and a red glow told us that they had done their usual effective job.
Now the invasion barges, looking like East River scows, closed in. There was no opposition at first. Our destroyer was close enough to see the white beaches. Then heavy guns, mortars and machine guns opened and we knew our boys were catching it.
Roberts directs attack
Roberts sat in his small room with three aides who wore earphones. Roberts was in touch by radio with his men ashore and the Fighter Command in England.
He called for a smokescreen to shield his troops on the west beach. Within a few minutes, Douglas Bostons swooped low and soon the beach was covered with a heavy white screen. The men landing on the middle of the three beaches were being strafed by Focke-Wulf 190s. Roberts barked an order to an aide who contacted the Fighter Command and within half a minute, we saw a group of Spitfires veer off and take care of the situation.
Doctors work miracles
It was evident that the opposition ashore was very great. The wounded began to be brought aboard. There were a lot of them.
Many had been forced to swim. Our two doctors soon had a waiting list. They worked miracles in their tiny sick bay. One doctor amputated a man’s leg in less than 10 minutes. He had to hurry. Other urgent cases awaited.
Our destroyer was hit twice by bombs, and the doctors swore softly as the concussion and the shaking of the ship reopened wounds.
By 10:30 in the morning, Roberts ordered the landing force to withdraw. The withdrawal was difficult and costly, but many troops managed to climb into small boats and get out into the bay. Three hours later, our fleet limped out of French waters.
Few remain unscathed
Our wounded lay on the decks, in the gangways, in every cabin, and in the wardroom. Few of the crew remained untouched, for we had been under constant fire and bombing now for nearly nine hours. The Luftwaffe pursued us, and the Spitfires took a dreadful toll. Very few moments we saw a Dornier or Focke-Wulf streak comet-like into the sea.
The organization and planning was perfect, aided by weeks of aerial reconnaissance. Lord Louis Mountbatten and his aides knew everything possible about Dieppe and its neighboring territory.
Except for one thing, the raid would have been 100% perfect. The Germans had strengthened their artillery defenses, and when the troops stepped on the beaches, they met a withering fire from six-inch guns, mortars and machine guns. Many fell, but others, disregarding the storm of lead and steel, charged. In many cases, the fighting was so close the faces of the dead we brought home were covered with powder burns.