Storming St Nazaire: The Gripping Story of the Dock-Busting Raid March, 1942 by James Dorrian

Author:James Dorrian [Dorrian, James]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781783461547
Publisher: Pen & Sword Military
Published: 2013-04-07T04:00:00+00:00

13

A Storm of Fine Men

By the time of Newman’s arrival on the shore of France the pattern of the Group One and Group Two assaults had already settled itself into one of almost total failure, mitigated thus far only by the landings of Lieutenant Collier and Sub-Lieutenant Rodier.

Of the non troop-carrying boats, Tom Boyd was giving a good account of himself up by the building slips, while Irwin’s ML 270 was currently circling out of control in midstream as her crew struggled to set up the tiller steering, her hydraulic system having just been drained by a hit on the stern. Almost the last boat in the formation, Bob Nock’s ML 298 was running up past the dry dock to fulfil her secondary role of drawing fire and engaging enemy lights and guns in the river abeam of the oil tanks; while, bringing up the tail, Micky Wynn was making his way up towards the Old Entrance, eventually to come safely alongside Curtis’s gunboat. During the final approach the courage and resolution of Chief Motor Mechanic Bill Lovegrove had been yet again put to the test when a shell bursting in the engine room had peppered his right leg with splinters and knocked out the centre Packard. With his stokers looking after both wing engines and in spite of great pain, he was now working tirelessly to make good the damage and restore for his Captain the full turn of speed which was MTB 74’s only real defence against the enemy.

A sorry tale all round, the story of the small boats was punctuated by flames, smoke, shattered hulls and shattered bodies, presenting to all who could see a tableau of dramatic visual impact; however, Newman was out of sight of its despairing message and for Copland, the lurid scene was but a backdrop to the task in hand, partially glimpsed, but existing in a world apart from the clusters of crouching, stumbling, soldiers who passed by him en route to Campbeltown’s crumpled bow.

Making his way amidships after the successful disembarkation of Roderick’s party and Roy’s, Copland heard a voice call out, ‘Major Bill! Major Bill!’; however, crossing the deck to where the gravely injured Proctor lay bleeding profusely, he could only say, ‘Hang on, John, I can’t stop now but I’ll come back to you as soon as I can,’ before it was time to call the remaining parties forward. Having got these moving, he ran into Bob Montgomery at the foot of the ladder to the bridge and, after quickly discussing the situation, the sapper Captain also went over the side, accompanied by his Tommy gun armed bodyguard, the Southern Rhodesian Sergeant Jameson of 9 Commando.

A total of seven parties rose up from the deck, or emerged from below, on Copland’s command, with Lieutenant Denison’s battered team at the head of the resolute men who quickly reached out from the destroyer to seize and hold the area surrounding the inner caisson. This party should have disembarked as a unit,

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