The new operation was far more ambitious. COMET had called for only 1 Airborne Division and the Polish Parachute Brigade, with 52 Lowland Division, organized on an air portable basis, flown in as soon as an airfield was secured. Operation MARKET was to involve the whole of I Airborne Corps, which also included 82 and 101 US Airborne Divisions. The ground element, Operation GARDEN, would bring in XXX Corps to pass up a corridor created by the airborne troops, whilst VIII and XII Corps expanded its shoulders on either side.

The furthest and most important objective, crucial to penetrating Germany itself, was the bridge over the Lower Rhine at Arnhem. Arnhem had been chosen in preference to Wesel on the advice of Browning, who advanced two reasons. The RAF considered that Wesel was too close to the major flak defences of the Ruhr, whilst a successful thrust towards Arnhem would cut off the V2 rocket sites in the Netherlands, now the main menace to England itself following the destruction of the V1 sites in the Pas-de-Calais. Dempsey, on the other hand, would have preferred to hold the canal line, whilst advancing with a strong force alongside the Americans towards Cologne. If an airborne operation was mounted, his choice of objective would have been Wesel, as it involved crossing fewer water obstacles and was much closer to the Ruhr.

Richardson’s planners had for some time consistently advocated driving through the Aachen Gap, but if an airborne operation was to be mounted they, too, recommended Wesel as the objective. Richardson proposed this to Freddie on 3 September, although a welter of planning memos and instructions over the next week showed that every possible option was being explored. The staff, however, was not directly involved with the planning of MARKET, which was carried out at First Allied Airborne Army, the superior formation for the airborne forces, and by Browning’s own staff at I Airborne Corps. Monty accordingly came down firmly in favour of Arnhem.

The combined MARKET GARDEN plan was extremely ambitious: 101 Airborne Division was to land north of Eindhoven and take the bridges over the Wilhelmina Canal at Son, the Zuid-Wilhelmsvaart Canal at Veghel and some lesser waterways; 82 Airborne Division was ordered to seize the longest bridge in Europe, over the River Maas at Grave, and the bridges over the Maas-Waal Canal. More controversially, its other primary objective was to take and hold the Groesbeek Heights, dominating the approaches to Nijmegen from the south, and only then to capture the bridge over the River Waal north of the town, while 1 Airborne Division was given the road, rail and pontoon bridges over the Lower Rhine at Arnhem. It would be reinforced by the Polish Parachute Brigade on D+2 and by 52 Division once the airfield at Deelen, north of Arnhem, had been captured.

XXX Corps would break out of its bridgehead on the Meuse-Escaut Canal, take Eindhoven, pass up the corridor created by the three airborne divisions and then exploit north of Arnhem to Apeldoorn and Nunspeet, before turning east to cross the River Ijssel into the North German Plain. XII Corps would advance to the left of the corridor towards Tilburg and ’s-Hertogenbosch and VIII Corps to the right towards Helmond.

This mammoth undertaking required considerable logistical support for Second Army and, whilst Graham himself thought that the resources would be adequate, some strong reservations began to be expressed within the Q branch. Although an army roadhead was established near Brussels on 6 September, and whilst Dieppe, with a capacity of 6,000 tons per day, was just beginning to make a difference, the army was still living on its reserves. Monty felt that he needed more and any increment could only come from SHAEF. For this reason, as well as to ensure the availability of I Airborne Corps, the second meeting he held on 10 September, with Eisenhower at Brussels airport, was as important as the first. It also provided Monty with a further opportunity to advance the rationale for the Northern Thrust.

Eisenhower had now relocated SHAEF Forward to Granville, on the sea north of Avranches and about as far from his two army group commanders as it was possible to be. He flew up to Brussels in a C-47 and remained on the aircraft, as he had injured his leg and was finding it difficult to walk. This was the first time Monty had seen the Supreme Commander for over two weeks and he launched immediately into a litany of complaints about the lack of supplies and Eisenhower’s failure to grasp what was clearly the only sensible strategy. ‘Steady, Monty, you can’t speak to me like that. I’m your boss,’ replied Eisenhower. Monty apologized, but continued to advance his cause. Eisenhower maintained the stance which he had adopted since the meeting on 23 August, refusing to give full priority to 21st Army Group or to scale down Patton’s advance towards the Saar. He did, however, authorize the use of I Airborne Corps for MARKET GARDEN.

With supplies needing to be built up, Monty sent off a signal on the next day advising Eisenhower that he would have to delay the operation until 23 September. The response was immediate. On 12 September, Bedell Smith arrived in Brussels to tell Monty that Eisenhower had now agreed to divert the transport of three American divisions to supporting the new operation, to halt the Saar thrust, to give priority within 12th US Army Group to Hodges’s First US Army on Monty’s right flank and to allow Monty to deal directly with Hodges, rather than through Bradley. It seemed that the Northern Thrust was now becoming a reality and an exultant Monty advanced D-Day for MARKET GARDEN to 17 September.

It all proved to be an illusion. Bradley, who visited Monty on 13 September and heard all about the proposals, then lobbied Eisenhower, with the result than none of the promised support materialized. With Monty, Dempsey and Browning all completely unaware of this, preparations for the operation continued. Concerns, however, were now growing at Main HQ. It probably did not help that it was in the throes of moving, first to Amiens during the week ending 9 September and then to Brussels in the following week, with the full HQ not finally installed in the Residence Palace until 23 September. It certainly did not help that Freddie was away in England. Monty had become concerned that his Chief of Staff was overworking and potentially heading for a breakdown, so had him sent back for a rest and medical treatment on 9 September. Freddie did not return until D-Day itself.

The Operations staff at Main were worried about two significant elements of 1 Airborne Division’s plan. The first was that the nearest landing site was six miles from the bridge, whilst others were even further away. The RAF refused to countenance anything closer, due to flak concentrations being reported south of the town itself and around Deelen airfield. This, together with a belief that the country south of the bridge was unsuitable for gliders, also ruled out a coup de main of the type carried out so successfully at Pegasus Bridge. As a result of this decision only one parachute brigade would be available on D-Day to capture the bridge, and it would have to march there. The airlanding brigade would have to remain behind to defend the landing and drop zones due to the second flaw, which was that only one lift of the three needed was planned for the first day. This meant that half the division, including the second parachute brigade, would arrive on D+1, and the Polish Parachute Brigade not until D+2. On this issue the RAF was amenable to a second lift on D-Day, but was overruled by the commander of IX US Troop Carrier Command, which provided the transport for the paratroops, who ruled that the returning aircraft would need to be serviced and that their crews would require a rest.

The Intelligence staff were more concerned with messages intercepted by ULTRA, which suggested that 9 and 10 SS Panzer Divisions were refitting near Arnhem following their escape from Normandy. In fact, both divisions had been reduced to about 3,000 men, a small fraction of the normal establishment, and they had sent most of the surviving tanks back to Germany for repair and servicing. However, the remaining troops were seasoned soldiers, most with experience on the Eastern Front, and they still had other armoured vehicles available. As early as 10 September, Williams tried to persuade Monty not to go ahead and he and Oliver Poole, who was particularly worried about the supply situation, spent much time trying to think of ways of stopping him. Joe Ewart at Tac told Williams that he had briefed Monty fully about the panzer divisions, but that Monty was determined to proceed. Belchem, deputising for Freddie, gave Monty a full briefing on the flaws of the plan and he and Richardson together recommended a postponement to provide time to correct them. Monty did agree to send Belchem to England to ask Lieutenant General Lewis Brereton, Commanding General of First Allied Airborne Army, to allow two drops on the first day; but Brereton, an airman himself, was obdurate, and Monty was unable to contest the primacy of the air arm when it came to such decisions. Finally, Freddie was persuaded to ring Monty from his hospital bed, warning him that stiffening resistance, the logistical situation, the weather and the vulnerability of the corridor all combined to put the success of the operation in serious doubt.

Monty, physically isolated at Tac from his most senior staff, ignored all their advice to delay or cancel the operation.

MARKET GARDEN nevertheless started well. The Germans were taken by surprise and the parachute drops and glider landings were initially uncontested. Moreover, in the first ever major daylight airborne operation, the troops arrived substantially on target, unlike in Sicily or Normandy. While 101 US Airborne Division took most of its objectives, a coup de main by 82 US Airborne Division secured the Grave bridge. The latter division also captured a key bridge over the Maas-Waal Canal and seized and held the Groesbeek Heights. The 2nd Parachute Battalion managed to reach the Arnhem road bridge and to hold its northern end. In the south, Guards Armoured Division broke out of its bridgehead.

Problems, however, were already emerging. The bridge over the Wihelmina Canal at Son was blown up by the Germans. The Guards were held up at Valkenswaard and then, on D+1, delayed by huge crowds on their progress through Eindhoven. The result was that the bridging equipment could only be brought up that evening and, by the time it was in place, the timetable was slipping badly. It was not until the morning of 19 November that the Guards reached Nijmegen, to find that 82 US Airborne Division, with its glider regiment delayed by bad weather in England, had lacked the strength to take the Nijmegen bridge. In the meantime, the Germans had reacted fast under the energetic leadership of Field Marshal Model and were attacking the narrow corridor, the Groesbeek Heights and, most alarmingly, the paratroopers at Arnhem. Most of the D+1 lift had arrived, but now the Poles were also grounded by the weather. In the south, XII Corps was making very slow progress, whilst VIII Corps had started two days late, due to one of its divisions being delayed on the way from Normandy.

On the afternoon of 20 September, all other attempts to take the Nijmegen road bridge having failed, an audacious attack in small boats across the Waal was carried out by 82 Airborne Division, seizing the north end of the bridge, which the Germans were unable to destroy. A few tanks of the Guards Armoured Division managed to cross the bridge in daylight, but were unable to advance further, due to the lack of infantry support.

The situation went from bad to worse. On several occasions the Germans cut the airborne corridor, although each time they were eventually repulsed. The 2nd Parachute Battalion was overwhelmed on the morning of 21 September, whilst the remainder of 1 Airborne Division, whose GOC had been cut off for 48 hours and had only just reappeared, was penned into a defensive perimeter at Oosterbeek, west of Arnhem. The Poles were diverted to the opposite bank of the river at Driel, where they made a heroic attempt, together with a battalion from 43 Division, to cross the Lower Rhine, but were repulsed with great losses. On 25 September Browning and Horrocks, having consulted Monty and Dempsey, agreed to cut their losses, and the survivors were brought back across the river, including 1,741 men from 1 Airborne Division out of the 8,969 who had flown in.

Monty, who remained MARKET GARDEN’s ‘unrepentant advocate’,² claimed afterwards that it had been 90 per cent successful. He was wrong. It totally failed to achieve its strategic objective and destroyed 1 Airborne Division as a fighting formation for the remainder of the war. The two men most to blame were Monty and Browning, the chief architects of the operation, although many others contributed, notably the airmen for their decisions on the lifts and the drop and landing zones. Monty himself maintained that the operation would have succeeded completely if it had received the support he had been promised, placing this above other reasons, of which he singled out the weather in England delaying the arrival of reinforcements and the presence of the German panzer divisions north of Arnhem. The simple fact, however, was that it had been executed on the back of a bad plan, whose deficiencies had been clearly identified by Monty’s own staff. Other factors contributed, including the failure of 1 Airborne Division’s signals, which resulted in both its internal communications and those to the outside world being poor to non-existent throughout the battle,³ the brushing aside of intelligence on the presence of the panzer divisions and an irrational over-confidence about the collapse of the Germans. As it turned out, the Germans responded vigorously and proved to be highly effective against an operation whose tolerances were so tight.

The operation was atypical of Monty. He was generally meticulous in his preparation, refusing to move until he was absolutely ready, with the odds stacked in his favour. On this occasion, blinded by his determination to seize the opportunity to pursue his Northern Thrust strategy, for the first and only time he accepted a plan which had not been endorsed by his staff, but was firmly in the hands of others. His dispositions also lacked the balance which had always enabled him to change a plan very quickly if the situation so demanded. In this case I Airborne Division and the whole of XXX Corps were so far out on a limb that no such change could take place. He also seemed to lack the day-to-day grip on operations for which he was justly renowned and which alone justified the use of a Tac HQ. Apart from the decision to withdraw across the Lower Rhine, Monty made very little impact on events.

This may have been in part because his Liaison Officers were having an even more difficult time than usual. A single road between Eindhoven and Nijmegen, aptly named ‘Hell’s Highway’, was the only route to I Airborne Corps and XXX Corps. This lay across open country, above which it was occasionally raised, and was itself narrow and congested with traffic of all descriptions. The road was frequently subjected to German counter-attacks, some of which succeeded in cutting it for hours or even days. This vulnerability resulted in some of the LOs being issued with Daimler scout cars, which were at least impervious to small arms fire, in place of their jeeps. Those using Austers were not immune, one of the aircraft being shot up north of Eindhoven, although it managed to land safely.

Confusion often reigned supreme. On one occasion Sanderson thought that he was the object of an enemy attack and quickly abandoned his vehicle, only to find out that he had inadvertently strayed into crossfire. On 21 September, Mather found himself in the middle of a German counter-attack at Veghel and at one moment he was only yards from a Tiger tank, which was luckily facing in the other direction. He and his driver were forced to shelter for the night with another LO on hard benches in a rough Dutch hostelry, the only occasion on which he failed to report to Monty the same evening. On the next day, although the road remained cut, he managed to find a way through and bring news of the situation on the ground. On the day he set out, Tac had moved from Everberg to Bourg Leopold, which at least meant a shorter return journey.

Llewellyn was not devoid of problems with his own LOs, but in addition to the usual resident at Second Army, he arranged for Major Ben Hutchings to be embedded with XXX Corps, improving the reliability of his information. Others from Main HQ were also on the road. Immediately after the operation was launched, Richardson and Poole set off for Nijmegen. ‘We realized that there was little we could do about the forward battle,’ wrote Richardson later, ‘but by short-circuiting the long complex chain of command we might make ourselves useful over any logistic emergency that might have arisen.’⁴ Like others, they were repeatedly held up by German incursions and they became very worried about the slow progress of the follow-up. Arriving in due course in Nijmegen, they reported to Horrocks, who seemed to Richardson to be less decisive than usual, and also met Browning. Although their services were not required, they had at least been able to see for themselves the situation on the ground. Like Mather, they were cut off on their return and had to spend an uncomfortable night in a Dutch cellar.

The failure of MARKET GARDEN spelt the end of the Northern Thrust, after a very brief period when it seemed that Monty might get his way. On 21 September, even as it was becoming apparent that the operation was in trouble, albeit not at that point hopeless, Monty urged Eisenhower to put First US Army under his command for a concerted advance to the Ruhr. Eisenhower, who had recently relocated SHAEF Forward from Granville to Versailles, convened a conference with his senior commanders on the next day. Monty, disliking such events and believing that field commanders should never have to go back to see their superiors, particularly in the middle of a major operation, declined to attend and sent Freddie in his place, accompanied by ‘Simbo’ Simpson, who was on a visit from the War Office and could represent Brooke’s views. Simpson had been briefed by Monty to complain to Eisenhower and to Bedell Smith, with whom he was on friendly terms, about the lack of the supplies Monty had been promised.

Bradley arrived at the conference with an alternative proposal, which was not only to use First US Army and Ninth US Army, the latter about to deploy for the first time, for a thrust to the Ruhr via Aachen, but to swing Third US Army left in support. The implication was that the move would be firmly under the control of 12th US Army Group. To his surprise, Eisenhower came down in Monty’s favour, even to the extent that Patton’s advance would be stopped. Bradley was ordered to see Monty on the following day to make the necessary arrangements.

Monty’s triumph, however, was short-lived. Not only was MARKET GARDEN stuttering to a close, leaving 21st Army Group in a cul-de-sac, but the logistics situation at 12th Army Group had become dire, causing Bradley to transfer one corps to 6th Army Group, where at least it could be maintained through Marseilles. The impetus for thrust in any direction had been lost, for the immediate future at least. The priority now was to open Antwerp, without which the armies would be unable to sustain any major move forward.

Monty had no great enthusiasm for the ensuing operation to clear the Scheldt. It diverted him from what really captured his interest, driving into Germany as quickly as possible; and even as late as the second week in October, he was examining the possibilities of crossing the Maas into the Rhineland. However, the majority of the army group’s supplies were still being transported from Normandy by road, as the rail network was substantially under repair following the highly successful Allied bombing campaign, and the first railway bridge over the Seine was not rebuilt until 22 September. The opening of Ostend on 26 September and Boulogne on 14 October made a difference, but their combined capacity was insufficient to enable him to mount a major offensive. There was no alternative to Antwerp.

By the end of September the French Channel ports had all been captured, other than Dunkirk, which was invested by the Czech Brigade. This freed First Canadian Army to take on the Scheldt operation, beginning with an advance northwards from Antwerp by 2 Canadian Division on 1 October to seal off the neck of the Beveland Peninsula. The division made good progress at first, but was then held up by very strong defences, which were not reduced until the middle of the month. While 3 Canadian Division was given the task of eliminating the Breskens Pocket, 4 Canadian Armoured Division and the Polish Armoured Division completed the clearance of the south bank of the Scheldt immediately west of Antwerp. It was late October before the pocket was cleared and it became possible to mount both an amphibious assault across the estuary to South Beveland and an advance overland along the neck of the peninsula. At the beginning of November another amphibious assault by commandos took place on to the now flooded Walcheren Island, whilst the Canadians and 52 Lowland Division crossed from South Beveland. The defenders held out until 8 November, but four days before that minesweepers began the clearance of the estuary. The first coasters docked at Antwerp on 26 November and the first ocean-going cargo ships two days later and 85 days after the port had been captured.

On 27 September, following the end of MARKET GARDEN, Tac moved to Eindhoven, where it occupied a site close to the perimeter of the public park. Eindhoven was a good location for access to formations whose immediate priority was to close up to the Maas to the north and to the east. Good communications were at the centre of Tac’s operations, and the signals detachment was growing fast and would eventually be three times the size of its original establishment. Part of this was due to the numbers of men required to operate what became one of the most important pieces of equipment in the campaign, the Wireless Set No. 10. This was a technological masterpiece, a highly reliable radio station contained in a 2-ton trailer, providing eight telephone circuits. It required a clear ‘line of sight’ to the next relay station, which was usually about 20 but could be up to 50 miles away, so although either permanent structures such as the Phillips factory in Eindhoven or pre-fabricated 60-foot towers could be used to provide the necessary height, future Tac sites ideally had to be raised above the surrounding country. The set used a very narrow beam, which meant that it delivered the security of a telephone line. Monty, who called it his ‘number 10 thingy’, could now talk to Main HQ, SHAEF, the War Office or 10 Downing Street with complete clarity and the assurance that the conversation could not be overheard.

The most notable event which took place in Eindhoven was a visit by the King, who arrived on 11 October for six days, staying the nights in a caravan at Tac and travelling each day around 21st Army Group and to First US Army, where he met Eisenhower. On 15 October, the day before leaving, he held an Investiture at Tac. Sergeant Kirby had, as was his practice, developed a number of connections in the local community, which he used to great effect when asked by Henderson to provide a footstool and cushion. The former was donated by the local church, the latter by friends, one of whom cut up a red-wine coloured evening dress for the cushion, and they were duly produced after church parade on the day.

On 18 June Monty had written to the Military Secretary putting forward the names of some of his closest senior officers for awards ‘in recognition of the great and outstanding services that they have rendered’. These had been duly accepted and gazetted, but the recipients had inevitably been unable to attend an Investiture at Buckingham Palace. Dempsey and Freddie were awarded the KBE, Graham the CB and Belchem and Williams the CBE, the first two dubbed by the King whilst kneeling on the stool and cushion. A number of others also received awards made over the last year or more, with MCs, or bars if they had them already, for Harden, Mather, Poston and Sanderson and an MBE for Henderson.

The award of a knighthood to a major general was unusual, if by no means unprecedented. Freddie had unquestionably deserved it and Monty was by that time in such a strong position that the Military Secretary would have thought twice before challenging it. It did confirm to the outside world what the staff already knew, that Monty put a high price on Freddie and was deeply appreciative of the load which had been taken off him by his Chief of Staff.

The site in Eindhoven, unlike any of the others, was in the middle of a large town and the Tac officers made the best of it on the occasions when they were allowed to relax. A dance was organized, with the female sex represented by some local girls and by nurses from the Military General Hospital set up nearby. Monty was invited, but unsurprisingly declined to attend. On the next day, however, he was keen to establish what had transpired. Sanderson, as the only married officer among the LOs, was assumed to have played only a small part in the proceedings, so was invited for tea and pumped for information. As a result, Harden, always one of Monty’s favourites, probably for his outspokenness, was charged with being drunk and, when he denied it, was told that it was good for him from time to time. Poston was accused of monopolizing the same woman all evening and even sleeping with her. When he protested his innocence, Monty replied, ‘In that case, John, you must be slipping. It’s not like you to miss such a golden opportunity!’ These encounters were a good illustration of the nature of the relationship between the C-in-C and his LOs and personal staff.

Such light-hearted moments were far from rare at Tac, but there was much serious work still to be done as winter approached.