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Most Successful Operation

AT DAWN ON July 9, Captain Gordon Brown led ‘D’ and ‘A’ Companies of the Regina Rifles into the Abbaye d’Ardenne. Resistance was confined to a few snipers, who were not all eliminated until mid-afternoon. Dead and wounded panzer grenadiers were scattered throughout the complex.

At the former German headquarters, Brown found “a large military telephone exchange against a wall outside … but the operator was dead in the midst of the wreckage.” Brown took over the place for his company headquarters. Then he and ‘A’ Company’s Captain Bill Grayson walked over to a field northeast of the Abbaye, where Lieutenant Colonel Foster Matheson had established the battalion headquarters. Matheson looked less worn than he had the night before.

As Brown and Grayson were returning to the Abbaye, it was rocked by a salvo from German artillery near Carpiquet airfield. Lieutenant Al Law of ‘D’ Company—the first man inside the Abbaye the night before—was badly wounded. His runner lay dead.

‘D’ Company’s second-in-command, Captain Hec Jones, had found a basement where the German headquarters staff had stored a huge collection of wines. Jones led Brown to the room with the tidily made-up bed Lieutenant Jack Mooney had discovered the previous night. While Jones popped a cork from a bottle of champagne, Brown removed his boots. Then he drank a glass of champagne, crawled under the bedcovers, and fell asleep.

A mere hour later, a runner shook Brown awake. Top brass had shown up, the man warned. He led Brown to where a British general with several staff officers in tow stood staring out a glassless window towards Caen.¹ Brown had no idea the general was I British Corps commander Lieutenant General John Crocker.² Nonplussed, Brown looked about for Matheson to appear. Unshaven, covered in the filth of battle, Brown realized he was on his own. The general took one look, sniffed, and then snorted, “Are you in command here?”

Brown said he was and suggested that it would be good if “such distinguished visitors” stepped away from the window. He was keenly aware that a few snipers still lurked. Instead, the man glared out the window and pointed. “Look, man, look! There lies Caen like a plum to be plucked.”

Brown agreed that Caen was definitely there, a “massive pile of rubble as far as the eye could see.”

“Yes,” the general thundered, “it’s there for the taking. Good God, man, exploit success. Get your troops together and seize it.”

Brown responded “with a stream of less than respectful language. I made it clear that our battalion had just captured this place after losing almost half of our 500 infantry soldiers killed or wounded.” While his company had been lucky and lost only twenty-five, ‘B’ and ‘C’ Companies were decimated. “Further,” Brown exclaimed, “our Colonel tells me when to attack Caen or any other place. I just don’t on my own decide to take on the German army.” Harrumphing and snorting, the general led his coterie back to a cluster of armoured cars and demanded directions to Brigadier Harry Foster’s headquarters. After the vehicles left, Brown returned to the bedroom, drank more champagne, and caught another hour of dreamless sleep. This time when he was roused, it was to find Matheson had set up shop in the Abbaye.

Brown found Matheson standing at a large map, explaining to the other officers what the Reginas were to do next. The lieutenant colonel bowed at the waist and said, “Major Brown, I believe.”

Smiling, Brown looked at the three pips of a captain on his shoulder. “I don’t see a crown there yet, sir.”

“You will,” Matheson grinned. He then explained that 7th Brigade would follow 9th Brigade’s advance into Caen. The Reginas needed to be ready by mid-afternoon.³

WHILE THE REGINAS were making ready at the Abbaye, 8th Brigade had attacked Carpiquet airfield at 1000 hours. The Queen’s Own Rifles struck out of Carpiquet village for the airfield control-tower complex, and Le Régiment de la Chaudière advanced from Marcelet towards the hangars on the southern edge. As the Queen’s Own’s ‘D’ Company started out, it was struck by several shells that fell short from the supporting barrage. Several men were killed or wounded. One of the men killed was Lieutenant John Denison Dickson, who had just celebrated his twenty-second birthday the day before.⁴

Both regiments met very little resistance and were on their objectives within thirty minutes. The Chauds, however, found the hangar area so heavily sown with mines that it was mid-afternoon before they could report the area truly secure.⁵

Brigadier Ken Blackader was encouraged to think that the Germans had pulled back beyond the Odon River. South of the airfield, the ground sloped into a shallow valley, and Bretteville-sur-Odon stood adjacent to the river. Seizing the village would anchor 3rd Canadian Division’s right flank alongside that of the British 43rd Infantry Division, which was advancing on Verson. Blackader ordered the North Shore (New Brunswick) Regiment to take the village.⁶ Because the ground was so open, Lieutenant Colonel Donald Buell decided to keep everyone well dispersed. ‘A’ and ‘C’ Companies would lead, with ‘B’ and ‘D’ Companies following loosely behind. He sent the carrier platoon to show itself on the edge of the valley to the left, hoping this would divert German attention from the spot where the attack was going in. At 1525 hours, placing his headquarters’ carrier between the two forward companies, Buell ordered the men forward.⁷

The moment the carrier platoon showed itself, the Germans fired on it with heavy artillery. Seeing no signs of movement in the village below, Lieutenant Bob Currie signalled Buell that “Jerry was gone on the run.”⁸ When the main force came over the crest and began their descent, they were ranged on by mortars and 88-millimetre and 105-millimetre guns. By the “time the two reserve [companies] had started down the slope the shelling had reached a terrific pitch and it could be seen that ‘B’ and ‘D’ [Companies] were suffering casualties.”⁹

Buell jumped from his command carrier and ran over to steady some men who were wavering. No sooner had he left the vehicle than a shell knocked it out. Captain Harold Arseneau, the second-in-command, and the others aboard dragged the wireless sets free and jumped into a large shell crater. Looking back at the wrecked carrier, Buell smiled and started walking into the valley. Arseneau sent one signaller with the portable wireless to catch up, while he stayed in the crater with the larger wireless set, which was too heavy to carry.¹⁰

By sprinting forward during momentary lulls and throwing themselves to the ground when shells exploded nearby, the leading companies descended rapidly into the valley and broke into the village at 1630 hours. Forty-five minutes later, they reported Bretteville secure and that they were digging in under intense artillery fire and bracing for a possible counterattack. Inside Bretteville, the North Shores had met “very light” resistance. The “enemy had evidently moved out in a great hurry.”¹¹

Having endured endless shelling for four days in Carpiquet, the North Shores were subjected to what seemed even heavier artillery and mortar bombardment in this new village. Lieutenant Currie set up in a small house, until one of his men got twitchy and insisted they move to slit trenches. They had just finished digging in when “a direct hit blasted the whole interior of the place we had been in. A slit trench was as safe a place as a man could find in those towns.”

Captain Robert Robichaud thought the fact “that we had moved out of Carpiquet seemed to give renewed energy to the unit; the Carpiquet we [left] behind was a dreary place indeed as by this time all the trees were completely denuded of their leaves, and stood like soldiers on guard where so many gallant men had fallen.”¹²

WHILE 8TH BRIGADE had been seizing the airport and Bretteville-sur-Odon, 9th Brigade had thrusted towards Caen. The Stormont, Dundas and Glengarry Highlanders led the advance with a column consisting of its ‘C’ and ‘D’ Companies, four 3-inch mortars loaded on carriers, two sections of carriers, four 6-pounder anti-tank guns, and two sections of pioneers. Advancing from Château de Saint-Louet, the column was to pass through Franqueville and gain the Caen-Bayeux highway. It would then move through Saint-Germaine-la-Blanche-Herbe and into the city. Although running along a prominent ridge visible to German forces within the city and to the southeast, the highway offered the most direct route. All intelligence reports stressed that there would be next to no resistance and speed was imperative.¹³

Everything was rushed. Lieutenant Colonel G.H. Christiansen briefed his company commanders at 0500 hours and said they must be ready to move by 0730 hours. The “remainder of details,” he told them, would “be tied up later.” Even as the men bolted breakfast, organized their fighting kits, and headed towards the start line, Brigadier Ben Cunningham hectored Christiansen to hurry. The brigadier, Lieutenant Reg Dixon wrote in the war diary, “is most anxious that we push on … He is being pushed from higher formations. We work as urgently as possible, but we are very tired.” The 0730 start time passed, the Glens still shaking off a stupor from the past day’s combat and overall weariness from being on the front lines since June 6. At 0900, Christiansen signalled Cunningham that the column would not be ready until 0930 hours. Cunningham retorted that they were “to start at once.” Reluctantly, Christiansen ordered the Glens forward.¹⁴

Heading out, the column was joined by two tank squadrons of the Sherbrooke Fusiliers Regiment. Between them ‘A’ and ‘B’ Squadrons fielded thirty-four Shermans, and the tankers counted each Glen company as numbering only fifty-one men.¹⁵

As this weightier column lumbered forth, a second, nimbler one comprised of armoured cars from the British Inns of Court armoured reconnaissance regiment and ‘B’ Squadron of the 17th Duke of York’s Royal Canadian Hussars had gathered.¹⁶ Not tied to the highway, the armoured cars darted down narrow farm lanes and tracks in a race for Caen.

Confined to the highway, the main column advanced warily. After two miles absent resistance, Christiansen ordered the column “to proceed at the best possible speed, only deploying if fired on.” Christiansen noted that the Sherbrooke tankers kept pace on the left.¹⁷

Captain Don Scott, the battalion’s support company commander, provided direct liaison with the tankers. It was unappreciated duty because he rode in one of the leading tanks. Wireless linked Scott with Christiansen. Theoretically, this allowed tankers and infantry to work together. In reality, Scott’s wireless proved useless. But the tankers had started moving, and bailing out was not an option. Like most infantrymen, Scott hated the Sherman’s close confines.

As the tanks crossed the start line, Scott saw Brigadier Cunningham “waving the tanks on.” Scott grabbed a headset and announced he was in the tank. Cunningham said excitedly, “It’s you, Don. God, keep those tanks going. There’s nothing between you and Caen.”¹⁸

The brigadier’s words were not prophetic, as just in front of Saint-Germain, the advance ran afoul of a “belt of mines … across the road.” Then, when the pioneers came up to lift them, they were fired on from nearby buildings. At the same time, several tanks were disabled by mines. The rest stopped, but started firing on the houses.

With Scott’s wireless not working, Christiansen could not coordinate his infantry with the tank actions. The moment the tanks stopped firing, he sent a platoon into the houses. They “found only dead and wounded Germans.”¹⁹

‘B’ Squadron started advancing, but without Scott’s tank. A mine had blown a track, and thirty seconds later a shell struck close by. The crew commander told everyone to bail out. Leaving the tankers, Scott ran to rejoin the infantry. Behind him, the tank exploded.²⁰ Ranging from about two thousand yards, a German Tiger tank’s 88-millimetre had destroyed Scott’s Sherman and knocked out two more ‘B’ Squadron tanks. Seeing this, ‘A’ Squadron fired smoke shells to blind the Tiger and advanced a troop on either side of the road.²¹

With the tanks screened by smoke, the Tiger then turned on the infantry column, firing high-explosive that sent the men scattering off carriers for the cover of ditches.²² At 1245 the fire abated, and Christiansen ordered his other two infantry companies forward to join the advance.²³

The Glens bumped continuing sporadic opposition as they entered Caen’s outskirts. Each time, the tanks shot up the buildings the Germans were in, and the advance rapidly recommenced. Soon the column pushed into Caen proper and, at 1330 hours, Christiansen reported being “in the centre of town.” The tanks eliminated each small pocket of resistance. During these short, sharp engagements, the Glens were surprised by civilians emerging “out of cellars at the first lull, bringing roses and wine to the troops. The roses were gratefully accepted, but the drinking of wine during the action had been strictly forbidden and no soldier broke that rule,” Christiansen later claimed.

The destruction in the city increased with every yard gained. Soon the streets were so clogged with rubble the tanks could go no farther. The two leading infantry companies, advancing along parallel streets, repeatedly had to scale hills of debris created by collapsed buildings. At 1440 hours, they reached the Orne and s pread out between an old stone bridge on their left and a railway bridge on the right. Both had been blown, so gaining a crossing was impossible.

Within his occupation area, Christiansen was dismayed to find a large hospital—Hôpital du Bon Sauveur—containing “about 4,000 patients, far in excess of its normal capacity, most of them victims of the bombing of Caen.”²⁴

The Glens declared themselves the first Canadians into Caen, but they competed for that honour with ‘A’ Squadron of the 17th Duke of York’s—particularly with the Humber armoured car crew of Lieutenant A.E. Doig, Trooper K. Johnson, and Trooper L. Mathew.²⁵ The army’s official historian hedged his bets on the real winner by declaring that the armoured cars “had been little if at all in advance of the infantry.”²⁶ Doig had gained the river by weaving along various streets and alleys that were not hopelessly clogged by collapsed buildings or downed power lines. At the river he thought they might have won a bridge intact, only to find it blocked by rubble and covered by German machine-gun positions on the opposite shore. The rest of ‘A’ Squadron soon caught up and spread into defensive positions, from where they enjoyed shooting up retreating German forces that came within range. When infantry arrived, the armoured cars withdrew.²⁷

Caen “was a painful spectacle.” Only the “island of refuge” around the great Abbaye-aux-Hommes and the hospital had been spared destruction. This area lay within the sector the Glens controlled. It turned out the French Resistance had managed to warn the British not to shell this area, to avoid killing the thousands who had taken refuge there.²⁸

The Glens were welcomed as liberators. Roses and wine provided “a heartfelt welcome. It makes us feel proud to have had a small part in the relief of these, and other people,” Lieutenant Dixon wrote.²⁹ More importantly, only eight Glens had died this day.³⁰ But as they dug in alongside the river, unerringly accurate artillery and mortar fire started falling. The battle for Caen was not yet done.

BY NIGHTFALL ON July 9, all of 9th Brigade and two 7th Brigade battalions had moved into Caen. Although the other battalions entering the city suffered few casualties getting there, their positions along the river were subject to mortar and sniper fire. They were also beset by the usual calamities and accidents that occur when everyone carries a gun he is quick to use. Captain Gordon Brown’s ‘D’ Company led the Regina Rifles from the Abbaye d’Ardenne to Caen. Moving through the city’s outskirts, their attention was drawn to a large property surrounded by a stout fence with a locked gate. Not wanting to pass by a potential enemy fortress, Brown ordered a man to shoot the lock off. “The bullet broke and the larger part entered my neck, struck a vertebra just behind the throat and … remains there to this day,” he later wrote. This mishap hospitalized Brown for ten days.³¹ He was one of three Reginas wounded that day.³²

The Canadians were repeatedly finding civilians hiding in unexpected places. When Canadian Scottish Regiment’s Lieutenant Tom Butters and one of his men happened on a Frenchman harvesting vegetables from a Saint-Germain garden, the farmer led them to a deep mine shaft. Access was via a steel ladder anchored to one wall. Candlelight illuminated the bottom of the shaft. Butters saw that the shaft was sheltering a large number of women and children. Shouldering his bag of vegetables, the man prepared to climb down the ladder. Hoping to find some food to contribute, Butters patted his pockets, only to come up with a cigarette pack. He handed this to the man, who accepted it with much gratitude.³³

Along the banks of the Orne, 9th Brigade had tied in with soldiers of the 3rd British Infantry Division. West of the city, meanwhile, an 8th Brigade patrol out of Bretteville-sur-Odon had linked up along the Odon with 43rd British Infantry Division. Because 8th Brigade faced in a southeasterly direction away from Caen, British Second Army headquarters decided to place it temporarily under 43rd Division’s command.³⁴

The advance into Caen closed Operation Charnwood. With the objective won, Canadian divisional staff declared Charnwood “most successful … Again the [division] had risen magnificently to the occasion in spite of being a trifle war weary after thirty-five days steady front line fighting and no easy victories.” But the cost was high—1,194 casualties of which 330 were fatal. The 9th Brigade bore the brunt with 616 battle casualties.³⁵ The division’s total losses in the two-day period exceeded those of the D-Day assault. The 2nd Canadian Armoured Brigade fared far better, just two officers and eleven men killed, three officers and thirty-eight wounded.³⁶

Despite being personally exhausted from not having slept for forty-eight hours, Brigadier Ben Cunningham wrote a message to 9th Brigade’s troops before going to bed on the night of July 9.³⁷ “The determination, skill and bravery displayed by you in your battles for Buron, Gruchy, Authie, Saint-Louet, Franqueville and finally Caen is deserving of and is receiving the highest praise. You, one and all, may feel proud of the individual part you have contributed. The spirit of the 9th Canadian Infantry Brigade once more displayed itself. The result of the battle may be considered by each one of you as a personal victory; it was by your efforts the battle in our sector was won. You have proved by your actions that there are no better troops than yourselves. Of this you have never had a doubt; now it has been demonstrated to the world.”³⁸

But in fact 9th Brigade was unwittingly embroiled in a controversy over its performance in Charnwood. I British Corps’s Lieutenant General John Crocker felt Cunningham had been overly cautious, frittering away opportunities for rapid advances.³⁹ Agreeing, Major General Rod Keller asked Lieutenant General Harry Crerar on the evening of July 9 to fire Cunningham. The brigadier, Keller said, had repeatedly failed to “get-on,” while hesitating to commit reserves quickly. Cunningham’s “lack of drive” had cost the brigade heavily on July 8 at Authie and delayed its arrival in Caen.

Still dealing with the earlier criticism of Keller himself made by Crocker, Second Army commander Lieutenant General Myles Dempsey, and Montgomery, Crerar was exasperated. He told Keller to present Lieutenant General Guy Simonds with a full written complaint.⁴⁰

Crocker, meanwhile, was even more loudly demanding Keller’s head. Crerar knew the allegations against both Canadians must be addressed. But he decided to let Simonds resolve them. Crerar cautioned Simonds that Crocker’s way of working with Keller might not have “brought out the best in the latter.” He added that until Simonds was convinced that Keller’s judgment was sound, he could not “give weight to [Keller’s] views concerning his own immediate subordinate.”⁴¹ Simonds was to deal with these matters by July 13.⁴²

CRERAR ALSO REMAINED on shaky ground, as Montgomery continued to impede First Canadian Army’s full deployment. Whenever Crerar sought a firm date, Montgomery was evasive. In a note to the Chief of Imperial General Staff, General Sir Alan Brooke, Montgomery reiterated that Crerar was “a bad judge of men … and does not know what a good soldier should be. When I hand over a sector to Crerar I will certainly teach him his stuff, and I shall give him tasks within his capabilities. And I shall watch over him carefully. I have a great personal affection for him, but this must not … lead me into doing unsound things.”⁴³

Instead, Montgomery assigned both II Canadian Corps and I British Corps—eventually to be consigned to First Canadian Army command—to Dempsey’s Second British Army. This gave Dempsey responsibility for five full corps instead of the normal army maximum complement of three. Montgomery’s insistence that the bridgehead remained too constricted to permit deployment of another army headquarters increasingly strained credulity.⁴⁴

Saddling Dempsey with responsibility for five corps was not really an undue hardship, because Montgomery expected the corps commanders to operate independently during battle—turning to army command more for logistical support than operational guidance. Regarding the Canadians, Montgomery thought Simonds “far better than Crerar” and “the equal of any British Corps Commander.” He also had faith in Crocker. So there was no reason to let Crerar into the game.⁴⁵

Brooke, however, had acquaintance with Crerar and trusted his generalship. Isolating Crerar for much longer would not do, Brooke wrote Montgomery, because Canada’s government “will insist that Canadian forces should be commanded by Canadians … For that reason, I want you to make the best possible use of Crerar, he must be retained in Command of the Canadian Army, and must be given his Canadians under his command at the earliest convenient moment. You can keep his Army small & give him the less important role, and you will have to teach him.”

Brooke’s note forced Montgomery to abandon the hope of getting rid of Crerar entirely. But as all the Canadians in Normandy were at the moment coming under command of II Canadian Corps, national honour should be assuaged by having Simonds at its head. Now was not the time, he reiterated, to let First Canadian Army become operational.⁴⁶ Montgomery conceded to having Crerar exert “executive” command over the Canadians. This position played to Crerar’s strengths as an administrator. Crerar was strict on discipline, something he thought had slipped badly in the 3rd Division ranks. He ordered Simonds and Keller to exert a firmer grip. He fretted over the increased rates of venereal disease and battle exhaustion cases, suspecting that many of the latter were fraudulent. The cure for all these ills, he told Simonds, was strict discipline. Suspected cases of faked exhaustion were to be thoroughly investigated and the guilty men harshly punished to warn others not to try seeking “this way out.”⁴⁷

As for Crerar, even as he put his mind to competently performing the limited role Montgomery allowed him, he was seething with barely hidden outrage. Montgomery’s treatment, he believed, reflected the “Englishman’s traditional belief in the superiority of the Englishman.” No “Canadian, or American, or other ‘national’ [commander], unless possessing quite phenomenal qualities, is ever rated as high as the equivalent Britisher.”

Montgomery, of course, believed that Simonds possessed those “phenomenal qualities,” while Crerar was written off as “a most awfully nice chap” but one who was “very prosy and stodgy, and … very definitely not a commander.”⁴⁸

Simonds had commanded 1st Canadian Infantry Division under Montgomery through the Sicily invasion. By the time that campaign ended, Montgomery had developed “the highest opinion of Simonds … Briefly my views are that Simonds is a first class soldier. After a period with an armoured division,” he had written in late 1943, “he will be suitable for a corps. He will be a very valuable officer in the Canadian Forces as [there is] no one else with his experience.”⁴⁹