Jimmy Wainwright started his new job by learning the details of transporting SOE agents across the Channel in a Motor Gun Boat. There was nothing new or special about the operation of the MGB itself, but an item he was not familiar with was the surf boat. The surf boat was used to carry the agent from the MGB, anchored offshore, to the landing place on the French beach, called the pinpoint. Any returning agents or escaping airmen would then embark the surf boat and be transported to the anxiously awaiting MGB. Journeys in the surf boat were extremely hazardous due to many factors. The pinpoints were chosen for their remoteness and ruggedness to dissuade enemy sea patrols from approaching the shore. Rocks and shoals made navigation difficult, and, when coupled with strong currents and rapid tides, even the most expert seaman was hard pressed to make a successful landfall. And then there was the weather. Winds and waves came charging in from the North Atlantic creating surf that was merciless, particularly when running against the tide.
When not on an SOE mission, Lieutenant Harrington, CO of MGB 5700, liked to practice surf boat landings on the Devonshire coast. Jimmy Wainwright was introduced to this rather special rowing boat on one such training exercise. The boat was wooden and clinker-built, with a straight bow and stern that allowed rapid turn around but gave considerable drag. Two pairs of muffled oars with rubber-covered crutches kept the rowing noise to a low level. A long sweep oar at the stern was used for steering, and at times when the breakers were troublesome a sea anchor could be dragged for stability.
Harrington liked to time all surf boat practices. Time was critical when landing an agent. He demanded that the boat get in and get out with all speed, for his MGB was a sitting duck when anchored offshore. For the exercise, he stationed his MGB half a mile east of the Mew Stone. The surf boat was to make a landing on the beach near Kelly’s Cove.
“Come on men, get that boat in the water, pronto. You’re not pushing off from the Henley boathouse on a Sunday afternoon. Move, move!” shouted Harrington. “And make sure you hit the right part of the beach or you’ll be blown up by a mine. Remember, land between the two rows of barbed wire that run up the beach to the cliff. The wire has red ribbons on it; looks very pretty.”
The boat was launched and the two ratings who would do the rowing stepped in and prepared their oars. Next in was Sub-Lieutenant Jackson followed by Lieutenant Wainwright. The Sub was to show Jimmy the techniques he used for getting to shore, although he only had limited experience himself. Normally there was only one officer on the surf boat, and he had to be an expert navigator.
The beach was about 1000 yards away and a moderate sea was running. The wind from the southwest was freshening and there was a strong out-going tide. It was hard work for the oarsmen, but they were big, beefy fellows and well up to the task. Jimmy took the steering oar and knew that he was being observed closely by Harrington through binoculars. It took him some time to get the feel of the steering, but the rowers helped him out by loading their strokes so as to keep the boat going with the swell and not broaching. All went well until they entered the surf close to the beach. Jimmy missed seeing a large, submerged rock that caught the hull of the boat, swinging it around broadside to the waves but then quickly releasing it. However, stability had been lost and the next wave capsized the boat thirty feet from the shore. All the crew were thrown into the water, uttering every swear word imaginable. Cold and very wet they waded ashore, but were relieved to see that the boat had made it in one piece, albeit upside down. Jimmy had a moment of extreme embarrassment, but quickly recovered by helping the men and the Sub right the boat. An inspection showed that the boat was still seaworthy.
The sea-soaked crew pushed the boat into the surf and jumped in, muttering very uncomplimentary remarks about Jimmy’s helmsmanship. The ratings were pleased to be the rowers, for the strenuous exercise got their blood flowing again. Half way back to the MGB they took pity on the shivering officers and offered to exchange duties. This thoughtfulness took the officers by surprise, but they took the oars and gladly bent their backs. They went alongside the MGB without further incident as the crew gave them a rousing mixture of jeers and cheers. The soggy surf boaters went below to seek dry clothes and a hot cup of tea as they headed back to Dartmouth Harbor.
As the MGB tied up at the Westward-Ho base, a not-very-happy Harrington shouted to Wainwright and Jackson, “My office immediately!” The disconsolate pair followed Harrington closely, like scolded puppy dogs. In the office they stood at attention in front of his desk, waiting for what is known in military terms as a good bollicking.
“My God! I’ve never seen anything like it in all my born days. What the hell do you think you were playing at. Bloody amateurs! Incompetent, pathetic clowns! Sunday sailors, that’s what I call you. All you’re fit for is swanning around in a punt, and then I expect you’d lose the bloody pole. Jesus Christ!”
“Sir, it was entirely my fault, not Jackson’s,” explained Wainwright. “I failed to see a group of submerged rocks.”
“I bet you did, and in broad daylight. It’s going to be pitch black out there when we’re doing the real thing. How are you going to make out then? Turn over a boat full of agents?”
The redness in Harrington’s face from his risen temper slowly receded as he thought of the comical aspects of the capsizing, and saw the contrition of the two white-faced officers standing before him.
“OK, Wainwright, it was you’re first time, I know. Everyone is allowed just one screw-up in my outfit, but only then during exercises. Enough said; tomorrow’s another day. And I believe you did sink a tanker, Wainwright, by throwing a depth charge at it. You can’t be all bad.”
The landing exercise was repeated on each of the following three days and on the fourth it was done at night. Jimmy Wainwright did not make any more mistakes, in fact, he gained the full confidence of all crew members, including Harrington.
* * * * *
On February 11, Commander Braithwaite, who worked for the Deputy Director Operations Division (Irregular) at the Admiralty, informed the CO of SOE Operations Dartmouth that a cross-Channel delivery and pickup operation was planned for the night of February 14/15. Coded instructions would follow, and one MGB and crew should be worked up and confined to base. Close liaison with the C-in-C Plymouth and RAF Coastal Command at St Eval would be made.