The south coast was both wet and cold that January. We still trained every day but, after a five or ten mile morning run in full kit, we arrived back wet and cold. The rock climbing was even worse for slippery ropes can be deadly. It was fortunate we lost no men. Some other sections had injuries but we were lucky. With just one troop at Weymouth we often found ourselves training alone. Its advantage was that it brought my section closer together. In many ways it forged us into a hard and tough weapon. We had been under fire before now and knew how each of us reacted. The cold and the wet allied to the repetitious nature of our training was a different kind of adversity and we learned more about each other.
Gordy proved to be a perfect choice for Corporal. He was totally different to me. I think he was a better Corporal than I had ever been. He used humour to chivvy the men along and the section responded well to him. He could talk their language far easier than I could. No matter how much I tried I still sounded a little too posh. His skill with a rifle also gave him an edge. It had been his shots, in St. Nazaire, which had cleared the guards from the camp and enabled the prisoners to escape.
Ken Curtis had become the number three in the section. He had taken over from me as the bomber and demolitions expert. He had learned, again from me, how to improvise booby traps. As sergeant I now had other responsibilities and problems. Ken was also the signaller. I knew that I should have given that task to another but Ken could do both jobs really well.
Norm Ford was now the oldest member of the section. It made him a little grumpier at times but it also made him the one that the younger lads would go to with their problems. Perhaps I was too distant. I know that some of the section thought I was a different class to them; whatever that meant. I don't think they resented my background but it made them a little wary of talking to me about problems in their lives. Dad had not had that problem in the Great War; his background was the same as the men I now led.
Polly Poulson, despite the newer members of the section, always felt like everyone's kid brother. He was shy but he was also the most of loyal of Commandos. Everyone knew that Polly would never let them down. He was reliable.
Bill Becket had been wounded. It had changed him but in a good way. In our off duty moments he would find out all that he could about first aid and medicine. He hounded anyone who could teach him how to tend to the wounded. He was our first aider. Gordy and Ken referred to him as Doc. I think he enjoyed the accolade.
John Connor had also been wounded. In his case it made him enjoy life more. He was the one most likely to be off chasing skirts when we were off duty. He became something of a Don Juan. He had had a brush with death and it made him relish life even more. He was an even better Commando than he had been before his wound for he left Don Juan at home and focussed on being alive at the end of each mission.
Harry Gowland and George Lowe were both new. They fitted in well and they were reliable. Both had married at the outset of the war and, although neither was a dad yet their young wives and the letters they exchanged filled their off duty hours. As yet neither had a particular skill although both had shown themselves to be handy with ropes. The problem with the Commandos was that you never knew what skill you might need. You had to think on your feet. The important thing about our newest Commandos was that they fitted in and there was no friction.
Daddy Grant returned towards the end of that cold wet month. Reg Dean had warned me of his imminent arrival and the whole section was waiting for him when he arrived from the station. He looked thinner and he favoured his right side rather than the weaker left. Otherwise he was the same. His pipe jutted from battle dress pocket and he had a big smile for us all.
"You didn't think a couple of German bullets would keep me away did you? I might be a cripple but I reckon I can still run the Quarter Master's stores and keep an eye on you!"
Everyone bombarded him with questions. He fended them all well. Then he looked at Gordy, "Well done, Gordy. I am pleased for you." Then he turned to me, "And you Tom, Sergeant and the Military Medal!"
Gordy and the others turned, their jaws dropping. "You got the MM! Why didn't you say anything Sarge?"
I had not told anyone in the troop. The Major and Reg Dean knew. If I had said anything it would have sounded like boasting. I shrugged, "It is just a bit of fruit salad. You should all have one."
Gordy shook his head, "We are the only section to have someone who has won the Military Medal! It is not just about of fruit salad!"
When Daddy and I finally dragged ourselves away from them I said, "We kept your room at the digs."
"I know. I dropped my stuff off before I came here."
"Are you all right, I mean," I tapped my head, "in here."
Daddy and I had trained together and faced bullies and thugs together. We could talk this way. We understood the problems that the mind could create.
He nodded, "I realise that I am just lucky. The arm and the shoulder just ache now and then; especially in the wet. And this has been a cold couple of weeks. The doc wanted to give me another month off but, you know me, I couldn't sit on my arse doing nowt. Besides it's not as though I will be exerting myself issuing clean underwear to Commandos is it. Another thing is that our lass is made up that I am not in danger anymore." He tapped me in the chest. "You stop worrying about me! Worry about yourself. You are a good lad but you take too many chances. You have a future."
"What do you mean?"
"It's as plain as the nose on your face; you are a leader. I saw it when you were making decisions that Major Foster should have made. The brass aren't totally stupid. One day someone will realise that and you will be an officer."
"I am not sure."
He smiled, "Yes you do Tom Harsker so no bull between old mates eh? And now I had better get to the stores; see what kind of mess it is in!"
As he walked away I wondered if he was right. The Major and Reg Dean had said something similar. I had not joined the RAF because I did not want to be compared with my dad. If I was an officer then I would be.
We had no specific officer assigned to train with us. Sometimes it would be Major Foster, sometimes Captain Leigh. More often than not it would be Lieutenant Marsden. He was a likeable young officer. The greenness had begun to wear off him. He had a raid under his belt and I knew, from his questions, that he envied the experiences of me and my section. That was perhaps his weakness. He might, under fire, defer to the sergeant. Dad had told me that a leader led.
Our new recruit, Alan Moore, arrived on the first day of February. He was young. Polly was no longer the baby. He came from London and had that cheeky arrogance and confidence which seemed to be imbued into every Londoner. He told us he could not wait to get at Jerry and pay them all back for bombing his beloved city. As most of the section were northerners that arrogance grated a little but Gordy's humour diluted Moore's comments and made them seem harmless. I exchanged a look with my Corporal. Gordy would gradually modify the behaviour of Moore if only to retain the harmony of the section.
By the end of February our newest member had found his feet. When the lads went to the pub he strutted and was not shy of telling the others how he would sort the Germans out 'good and proper' when he got the chance. It was Ken who put him in his place. His next whinge was about the lack of action. When the rest of the section turned on him he realised that he was outnumbered. I was not there when these events happened, neither was Gordy. The section had their own code; Ken told us about them and how the section had dealt with him. They had told him in no uncertain terms that he was lucky to be in the best section in the whole of the Troop and that, until he had earned the right to be called a Commando, he should keep his mouth shut.
I spoke to Daddy about it as we walked back to the digs. "We were lucky with the section Tom we were given when we were first promoted. They were all good lads. We trained them. This is a new boy and he is different. You will have to work on him."
Events transpired to delay that work. The new recruits were sent, at the start of March, to Ringway to complete the parachute training. They went with the other sections who had not received it. Moore went with them and just two sections were left at Weymouth. Ken was quite happy to have Moore away for a couple of weeks. "No more 'cheeky chappy' and Cockney wisecracks! If I hear 'up the apples and pears' one more time I will smack him one!"
Polly said, in all seriousness, "I don't think he is a Cockney, Ken!"
"All Londoners are Cockneys. They all think they are Max Miller. Now George Formby he can make me laugh."
"I prefer Stan Laurel."
"There you are, two northern comics, proper comics!"
The debate, such as it was, went from Moore's deficiencies to the merits of comedians. Harmony was restored.
Things had shown signs of going well in the Middle East. The Italians had all but been defeated and then Churchill had sent some of the better troops to Greece to help them. We had heard that the Germans were now in North Africa and that they were pushing us back. We read about this in the newspapers and it caused much argument. Some thought Churchill was wrong and that we should fight one enemy at a time. Others would not hear a word said against our charismatic leader. I said little; Dad had been in the Middle East and no one had heard from him for months.
The rest of the troop arrived back at the beginning of March at the same time that we heard of the success of the rest of the Battalion. Lord Lovat had landed on the Lofoten Islands and many German prisoners had been taken as well as destroying much of the seal oil used to produce glycerine. Their aeroplanes would suffer as a result. It was a vital part of the cooling systems of the fighters. It was a boost akin to winning the FA Cup. We had not been with Lord Lovat but we had trained with these men and they were like our brothers. Their victory was our victory.
Even as we were celebrating Quarter Master Sergeant Grant gave me a warning, "We just received some new equipment, Tom; shorts and lightweight summer gear. Some poor sods are going to get their knees brown."
He was proved right. I was summoned, along with Gordy, to a meeting in the Headquarters building. This time there was no one else but the Sergeant Major present. "Take a seat lads, Major Foster and Lieutenant Marsden will be along in a moment."
"What's it about Sergeant Major?"
He shook his head, "I thought you knew me better than that Sergeant Harsker. All in good time. What I will say is that you and your section were asked for. It seems that your name is becoming known in Whitehall." He straightened his blotter a fraction. "And I think you will miss your meeting with the King too." He smiled enigmatically.
The door opened and the two officers entered laden with papers and maps. We jumped to our feet. "Sit down chaps. We have a great deal to get through."
Lieutenant Marsden began to pin a map up. He was doing it badly. Sergeant Major Dean tutted and said, "Let me sir!"
I saw that it was a map of the Mediterranean. That explained the desert clothing and equipment which were now in the stores.
The Major smiled, "Smoke if you wish." Gordy was the only smoker and he lit up. "As you may know General O'Connor had almost defeated the Italians in Libya when the Greek thing started. He was sent back to Cairo before the job could be finished. Herr Hitler sent troops to Tunisia and Libya. They have pushed us back to here." He pointed to a line about seventy miles from the Egyptian border. "It is called the Gazala line. General Auchinleck thinks he can hold the Germans there until we can send more tanks, fighters, and men to him. The Germans are also short of tanks. Now, ordinarily this would not be of any concern to us save that the Germans have captured some of our senior officers who were in the forward areas when the German advance began. General Carter and two of his staff officers are being held in German Headquarters at El Agheila." He pointed to a coastal town some hundred miles behind the German front lines. "The town was in our hands just before the attack. It was considered captured." He sat down, "Your job is to go and get them out."
This was Gordy's first such meeting and I could see that he wanted to say something but felt out of his depth. I asked for him, "Sir, by the time we get to Africa they could have been moved; sent back to Germany, anything."
"If you were going by sea then that would be true but you are leaving tonight, by air. At Gibraltar you will transfer to a modified bomber. You will go in by parachute. By this time tomorrow you will be there. If they have been moved it will be damned unlucky. I know it is a tall order but you were asked for as a section. Lieutenant Marsden will be the officer who will lead."
I turned and saw the eager look on the Lieutenant's face. "I am sure we can do it, Sergeant."
"How do we get out, sir? As we have found out before getting in is easy but getting our can be a trifle difficult."
I saw the Major take a deep breath. "You will need to steal a vehicle. You are to drive out across the desert. Your skills as a sailor and a pilot will help you, Tom, and Lieutenant Marsden has done desert training. The hard part is stealing a vehicle." He smiled, "We did it in France and it worked out well eh?"
I didn't point out that it had been an accident. We would have to find and steal one without being detected.
"Sir?"
"Yes Corporal?"
"Won’t there be guards and such?"
"The Headquarters is in an old colonial hotel, the 'Antiqua Roma'. It is on the outskirts of the town. The RAF flew over it and they say there are about twenty people there. That includes clerks as well as soldiers. They have vehicles there too." He added as though it would be simplicity itself to steal one.
I stood and went to the maps. One showed the building the prisoners were being held in while the other showed the route to safety. "Sir, do we have to stick to this route back to our own lines?"
"Well no, Sergeant, but this is a route which has been produced by great minds and it will be Lieutenant Marsden's decision to deviate."
"Sir, with respect, I am not certain what a bunch of officers with a little bit of red around their collar tucked away in London know about sneaking around behind enemy lines. We both know that you have to be flexible."
Lieutenant Marsden said, "It sounds like you have got cold feet, Sergeant Harsker. Don't you want to go?"
"It is not up to me is it sir? But I want a chance to get out of this alive rather than being a glorious gesture. I have a good section and it would be stupid to throw it away because of a decision made in London. All I want to know is do we have flexibility? Suppose we find a boat we can steal? Would that be an option? What if it is close to an airfield and we can steal an aeroplane? All I am saying is that this road is the only one, apart from the coast road and it may well be swarming with Germans and Italians. If it is we would have to go a different way."
I had stunned the two officers although I saw a wry smile on the Sergeant Major's face. Lieutenant Marsden reddened, "Well I am a little disappointed, Harsker. I thought this would have been right up your street. Isn’t this how you got your medal?"
That was it! The Lieutenant was glory hunting. "Sir, I got my medal by doing my job. I didn't set out to win one. As far as I am concerned I don't need medals to do the job I do."
The silence in the room made everyone but the Sergeant Major uncomfortable. He still had a smile upon his face. That surprised me for my attitude was not, necessarily, what they had all expected. Major Foster broke the silence. "Your section has the best chance of succeeding Sergeant Harsker. If it were otherwise I would send another section. If you have to deviate then that will be Lieutenant Marsden's decision. Is that clear?"
I stood, "Of course sir and if that is all the men need preparing and I daresay we have new equipment and ammunition waiting for us."
The Major nodded and Sergeant Major Dean said, "Sergeant Grant has it waiting for you. Report back here when you and your section are equipped."
As we left Gordy said, "That wasn't like you Sarge. What is the problem?"
"You mean apart from the fact that we have to break into German Headquarters, rescue high ranking prisoners, steal a vehicle, and then make our way across the desert?"
"Put together that does sound a tough one. But we can do it."
"Of course we can. But we need to be flexible and I am not certain that Lieutenant Marsden has enough experience yet. We have not fought with him up to now. I think he has only been on one raid. If it was Major Foster then I would be more than happy. He has a cool head under pressure." I shrugged, "We follow orders and do as we are told. Go and fetch the lads. I will be at the QM stores."
What had really made me so irritable was that the Lieutenant suddenly looked and sounded like the Hooray Henrys who had been at the Officer Training Course in Manchester. What would he be like under pressure? I put that to the back of my mind as I entered the stores. "You were right Daddy. We are the lucky boys who are off to sunnier climes."
He nodded, "I knew before. I have packed a bag for each of you lads to make it easier. There are extra canteens too and dried rations. You have enough for a week. There is twice as much ammo and grenades for you." He shook his head. "I wouldn't like to carry that lot around with me in heat."
"Luckily we don’t have too much walking to do."
"And there are spare canteens and salt tablets in every pack. You will need those. I stuck a couple of little petrol stoves in too. They are light and all you need is to steal some petrol."
"Stealing petrol is the least of our worries, Daddy."
"You don’t seem happy about this Tom."
"You know me; for King and Country and all that. It's just that we have an unknown quantity with us this time; Lieutenant Marsden."
"We had the same problem with Lieutenant Reed and he proved to be a good 'un."
"You might be right. We will have to see."
There was a noise outside as the section came in. "What's up Sarge? Gordy told us bugger all!"
"And I will tell you precisely the same Private Curtis. Pick up a bag each, get your weapons from the armoury and meet me at the headquarters."
Private Moore asked, "Where are we off to?"
"When we are in the lorry I will tell you Private now cut along will you?"
The Major and Lieutenant Marsden walked in after the section had left. Daddy said, "Here you are, sir. Everything that you will need."
He grabbed his bag and left without a word. He was tight lipped. I hefted my Bergen as Major Foster said, "Give us a moment eh, Sergeant Grant." Daddy nodded and, taking his pipe went out of the back door. "Look, Tom I know what it is. You are worried about the Lieutenant but I can assure you he has received top marks in everything."
I nodded, "I think he will be a great officer sir but for this one I would have hoped for someone with more experience." I hesitated, "Like you."
"Thank you for that compliment. I would love to be there but I have to prepare the rest of the troop for another big raid. We are stretched at the minute."
"I see sir. Well in that case I am sorry for my attitude back there." I tapped the stripes, "Perhaps you ought to take these sir. Maybe I'm not cut out for this."
"You are and all that you said was understandable. I am relying on you to guide the Lieutenant. You will be a fine team. He is new but he is bright as they come and he will adapt. I did. Lieutenant Reed did. You are the most experienced sergeant we have and that is why you were chosen for this. If anyone can get them out it is your section." He looked at his watch. "You had better push off now."
The rest of the section was in the lorry as I arrived with my guns and Bergen. The Lieutenant was seated in the front with the driver. Sergeant Major Dean nodded, "You look after them, Sergeant. All of them!" he nodded towards the cab.
"Will do Sergeant Major."
I dumped my bag in the bottom of the lorry and took a seat at the back close to the tailgate. It was the least smoky part of the lorry. I took off my beret; I would be leaving that with the rest of my kit. "Right lads, we are moving now so I can brief you. We are going to Africa."
I let that settle in. There was a buzz of conversation. I saw money changing hands. They had been gambling. "This will not be easy so pay attention. We are going to fly to Gib and change aircraft. We are going to parachute behind enemy lines and rescue some high ranking officers from German Headquarters. Then we steal a vehicle and drive over four hundred miles through the desert to reach British lines."
I let that sink in. Private Moore broke the silence, "You are having a laugh ain't you, Sarge?"
Gordy shook his head, "No me old cock! He is not."
"There will be guards there, that is obvious and I daresay we will be extremely lucky if we are able to avoid having to use our guns but I want us as silent as we can be and delay the inevitable. Curtis, we have no explosives to worry about but I know that we can improvise some booby traps when we are there. The biggest problem, as I see it, is stealing the vehicle."
George Lowe said slowly, "If it is any help, sir I was four years into a mechanic's apprenticeship before the war. I can fix most vehicles."
I clapped him on the back. "That is the best news I have had all day. As of now, Lowe, you are in charge of all things mechanical!" The young man beamed.
Bill Becket said, "What is going to be a problem sir is the water. Or should I say lack of it as well as dehydration."
"We have salt tablets in the packs and we need to conserve water whenever we can."
"We will spend the time in Gib going over the maps. Aeroplanes are a bit noisy and, besides, I think we all need to try to get some sleep if we can."
We pulled up less than ten minutes after I had finished speaking. The flap opened and a seaman said, "Right this way gents." I saw that we were not at an airbase but by the sea. We were going in a seaplane. I saw the huge Short Sunderland bobbing up and down on the water. I worked out that we must be in Southampton Water.
"Quick as you can, sir. The pilot wants to get off as soon as he can." The airman pointed to a Nissen hut. "You can change into your gear over there if you like. We have been ordered to send your kit back to your base in the lorry."
We went into the hut and all began to strip off and put on the shorts and tropical gear. It was chilly but when we reached North Africa then the temperature would soar. I was pleased to see that the Lieutenant was not self conscious about changing with us.
I used one of the spare bags and held it open. "Right lads, letters, documents and anything incriminating in here. If we are caught it is name rank and serial number." They all deposited their items in the bag. I handed it to the airman. "Make sure this is safe eh?"
"Will do Sergeant. Right lads time to board."
We waited for the Lieutenant to lead us aboard. The young lieutenant who was the pilot greeted us cheerily. "Good show! Cloak and Dagger eh? Makes a change from stooging around looking for damned U-Boats. Get aboard and next stop Gibraltar. It should take eight hours or so. You have time for a sleep and my chaps will have some hot food for you too. We have beds and a galley! First class service!"
His crew were equally cheerful. The interior of the huge aeroplane actually had a couple of bunks. It would certainly be more comfortable than a Whitley. The Short Sunderland was positively luxurious compared with the Whitley and was much quieter. The take off was barely noticeable. We saw little of the crew for the first few hours. The gunners were all in their turrets for we were flying, in daylight, close to the coast of France.
Soon after we had taken off Lieutenant Marsden waved for me to join him. Some of the men were asleep in the bunks whilst a card school was the focus of the rest. "I thought we should chat, Sergeant. I think we got off to a bad start."
"Yes, sir. Sorry sir."
"No, it was my fault. I was so gung ho and enthusiastic. Too much so I am afraid. You were right to be cautious. The problem is, Sergeant, that you and your section have become so successful that I think I assumed it would be a breeze. The major had a chat to me. I now see what you meant."
"I didn't mean any disrespect, sir."
"I know and I will be relying on you heavily. I know the theory but the one raid I was on was led by the Major. Like you he is something of a legend."
"I have known the Major for some time sir. He is solid and dependable."
"I want you to feel free to offer an opinion. I know that this is foreign territory, quite literally for me."
I patted my bare legs. "Well sir, this is a first for all of us. Northern France is quite familiar but the desert? I can foresee problems that we don't even know will be problems."
He nodded, "Well Sergeant, I am glad we had this little chat. I wanted the air clear between us."
"Yes sir and don't worry about my feelings. I have thick skin and I always prefer the truth."
I left him and went to a quiet corner near to the starboard side blister to study the maps. I knew the value of having the maps in my head. I spent half an hour studying the various routes we might take. What worried me was that some of them were just dotted lines which told me they were tracks. I had never been to the desert but I knew about shifting sand. My compass might be our salvation yet.
A shadow approached and I looked up. It was young Moore. I looked beyond him to the card game which was still in progress. "You had enough of cards?"
He shook his head and sat down next to me. "They were taking the micky out of the way I speak. I don’t think they like me."
I put down the map. "Listen Alan what you have to know about these lads is that they have been together a long time. They know each other. You, well, you come over a bit strong and cocky." I held up my hand, "I am not saying you are but to them you sound cocky. You know what I am saying?"
He smiled, "I suppose you are right. The trouble is me old man legged it when I was a nipper. Mum brought me up on her own and she worked every hour God sent to keep a roof over our head and food on the table. I grew up on me own. I had to be cocky to survive." He held out his fists. "I used these a lot and when they didn't work I tried to be a funny bugger. It's why I joined the Commandos. They seemed like me, tough and able to look after themselves."
"And they are but there is something else; we look after each other. You don't need to prove yourself to these lads. They will take you for what you are. Look on them like your mum. Your mum always wanted you to do well didn't she?"
"I'll say. She was as proud as punch when I went home in my uniform."
"Those lads feel the same. They want you to be the best Commando you can be for if you are then they have more chance of surviving. You are the new boy so just be a bit quieter and listen a bit more. Gordy was like you when he started. He has learned not to be so, well, full of himself." I smiled, "I'm not having a go at you here Alan. This is just advice. I joined up when I was younger than you. I learned to listen more especially to lads like Gordy, Norm, and Ken who have been around the block a couple of times."
He nodded, "Thanks Sarge and I won’t let you down."
"I never thought for one moment that you would. And listen if you get a bit scared when we go into action don't let it worry you. We all do. You just don't let it overpower you. Use the fear. It will keep you sharp."
As he returned to the others I berated myself. I should have had the chat in Blighty and not while we were ten thousand feet above the Bay of Biscay. I was responsible for that young lad. I was pleased I had had the talk for it now gave me an insight into him.
Once we neared the northern coast of Spain they went to the galley and made us corned beef hash and cocoa. The Royal Navy liked its cocoa. We got on really well with the crew. They were intrigued by us for they had not transported Commandos before and my section was fascinated by this huge flying boat. It seemed all too soon that we were descending into the black pool that was the Mediterranean. The pilot taxied us over to a floating jetty where a Royal Air Force officer awaited us. We gave a cheery farewell to the Coastal Command crew who had looked after us so well. We were now as far away from home as I had ever been. As we followed the airman, laden with our belongings I could even smell the difference. There was an exotic warmth and fragrance to the air. A lorry waited for us at the road and, once again we were whisked into the night.