November 11, 2010

Canadian soldiers were itching for action but not this.

They expected battle when they arrived in England in 1939. But after three years of preparing for a German invasion that never came, who could blame them for being bored to tears? The endless training exercises were beginning to sap morale and self-esteem. Even their British girlfriends were having doubts.

To add insult to wounded pride, the Americans had just entered the war and might see action before the Canadians. Canadian commander Lieutenant General Crerar lamented "it will be a tragic humiliation if American troops get into action before Canadians, who have been waiting in England for three years."

That's when Crerar and his boss, General McNaughton, got wind of a raid on Dieppe across the English Channel. As junior allies, the Canadians didn't have much say in the raid but they were eager to participate. Canadians were given more say into planning as the British plan developed.

The raid was to take place on the German-held port of Dieppe in France. The British commander, General Montgomery, was also under pressure to do something. Their Russian allies were being pummeled by the Germans and they would welcome a distraction from the opposite flank. Montgomery was keen to test his plan of an amphibious assault across the channel and so he ordered the attack to take place on July 1, 1942. Uncertain of his own plan, he thought the plan might succeed if the weather was right, if the troops were landed at the right places, and if the troops had "average luck." The raid was cancelled due to bad weather and Montgomery was shifted to the Middle East.

Plans for the raid now fell into the lap of British Vice Admiral Lord Mountbatten. Short of any new ideas, he decided to try the same thing but one month later; a foolish idea considering that it was common knowledge that soldiers had talked openly in pubs and on the streets about the cancelled Dieppe raid and that the talk had probably got back through spies to the Germans.






 

But commanders were eager to act no matter how imprudently. They hoped that Germans would not believe the same attack, with the same soldiers, would be attempted a month later. With more bravado than common sense, commanders hoped that "given an even break in luck and good navigation," the raid "should" succeed.

So under cover of darkness in the early morning of August 19, 1942, the 2nd Canadian Infantry Division set out in landing ships for the fortified port of Dieppe. Little they know that before noon, 907 would die on the beaches, 586 would be wounded, and 1,946 would be captured. Things went wrong even before they landed. The ships came across on a small German convoy and fire was exchanged, alerting the Germans at Dieppe and removing the element of surprise.

Surprise gone and good luck in short supply, they landed on the beach 35 minutes late as the dawning light made them easy targets. German soldiers were ready and waiting high up on the cliffs. Machine guns and mortar cut down the Canadian soldiers and their bodies littered the beach. Survivors vainly scrambled up the cliffs against all odds.

British tanks landed but quickly bogged down; they had never been tested on loose-rock beaches. The slope of the beach had been incorrectly estimated from a tourist's picture. British machine guns, called Sten Guns, were prone to jamming and accidentally discharging.

Historian Jack Granatstein is blunt. "The operational plan was unrealistic in the extreme - - every problem was wished away for the fear the raid might be cancelled and the Canadians not get their chance."

Canadian soldiers were sacrificed in a triumph of incompetence over reason. It was the utmost stupidity to attack a defended port where cliffs dominated the beaches. Where else would the Germans put their firepower? Clairvoyants would have done a better job of scouting the landing site or even better, English tourists who frequently visited the beach only 100 miles away.

Back in England, nothing mattered except that reputations be saved. Mountbatten's expert public relations team proved superior to his military one. They claimed that the raid had been a great achievement and a learning experience. They were right about that. It was a lesson on how not to conduct an amphibious assault; a lesson Canadians should never forget.

David Charbonneau is the owner of Trio Technical.
He can be reached at dcharbonneau13@shaw.ca