of that period – a simultaneous attack by three different groups against Sirte, Tamit and Nofilia – the survivors, all now present in the briefing room, had made it back to the forward operating base after an epic trek across the desert, most of them practically crawling into their camp at Jalo Oasis. Though they never openly said so, they were proud of what they had accomplished and stuck together because of it, keeping themselves slightly apart from the other, more recent arrivals in the SAS Brigade.
Furthermore, as Sergeant Lorrimer knew only too well, the Originals had developed a low boredom threshold, and this had caused immense frustration when, at the end of 1943,1 SAS were returned to Scotland for training and operations in northern Europe. Initially they were kept busy establishing a base near the remote village of Darvel, east of Kilmarnock; but in May the following year the SAS Brigade had been moved to Fairford, where the men had been able to do little more than constant retraining in preparation for Operation Overlord. Small wonder they had become even more frustrated when D-Day passed without them. Now Lorrimer was hoping that what the CO was about to tell them would make amends for that.
‘Well, gentlemen,’ Captain Callaghan continued, ‘to end the suspense, we’ve been assigned a specific task in France and it commences forthwith.’
When the cheering, clapping and whistling had died down, the captain continued: ‘At this moment, General Patton’s 3rd Army is driving south towards Dijon.’
‘Mad Dog Patton!’ shouted Corporal Richard ‘Rich’ Burgess.
‘I wouldn’t let him hear you say that, Corporal,’ Callaghan admonished him, ‘because although he may seem mad to you, he’s a damned good soldier and proud of it.’
‘Sorry, boss.’
‘Anyway, to aid Patton’s advance, Montgomery has asked for airborne landings in the Orléans Gap.’
‘That’s us?’ Lance-Corporal Harry ‘Harry-boy’ Turnball asked hopefully.
‘No,’ Callaghan replied. ‘Our task is to soften up the enemy before the landings – and to distract them from the landings – by engaging in a series of hit-and-run raids against their positions. For this mission, Operation Kipling, you and your jeeps will be inserted by parachute in central France. Once you’ve all been landed, you’ll establish a base, lie low and make contact with the Maquis.’
‘Frogs?’ Lance-Corporal Neil Moffatt asked dubiously.
‘French partisans,’ Captain Callaghan corrected him. ‘“Maquis” is a Corsican word meaning “scrub” or “bush”. The Maquis are so called because when the Krauts introduced compulsory labour in the occupied countries, many men fled their homes to live in rudimentary camps in the scrubland and forests. Since then, with the aid of our Special Operations Executive and America’s Office of Strategic Studies, they’ve been engaged in highly successful sabotage activities behind German lines. They may be Frogs to you, but they’re a bunch of tough, courageous Frogs, so don’t knock them.’
‘Sorry, boss,’ Neil mumbled.
‘Good or not, why do we need ’em?’ Rich Burgess asked.
‘Because we believe their local knowledge will make them invaluable for planning raids, particularly those behind enemy lines.’
‘Are they troublesome?’ Sergeant Bob Tappman asked.
Callaghan nodded. ‘Unfortunately, yes, and for a couple of reasons.’
‘Which are?’
‘The Maquis are split between those who support General de Gaulle’s Free French and those who sympathize with the communists. Unfortunately, the latter believe, as do the communists, that de Gaulle is no more than Britain and America’s stooge, to be used and then discarded.’
‘Bloody marvellous!’ Corporal Reg Seekings murmured, then asked: ‘Anything else?’
‘Yes,’ Callaghan said. ‘A lot of the Maquis have shown more interest in storing weapons for after the war, to use against de Gaulle’s supporters, than they’ve shown in actually killing Germans.’
‘Beautiful!’ Jacko said, laughing. ‘I can’t wait to work with them.’
‘Also,’ Callaghan pressed on, ‘the SOE views the Maquis as its own concern, has its own teams to arm and organize them, and therefore won’t take kindly to us becoming involved. In fact, they’ve already unofficially voiced their complaints about the plan to insert us in what they view as their own territory.’
‘Well, stuff the SOE!’ Rich exploded.
‘I agree,’ said Bob Tappman. ‘Those sods don’t know anything about the real world. We can deal with the Maquis better than they can, so let’s go in and get on with it.’
‘Nevertheless,’ Callaghan continued, ‘even given these negative points, we do believe that with the advent of D-Day and the continuing advance into Europe, the Maquis will be more co-operative than they’ve been in the past. They’ll want the war to end as soon as possible…’
‘So that they can get stuck into each other,’ Jacko interrupted, copping a laugh from the other men.
‘…to enable them to sort out their differences,’ Callaghan continued, ignoring the interjection. ‘We’re banking on that.’
‘And what if it doesn’t work out that way?’ Bob Tappman asked bluntly.
Callaghan nodded to Greaves, then stepped aside to let his fellow captain take centre stage. ‘Where we’re going,’ Greaves explained, ‘the situation is changing constantly, so our own position there will be highly unpredictable. Therefore we have to be ready to change our plans at a moment’s notice. What I’m about to outline to you is a preliminary course of action that’ll be subject to changing circumstances on the ground.’
‘I love surprises,’ said Jacko.
‘I should point out, first thing,’ Greaves continued, ‘that we won’t be alone. The Special Air Service Brigade, consisting of British, French and Belgian components, was flown into France shortly after D-Day and has since set up a wide network of bases in Brittany, the Châtillon Forest, east of Auxerre, the area around Poitiers and the Vosges. Some of these groups are working hand in glove with the Maquis; others are out there on their own. Either way, they were inserted in order to recce the areas, receive stores, and engage in active operations only after our arrival.’
‘So when and where do we arrive?’ Bob Tappman asked.
In response, Greaves picked up a pointer and tugged the canvas covering off the blackboard, to reveal a map drawn in white chalk and showing the area of central France bounded by Orléans to the west, Vesoul to the east, Paris to the north and Dijon to the south. ‘We’ll parachute in here,’ he said, tapping a marked area between Rennes and Orléans, ‘and then make our way by jeep through the forest paths north of Orléans. The vehicles will be dropped by parachute once you men have landed. They’re modified American Willys jeeps equipped, as they were in North Africa, with twin Vickers K guns front and rear, supplemented with 0.5-inch Browning heavy machine-guns. The modified versions have a top speed of approximately 60mph and a range of 280 miles, though this can be extended by adding extra fuel tanks, so you should get anywhere you want to go with a minimum of problems.’
‘And
