Operation Mercury Read online

  At first the Allied soldiers had thought the initial rumble of aero engines was nothing more than their daily dose of strafing arriving, but it quickly became apparent that this was something altogether more serious. As Private Peter Butler of 22nd Battalion, recalls:

  The morning of the 20th was fine and sunny and calm, there was no early morning strafing, we’d stood down, and while we were waiting for breakfast I was ordered to take the daily parade state to battalion headquarters on or near the top of the hill. I had on my web gear, no pack and carried a rifle. As I left the siren sounded but there was no sign of aircraft. About a quarter of an hour later the siren sounded again and I thought that was strange; there must be a big one coming. I couldn’t remember being told this was the invasion alarm. By this time I was at headquarters, and bombing and strafing started and really worked into quite a noisy show. This, I guess, went on for about twenty minutes and then stopped. There was a strange silence. I came out of the slit trench and looked around. Apart from a few fires on the ‘drome there was no visible damage. Shortly, a distant roar of engines could be heard approaching from the north and then from over the sea came the sight of countless planes from as far east to as far west as could be seen, from horizon to horizon. The roar became louder and louder until they were overhead.3

  Quite close, WO Les Young was at breakfast with the 21st:

  Breakfast was served at the usual time, I think 0730 hours and immediately after breakfast the men in my battalion were engaged in sharing out papers and parcels which had arrived late the previous night and which were addressed to personnel who had remained on the mainland of Greece. While this was going on a roar was heard in the sky and over came ME109s, Dorniers and Stukas and commenced strafing and bombing the area all around. There was a terrific din and the sky was black with planes. Apart from an odd bren gun I did not hear any ack ack [anti aircraft] fire. They were followed very shortly by the lumbering JU52s and ghostly gliders.4

  Sweeping in at under 400 feet, beneath the elevation of the heavier AA guns, the Junkers kept in tight formation until they reached the drop zones, then the air blossomed with a blizzard of colour – pink or violet denoted an officer, O/R’s black, weapons, white. This was a vast aerial armada, the like of which had never been seen before, a Wagnerian chorus of thundering engines and myriad planes, filling the vast blue of the eastern Mediterranean sky like giant, metal locusts, a plague; the judgement of God.

  The dispositions of the New Zealan 5th Brigade about and on Maleme aerodrome immediately preceeding the attack on 20th May

  [Freyburg] stood out on the hill with other members of my staff enthralled by the magnitude of the operation. While we were watching the bombers, we suddenly became aware of a greater throbbing in the moments of comparative quiet and looking out to sea with the glasses, I picked up hundreds of planes, tier upon tier, coming towards us. Here were the huge, slow moving troop carriers with the loads we were expecting. First we watched them circle clockwise over Maleme aerodrome and then, when they were only a few hundred feet above the ground, as if by magic, white specks mixed with other colours suddenly appeared beneath them as clouds of parachutes floated slowly down to earth.5

  This vast airborne fleet, sweeping in from the sea to deluge Crete, was the culmination of Student’s dream, the final working of his theories on vertical envelopment. The General in Athens might be heartened by the sight of his creation springing to awesome life but he could not be unaware of the risks; failure would, at best, end his career.

  If the 3.7-in guns couldn’t register, the Bofors, manned by the marines, certainly could and they fired till the barrels glowed red. The slow moving transports were a gunner’s dream and the shells tore through metal and flesh, dismembering men and aircraft in mid air, slain parachutists tumbling ‘like potato sacks’ from the wrecked fuselages.

  Hanging from telegraph poles, caught in trees, dumped in ditches, the dead bodies of Fallschirmjäger, the corpses swelling, putrid in the heat, a new feature of the island landscape. Was this to be the face of vertical envelopment? Scarcely what its creator had envisaged.

  One of the prime weaknesses of the German tactical approach to parachute operations was the poor design of the harness. The lines were fastened to a webbing harness that held the wearer suspended as he dropped. He had the ability to use the personal weapons he had with him, but could not influence the course of his descent. Once the chute opened he was at the mercy of man and the elements till he touched down. From the ground, Charles Upham saw clearly just how vulnerable the Fallschirmjäger could be:

  The easiest sort of warfare in the world. If they landed where you were or within range of where you could get to they were just sitting ducks, they had no chance. Of course the whole object of parachute troops is to land them where there isn’t anybody – out of sight. Once they get on the ground and regroup they’ve always got the very best of weapons and things like that. But while they’re in the air – gliders and paratroopers in the air – oh, they’re the easiest things in the world to bring down.6

  The bombing and strafing that preceded the attack was over but Stukas and Me109s still prowled the skies, ready to provide close air support and pounce on targets of opportunity. Unknown to Student a copy of the parachute training manual had been recovered from an earlier assault the previous year and the defending troops were thus versed in the principles of immediate counter-attack at every point of landing to prevent concentration. This was the moment of maximum danger for the parachutists, scattered, disorientated, separated from officers and weapons.

  If the defenders were at first stunned and awed by the power and noise of the assault, they very soon recovered. Peter Butler continues:

  There was perhaps a minute’s awestruck inactivity while people realised what was going on, then firing started from all over the area. Some paratroopers were firing machine pistols as they came down but this stopped quite a way from the ground and it appeared the majority were hit while still in the air. The gliders around us fared little better. They came in so low one could not miss. I saw one man firing a bren from his shoulder literally tearing a glider to pieces – bits were flying off it. It landed about twenty yards from me and only one man came out. He only made about two steps before he was cut down.7

  This rapid response did not occur west of the Tavronitis where the western flank of Major General Eugen Meindl’s assault on Maleme landed unopposed; Major E. Stenzler’s 2nd, and Captain W. Gericke’s 4th Battalion of the Luftlande Regiment, accompanied by two heavy weapons companies with anti-tank guns and mountain howitzers; with them Lieutenant P. Muerbe and a commanded party of a reinforced platoon whose job was to secure the extreme western end of the island by taking Kastelli and the half finished airfield there.

  Major O. Scherber with 3rd Battalion, divided into company sized groups and dropping along the line of the road between Pirgos and Platanias, comprised the eastern flank whilst the centre was left to glider-borne detachments under Majors Braun and Koch. The sedate, huge winged aircraft, swooping silently like prehistoric creatures, had spilled around the banks of the Tavronitis, ready to disgorge troops and their heavy equipment and guns. Their task was twofold; Braun was to silence the Bofors guns at the dry mouth of the river and secure the bridge; Koch to assault Hill 107.

  As the lumbering transports began to appear over Maleme airfield, Major Rheinhard Wenning, in charge of the actual dispatch of the airborne troops:

  … suddenly with a terrible sound my plane lurched forward and I could just see out of the corner of my eye that the right wing of the plane on my left was touching our wing. It could have been serious because obviously that pilot was concentrating on what was happening on the ground and didn’t realise his plane had drifted into mine. We averted disaster by lowering our flap and banking to the right.

  Then:

  As we brought the planes down to the required height of 150 metres above ground, and slowed to 160 km per hour we could see in front of us the first parach
utes swelling out, then, in rapid order, more and more … then Captain Wenndorf gave the signal for the jump by our unit by pointing a yellow flag through the roof of the cabin. Seconds later repeated shocks shook the plane, a sign that our parachutists were jumping out … I looked down at the ground and saw one parachutist after another landing down there in an area which I can only describe as very difficult; mountain formations, very rugged and chalky, vineyards, olive groves, and dry fields, with small villages and narrow roads. Everywhere in this landscape were the countless white spots of parachutes, in trees or on the ground, where the soldiers had discarded them. And I could see parachutists moving into position and the first fighting erupting.8

  Both Bofors and Brens should have taken a fearful toll, but it was mostly these lighter weapons that did the killing, shredding the fragile gliders. A deal of dispute hangs over the question of why the heavier guns at Maleme proved ineffective. There is consensus that the heavier AA guns did not fire at all. It may have been, as has been asserted, that the weapons were lacking parts, though other witnesses record test firing for several days prior to the invasion being successfully carried out.

  A number of defects seem to have played a role: the guns were badly sited which made them relatively easy targets for the Me109s. The batteries were poorly camouflaged which added to their vulnerability and the arc of fire expected was too wide; better positioning of the individual pieces would have permitted a better concentration of fire.

  These shortcomings were particularly acute at Maleme where the AA guns were deployed to cover the airfield itself:

  Since the effective range of the Bofors is little more than 800 yards, the gun positions were of necessity near the fringe of the aerodrome, and, in consequence most conspicuous and vulnerable. As soon as we were no longer able to operate from the aerodrome the role of these guns had changed. Their primary task should then have been to deal with troop carriers trying to land. They would have fulfilled their task much more effectively if they had been disposed irregularly at a distance from the aerodrome.9

  Above the strip heavier guns were dug into the hillside. Their job was to act, not only in an anti-aircraft role, but also to cover the beaches – again the pre-occupation with a landing from the sea dominated defensive strategy. In the event these pieces proved useless as the barrels could not be depressed sufficiently to fire on the German transports, ideal targets as these were. The troop carriers came in, sticking to their low altitude, from the south, swinging in over the land to turn before the drop. No gunner can have had a finer target.

  Any number of reasons, many of them sound, can be advanced as to why the available guns, which should have been more than adequate, were so badly sited: lack of transport, the difficulties moving the weapons under constant bombardment, but the primary reason was that the defensive planning was firmly fixated on an attack from the sea. To that extent Student’s plan for vertical envelopment had worked. The concept was so breathtakingly audacious, it had clearly reflected its creator’s genius for innovation.

  Quite early in the confused and savage battle for Maleme, upon which the fate of the island garrison was to hinge, a spirited German attack from dead ground overran the Bofors, though the New Zealand infantry of C company held their ground and inflicted further, significant loss. D company’s Brens riddled Braun’s gliders, killing the major and many of his men. The survivors fell back toward the bridge where the lie of the ground afforded some cover. Here they were able to gain a lodgement and secure a precarious grip on the bridge itself. Some made it to the periphery of the airfield.

  Koch’s assault group fared no better. The gliders landed in two detachments straddling the opposing slopes but the fire of the defenders again accounted for many of them; those on the north eastern flank were also exposed to fire from 21st and 23rd Battalions. Koch too, became a casualty and was carried, dying, by the dazed survivors as they fell back behind the sheltering banks of the Tavronitis.

  The 3rd Battalion transports swept in over the north coast in a roar of massed propellers, in the expectation the Bofors guns would have been taken. The aircraft were mercilessly raked, several shot down, many others damaged and the tight formation flying began to disperse. The parachutists, spewing in disorder over a four mile stretch of coast road, rock and scrub, landed directly on the positions held by 21st and 23rd Battalions, as Les Young laconically recorded:

  …the thought flashed through my mind how like the opening of the duck shooting season in New Zealand. The sky soon became full of parachutes in various stages of opening and descent and the shooting was good. I saw very little attempt on the part of any Hun to shoot back during his descent. Up to this stage I fail to see how any enemy could have landed unless wounded or killed. In fact it was a concentration of some of the best small arms fire I have ever seen. When targets failed to appear in the sky pot shots were taken at the doors in the sides of the Ju52s to try and get the first man before he made his jump. Good ack ack could not have failed to make a record bag. As it was, small arms fire seemed to be worrying both pilots and parachutists considerably as the planes would circle us, sheer off, and make a second attempt to land in the scheduled area.10

  Scherber himself was amongst the many dead that littered the ground. Lieutenant Colonel Leckie, the Battalion commander, personally accounted for five of the intruders. A vicious firefight spluttered on for a couple of hours but the Fallschirmjäger were decimated and ruined as an effective detachment. A few managed to fortify houses below Modhion and hang on, but the attack was broken.

  For the parachutists this was the stuff of nightmares; it would be immediately obvious to even the most dim witted that their intelligence estimates were grievously flawed and that the number and mettle of the defenders was infinitely greater than had been promised. As the men, already parched and sweating profusely in their wool kit (no allowance for tropical issue had been made), scrabbled for their weapon containers many were shot down or bayoneted before they fired a round. The survivors, leaderless, took to whatever cover they could find, in handfuls and rally groups, huddling in dried up stream beds, disorientated in the horticultural jungle of endless olive groves.

  Sergeant Bill Ritchie found his morning routine unexpectedly interrupted:

  [I] had just gone to the toilet and being in a paddock of grapevines in the open I was unable to get back to my unit and was certainly caught with my pants down. A parachutist dropped near me and all I had with me to deal with him was a spade; fortunately I got him before he got out of his ‘chute. All hell seemed to be let loose as paratroopers appeared all around us. Corporal Brunning was seen to riddle a troop-carrying glider full of parachutists with his bren gun and the plan crashed at the back of Canea.11

  German intelligence had completely misread the strategic realities which obtained on Crete. They seemed to have come to the wholly erroneous conclusion that the Allies were in the process of pulling out and that the campaign would therefore be a ‘walkover’. Their awakening was to be most rude:

  In view of the shipping movements in the first half of May, Air Fleet 4 considered it possible that British troops had been moved from Crete … concerning the attitude of the population of Crete and members of the Greek and Cretan army, the High Command was of the opinion that there existed the possibility that influential circles desired the ending of the war and the extension to Crete of the favourable terms which had been arranged on the mainland with the German forces. It was considered possible that the British, in view of the attitude of the population, were evacuating the island.12

  Moreover, their intelligence had also misled them over the sympathies of the natives who rushed out, armed with whatever they could, and set about the invaders with a fury. Nazi Germany’s Aryan elite were, in some cases, hacked to death by fearless Cretan housewives or blasted by ancient shotguns. To add to their dismay a re-supply flight of Junkers, cruising in during the late morning, dropped significant quantities of arms and ammunition, including machine guns, mos
t of which were gratefully received by the defenders.

  Eugen Meindl was forty-nine; old for a paratrooper. Like Student he was the living embodiment of the paratrooper ideal – fearless, resolute and always at the forefront. The position in which he found himself as the morning wore on into the hot, dry afternoon of 20 May was one that would have daunted any commander. His detachments had failed to secure any of their key objectives, they were scattered over the sector in penny packets, casualties were obviously dire, the strength, will and skill of the defenders formidable.

  One of Andrew’s most exposed forward units was D Company, less than seventy-five riflemen, bolstered by a couple of machine guns. Undeterred by the awesome parade of transports, the Kiwis shot down all those who were unlucky enough to land within range. Those landing west of the river were, however, relatively safe.

  Stenzler’s men, west of the Tavronitis had been able to form up relatively undisturbed and these represented the only intact formation on the field. Meindl therefore began to consolidate what he had, exploiting the meagre gains to dig in on the perimeter of the airfield. To try and retain some element of the initiative he ordered Stenzler to detach 5th and 7th Companies, swing around to the south and storm Hill 107 from this direction. It was a bold move and a desperate one, but both Meindl and his adjutant, von Seelen, were shortly afterward disabled by wounds. Gericke now took command.

  The 22nd New Zealand Battalion had so far borne the main brunt of the onslaught and had given a first-class account of themselves. Nonetheless, as the morning wore on into the afternoon, their position became increasingly uncertain. Waves of Stukas screamed down upon their hilltop trenches, the harsh clatter of machine guns heralded yet another strafing run from a cruising Me109. The men were suffering from the stifling heat, exacerbated by a dwindling water supply.