The SCOURGE of the NAZIS

Press, Volume CIII, Issue 30482, 2 July 1964, Page 24

The SCOURGE of the NAZIS

BROOD, SWEAT AND FEARS, 1942

• In this, the fourth of six. • extracts from the war mem~< • oirs of Brigadier Jeremy Jonquil, the reader is taken' far behind the scenes while' ' the planning of (he famous' Diepp.’ raid was in progress.' ’ Even in this vital matter,' .Jonquil had his own ideas. , In the modern vernacular, he insisted on playing it, . cool. Even, later in the year,, when it was decided to start, something at El Alamein,, Jonquil, against stiff opposi-, turn, kept firmly to his. opinion that the spectator' sees most of the game.

Early in 1942, I was seconded to the Navy. There was evidently some feeling among senior officers of the Senior Service that the Army could not spare me, but they were persuaded otherwise. I suspect, once again, the intervention of a former Naval Person. At all events, I severed, temporarily, my intimate connexion with the War Cabinet and reported enthusiastically at Portsmouth on February 10. Almost immediately, I was blamed for the escape from Brest of the Scharnhorst, Gneisenau and Prinz Eugen and, I must confess, I should not really have taken it on myself to alter that all-important meteorological report simply because I recalled, my old governess at Bedford Square having told me “red sky at night, shepherd’s delight” and there-

fore assumed it was going to be fine next day. Evidently the R.A.F. had produced the red sky and I feel I rather lose face over the whole trivial business. It was therefore withsome relief that I heard the War Council —I assume it was the War Council—wanted me to spend a few months with the U.S.A.A.F, or the Army Air Corps, as we used to called it. They

were planning, with their usual efficiency, their first air raid on Europe and it was intended that I should go and hold a watching brief on the affair. This took place, ultimately, on July 4, a date which seemed to have some particular significance for our American Cousins. Those at Little Dodderingham, where I was based, who were not actually taking part in the raid, became, if I may say so from this

gulf of time, somewhat liquored up, which caused them to thrust me, at the last moment, into one of the Flying Fortresses just before take-off, without a parachute, but with some remarks about bloody Limeys which I considered to be in particularly poor taste.

Before I knew it, we were crossing the Dutch coast, and it was clear to me, from the nasty little puffs of black smoke whipping past, that if I did not take some immediate action my not inconsiderable contribution to the War Effort might be ended before it found its full fruition. I was not without the gift of enterprise; and in the darkness of this great thundering machine

It was the work of minutes only to arrange that the bomb bay doors could not be opened. This gave me a moment or two of unease when we came In to land back at Little Dodderingham; but I felt the risk had to be taken if I was to continue to do my best for my King and country. After writing out a full report of the Americans* first raiding effort, I found myself back in the Army, in which the Top Brass was all in a tizzy about the coming Dieppe raid. Although my whole war record, as someone said at the time, pointed to a somewhat singular ability at a very specialised form of camouflage, my personal part In the planning for Dieppe consisted only in the arrangement of supplies of bicycle clips for despatch riders. However I can say, In all modesty, that the job was well done. It was discovered, only at the last moment, that no bicycles were to be taken; and it would have been foolish to have left those cases full of clips—which Incidentally, had been written off by the A.S.C.—to rust. I made a very satisfactory sale.

I was, however, there when they went forward at El Alamein. The bombing In London had been decidedly unpleasant, and I felt my place was beside the gallant men of the Eighth Army. I got there, through a subterfuge which the Ministry, even now, will not permit me to discuss and as the men went out behind that frightening barrage of 1000 guns, I patted several, personally, on the shoulder, and lent them warm words of encouragement One had to do what one could. (To Be Continued)