Arnhem

Longmate’s recollection was that it was as late as Thursday before his part of the column reached the bridge over the River Maas at Grave, by which time even a humble lance corporal like himself, not privy to the plans of the generals, could tell that they were a disastrously long way behind schedule. ‘And we still had 20 miles to go to Arnhem.’ There was still fighting going on when he got to Nijmegen. ‘Progress was terribly slow. We went round the houses, shelled all the time.’ They’d have to jump out of the vehicles and take cover underneath, then back in, move on, out and under again, and so on. They crawled across a railway bridge – ‘It was so slow. Shells were bursting everywhere and we were sitting ducks. I looked over the side at the water and it was moving very fast, and I can’t swim. I was very frightened. God knows how long it took us, but eventually we got to the other side, and there were dead Jerries and dead Americans everywhere.’

But, once over the Waal at Nijmegen, progress was easier and, for the first time, ‘we seemed to motor.’ It was a short burst of speed. Near the village of Elst, a German tank came into view and lobbed shells at them. ‘A tree in front of us simply shattered.’ Longmate and XXX Corps had run into the strong defensive screen of armour and big guns with which the Germans – on the offensive after their victory over the Airborne at the bridge – were blocking the direct route into Arnhem. At the same time, German forces were mounting a counter-attack against the Allies further back down the road, between Eindhoven and Nijmegen, in a pincer movement to split the British column in two. This was a critical moment. In the words of one military expert, Market Garden was now in serious trouble. ‘It was being strangled. The Germans had cut off the highways, the route to Arnhem was blocked, XXX Corps had no momentum, the American airborne divisions were being stretched and British 1st Airborne was being systematically destroyed. The Allies struggled on, making it difficult for the Germans to apply the coup de grâce, but they could only do this while they had strength, and that strength was ebbing away.’⁸

Horrocks was forced to change tactics. The bridge that had been his target had gone and was unlikely to be recaptured. His priority had to be reinforcing the beleaguered 1st Airborne in Oosterbeek, or, at the very least, saving it from annihilation. He redirected his front forces to the left flank, down country lanes and across rough, boggy terrain towards the banks of the Lower Rhine, from where they might be able to cross and rescue something from the ashes of Market Garden. Troops from the Household Cavalry were sent ahead to scout a route and make that initial contact with Sosabowski and the Polish Brigade at the village of Driel. A larger force followed.

So it was that Longmate and the Dorsets found themselves staring at the church tower of Driel away in the distance, standing tall above the flat expanse of land, criss-crossed with streams and dykes that led down to the Lower Rhine. As they approached, they could hear the sounds of fighting on the other side but, in all honesty, the lance corporal had no idea what was actually going on. Whether by accident or design, it seemed that the British command was not letting on about the true situation in Oosterbeek, though by this time – Sunday 24 September – it must have known, not least because the abrasive Sosabowski had given Horrocks a thorough rundown of what he knew about the situation on the other side of the river. But the lads who would have to do the dirty work were kept in the dark. ‘We didn’t know there were people over there who needed rescuing,’ Longmate recalled. ‘We had no idea about how bad it was for the paras and the Airborne on the other side of the river.’

Late that afternoon, they were told they would be moving off after dark. Though it was late September and ‘damn cold’, they were, without explanation, told to ditch their greatcoats for what lay ahead. ‘We were left wearing battledress, webbing, a small pack and helmet. I had an entrenching tool and my Sten gun.’ They were then directed into woods and down a track parallel to the river. ‘We came to a junction and were told to stop and rest. We waited and waited and I even fell asleep. Then a cry went up that the 3-tonners had arrived with the boats. ‘Boats? What boats, and why? We hadn’t been briefed about what we were going to be doing with boats.’

In the dark, with shellfire backwards and forwards in the air above them, the mystified Dorsets unloaded the plywood boats and then lined up for their orders. They were going through the woods, they were told, and down to the river. ‘No noise, no talking and watch your step. Then you are to cross to the other side and bring out as many Airborne as you can find.’