Schwere SS-Panzer-Abteilung 101 (Schwere SS-Panzer-Abteilung 501)
27 August 1944: Three Tigers in action with Kampfgruppe (Oberst) Schrader of the 49. Infanterie-Division along the road Tilly-Vernonet. Tiger 221, in the lead, is knocked out from behind a bend in the road at close distance by a six-pounder antitank gun with the new sub-caliber armor-piercing rounds. It catches fire, which results in a total loss. A short time later, the second Tiger follows up, destroys the antitank gun and wipes out D Company of the 1st Worcestershires. The remaining British escape, panic-stricken. Because the German infantry does not follow up, the Tiger withdraws and is later abandoned. Total tanks: 6.
All foot soldiers fear tanks and, in the Allied army, everyone feared Tiger tanks most of all. In consequence, every enemy tank became a Tiger. They had achieved a position of awe in the minds of the troops. The Tiger was virtually invincible. Its thick armour and large 88mm gun made it capable of withstanding the fire of any Allied tank and all anti-tank guns (bar the 17-pounder) except at suicidally short ranges. All large German tanks – Panthers, Mark IVs and even some self-propelled guns – were often mistakenly labelled as being Tigers by the British infantry.
Battle Group Schrader’s clash with the 1st Worcestershires – Sunday 27 August 1944.
Battle Group Schrader had managed to infiltrate both flanks and was engaging ‘D’ Company with machine-guns. The fire was coming at the Worcestershires from out of the thick undergrowth, making it difficult to pinpoint; it was both heavy and accurate. The carrier section was pinned down on the right, losing its commander, who was killed. All around, the enemy continued to press forward, the intensity of its machine-gun fire increasing. The Germans soon overtook the leading platoon of the Worcestershires and began enfilading their positions from both sides. Casualties quickly began to mount. The second platoon was likewise engaged by more unlocated enemy to the left of the road. It countered this fire with the help of an armoured car whose heavy machine-gun fired continually into the trees, sweeping the area, searching for the unseen enemy. Then a message from the leading platoon reported that a second Tiger tank was moving down the road. ‘D’ Company was in real danger of being over-run.
Although the enemy soldiers on either side could not be seen, their approximate locations were known. Word was passed back to the mortars and artillery and soon trees and undergrowth on both sides of the road began erupting into flames, as high-explosive shells crashed down. Any likely gathering places were given as targets, with the hope of keeping the enemy on the move. The whole of the left flank was on a lower level, overlooked by everyone on the road right back to battalion HQ. It was a simple matter for all available guns to keep pouring an incredible amount of fire down into the valley. To Colonel Osborne-Smith, this side was not seen as the main danger; he could confidently stop any enemy movement along the densely wooded valley. His most immediate problem was the high ground on the right and the commanding hilltop in particular. He already had ‘C’ Company up there on the slopes, but this hill still seemed to be wide open to any enemy flanking movement.
Major Grubb had also spotted the danger. He had no doubt that the narrow road was not the place to be; he felt that down there you could not stop anything and in any case there were far too many bodies already milling around. Grubb decided to take his company up onto the hill.
Algy Grubb was a company commander who believed in a certain amount of theatre to keep his men going. He tried to give a ‘larger than life’ impression in the way he approached things. Experience had taught him that the private soldier would always stand firm if his officers were there with him when things became serious, especially if the officer was outwardly showing little concern at events. Grubb had two personal bodyguards: Joe Cook, his sixth batman since arriving in France (who, incidentally, made it through the rest of the war with him) and George Bromwich, a dustman from Leamington Spa. Bromwich was unique; he had never done a day’s training in his life. He was the company bootmaker and turned out to be one of the finest soldiers Grubb had ever come across. The major never went anywhere without the two of them. ‘When you saw us going along with a trailer, with all the guns you could think of – not that we could use many of them – it looked just like Al Capone.’
Grubb’s task was to stop any of the enemy who tried to come through the woods on the hilltop, and he had already decided just how he would do it:
I intended to collect all my company’s Bren guns together and string them up so that anyone who came over the hill could bloody well have it. We had thirteen Bren guns and four 2in mortars in the company. An exercise we had performed at the Infantry Training School was to demonstrate the firepower of a battalion. We would line up the whole battalion along a ridge in front of some water and then get everyone to fire their weapons at the same time. It was an impressive sight to see the water erupt into millions of fountains. Somehow I could see all that in my mind and so I decided that if I grouped all my firepower together, then the enemy would have a bit of a job to get through.
In effect, Grubb split his company into two groups, as opposed to the normal structure of three platoons. He decided to lead the first group to the top of the hill, whilst his second-in-command, Captain Noel Watkins, came up behind with the riflemen and took up a position just short of the crest.
I took the company HQ’s Bren gun myself, whilst my two ‘bodyguards’ carried my ammunition. The hill was very steep, thick with trees at the bottom near the road, then a grassy slope and finally another sprinkling of trees at the top. At the bottom of the hill, the battalion’s 3in mortars were lined up under the control of Jock Bannister. They were in the layby near the monument. The mortars were pumping the stuff over the top of the hill. They had been firing continuously and they had all overheated. What was happening was that as soon as a mortar bomb was put into the barrel, its primary charge was igniting and the bombs were falling only twenty yards away. This in itself was safe enough, for there has to be a projection of ‘X’ yards before the bomb is fused and could explode, but the mortars somehow had to be cooled down. Jock Bannister lined up his men and got them to pee on the barrels by numbers! As we set off up the slope, I shouted to Jock to keep the bloody things going!
Halfway up the hill Grubb was surprised to see a company dug in. This was the third company, ‘C’ Company. The company commander was as surprised to see Grubb as Grubb was to see him. They didn’t say anything, but it did occur to Grubb that it was rather a silly place to be and he thought that it was something and nothing in such a position. At, or about, that moment and close by the mortars, Grubb met Major Tony Benn, the battalion’s second-in-command. He was a regular soldier of the East Yorkshire Regiment, who had joined the battalion a fortnight earlier. Grubb had got to know him well and greatly admired him. Benn remarked that the whole action had developed into chaos, as was usual, and asked Grubb what he was going to do about it. Grubb replied that he was taking his company up on top of the hill. ‘I reckon that that’s about right, mate,’ Benn replied and set off down towards the road. It was the last time Grubb was to see his friend.
Down on the main road, the leading company was being pressed by a second Tiger, moving slowly forward into their positions. The tank’s machine-gun was firing at the British infantry dispersed along the verges and amongst the trees. This time it was the Tiger that had the upper hand. The anti-tank gun covering the road, the same one that had been so successful just a short while earlier, was being harassed by yet another enemy machine-gun. Accurate fire was forcing the gun crew to keep their heads down. Manoeuvring cautiously round the previously knocked-out German tank, the second Tiger turned on the exposed 6-pounder before the small gun could get off a shot. The shell from the tank’s massive 88mm barrel smashed into the Worcestershires’ gun, reducing it to a pile of twisted metal, killing all the crew. Next, the German heavy locked its sights on the 6-pounder’s carrier; that too disintegrated into a pall of smoke and flame. A few moments later another blinding flash and a heavy armoured car from the reconnaissance regiment met the same fate.
To match an armoured car against the heaviest of German tanks was no match at all. Just this one shell from the Tiger blasted the car off the road. Amazingly, Sergeant Barraclough and the crew all scrambled out safely with no more damage to their persons than superficial injuries and a severe shaking. The great tank continued to lumber on down the road unchecked, seemingly invincible.
The German tank was carving its way into the heart of ‘D’ Company. The leading platoon had already suffered thirty per cent casualties, including their commander. There was no room for the British infantry to deploy off the road, for the company had been forced to halt at an awkward spot not of their own choosing. With the arrival of this second tank, their position had become untenable. Permission was requested for a withdrawal; it was immediately granted. The company was ordered to pull back through ‘A’ Company to a new position where it could establish a much firmer base.
Back at battalion HQ there was better news. A troop of Sherman tanks from the 4th/7th Royal Dragoon Guards had arrived from the ferry site. One of the tanks was a Sherman Firefly, sporting the mighty 17-pounder gun. Given the right opportunity and a bit of luck, it could be a match for the Tiger. In one of the other tanks was ‘A’ Squadron’s commander, Major Jackie Goldsmid. After getting the latest news from the battalion commander, Goldsmid sent the Firefly up the road with a view to engaging the German tank, should it get too close to the battalion HQ.
Meanwhile, the Tiger had halted on the road to wait for its protecting infantry to keep abreast of it (they were trying to push through on the Worcestershires’ right flank, on the slopes of the hill). Every vehicle in sight on that short stretch of highway was destroyed. The stationary Tiger had become the complete master of the battlefield.
Even though the tank had halted, the hull machine-gun kept up a non-stop stream of bullets sweeping along the road and its verges. With great difficulty, word was passed forward for ‘D’ Company to begin its withdrawal to a more secure part of the road. At this point, the battalion was most vulnerable.
In ones and twos, hugging closely to any cover that was available, the infantry from ‘D’ Company tried to slip back down the road. During training, a withdrawal is conducted under very strict drill; the whole exercise is accomplished bit by bit, everyone covering each other. In reality, a battle progresses in perfect chaos. Seldom, in action, does anything ever go right; so it was on this occasion. ‘D’ Company had to pass through ‘A’ Company’, which was dug in to the rear on either side of the road. The men started to fall back through the trees that lined the steep verges. Once clear of the enemy, they moved a little more openly, a little faster. Behind them was the rattle of the Tiger’s machine-gun and the roar of its engine. The men of ‘A’ Company were suddenly confronted by their own troops hurriedly withdrawing through their lines and heading for the rear. It was too much for some of them; they jumped up and joined in what, on the face of it, appeared to be a general retreat.
For a few moments, control was lost. Some of the infantry were running back down the road, others were moving quite openly through the trees on the right-hand side. Major Tony Benn, the battalion’s second-in-command, tried to regain order. He stood up in the open, urging the men off the exposed road and back into cover. At that same moment, the Tiger started to move forward and rounded the bend, turning its machine-gun fire on those men in the road. Caught in the open, they were mown down like skittles. Regardless of the danger around him, Major Benn cursed and bullied the fleeing troops to a halt, forcing them to stand firm and cover the road. It was one of those selfless acts of heroism that was sometimes needed to steady an awkward situation. The officer set a brave example. Brave but tragic, for, just as order had been restored, Benn was hit. He died instantly.
Watching the whole episode from near his tank was Major Goldsmid, who remembers Benn as ‘a very brave and courageous man’. He saw the effect that Benn had on the panic-stricken Worcestershires and was deeply impressed by the way he restored order. He was also saddened by the sudden death of the officer just as he had taken control of the rout.
The Tiger once again came to a halt in the middle of the road and waited. The Worcestershires immediately opened up with small arms fire, peppering the tank’s thick armour with bullets. They could do no harm to the four inches of hardened steel that protected the German crew, but their attention served to illustrate how vulnerable the tank now was, being so far ahead of its protecting infantry. The Tiger quickly reversed back round the corner and stopped. Everything on the main road now seemed to pause whilst both sides took stock of the situation.
The two advancing columns had met each other head on and it did not seem likely that either side was going any further along the road that day. However, up on the hilltop on the Worcestershires’ right flank, Battle Group Schrader was still pressing forward.
Near the top of the hill, just below the crest, Major Grubb laid out his Bren guns behind a small bank. He positioned himself in the centre and his four 2in mortars six paces behind. There was no sign of life, no firing, nothing. There was clearly nobody there. He hadn’t been there long before Captain Noel Watkins sidled up and lay down beside him. Grubb asked where the riflemen were and Watkins replied that they were still at the bottom of the hill. Grubb’s orders had been misunderstood; Watkins had come up alone to find out what was happening and join in the fun.
Grubb then put his head up and looked around and sank down; there was still nothing to be seen. He then broke one of his own golden rules; he looked up over the bank in exactly the same place again.
One of the basic lessons of infantry fieldcraft, one that was religiously taught everywhere, was this: get down, crawl away from where you were, observe the enemy, then fire. Down, crawl, observe, fire. This was because if you were under enemy observation, went down, then lifted your head in the same place again, the enemy could be waiting for you. As Major Grubb had stressed over and over to thousands of trainees at infantry training school, where he was once an instructor, NEVER look up in the same place twice. However, on top of the hill that day he forgot his own maxim; he did look up twice in the same place and the consequences were exactly as he had warned others. A burst of machine-gun fire raked the top of the bank. For the first time since landing in France, Grubb was hit, but Algy Grubb was a man who was born lucky and his gift did not desert him that day.
I could never get on with a steel helmet, I don’t think anyone really could, because they cut into your head so. Now, the regimental hatter of the Worcestershire Regiment was Thomas & Stone in Jermyn Street. They made nice hats. They also made what looked like a polo helmet, although not as big, which was in fact a skull cap made of cork. Yo u were measured for it and it fitted exactly. It had pieces of rubber tubing sewn on around the base to cushion the steel helmet which rested on top. With this cork skull cap you could wear the steel helmet all day long, just like a cloth cap.
The first bullet hit Grubb right in the middle of the front of the helmet and went straight through. It then hit the cork skull cap and was deflected upwards, furrowing along the cork until it finally went out through the top of the helmet. The second bullet passed through his coat collar and set fire to his tunic. The force of the bullet’s impact bowled him over and knocked him out. The enemy machine-gun was only fifteen paces away, shielded behind a mound.
Major Grubb came to a few seconds later to find himself staring at a German stick grenade just a short distance away from him. Then some more came over, all landing quite close by. It was too late to do anything but press himself flat into the dirt. ‘If you laid flat as possible you were usually safe, the blast normally went upwards. We used to demonstrate this during training. We would put balloons down and let off grenades near them. Rarely would a balloon burst. As long as you kept your head and laid flat, you were usually OK.’
One grenade exploded, then another and another. Grubb by this time felt that the whole thing was somehow becoming a personal little battle, with him on the receiving end. He called for all the grenades and started throwing them, but he couldn’t get the range. (It was difficult to throw a grenade lying down, unlike the German stick grenades, which had a long handle; they could be thrown a good distance from a prone position.)
On the spur of the moment he ordered Captain Watkins to take command of the Bren guns and then crawled back to his 2in mortars. He took over one himself, directing the crews of the others to pass him the ammunition. The range was only about twenty yards and this necessitated the barrel of the weapon being almost perpendicular (a very hazardous thing to do with a mortar). The first ‘ranging’ shot he fired fell almost on top of him, landing just behind the mortar! After firing numerous other bombs a little more accurately, he crawled back to the Brens. Without knowing it, he had hit the target, an MG 42 machine-gun and its crew. It later transpired that this gun was being operated by the German company commander and so a situation had developed whereby the two opposing company commanders had engaged each other in a grenade-throwing match.
It is interesting to note, as Watkins reported later to Grubb, that the Bren gunners thought that their major was deserting them when he moved back to the mortars. They were singularly restive and Watkins had some difficulty in composing them.
The visibility on top of the hill was around forty yards (36m), sometimes as low as twenty yards (18m), owing to the thick undergrowth and trees. It was perfect country for the enemy to infiltrate small parties armed with light machine-guns. They now began to gather in strength ready to push forward over the top of the hill. Fire came at ‘B’ Company from all parts of the summit. Still unseen, the German battle group edged its way closer.
Major Grubb’s plan had gone a little awry; his riflemen were at the bottom of the hill just when he needed them most. However, he did still have the firepower of his Bren guns available, to produce the ‘wall of fire’ he had envisaged earlier. Watkins was told to keep up a non-stop barrage of fire into the woods on the hilltop, whilst Grubb took himself and his two bodyguards (Bromwich and Cook) on their own flanking movement round the enemy-held summit. As soon as the Brens opened up, the intrepid three-man attack crawled off into the undergrowth.
The noise rose to a crescendo. The Bren guns fired and fired and fired continually, sweeping the whole top of the hill. The Worcestershires did not need to see the enemy; they put up such a curtain of fire that not even the bravest German would dare enter. On and on they fired, not letting up for a moment. It was enough; the attack over the top of the hill was stopped. The enemy had to pull back.
Grubb’s little party had less success. They soon reached a point where they were about to show themselves and move in, but could not do so because of all the firing. Some tanks down on the main road were also sweeping the hillside with their fire. To have stood up would have been suicidal. The trio remained stranded until nightfall, when a search party from another company was sent to find them on the orders of the CO.
