The RAF's role in the delivery of airborne forces during the Normandy landings, in Operation Market Garden and in Operation Varsity
This paper surveys the role of the Royal Air Force in the three major airborne operations mounted in support of the Allied campaign to liberate Northwest Europe in 1944 and 1945 - the airborne dimension of Operation Neptune in Normandy, Operation Market in Holland and Operation Varsity, the Rhine crossing staged in March 1945. Over time, historians have tended to view the Normandy and Arnhem operations in isolation. The airborne missions in Normandy are typically addressed as part of the wider story of Operation Neptune, while much of the published literature on Market implies that airborne warfare started and finished in September 1944.[1] When the two operations are linked, it is often via the simplistic notions of airborne victory in Normandy and airborne defeat in Holland, implying doctrinal regression in the intervening period and a failure to apply the key lessons that Normandy bequeathed. Varsity is then represented as a corrective that successfully addressed the many and varied planning failures responsible for the Allied defeat at Arnhem.[2]
While this depiction is valid in certain
respects, it is deeply flawed in others. The perception of airborne victory in
Normandy is based primarily on the more general success of Allied operations,
while very different and much narrower criteria tend to be employed where
Market is concerned. It is easily forgotten that the Allies depended far more
heavily on the airborne at Arnhem than they did in Neptune, and that victory
required an entirely unprecedented level of airborne mission success.
Subsequently, in Varsity as in Normandy, the airborne assault was a component
part of a broader operation but was not, ultimately, the decisive factor in the
Rhine crossing plan. In short, in all three cases, there is a need to assess
the airborne role in its correct historical context if it is to be properly
understood.
This is very much the aim of the following
analysis. The success or failure of each combined operation is not the issue.
Rather, the central question concerns the outcome of the airborne missions and
the role of the RAF in the development of airborne warfare during the Northwest
Europe campaign. The RAF's contribution is addressed in relation to the basic
Allied airborne operational concept, the many and varied challenges that it
generated, and doctrinal development during 1944 and 1945. The key air lessons
gathered from one operation to the next are also assessed, together with their
subsequent impact on planning. Via this approach, it is possible to establish a
number of clear continuities in the story of the RAF's association with the
airborne medium, extending from the Allies' first large-scale use of airborne
forces through to the end of hostilities. Yet this evolving relationship was
complex, to say the least, and does not readily align with the generally
accepted view of a regressive failure in Market that was subsequently corrected
in Varsity.
There is a vast literature dealing with the
history of the airborne forces, and with airborne operations in the Second
World War. Yet so much has been published that it is, perhaps, all too easy to
lose touch with some of the fundamentals of the subject, not least the
elementary question of why airborne forces should have been needed at all. Yet
this is directly relevant to the first of the three operations with which this
study is concerned. While a number of arguments were advanced, there was one
basic contention that effectively decided the issue in Britain. Sooner or later,
it would be necessary to open a second front with Germany. Allied forces would
have to attack heavily defended beaches to secure a foothold on mainland
Europe. In such circumstances, it would obviously be very useful if airborne
forces could be dropped behind the enemy's coastal defences in support of the
amphibious landings.[3]
The case appeared unanswerable, and so it was
that two airborne divisions - 1st and 6th Airborne - were generated to fulfil
this very specific purpose. In the process, airborne operations were
effectively subordinated to amphibious operations and amphibious landing
doctrine, which, in the British case, espoused the concept of the dawn assault,
exploiting surprise rather than the long-term softening up that characterised
American operations in the Pacific. But, if the amphibious forces hit the beach
at daybreak, what were the implications for the airborne? Clearly, they would
need time to secure their objectives before the beach assault began, which
meant landing several hours before dawn, during the hours of darkness. This was
in marked contrast to German airborne doctrine, which was firmly based on the
principle of the daylight airlift; night-time landings were deemed too
difficult and hazardous.
Operations in North Africa at the end of 1942
offered only limited scope to test the concept, so it was not until Operation
Husky, the landings in Sicily in the following year, that the Allies were
compelled to confront the extreme complexity of the task that they had taken on. Only then, in the most brutal circumstances
imaginable, did they begin to comprehend the exceptional challenges involved in
executing accurate airlifts in darkness, after a long approach over water, in
live operational conditions. In Husky, the simple truth is that the Allies
saddled themselves with an airborne delivery plan that lay far beyond the
capabilities of their aircrew, or indeed the aircrew of any air force then in
existence.[4]
US Waco gliders were towed by RAF tugs in Operation Husky |
Many of the gliders crashed or landed in the sea |
Predictably enough, Husky was followed by a
veritable outpouring of airborne lessons and doctrine papers.[5]
Many different issues were considered, but there was a particularly strong
focus on the airlift. It was accepted that air issues had to be addressed with
far greater care in future airborne operations, with much more influence being
given to the theatre air commander. It had to be recognised that successful
lifts and landings were weather dependent; the high command had therefore to
rule on whether airborne missions were essential to the success of broader
ventures, such as amphibious operations. If essential, these other operations
might have to be delayed until weather conditions were suitable for the
airlift.[6]
Aircrew training, especially in night navigation, required far greater
attention: ‘Aircrews participating
must therefore be trained to an operational standard. In particular, pilots
require intensive training in low flying, navigation over sea, and in judging
distances by moonlight. All the aircraft crews must have some preliminary
operational experience ...’[7]
The post-Husky post-mortem was thus very
thorough. But it was one thing to write lessons and doctrine papers;
implementing key findings and recommendations was never likely to be so
straightforward. How far, then, was it possible to exploit the lessons of Sicily
in Operation Neptune, the opening phase of Operation Overlord, in Normandy in
1944?
The air command, control and planning
provisions established for Normandy were unquestionably superior to the
fragmented machinery employed before the Sicilian landings. Responsibility for
the airlifts into Normandy was placed under the Air Commander-in-Chief, Air
Chief Marshal Sir Trafford Leigh-Mallory. A so-called Airborne Air Planning
committee was created to co-ordinate the airlift with other parts of the plan
and, at divisional level, for the British operation, 38 Group and 6th Airborne
Division set up a joint headquarters to ensure the closest possible
collaboration.[8]
Leigh-Mallory with Montgomery in Normandy |
Yet a fundamental problem
remained: the Normandy airborne operation, like Husky, would not be treated as
an operation in its own right. Rather, both the airborne mission and the
accompanying airlift would be moulded and shaped around the amphibious landings
in a manner that lay very largely beyond the Air Commander's control.
Leigh-Mallory's well known dislike of the American airborne plan provides one
obvious illustration. Despite his misgivings, he was compelled to accept the
plan in deference to the requirements of land commanders such as Montgomery and
Bradley, and he had later to accommodate wholesale revisions to their requirements
only a few days before D-Day. His concerns proved only too well founded: the
American landings were both inaccurate and widely dispersed.[9]
101st Airborne Division's parachute landings in Normandy; more than 30 sticks dropped outside the area of the map |
6th Airborne Division area of operations, drop zones and landing zones |
Period map showing the topography of the area around DZ V (DZ is marked 'V', battery is marked 'B') |
Oblique image of the Merville Battery under construction |
Air routing from the UK, showing the night-time turn over water to avoid over-flight of the Allied fleet and the Le Havre flak area |
D-Day planning map, showing the 6th Airborne Division fly-in and illustrating the proximity of the flooded area to DZ V |
Pathfinders, tasked with marking the DZ but given very little time to fulfil their mission |
46 Group Dakotas |
The Normandy airborne operations achieved
partial mission success, a higher proportion of objectives being secured in the
British than the American sector because of the greater accuracy of the
British airlift. The British achievement was capped by the outstandingly
successful seizure of Pegasus Bridge, and the main airlift was sufficiently
accurate to ensure the capture of the Ranville area and the prompt relief of
the coup-de-main force.
Yet this still left the bridgehead far smaller than
expected, and any hope of pushing the eastern flank out to the Dives had to be
abandoned. This was partly because the original plans were probably too
ambitious and partly because the Germans reacted more rapidly and in greater
strength than the Allies expected, but a further significant reason is that the
airlifts to the two outlying drop zones were very much less accurate than the
Ranville lift.
In order to protect the security of the Pegasus Bridge operation, British airborne planners decided to reduce the time allotted to the pathfinders to the barest minimum – 30 minutes.[21] In the south, in the rush to set up their signals, one of the DZ K pathfinder teams failed to observe that they had mistakenly been dropped at DZ N (Ranville), and many paratroops destined for DZ K therefore landed in the Ranville area too. To the north, at DZ V, the only pathfinder equipment to survive the landings intact could not be recovered and set up before the main lift arrived. As they neared the coast, the 46 Group Dakotas drew AAA fire both from the invasion fleet and the Germans, which dispersed their formations; approaching from the northeast, some crews mistook the Dives estuary at Cabourg for the Orne Estuary at Ouistreham, and crossed the coast too far east. Others, having arrived over the correct area, found the DZ partially obscured by smoke and dust from a bombing raid on the Merville Battery, and were unable to observe such pathfinder aids as were functioning.[22]
The brilliantly successful landings at Pegasus Bridge were the result of some 43 mission-specific rehearsals |
In order to protect the security of the Pegasus Bridge operation, British airborne planners decided to reduce the time allotted to the pathfinders to the barest minimum – 30 minutes.[21] In the south, in the rush to set up their signals, one of the DZ K pathfinder teams failed to observe that they had mistakenly been dropped at DZ N (Ranville), and many paratroops destined for DZ K therefore landed in the Ranville area too. To the north, at DZ V, the only pathfinder equipment to survive the landings intact could not be recovered and set up before the main lift arrived. As they neared the coast, the 46 Group Dakotas drew AAA fire both from the invasion fleet and the Germans, which dispersed their formations; approaching from the northeast, some crews mistook the Dives estuary at Cabourg for the Orne Estuary at Ouistreham, and crossed the coast too far east. Others, having arrived over the correct area, found the DZ partially obscured by smoke and dust from a bombing raid on the Merville Battery, and were unable to observe such pathfinder aids as were functioning.[22]
Post-operation plot and comment on the DZ V landings |
The theory and the reality of the British airborne operation |
Yet if Normandy demonstrated the
extreme difficulties involved in mounting accurate and concentrated airborne
landings, it also offered a solution. Operation Mallard, the British glider
lift on the evening of D-Day, reached Normandy before nightfall and achieved a
degree of accuracy far beyond anything previously witnessed by either the
Allies or the Germans.[26]
This, in turn, dramatically reduced the time involved in the assembly and
deployment of 6 Air Landing Brigade. Up to this point, the Allied airborne
forces had effectively been tied to night operations by their use in support of
dawn amphibious landings, but the amphibious phase of Overlord had now been
completed. Potentially, therefore, the airborne would have more freedom to
choose whether they operated by night or day. The RAF retained the view that,
given a sufficiently high level of training, accurate night operations might
still be possible, but, for the Americans, the arguments favouring daylight
airlifts now appeared overwhelming, assuming the availability of supporting air
power to provide fighter escorts and flak suppression.[27]
The daylight fly-in for Operation Mallard |
Staged in daylight, Operation Mallard achieved an unprecedented degree of accuracy |
One particular problem was that airborne
operations took time to plan. Especially time-consuming was the loading plan -
matching the available airlift to specific units and cargoes. To save time, 1st
Airborne Division constructed a standard loading plan that could be used in
support of any operation on a one-size-fits-all basis. It could be described as
'lift plan heavy', based, as it was, on the entire division, including much of
the divisional command and support infrastructure.[30] It envisaged what was
primarily a glider operation rather than a parachute landing, and the loading requirement expanded over the summer to reach the equivalent of around 600 assault gliders, whereas the RAF possessed fewer than 400
tugs. Hence, two lifts would be required, and it would be essential to use troops
from the first lift to defend the landing areas, pending the arrival of the
second. Not one of 1st Airborne's three brigades would be conveyed in its
entirety by the first lift.[31]
In the context of a short-distance cross-channel operation against weak opposition, there might be no great objection to this approach. However, in a deeper operation, closer to the German heartland, it appears far more hazardous. Potentially, there would be a longer delay between the two lifts because of the greater distance involved, and enemy forces would have more time to react before the second lift arrived. The troops deployed by the first lift would be dangerously exposed. Arguably, 1st Airborne Division's loading plan was not sufficiently mission-focused. In an airborne operation, the mission is not to deploy a particular number of personnel, nor is it to hold drop zones. Rather, it is to capture such tactical or operational objectives as have been specified as quickly as possible. In conjunction with 'lift plan heavy', it would have made sense to develop 'lift plan light', based on brigades rather than the division. There was sufficient capacity for two complete brigades, and all their equipment, to be carried in a single lift. Unencumbered by the DZ defence task, both brigades so lifted could have been dispatched immediately to execute their primary missions.
Attempts to use the airborne in support of
operations in Northern France came to nothing; throughout the summer, successive
plans were proposed and then cancelled. During this period, the Allies sought
to unify the airborne forces by creating First Allied Airborne Army, under the
command of Lieutenant General Lewis Brereton, comprising the British and
American airborne divisions, RAF and USAAF troop carrier and glider forces, and
other elements such as the Polish Parachute Brigade.
It was agreed that, in
future operations, the RAF would be used almost entirely for the British glider
lift; US troop carriers would convey the British parachute brigades as well as
their own. In late August, after the breakout from Normandy, First Allied
Airborne Army was allocated to the support of Montgomery's 21st Army Group. The
first operation subsequently planned was named 'Linnet', and targeted the
French/Belgian border not far from the channel; Linnet would have involved all
the forces that later participated in Market; it was an operation of mass
rather than depth. The lift plan envisaged three daytime lifts: two large-scale
lifts, with double-tow for the American gliders, would be mounted at dawn and
late in the afternoon of the first day, while a third and smaller lift would be
flown on the morning of the second day. All three lifts would be completed in
around 24 hours from H-Hour - the time at which the first airborne troops were
actually landed.[32]
Brereton, commander of First Allied Airborne Army |
Double-tow: an essential part of the Operation Linnet airlift plan |
Evasive routing was another essential feature
of the airlift, to guide the vulnerable troop carriers, tugs and gliders around
known flak concentrations and away from roads where mobile flak might have been
deployed. The route selected was somewhat to the south of Arnhem, and required
a sharp northeast turn after ‘s Hertogenbosch.[35] However, from this point, a final approach
towards central Arnhem would have passed directly over the flak defences of
both Nijmegen and Arnhem itself.[36] The
Allied transport aircraft would have been flying low and slow, straight and
level. In the face of flak, there was the potential for very heavy losses.
Evasive routing: the Comet airlift routed the airlift around known German flak concentrations |
Routing over Arnhem (the dashed line) would have involved overflight of the Arnhem and Nijmegen flak defences |
The country south of Arnhem was polder, intersected by hundreds of drainage ditches |
One-size-fits-all planning: glider manifest for Operation Linnet (cancelled), Comet (cancelled) and Market |
So Browning proposed the merger of Linnet and
Comet, using the three divisions assigned to Linnet and the Linnet airlift
plan, but the Comet objectives - mass and depth combined.[43]
Montgomery enthusiastically embraced the scheme and secured Eisenhower's
approval later the same day. At this stage, there was no consultation with any
of the other major stakeholders at Airborne Headquarters in England. Lieutenant
General Brereton, the American airborne divisions and the Allied air forces all
remained blissfully ignorant of the events that were unfolding in Belgium. They
only found out when Browning returned to the UK, revealed the enlarged Arnhem
plan, and announced that it had already received Eisenhower's authorisation.[44]
The airborne part of plan was soon to be named
Market, although it is better known by the combined airborne and land operation
name Market Garden. It quickly began to unravel. Consider the basic concept.
Market relied on the RAF and the USAAF to fly 35,000 troops and huge quantities
of equipment around 300 miles, across different command, communication and
weather zones, deep into enemy-occupied territory and right up to the German
frontier. And yet, despite the plan's critical dependence on the two air
forces, neither had been approached in order to establish whether, in fact, the
Linnet airlift could be recycled in the manner that Browning envisaged.
Unfortunately, the three senior Army officers simply did not understand how the
combination of mass and depth would impact on the plan. Arnhem and Nijmegen
were just too far from the UK for such a massive multiple-lift operation to be
viable; the Germans would be left with ample time to mobilise before the
airborne build-up was completed.
The basic problem became clear at the very
first planning meeting held at Airborne Headquarters after Browning's return to
Britain. It was at this meeting that the USAAF troop carrier commander, Major
General Paul Williams, pointed out that, given the extra range involved, it
would be impossible to double-tow the American gliders - a technique central to
the tight Linnet timetable.[45]
The American glider deployment rate would therefore be halved.[46]
Worse was to follow. Soon after the meeting broke up, Williams' staff concluded
that their troop carrier force could not mount two lifts in one day at full
strength within the hours of daylight, as the Linnet plan had proposed. This
was again because of the greater distance involved and hence the increased
transit time and the reduced turn-around time in the UK; moreover, fewer
daylight hours would be available by mid-September, compared with late August,
when Linnet was devised.[47]
They also feared that the proposed dawn
take-off schedule would leave the operation vulnerable to weather disruption, a
problem that had already contributed to the cancellation of Linnet and Comet.
Consequently, instead of reducing the scale of the second lift to proportions
that could be managed within the Linnet timetable (but potentially drawing out
the airlift across several more smaller lifts), they proposed mounting one full
strength lift per day in the middle hours of the day, when weather and
visibility were likely to be most favourable. As planned, this would extend the
airlift timetable from the H plus 24 hours envisaged for Linnet to H plus 46
hours.[48]
Hollinghurst was confident of the RAF's ability
to execute two lifts at either end of the operation's first day - 17 September
- but Williams insisted on the single lift plan. Events would prove him correct
on weather grounds alone, as foggy conditions would have prevented a dawn
take-off by 38 Group and 46 Group on the 17th.[49] But
two lifts that day would have made little difference in any case. The
fundamental problem was simply that the operational objectives were too deep,
given the scale of airborne lift requirements and the number of aircraft
available. It was for this reason that, earlier that month, Brereton had
recommended deploying First Allied Airborne Army to the Continent before
attempting an operation so far to the east, but there was no opportunity to
implement this eminently sensible recommendation before Market was approved.[50]
Despite this, the airlift timetable has since
become the subject of much criticism, but the greatest controversy where the
Arnhem air plan is concerned surrounds the location of the landing areas. It
was soon agreed that 1st Airborne Division would use basically the same DZs and LZs that
had been selected for Operation Comet, suitably enlarged.
There was no alternative. Indeed, if anything, the arguments for landing at Wolfheze were now stronger. Allied intelligence, both Army and RAF, was reporting a considerable build-up of flak around Arnhem, and there were concerns that this was not mere coincidence.[51] Potentially, via some breach of operational security, it seemed possible that the Germans had got wind of the Allied plan, and that flak defences were being augmented specifically to counter the impending airborne assault.[52] Furthermore, whereas Comet had divided 1st Airborne's 600-gliders between Arnhem and Nijmegen, the entire lift would now target Arnhem, accentuating the need for large, open landing areas. Only the larger fields immediately west of Wolfheze satisfied this critical requirement, and only then by a narrow margin.[53]
There was no alternative. Indeed, if anything, the arguments for landing at Wolfheze were now stronger. Allied intelligence, both Army and RAF, was reporting a considerable build-up of flak around Arnhem, and there were concerns that this was not mere coincidence.[51] Potentially, via some breach of operational security, it seemed possible that the Germans had got wind of the Allied plan, and that flak defences were being augmented specifically to counter the impending airborne assault.[52] Furthermore, whereas Comet had divided 1st Airborne's 600-gliders between Arnhem and Nijmegen, the entire lift would now target Arnhem, accentuating the need for large, open landing areas. Only the larger fields immediately west of Wolfheze satisfied this critical requirement, and only then by a narrow margin.[53]
Heavy anti-aircraft artillery batteries near Arnhem and Nijmegen |
The Arnhem landing areas near Wolfheze were the only large and open fields available for the airborne assault |
The success of the first two Market lifts is worth stressing, as its true significance is ignored in virtually all histories of the operation. Control of the air allowed the Allies to stage the airlifts in daylight; the daylight lifts ensured accuracy; accuracy, more than anything else, led to the rapid and complete assembly of airborne troops and equipment on the ground. This, in turn, allowed the majority of airborne units to secure their tactical objectives; the proportion of airborne tactical objectives captured was significantly higher than in Normandy.[56] It was primarily for this reason that Market came so close to success. The problem was that the plan required all airborne tactical objectives to be captured; even a very limited degree of mission failure could jeopardise the entire undertaking.
In no previous large-scale airborne operation
had 100 per cent tactical mission success been achieved - or anything like it.
Why should Allied commanders like Montgomery and Browning have believed that
such a feat might now be possible? The basic fact is that they vastly
underestimated the speed and scale of the German response to the initial
airborne landings. As we have noted, Allied intelligence had located 2 SS
Panzer Corps in the Arnhem area early in September 1944, but its component
divisions were known to have suffered heavy losses in Normandy and during the
subsequent retreat; they had very few tanks, and it seemed unlikely that they
would present a significant threat once Operation Comet was enlarged into
Market. Of 2 SS Panzer Corps, Montgomery later wrote: 'We knew it was there.
But we were wrong in supposing that it could not fight effectively. Its battle
state was far beyond our expectations.'[57]
In other respects, too, Allied intelligence assessments proved too optimistic.
Following the initial landings on 17 September, the Germans succeeded in
mobilising many more troops than expected in the key Arnhem and Nijmegen
sectors with remarkable speed. Organised into ad hoc battle-groups, they were
rapidly deployed against the airborne, giving the Germans a numerical advantage
that fatally undermined some of the most elementary assumptions underpinning
the Market concept.[58]
From 19 September, the main effort of both 38
Group and 46 Group was switched to resupply at Arnhem. The location of the
resupply drop zones reflected the expectation that 1st Airborne Division would
take up positions not only at the road bridge but also on a long perimeter line
all around Northern Arnhem, before major German counter-attacks began. Instead,
the drop zones were soon largely overrun and ringed with flak; British resupply
plans and ground-to-air signals equipment quickly fell into German hands. The
results are well known. The majority of the 55 aircraft lost by 38 Group and 46
Group during Market fell victim to flak on resupply missions, including the
Dakota flown by Flight Lieutenant David Lord, who was posthumously awarded a
Victoria Cross. Not a single aircraft from the two groups emerged from the
operation entirely unscathed. Most of the supplies fell straight into German
hands or landed in areas that were beyond the reach of 1st Airborne.[59]
The worst day of all was 21 September, when a
supply mission was launched without escort fighters, which had been grounded by
the weather, and the transports were intercepted by the Luftwaffe. In total, 23
aircraft were shot down and 61 more sustained damage.[60]
Out of ten aircraft dispatched by 190 Squadron, only three returned. By this
time, the justification for continuing these futile missions was being
challenged, and there was no resupply on the 22nd, ostensibly because of the
weather. The last mission of any scale was flown on the 23rd; again, only a
tiny fraction of the supplies actually reached 1st Airborne Division.[61]
One of the RAF Stirlings of 38 Group that did not return from Arnhem: the aircraft crashed through the hedge at the bottom of the photo |
Flight Lieutenant David Lord, VC |
Air Marshal Coningham, of Second Tactical Air Force, worked closely with Brereton on the Varsity plan |
The Varsity landing areas lay just to the east of the Rhine |
The main problem facing the Allied air forces lay in implementing one of the other key lessons of Market, namely that airborne operations should be mounted via a single airlift. Primarily, this meant reducing the demands of the airborne divisions to sensible levels, but some enlargement of the air transport fleet was also necessary, at a time when aircraft and manpower resources were being stretched to the limit.[66] Ultimately, the two RAF groups were raised to a combined total of 440 aircraft - about 60 more than they had possessed at Arnhem.[67]
The air routing for Operation Varsity |
Congested airspace: inbound glider combinations above outbound troop carriers |
To shield their preparations for the river
crossing from German eyes, Second Army generated possibly the largest smoke
screen in history; it was maintained for no fewer than nine days over a front
of more than 50 miles. One airborne lesson recorded after Operation Husky had
been that DZs and LZs should be sited to ensure that they were not obscured by
smoke or fires on the ground,[70]
but this eminently sensible recommendation had apparently been forgotten by
March 1945. Had the airborne operation been commanded by a British officer such
as Browning, who had worked closely with Second Army in the past, the smoke
screen might possibly have been identified as a hazard.[71]
But Browning had been removed from his post after Market, leaving Varsity to be
commanded by an American, Lieutenant General Matthew Ridgeway.[72]
It may be that Ridgeway did not maintain a comparable working relationship with
Second Army's senior staff.
Even then, the consequences might not have been
quite so serious without another factor - an unfortunate intervention by the
commander of the Glider Pilot Regiment, Brigadier George Chatterton. Chatterton
was a key personality within the Allied airborne community and had played a
vital role in the creation and expansion of the British assault glider force.
Of particular note was his role in training the aircrew who so brilliantly
executed the Pegasus Bridge landing on D-Day.[73]
But, in Varsity, Chatterton made a fundamental mistake. He concocted a plan for
landing 6th Airborne Division's gliders in relatively small tactical groups
immediately adjacent to the objectives of the personnel they were carrying.[74]
This was completely at odds with past experience, which had demonstrated the
advantages in terms of air navigation that accrued from the use of a small
number of large and easily visible LZs.[75]
Second Army smoke canisters before Operation Varsity |
Chatterton's scheme would have taxed the
aircrew who landed so successfully in Normandy and at Arnhem, but much of the
Glider Pilot Regiment had not returned from Arnhem. Therefore, at minimal
notice, it had had to be reconstituted using such manpower resources as were
available - chiefly aircrew from the RAF reserve pool. These new recruits were
then given the standard glider pilot refresher course (having never received
the basic training) and some rudimentary infantry instruction.[76]
With such obviously 'green' pilots making up a high proportion of his force,
Chatterton should have observed that most elementary planning principle - keep
it simple. Instead, with the best of intentions, he needlessly complicated an already very difficult task.
During the final approach to the Rhine,
visibility remained at least adequate for the gliders and their tugs. But the
country to the east of the river, where the release point and the LZs were
located, was substantially obscured by Second Army's smoke screen, and by smoke
and dust generated by the 4,000-gun artillery barrage and the ongoing battle.[77]
After cast-off, descending through the dense smoke, the pilots circled and
tried to pick out their assigned landing points, only to be confronted by a
murderous hail of anti-aircraft and small-arms fire from the Germans. In no
time, the tactical plan disintegrated, leaving the British glider force to be
dispersed over a large area. Many gliders fell victim to the German gunners or
crash-landed, and others were raked with fire as soon as they touched down.[78]
British gliders crossing the Rhine to find their objectives shrouded by smoke |
The majority of glider-borne cargoes were
destroyed or damaged or could not be recovered and deployed in battle, and 27
per cent of the glider pilots became casualties. The casualty rate sustained by
6 Air Landing Brigade in Operation Varsity totalled approximately 40 per cent,
most of the losses being incurred during the actual landings;[79]
the 2nd Oxfordshire and Buckinghamshire Light Infantry lost half their strength
in a period of about 20 minutes.[80]
After a recovery effort extending over several days, the final equipment losses
included 46 per cent of 6th Airborne Division's jeeps, 44 per cent of their
trailers, 44 per cent of their carriers, half their light tanks, 29 per cent of
their 75mm Howitzers, half their 25 pounders, 56 per cent of their 17 pounder
anti-tank guns, 29 per cent of their 6 pounder anti-tank guns and 56 per cent
of their Dodge 3/4 ton weapon carriers.[81]
Some of the many gliders that crashed on landing or succumbed to enemy fire soon afterwards |
Conclusions
The RAF's experience across the three airborne
operations addressed in this paper was clearly very mixed. In Normandy, the
successes of the Ranville mission and Operation Mallard were marred by the
disaster that occurred at DZ V. At Arnhem, the RAF made a vital contribution to
the Allies' most successful airborne lift of the war, only to be confronted by a
bitter and enduring critique of the air plan. In Varsity, the RAF again
fulfilled their mission very creditably, but the glider landings were ruined by
a series of elementary tactical planning failures.
Why should this story have been so complex and
convoluted? How can the absence of more consistent development and advance,
from one operation to the next, be explained? The initial problem lay with the
post-Husky airborne lessons studies. They correctly identified many vital
lessons but without questioning the basic concept of using airborne troops to
support dawn amphibious landings. Yet many of the problems that arose during
Husky actually stemmed from this concept. It was thus hardly surprising that
identical difficulties should have been encountered in Normandy, given the
obvious similarity between the two operations. Thereafter, the airborne concept
was changed. However, in seeking to implement the revised approach in Operation Market Garden, Montgomery
and Browning largely ignored earlier lessons, which had, among other things,
emphasised the need for ample lead time, for integrated command and control and
for prompt relief of the airborne troops by ground forces. Moreover, their plan
imposed particularly narrow and exacting constraints on those subsequently
responsible for planning at the tactical level.
Without prior consultation, the air forces were
tasked with a lift that combined unprecedented scale and depth with a
protracted daylight transit through hostile airspace to objectives only just
short of the German border. Historians have tended to argue that there were
several ways in which they might have discharged this formidable undertaking,
ignoring or misrepresenting key planning considerations as well as the
steadfast determination of both the RAF and the USAAF to avoid the mistakes of
Sicily and Normandy. In truth, in the prevailing circumstances, there was no
viable alternative to the approach that the Allied airmen adopted - an approach
that finally yielded the accurate and concentrated landings that had eluded
them in the past, substantially increasing the scope for the airborne forces to
fulfil their missions.
Nevertheless, this achievement was overshadowed
by the fact that, ultimately, Market Garden failed. Its aftermath duly witnessed
another search for lessons, which correctly identified many features of the
plan that might, ideally, have been different, but failed to capture the
context within which some of the original planning decisions were taken.
Particularly notable in this respect was the verdict that the Arnhem landing
areas were too far from the road bridge. Superficially, the case might have
appeared valid, but it was not accompanied by any careful consideration of the
factors that led to the selection of the Wolfheze DZs and LZs - the
intelligence on German flak and the requirement for large, firm and open fields
capable of accommodating 600 assault gliders – and it did not identify any
viable alternatives.
And so, when Operation Varsity was planned, the
need for landings close to the airborne objectives came to overshadow almost
every other factor. Consequently, on 24 March 1945, British forces mounted
their largest single glider landing of the war into LZs that were shrouded in
thick, Allied-generated smoke and well protected by German anti-aircraft
defences; moreover, this daunting assignment depended predominantly for its
success on novice aircrew, who had received nothing more than a glider
pilot's refresher course before becoming guinea pigs in Chatterton's doomed
tactical landing experiment. The Market baby - the successful airlift - was
ejected with the bath water, and the overriding importance subsequently
attached to tactical requirements on the ground effectively placed the airborne
cart in front of the air force horse. It was for this reason that the RAF's
final large-scale airborne lift of the Second World War ended in another
shambolic glider landing.
Arnhem public relations photo showing approximately 80 gliders |
Equivalent Varsity public relations photo showing just seven gliders |
[1]. Where Arnhem is
concerned, this basic failure is common to Martin Middlebrook, Arnhem 1944: The Airborne Battle, 17-26
September (Penguin, London, 1995), Cornelius Ryan, A Bridge Too Far (Wordsworth Editions, Ware, 1999), Peter
Harclerode, Arnhem: A Tragedy of Errors
(Caxton Editions, London, 2000) and AD Harvey, Arnhem (Cassell, London, 2001), to name but a few. William
Buckingham, Arnhem 1944 (Tempus,
Stroud, 2004), considers earlier operations involving 1st Airborne Division but
otherwise also avoids comparing or contrasting Market with previous airborne
ventures.
[2]. Lloyd Clark, Arnhem: Jumping the Rhine 1944 and 1945
(Headline Review, London, 2009), pp. 281-282.
[3]. Air Publication (AP)
3231, The Second World War 1939-1945,
Royal Air Force, Airborne Forces (Air Ministry official monograph, 1951),
p. 48.
[4]. 38 Wing RAF Report on
Training and Operations in North Africa and Sicily, May/July 1943 (held at Air
Historical Branch - AHB); John C. Warren, Airborne
Missions in the Mediterranean 1942-1945 (United States Air Force Historical
Division Research Studies Institute, Air University, 1955), pp. 33-52; AP 3231,
Airborne Forces, p. 90; Lieutenant-Colonel
TBH Otway, Airborne Forces (War
Office official monograph, 1951), pp. 120-127; Maurice Tugwell, Airborne to Battle: A History of Airborne
Warfare (William Kimber, London, 1971), pp. 164-166.
[5]. These papers included
Joint War Office/Air Ministry Report on the Employment of Airborne Forces; U.S.
War Department Training Circular 113, 9 October 1943; un-numbered SHAEF memorandum
dated 19 January 1944; and Combined Chiefs of Staff Paper 496. Copies of all
can be found in Notes on the Planning and Preparation of the Allied
Expeditionary Air Force for the Invasion of North West France in June 1944, Appendices
(held at AHB). See also US Army Air Forces Board Project (T) 27, Long Range
Study of Airborne Operations, 29 April 1944 (held at AHB).
[6]. Extract from Joint
War Office/Air Ministry Report on the Employment of Airborne Forces, Part A,
Lessons of Airborne Operations in Sicily, 27 November 1943, Notes on the
Planning and Preparation of the Allied Expeditionary Air Force for the Invasion
of North West France in June 1944, Appendices.
[7]. Ibid.
[8]. John C. Warren, Airborne Operations in World War II,
European Theatre (United States Air Force Historical Division, Research
Studies Institute, Air University, 1956), pp. 3, 6-9; AP 3231, Airborne Forces, p. 118.
[9]. Memorandum on the
Employment of Airborne Forces in Operation Overlord, April 1944, Appendix V/8;
notes of a conference held at SHAEF, 27 May 1944, Appendix V/45, Notes on the
Planning and Preparation of the Allied Expeditionary Air Force for the Invasion
of North West France in June 1944, Appendices.
[10]. Stephen Ambrose, Pegasus Bridge, D-Day: The Daring British
Airborne Raid (Pocket Books, London, 2003), pp. 57-59.
[11]. TNA AIR 38/238, an
Account of the Organisation, Training and Operations (and Lessons Learned) of
46 (Transport Support) Group, Royal Air Force, during the Invasion of Hitler’s
Europe, prepared by Headquarters 46 Group.
[12]. The burden of
identification was placed squarely upon the aircrew rather than the naval crew,
effectively compelling the aircraft to route around naval forces at night: see
COSSAC/2297/4/Ops, December 1943, Employment of Airborne Forces, Appendix V/24,
Notes on the Planning and Preparation of the Allied Expeditionary Air Force for
the Invasion of North West France in June 1944, Appendices.
[13]. For a map of the
routing see AP 3231, Airborne Forces,
p. 119.
[14]. On the difficulties
of this routing, see TNA AIR 37/464, Wing Commander, Airborne Ops, to D/Chief
of Ops, 20 April 1944.
[15]. AP 3231, Airborne Forces, pp. 96-97; Warren, Airborne Operations, p. 4; Otway, Airborne Forces, p. 131.
[16]. Warren, Airborne Operations, pp. 7-9, 18-20, 23,
24; Notes on the Planning and Preparation of the Allied Expeditionary Air Force
for the Invasion of North West France in June 1944, by PS to Air C-in-C, AEAF
(held at AHB), p. 310.
[17]. AP 3231, Airborne Forces, p. 108.
[18]. TNA AIR 37/464, Wing
Commander D. Cattell to Chief of Ops, 1 May 1944.
[19]. Carlo D’Este, Decision in Normandy (Penguin, London,
2001), pp. 109-110.
[20]. The wind was gusting
at up to 30 mph; see AP 3231, Airborne Forces,
p. 125.
[21]. TNA AIR 37/772, AOC
38 Group to AOC 46 Group, 7 July 1944; Otway, Airborne Forces, p. 200.
[22]. AP 3231, Airborne Forces, pp. 125-128.
[23]. Subsequent
correspondence includes TNA AIR 37/286, Wing Commander BA Coventry to OC RAF
Broadwell, 18 June 1944; AOC 38 Group to Group Captain J. Bradbury, 24 June
1944; TNA AIR 37/772, AOC 38 Group to Group Captain RL Crofton, 24 June 1944.
[24]. Lloyd Clark, Orne Bridgehead (Sutton, Stroud, 2004),
pp. 56-58.
[25]. Air Historical
Branch, The Liberation of North West
Europe Vol. 4, The Breakout and the Advance to the Lower Rhine, 12 June to 30
September 1944 (unpublished official narrative, first draft), p. 10; the
position of the front line is most vividly illustrated in consecutive maps in
John Man, The Penguin Atlas of D-Day and
the Normandy Campaign (Viking, London, 1994).
[26]. AP 3231, Airborne Forces, p. 134.
[27]. Warren, Airborne Operations, p. 61.
[28]. AP 3231, Airborne Forces, p. 146; Extract from
Joint War Office/Air Ministry Report on the Employment of Airborne Forces, Part
B, Recommendations for Future Employment of Airborne Forces, Notes on the
Planning and Preparation of the Allied Expeditionary Air Force for the Invasion
of North West France in June 1944, Appendices.
[29]. Otway, Airborne Forces, pp. 78-81;
Major-General John Frost, A Drop Too Many
(Cassell, London, 1980), pp. 74-100.
[30]. TNA AIR 37/413 Browning to HQ 38 Group RAF, 22 May 44.
[31]. Major-General RE
Urquhart, Arnhem (Pan, London, 1972),
p. 217. Although it is widely supposed that the entirety of 1 Parachute Brigade
arrived at Arnhem on Market Garden’s first day, 20 gliders were in fact
allocated to the brigade in the second lift.
[32]. TNA AIR 37/509, No 11
Group Operation Instruction No 39/1944, 2 September 1944; memorandum entitled
‘Air Support, Operation Linnet’, Appendix B, 30 August 1944.
[33]. TNA AIR 37/979, 38
Group Operation Order 524, ‘Comet’, 6 September 1944.
[34]. Ibid.
[35]. Ibid.
[36]. For relevant mapping,
see AIR 37/1214, Appendix D, Headquarters Troop Carrier Command Intelligence
Trace No. 4 for Operation Market; the equivalent map for Operation Comet is
contained in TNA WO 205/850.
[37]. TNA AIR 37/1214,
Allied Airborne Operations in Holland, September-October 1944; Hollinghurst
papers, RAF Museum, AC 73/23/49, comments on AHB monograph on the history of
the airborne forces, p. 2; For the relevant terrain intelligence reports, see TNA
WO 171/393, 1st Airborne Division War Diary, September 1944.
[38]. TNA CAB 44/253, p. 69.
[39]. TNA AIR 37/775,
Hollinghurst to Leigh-Mallory, 6 September 1944.
[40]. TNA WO 285/9, Dempsey
diary, 10 September 1944.
[41]. TNA CAB 44/253, p.
69.
[42]. TNA WO 285/9, Dempsey
diary, 10 September 1944.
[43]. Ibid.
[44]. First Allied Airborne
Army, Operations in Holland, September-November 1944, 16 December 1944 (held at
AHB).
[45]. TNA WO 219/4998,
minutes of a meeting called by Commanding General, First Allied Airborne Army,
10 September 1944.
[46]. TNA AIR 37/509, No 11
Group Operation Instruction No 39/1944, 2 September 1944; Warren, Airborne Operations, pp. 89, 226.
[47]. TNA WO 219/4998,
memorandum by Lieutenant Colonel Thomas Bartley, 10 September 1944.
[48]. Ibid.
[49]. Stan Cornford and
Squadron Leader Peter Davies, ‘Arnhem: The Weather,’ Air Clues, Vol. 48, No. 10 (October 1994), p. 396; TNA AIR 37/13,
An Account of the Organisation, Training and Operations (and Lessons Learned)
of 46 (Transport Support) Group, Royal Air Force, during the Invasion of
Hitler’s Europe, p. 70.
[50]. TNA WO 219/2186,
Brereton to Eisenhower, 1 September 1944; TNA WO 219/2121, memorandum by SHAEF
planning staff, 4 September 1944. This memorandum set out the basic arguments
Brereton submitted to Eisenhower on 1 September.
[51]. TNA WO 171/341, XXX
Corps intelligence summary 494, 7 September 1944; TNA AIR 37/1217, Operation
Market, 1st Airborne Division Planning Intelligence Summary No. 2, 14 September
1944, prepared by G2 (I); see also TNA AIR 37/1214, Appendix D, Headquarters
Troop Carrier Command Intelligence Trace No. 4 for Operation Market.
[52]. TNA AIR 37/1217,
Operation Market, 1st Airborne Division Planning Intelligence Summary No 2
dated 14 Sep 1944, prepared by G2 (I).
[53]. Report on the British
Airborne Effort in Operation ‘Market’, by 38 and 46 Groups, RAF, 1 January 1945
(held at AHB).
[54]. The three battalions
of 1 Parachute Brigade left the landing area, 2 and 3 Para having been assigned
to the bridge, while 1 Para was to occupy positions in northern Arnhem. All the
Air-Landing Brigade elements conveyed by the first lift remained in the DZ/LZ
area, together with all Glider Pilot Regiment personnel, who were trained to
fight as infantry.
[55]. For the best account
of the airlifts, covering the whole operation, see Warren, Airborne Operations, Chapter 4. On the compression of the airlift,
relative to the Normandy lifts, see p. 90.
[56]. Out of the
multiplicity of crossings, only the bridges at Son and Nijmegen were not
secured. By contrast, the British airborne lodgement area in Normandy was far smaller
than originally planned. Of the various American missions, only one of the four
causeways from Utah Beach was captured outright by 101st Airborne and they also
failed to establish a firm northern perimeter line linking with 82nd Airborne,
or to seal off southern flank of the Utah beachhead. Similarly, 82nd Airborne
failed to establish adequate protection on their northern flank and were unable
to capture the La Fière, Chef-du-Pont and Pont l’Abbé bridges. Much of the
British and American airborne achievement was dependent on assistance or
reinforcement by conventional ground troops advancing inland from beaches,
whereas, in Market, the airborne were predominantly unsupported.
[57]. Montgomery, Memoirs, p. 297.
[58]. Airborne Operations: A German Appraisal, Office of the Chief of
Military History, Department of the Army (US Army Foreign Military Studies
Series, 1950), pp. 54-55; Kershaw, It
Never Snows in September (Ian Allen, Hersham, 2004), pp. 108-112, 119-120.
[59]. Warren, Airborne Operations, p. 132.
[60]. Ibid., pp. 133-144.
[61]. Arie-Jan Van Hees, Green On! A Detailed Survey of the British
Parachute Re-Supply Sorties During Operation Market Garden (self-published,
Eijsden, 2009), 18-25 September 1944, pp. 216-217.
[62]. Warren, Airborne Operations, pp. 159-160.
[63]. No 38 Group RAF
Report on Operation ‘Varsity’, 20 May 1945, para 110, (held at AHB).
[64]. Warren, Airborne Operations, p. 161.
[65]. Ibid., p. 167.
[66]. Ibid., pp. 158,
161-163.
[67]. AP 3231, Airborne Forces, pp. 184-185.
[68]. Ibid., pp. 193, 197.
[69]. No 38 Group RAF
Report on Operation ‘Varsity’, 20 May 1945, para 24-26.
[70]. US War Department
Training Circular No 113, 9 October 1943, Notes on the Planning and Preparation
of the Allied Expeditionary Air Force for the Invasion of Northwest France,
June 1944, Appendices.
[71]. Smoke obscuration was
specifically identified as a hazard to air navigation during the preparations
for the Normandy landings; see TNA AIR 37/464, Wing Commander D. Cattell to
Chief of Ops, 1 May 1944.
[72]. Warren, Airborne Operations, p. 156.
[73]. Ambrose, Pegasus Bridge, pp. 57-58.
[74]. No 38 Group RAF
Report on Operation ‘Varsity’, 20 May 1945, para 24-26.
[75]. The main British
doctrinal pronouncement on the subject read: ‘The dropping zone should be an
easily recognisable area rather than a pin point chosen for tactical reasons’. See
extract from Joint War Office/Air Ministry Report on the Employment of Airborne
Forces, Part A, Lessons of Airborne Operations in Sicily, Notes on the Planning
and Preparation of the Allied Expeditionary Air Force for the Invasion of North
West France in June 1944, Appendices.
[76]. AP 3231, Airborne Forces, p. 185.
[77]. Warren, Airborne Operations, p. 174.
[78]. Otway, Airborne Forces, p. 308.
[79]. Howard N. Cole, On Wings of Healing: The Story of the
Airborne Medical Services, 1940-1960 (William Blackwood, Edinburgh, 1963),
p. 166.
[80]. TNA WO 171/4320, 6
Air Landing Brigade Headquarters War Diary, 24 March 1944.
[81]. Otway, Airborne Forces, pp. 318.
[82]. Warren, Airborne Operations, p. 181.
[83]. See, for example, No
38 Group RAF Report on Operation ‘Varsity’, 20 May 1945, para 63. For a typically
misleading account of the British glider landings, offering no comment at all on
their inaccuracy or the materiel losses involved, see Lloyd Clark, Arnhem: Jumping the Rhine, pp. 314-316.
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