MAJOR HERBERT ‘BLONDIE’ HASLER, DSO & THE COCKLESHELL HEROES
HERBERT HASLER JOINED THE ROYAL MARINES AND PERSONALLY PLANNED AND LED A DARING COMMANDO OPERATION AGAINST AXIS SHIPPING IN BORDEAUX HARBOUR
A keen sportsman, Blondie was commissioned into the Royal Marines and served with them throughout the war. In post-war life he achieved global recognition as a single-handed sailor.
It was only once the Royal Marines were aboard the submarine HMS Tuna and heading across the Channel that ‘Blondie’ Hasler told them their mission. A gifted sailor who had been badgering his superiors for months to raise a small naval commando unit, Hasler revealed to his men that they were on their way to attack German merchant shipping at anchor in Bordeaux, an operation – codenamed Frankton – that entailed paddling 145 kilometres (90 miles) up the Gironde, laying up during daylight on isolated stretches of the fast-flowing river. Once at Bordeaux, explained the 28-year-old Hasler, they would attach limpet mines to the hulls of the fast blockade runners that shipped German supplies to Japan.
One of the marines, Norman Colley, recalled that they all took the disclosure in their stride, despite the nature of the operation: “We knew it was supposed to be dangerous... we were all about 20 years of age so things like that didn’t bother us,” he said. “The lads accepted it very well. Nobody expected to get back off it – it was a suicide mission.”
Hasler had been honest with his men from the moment he advertised for volunteers for a “hazardous service”. He was after single men with no children, asking each volunteer, “Do you realise that your expectation of a long life is very remote?”
Having injured his ankle during the four months of training that preceded the mission, Colley was the operation’s substitute, on board only in the event that one of the 12 marines fell sick at the last minute. None did, and he remembered the “very queer feeling when you see them going away and you know there’s not much hope”.
Colley knew the men were as ready as they could be for the mission. The training – canoeing, swimming, navigation and route marches – had instilled in the marines a toughness and confidence that would stand them in good stead. Nonetheless, what they needed above all was luck.
Unfortunately that was in short supply from the moment the submarine surfaced 16 kilometres (ten miles) from the mouth of the Gironde on the night of 7 December 1942.
One of the six collapsible canvas canoes – nicknamed ‘Cockles’ – was damaged as it was brought up on deck. Its occupants, William
Ellery and Eric Fisher, were stood down, bitterly disappointed that their canoe was unseaworthy.
The other ten men launched their five canoes into the chill, dark waters of the Bay of Biscay without mishap, but they were soon in trouble. A tidal race guards the entrance to the Gironde, forming short, steep waves as the flood tide enters the shallows. One canoe capsized, then another, reducing the raiders to three in a matter of hours.
Three canoes soon became two when the craft crewed by Lieutenant John Mackinnon and Marine James Conway disappeared in the dark, probably having broken up in a collision with an object underwater. That left just Hasler and Bill Sparks, and the canoe containing corporal Albert Laver and Marine William Mills.
Their arms and shoulders exhausted by paddling in the strong currents, the four men finally reached their target on the fourth night, having spent the daylight hours hiding behind the mudbanks and reeds of the riverbank. They attached their magnetic mines to the hulls of six ships, cringing at the ‘clunk’ that they made on contact, and then withdrew, having set the timers for nine hours and 15 minutes.
Then it was ‘every man for himself’, and Hasler and Sparks embarked on an overland adventure that culminated with a trek through Vichy France to Spain and ultimately Gibraltar. Their comrades failed to return, and it took many years for the truth to be known of how two had died of hypothermia and the rest were captured and executed.
“THEY ALL TOOK THE DISCLOSURE IN THEIR STRIDE, DESPITE THE NATURE OF THE OPERATION: ‘WE KNEW IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE DANGEROUS... WE WERE ALL ABOUT 20 YEARS OF AGE SO THINGS LIKE THAT DIDN’T BOTHER US,’ HE SAID. ‘THE LADS ACCEPTED IT VERY WELL. NOBODY EXPECTED TO GET BACK OFF IT – IT WAS A SUICIDE MISSION’”