Blood of Honour

HISTORICAL NOTE

Tanner had good reason to feel let down by the British commanders on Crete, a failure one year on from Dunkirk that should have never happened. The German Fallschirmjäger units dropped on Crete on 20 May 1941 were absolutely slaughtered, most units suffering between 50 and 70 per cent casualties and some even higher than that. There is no way a defending force of superior numbers, armed with rifles and machine-guns with an effective range of four hundred yards or more, should have lost ground to an attacking force, hideously mauled in its first moments, armed principally with sub-machine-guns with an effective range of twenty–forty yards. For that to happen, some monumentally bad judgements and decisions had to have been made.

A lot of the blame lies with Major General Freyberg. Although he did not know it, Freyberg was being fed Ultra, the decrypts from the German Enigma machines, but he became so concerned by his instructions to preserve the secrecy of what he knew that he was unable to act upon them. Even worse, he developed a strange obsession that the main threat would come from a seaborne invasion. A cool head and some logical thinking would have shown the unlikelihood of this, not least because the Germans had almost no surface fleet, and no ships within the Mediterranean. Furthermore, he misread the decrypts, clinging to any mention of a seaborne invasion and overlooking the greater threat – namely an attack on Maleme airfield. Thus he failed to move troops to reinforce that vital airfield when he had the chance. The extraordinary conversation he had with Monty Woodhouse on the morning of the invasion occurred in much the same way as depicted in the book. Such sangfroid was not the sign of a commander with a full grasp of the situation.

Freyberg was, by all accounts, a thoroughly decent fellow, but he was no great intellect and had been promoted well above his capabilities. His reputation for bravery and his status as New Zealand’s most famous soldier had seen to that. But this also made him very difficult to sack – Britain depended on New Zealand’s not inconsiderable contribution and could not afford to threaten her co-operation by getting rid of someone as well known and decorated as Freyberg. Sadly, the Crete fiasco would not be the last time Freyberg messed things up. Three years on, after an undistinguished period of command in North Africa, he oversaw one of the worst-planned battles of the entire war – the Second Battle of Cassino.

At Heraklion, Brigadier Chappel, despite clever deployment of his forces, was overly cautious. Perhaps he was undone by the formidable, all-conquering reputation German – and especially Fallschirmjäger – troops had acquired by this stage. British confidence was low, but again, cool logic should have told Chappel and his commanders that a quick, decisive counter-attack could and should have seen off the German invasion efforts in that part of the island in one neat blow. Tanner’s exasperation was understandable.

The British forces on Crete also suffered from the appalling shortage of wireless radio sets. The perils of any over-dependence on easily broken land lines had been demonstrated all too clearly in France the previous year, but this was a lesson, it seems, that had not been learned. It is true that an army lacking radios cannot become equipped and trained with them overnight, but the battle for Crete was a whole year on, and the provision of ample radio sets should have been a priority, as Pendlebury had correctly recognized.

Most of the events depicted occurred pretty much as is written here, although it is often hard to piece together the precise details. On the British side, battalion war diaries were often written up some days after the events, or even only once evacuated, and personal testimonies are frequently contradictory. German records are even less reliable. Paratroopers carried little with them into battle – typewriters, paper and pencils were not a top priority – and again, events were often recorded some days, or even weeks afterwards, and in the case of personal accounts, sometimes years later. It was, for example, very hard to piece together the nature of the III Battalion, 1st Fallschirmjäger Regiment’s attack on Heraklion following their landing. Major Schulz’s men (he was very much a real person) did land west of the town and did attack Heraklion but were eventually forced back. However, no single account that I have read agrees with another as to when this took place. Some suggest it was that first night, others after the bombing attack the next morning. Several accounts claim the fighting continued well into the following day and that the town mayor had already surrendered when a British, Greek and civilian counter-attack forced them back again.

I have opted for what I think is most likely. An attack would probably have been launched at dusk or first light, when the light was changing quickest, making it hard for the defender to adjust and pick out figures and shadows, but allowing enough light for the attacker to see what he was doing. Since Schulz would probably have known the Luftwaffe would be over in the morning, but with no way of contacting them himself, it seems likely that he would have opted for a dusk attack so as not to get caught out by his own side’s bombs.

It also seems to me very unlikely that it would have been a long battle. Schulz’s men would have been mostly armed with MP38 and MP40 sub-machine-guns, and would have had, on average, six or so magazines per person. These contained thirty-two rounds each, which would be fired in three and a half seconds. In other words, six magazines gave his men little more than twenty seconds’ worth of fire. This being so, there is absolutely no way Schulz’s men could have attacked at dusk and still have been fighting the following afternoon. Their ammunition would have run low long before that.

What is agreed upon, however, is that a final charge was made by a combined force of Greek soldiers, Cretan guerrillas and civilians against Schulz’s men as they fell back against the Canea Gate. This was also led by John Pendlebury, British vice consul, SOE agent and former curator of Knossos. He was an extraordinary man, who did carry a swordstick, had a glass eye, and broke out of Heraklion through the Canea Gate, a brave but foolhardy plan to put it mildly. He had also established an arms dump in Heraklion, which he had laboriously shipped from Suda Island.

Pendlebury was executed some time soon after his break-out from the town. How his last hours were spent has also been the subject of highly contradictory reports, but it seems he was wounded in a firefight and a day or two later shot. I have tried to make my fictional character as much like the real figure as possible. However, I have no idea what his last thoughts were, or even if he was conscious at the time. This is fiction based around real events; but it is fiction, all the same.

Today, Heraklion sprawls a long way beyond the town walls, but back then Knossos was some miles to the south. The Villa Ariadne was reputedly a British field hospital during the invasion and battle for Crete, but since this was well beyond Allied lines and, as described in the book, Germans were landing nearby, it seems rather improbable. Perhaps it was a field hospital before the invasion, but any doctors working there after 20 May would soon have found themselves overrun.

Heraklion itself has been massively spruced up since 1941. Even before the heavy air attack on 25 May, much of the town had become run-down. The walls had taken a battering over the centuries, and once the Turks had finally departed in 1898, they had been left, often plundered to build further houses. Certainly they were not as pristine as they are today. One of the few new buildings in Heraklion was the Megaron, however, built in the 1930s and dominating the harbour next to the old arsenals. Today it is Heraklion’s smartest hotel.

Colonel Bruno Bräuer, like Major Schulz, was a real person. He later went on to be promoted to major general and to command the German garrison on Crete. He was actually known to be more lenient than some German commanders on the island and generally disliked violent reprisal actions. It didn’t stop him being tried for war crimes, however. Found guilty, he was sentenced to death and executed by firing squad.

Mike Cumberlege was also a real character, as was his cousin, Cle. The former and the faulty caique made it back to North Africa, although they were shot at en route and Cle was killed. Mike Cumberlege died later in the war. Satanas was also a real character, as was Manoli Bandouvas, and both were legendary kapitans of the Cretan resistance. Satanas’s magnanimity towards the British, especially, was extraordinary, and his appearance at Brigade Headquarters on the night of the British evacuation took place much as depicted. For Cretan guerrillas, life as resisters was incredibly tough, as it was for all partisans in Nazi-occupied Europe. Underarmed, underfed, with few if any home comforts and with the threat of torture and death if caught, they were, to a man, incredibly brave. Britain continued to send agents to Crete, but theirs was a long, hard, three-year struggle. Anyone wanting to understand what life was like as a Cretan andarte should read The Cretan Runner by George Psychoundakis. It’s harrowing, compelling stuff.

British troops stranded on Crete continued to escape from the island for many months to come, not least via the monastery at Preveli and the escape line established by Commander Pool and the submarine HMS Thrasher. In fact, Pool did not reach Crete until the end of July 1941, some six weeks after his first appearance in this book.

Visiting Crete today, however, it is easy to see why Tanner became so bewitched by the island. It is a stunningly beautiful place, more green and lush than many of the other Greek islands, and with an atmosphere of incredible hospitality suffused by its long and ancient history.

Yet, as Tanner understood, there was a lot of the war still to be fought, not least in North Africa, where the British Eighth Army was already slugging it out against the combined Italian and German forces under General Rommel. Tanner and Sykes made it safely back to Alex, but all too soon they would find themselves in the thick of the action once more, this time across the vast sands of the Western Desert …

I have used contemporary spellings for place names, and hope this small glossary might be useful:

CP

command post

DCT

Director Control Tower

Goojars

thieves

Iggery

get a move on

M/T

motor transport

MTB

motor torpedo boat

OP

observation posts

ORs

other ranks

Schmeisser

British name for the German MP38 and MP40 sub-machine-guns

Spandau

British name for a German machine-gun

I owe thanks to the following: Oliver Barnham, Dr Peter Caddick-Adams, David Cross, Rob Gallimore, Jans and Martin Holland, Tom Holland, Fred Jewett, Steve Mulcahey, Hazel Orme, Bill Scott-Kerr, Mads Toy and everyone at Bantam, Giles Vigar, Patrick Walsh and all at Conville & Walsh, and Rachel, Ned and Daisy.