Operation musketeer, p.19
Operation Musketeer, page 19
“Three blocks to go, Bruno,” said Brigitte encouraging him.
Bruno stumble but caught himself. He gave Brigitte a shove into the air and redistributed her weight. She grunted when she came down. “Sorry,” said Bruno.
“Do whatever you need to do, Bruno. Just keep running for God’s sake. Two blocks.”
At the end of the next block, four men with rifles appeared from around the corner directly in Bruno’s path. They were militia. They shouted something at him that he didn’t understand but he imagined was something like “stop”. He didn’t. He kept running toward them. They leveled their guns and took aim, waiting for Brigitte and him to get close enough that they could not miss. Bruno knew it was over but refused to give up. He heard a man’s voice shout in French. “Get down!”
Bruno let his body go limp. Brigitte and he tumbled to street. Machineguns fired. The four men in front of them went down, shot in their backs. As they fell, Bruno looked beyond them and saw four French paratroopers running toward them with their machineguns firing.
The paratroopers’ bullets hit the mob. Six of the militia fell dead or wounded. The rest scattered, fleeing for their lives. “Vive la France, you sons of bitches!” shouted Brigitte with tears welling up in her eyes. “We’re okay, Bruno. You made it.”
Bruno was heaving, trying to catch his breath. Two of the paratroopers stepped over Brigitte and Bruno putting themselves between them and the mob. The other two lifted Brigitte and Bruno over their shoulders in a fireman’s carry and ran back toward the Canal. The two paratroopers guarding them fell back, firing whenever a target presented itself. “We thought you were dead,” said the paratrooper carrying Bruno.
“No. No. Just doing my morning run a little earlier than usual,” said Bruno.
Brigitte laughed while crying tears of relief and said, “That’s my little Bruno.”
Paris, France
It was very early in the morning when U.S. Ambassador Dillon was summoned by the French prime minister. It didn’t matter. Dillon wasn’t getting much sleep these days anyway. He sat in the reception hall of The Hotel Matignon. As with many things in France, the 18th century mansion was over-the-top picturesque with its gold-leafed ceilings, crystal chandeliers and antique furnishing that would make a king blush. The French could get away with being gaudy because they invented the term and knew how to pull it off with style.
Dillon thought it strange that a hotel was the official residence of France’s prime minister. It was obviously a palace disguised as an office building. Rooms were not been rented to guests in over a century, yet the French insisted on calling it a hotel. They are French and wonderfully peculiar, he thought. One must make allowances.
Guy Mollet, the French prime minister entered and greeted Dillion. They sat off to one side of the great hall in chairs originally commissioned by Marie Antoinette. Dillon wondered if Benjamin Franklin or John Adams might have sat in these very chairs when they were ambassadors. It was all slightly intimidating, which was probably why Mollet chose to meet in this room – a sense of history – that France should be regarded as special. “Are you aware of the letter?” said Mollet, getting down to business.
Dillon thought about playing coy concerning the letter from the Kremlin threating to launch nuclear missiles at Paris, but decided this was no time to play games. He knew that Mollet was familiar with America’s ability to intercept communications. It was also possible that the British had shown their letter to the Americans. “I am aware, Mister Prime Minister,” said Dillon.
“And what do you think? Will they do it? Will they use nuclear missiles against a civilian population?”
“You’ve seen what the Soviets were willing to do against their own people in Hungary. I don’t think it is much of a stretch for them to kill French, British, or even Americans to achieve their goals.”
“But we are part of NATO. They know the other members would retaliate in response.”
“Khrushchev believes he must one day face off with NATO. He believes it is inevitable and it’s just a question of timing. With the invasion of Egypt, France and Britain have given him a reason to ask if that time is now.”
“This is absurd. Would Khrushchev really go to war over a canal?”
“It’s more than just a canal to Khrushchev. He believes you are challenging the Soviet Union’s influence in the Middle East. He believes you are taking advantage of the events in Hungary.”
“That is preposterous. We are doing no such thing. We did not start this war. We are peacekeepers.”
“Really?”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means… I don’t think Khrushchev believes that is true. He believes France and Britain have ulterior motives.”
“And what does Eisenhower believe?”
“He is withholding judgment. You are his allies. Until the Suez Crisis he has had little reason to doubt you.”
“Your president and UN Ambassador Lodge are saying many bad things about France. You must ask them to stop.”
“I believe they will stop on their own, once France withdraws from Egypt.”
“Their rhetoric is making us question America’s commitment to France. Will America keep its pledge to France and retaliate against the Soviets if they attack?”
“Of course. Why would you doubt our loyalty? We have always been honest with one another, have we not?”
Mollet knew what Dillon was inferring and chose not to answer. “America must let the Soviets know in no uncertain terms that they will retaliate with nuclear missiles if France is attacked.”
It was Dillon’s turn at avoiding the request. “You know… you could end this escalation by simply calling for a ceasefire?”
“Eisenhower would have us backdown against Soviet aggression?”
“My president would have France and Britain listen to reason and do the right thing. It’s not just America, world opinion is against you.”
“The world is wrong. Nasser will use the Canal as leverage against any nation that disagrees with him.”
“I don’t doubt it. But there are other ways of dealing with Nasser.”
“How can you deal with a madman?”
“We do it all the time. It’s called diplomacy. Even a madman can be made to see reason if the right pressure is applied.”
“We must agree to disagree.”
“We do not have that luxury, Mister Prime Minister. Not this time. You must withdraw.”
Mollet was frustrated and not in the mood to listen to another lecture. He rose, signaling the end of the meeting. “You will convey my warmest regards and concerns to your president?” said Mollet.
“Of course,” said Dillon as he was escorted out by Mollet.
November 6, 1956 – Mediterranean Sea
At first light, thirty-two British Sea Venoms each carrying eight squash head rockets took off from their aircraft carriers, maneuvered into formation and headed inland towards Port Said. Their mission was to destroy the remaining Egyptian shore batteries to pave the way for the coming seaborne landing.
From distance the pilots could see that both Port Said and Port Faud were covered with heavy clouds and a layer of smoke from burning buildings and houses. This made identifying targets more difficult. The shore batteries were well camouflaged and protected inside concrete bunkers. Most of the anti-aircraft guns had been destroyed during earlier air assaults but those that remained were still dangerous even to the fast moving jets. The Sea Venoms dove through the cloud cover and unleashed their rockets.
The squash head rockets launched by the fighter jets were filled with plastic explosives and delayed-action base fuses. The plastic explosive was "squashed" against the surface of the target on impact and spread out to form a disc. The delayed-action fuse detonated the explosive milliseconds later, creating a shock wave that was transmitted through the concrete wall. The bunker’s walls were shattered and chunks of broken concrete were launched by the shockwave into the interior. Technically it was the bunker itself that killed the occupants and destroyed the artillery. Only fifty percent of the rockets hit their targets but it was enough to silence the guns.
The airstrike was followed by a forty-five minute naval gun bombardment of the beaches and harbors. With world opinion turning against the Allies, Eden had ordered that the caliber of naval guns be limited to 4.5 inches to hold down the number of civilian casualties. The restriction did little to prevent the city from burning, as shells crashed into the poorly constructed buildings and houses.
The air turned an ugly dark brown from smoke mixing with the marine layer. Fires burning out of control illuminated the shoreline and harbor with a strange red glow. Civilians and soldiers alike choked and coughed, gasping for a clean breath of air. There was none. They covered their nose and mouths with wet clothes to filter out the noxious particles and cool the air as it entered their lungs.
At 4:30 in the morning, the British and French LSTs sailed as close as possible to Sierra Red and Sierra Green beaches. They slowly and opened their massive bow doors. Dozens of landing vehicles tracked - LVTs, each holding thirty soldiers and their equipment, emerged from the interiors of the transport ships. The LVTs churned their way toward shore at a slow but steady seven knots. Unlike the Navy’s early World War II landing craft, the LSTs pulled right up onto the beach and lowered their ramps on sand. The soldiers ran out with dry boots and took up firing positions across the beachhead. It was a text book seaborne landing, but unnecessary. There was no resistance after the Allied air assault and naval bombardment. The surviving Egyptian soldiers had moved away from the shoreline and into the city, where they hoped to ambush the Allied troops.
Fourteen waterproofed Centurion tanks emerged from LCTs at the edge of the sea and drove up onto the beach. They were a welcome sight for the commandos as they prepared to push into the city. There had been multiple reports that the Egyptians had hidden many of their armored vehicles, including Soviet-built T-34 tanks and SU-100 tank destroyers, inside the city’s factories and warehouses, where they were waiting to ambush the Allied commandos when they began their clearing operations. The British Centurion tanks and the French AMX-13 tanks that would land later leveled the playing field somewhat. The Allied tank crews were well trained and could out maneuver the Egyptian tanks. However, the Egyptian armored forces still outnumbered the Allied forces nearly three to one.
Once Nasser and his generals realized that there was no way to stop the allied forces, their plans shifted to saving as much of their armed forces as possible while continuing to resist the invaders. The Egyptian military simply could not stand toe-to-toe with the Western military. The solution was obvious – turn the Egyptian army into a guerilla army. In preparation of fighting a guerilla war, the Egyptian soldiers were ordered to shed their uniforms and mix with the civilian population where they would be protected from the Western forces… or not. Either way, Nasser saw this as a win. The Allies would either resist attacking the civilians in which case the Egyptian soldiers would pick off the British and French troops until they were forced to retreat or the Allies would attack the civilians and the world would be outraged, forcing the Allies to abandon their invasion. The Allies chose the latter and no longer distinguished between regular military, militia or civilians. Any Egyptian became fair game.
It wasn’t that the Allied forces went out of their way to kill civilians. If the civilians stayed inside their homes and cooperated fully when the Allies entered to check for weapons they were usually safe. But anyone showing even the slightest act of resistance was squashed like a rodent. Even running away was considered a hostile act and was chastened with a spray of machinegun fire. A sniper shot from any building or house meant all the occupants inside were complicit and they were killed by grenades, airstrike or artillery.
The commandos and paratroopers were both feared and hated. As the battle for Port Said and Port Fuad progressed, hatred outweighed fear and the Egyptians fought more aggressively, especially after a family member or friend was killed. It was urban warfare at its worst.
The primary responsibility of the Egyptian soldiers was to organize the civilians into small guerilla groups and distribute weapons and ammunition so they could defend their city. Egyptian snipers hid weapons around the city so that they could fire on the allied troops and abandon their weapons when the enemy troops overran their positions. If the ruse worked, they could simply pick up another weapon and once again attack the Allies from a new sniper position. This made it seem like there were a lot more resistance fighters than there actually were and caused the British and French to be more cautious when entering a neighborhood.
Egyptian fire teams of four soldiers in civilian clothes carried automatic weapons and grenade-filled satchels. Acting as the fighting core, they organized bands of militia with Enfield rifles to occupy the windows of the buildings lining the streets and the roadblocks at the end of each street. As the Allied soldiers approached the roadblocks at each street intersection, the civilians under the command of the soldiers would all appear at once, open fire with their rifles and toss grenades down from second-story windows, ambushing the Allied troops. The commandos and paratroopers took heavy casualties until the Centurion tanks started leading the way, spraying the windows and roadblocks with machinegun fire as they advanced. The roadblocks were easily breached with a shot from the main gun. The tanks easily pushed debris out of the way or climbed over it with their treads. Once the tank entered the intersection, it would open fire down both side streets to discourage any enemy militia or soldiers from emerging from their hiding places.
London, England
Dressed in his housecoat and sitting at the breakfast table, Eden had barely finished reading the letter from the Kremlin when Mollet called on the phone and asked to speak with him immediately. Eden considered refusing the call until he had time to think things through but decided he had better calm Mollet down before he did something rash. He took the call. There was no time for pleasantries and Mollet got right down to business. “You’ve read the letter?”
“Yes, of course. It’s a bluff,” said Eden trying to reassure Mollet. “Our Intelligence tells us that the Soviets don’t have the capability to fire nuclear-armed missiles at London or Paris.”
“You don’t know that. Not for sure. Intelligence is often wrong.”
“Not this time. Our sources are solid. I am telling you Khrushchev is bluffing.”
“That is a very big bluff.”
“He’s Russian. It’s in their culture to talk a big game. He is hoping we will run scared and call a ceasefire.”
“Time is running out. We must focus our efforts on destroying Egypt’s military rather than securing the Suez Canal. Nasser must fall.”
“We cannot do that. The justification for our invasion was the protection of the Canal and separating the two warring parties. If we focus our efforts on Cairo and the military the world will know our true intentions.”
“World leaders have already seen through our pretense. Everyone is turning against us.”
“Not everyone. But I do agree we should move our time table up and capture the Canal as soon as possible.”
“And what about Nasser?”
“I am afraid we have underestimated his resilience. The Egyptian people are still behind him.”
“The people and his generals will not feel the same if he is dealt a military defeat.”
“That will take time,” said Eden.
“We don’t have time. I am telling you the Americans are wavering. If we lose their support, there is nothing to keep the Soviets from attacking us. I did not get into this conflict to start World War III.”
“The Soviets are not going to start a war with NATO.
“If NATO still exists.”
“Don’t exaggerate, Guy. Eisenhower may be angry, but NATO is his baby. He’s not going to abandon it over Egypt. America will stand by us if the Soviets attack.”
“If the Soviets attack with nuclear weapons there will be nothing left to stand by.”
Eden considered for a moment. Mollet was panicking. Eden needed to calm him. “Perhaps it would be prudent that we alert our own Air Forces of the potential Soviet attack. We could put our bombers in the air on standby as a warning to the Soviets.”
“Yes, yes. A warning.”
“But we must continue with the invasion in Egypt. We have come too far to give up now. Our people would never stand for our forces to leave emptyhanded. We must take control of the Canal.”
“I agree. We must destroy Nasser. We will continue according to plan.” And Mollet broke the connection.
Mediterranean Sea, Egypt
Four hundred and twenty-five soldiers of No 45 Commando knelt on the deck of the aircraft carrier HMS Theseus waiting to board the Twenty-two Whirlwind and Sycamore helicopters that would shuttle them to Port Said. It was the first British airborne assault using helicopters in history. The word “Experimental” had been dropped from the operation name to calm the already strained nerves of the commandos that would be flying in the small aircraft that morning. Everything not absolutely necessary had been stripped from the helicopters to allow them maximum lift. Each Whirlwind carried five soldier in the cargo area, while the Sycamores only carried three. It was possible to cram more soldiers in each type of helicopter but the engines were limited on how much weight they could handle.
