Operation Basalt E-Book

Eric Lee

• Herausgeber: The History Press
• Kategorie: Geisteswissenschaft
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 310

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2016

Beschreibung

German soldiers assigned to guard the tiny Channel Island of Sark described it as a 'little Paradise' and, because it was never bombed by the RAF, the best air-raid shelter in all of Europe. But paradise for them came to a bloody end in October 1942 when a small group of British Commandos raided the island, capturing one German soldier and killing several others. Operation Basalt would have been a footnote in history but for the reaction of Hitler, who believed that British soldiers executed several Germans who had already surrendered and whose hands were bound. Days after the raid, he issued the infamous 'Commando Order', a death sentence for those Allied commandos who fell into German hands. Drawing on extensive archival research and interviews with survivors of the period, Eric Lee has written the definitive account of the raid, putting it into the context of the German occupation of British lands during the war.

Leseprobe

Dedicated to all those who risked everything, and sometimes lost everything, in the fight against fascism – then and now.

Visit the website at www.operationbasalt.com

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Living in London has given me a great advantage in writing this book. I’ve had free and easy access to three great research institutions: the British Library, The National Archives and the Imperial War Museum. The first of these has been like a second home to me over many months and I am very grateful for the services offered by all three.

In Sark, I’d like to thank Dr Richard Axton and La Société Sercquaise for all their help, including access to their archives and the archives of the Seigneur. It was a great privilege to be able to address members of the Société and other local residents of Sark in February 2015. I was also able to interview three veterans of that period, Werner and Phyllis Rang and Esther Perree. I appreciate the assistance of Richard Dewe and Kevin Adams in helping to find photos and, in Richard’s case, for first pointing me to the mysterious case of Major Skelton. Jeremy La Trobe-Bateman was very helpful as my guide, when we retraced the route taken by commandos.

In Guernsey, I was helped by Richard Heaume of the German Occupation Museum, and was also able to spend a most interesting afternoon using the Island Archives, which contain a great deal of material about Sark during the war.

I’d like to thank Doris Theuerkauf, the daughter of Oberleutnant Herdt, for her memories and photos. I want to thank the Deutsche Dienststelle für die Benachrichtigung der nächsten Angehörigen von Gefallenen der ehemaligen deutschen Wehrmacht (WASt) for providing me with Obergefreiter Hermann Weinreich’s PWIB Form No. 2, which tells what happened to him after his capture by British commandos.

Peter Stokes and Graham Robinson, the sons of Sergeant Horace ‘Stokey’ Stokes and Sergeant Joseph Henry ‘Tim’ Robinson, generously shared their memories.

Thanks also to authors Peter Jacobs, for sharing material from Colin Ogden-Smith’s diary, and Brian Lett for answering several questions. Thanks also to Jak P. Mallmann Showell and Lawrence Paterson for sharing their expertise regarding MTB 344 and answering my questions.

In Dorset, Jeremy and Rosemary Isaac kindly showed me around the gardens and the chapel at Anderson Manor, telling me what they had learned over the years about the commandos who stayed there. Phillip Ventham, a local historian in the area and the organiser of the 1988 meeting of the surviving commandos there, also gave some helpful pointers in my research.

I’m deeply in debt to all those who agreed to read this manuscript and for their helpful comments: Dr Richard Axton, Roger Darlington, Gary Kent, Martin Lee, Doerte Letzmann, John McCarthy and Dr Hilary Sapire.

I would like to thank the Authors’ Foundation (Society of Authors) for their generous grant that made research on Sark possible.

Thanks also to Michael Leventhal at The History Press for taking this project on and for his enthusiastic support throughout.

Traditionally authors at this point thank their families for support, for tolerating them during their many months’ long obsession with the subject of the book, and so on. I can now understand why. It was in conversation with my partner Cindy Berman that I first came up with the idea for this book while wandering along Sark’s beautiful clifftop paths. Little did she know that it would mean walls in our home covered with Post-it notes about Operation Basalt, a huge wall map of Sark, and photos of the various commandos (including a particularly mean-looking Anders Lassen). Appleyard and his men, the Dame of Sark, Mrs Pittard, even ‘Little Steve’ all became part of our family for the last few months, ever present in our discussions and our lives. I hope it was worth it.

CONTENTS

Title

Dedication

Acknowledgements

Introduction

1    ‘

Das Kleine Paradies

’

2    ‘Our Foot Inside the Door of the British Empire’

3    

Festung

Sark

4    The Model Occupation

5    The Final Solution on Sark

6    The Raiders

7    Deportations

8    Appleyard Takes Command

9    Pointe Château

10    The Hog’s Back

11    Mrs Pittard

12    All Hell Breaks Loose

13    The Shock of Discovery

14    The Carpenter Sings

15    The Propaganda War Begins

16    The Wehrmacht Takes Measures

17    A War Crime is Revealed

18    Tit for Tat

19    The Commando Order

20    Collective Punishment

21    The Final Raid

22    Reaction, Resistance, Liberation

23    Justice

Epilogue

Appendix 1: Chronology of the Raid

Appendix 2: The Commando Order

Appendix 3: Who Were the Raiders?

Sources and Further Reading

Plates

Copyright

INTRODUCTION

A FOOTNOTE TO HISTORY

This book tells the story of Operation Basalt, a British commando raid on the tiny Channel Island of Sark in October 1942. At first glance, that seems a rather unimportant story, a footnote to history (and a rather small one at that). After all, this was a time when millions of men and women were engaged in a colossal conflict that spanned the entire globe.

Sark had no strategic value of any kind, a population of fewer than 500 people and 103 cows, and a landmass of 5 sq. km. One wonders what the German Army was doing there at all. Sark is one of the smallest of the Channel Islands, fiercely independent, with its own feudal system of government. So little was known about it in 1940 that the German soldiers sent to occupy it actually had to wire their superiors in Berlin to find out if Sark was even technically at war with the Third Reich.

Within a few weeks of this raid, the Wehrmacht would suffer a major defeat in the Second Battle of El Alamein, where the legendary Afrika Korps of Field Marshal Erwin Rommel would lose over 30,000 men. Churchill would later write, ‘Before Alamein we never had a victory. After Alamein we never had a defeat.’

Just two weeks after the Sark raid, an even greater battle would begin in Stalingrad. Over the course of the next several months, an entire German army would be destroyed there. There would be hundreds of thousands of casualties on both sides.

In the larger frame of things, the commando raid on tiny Sark was surely insignificant. And yet for two men, this commando raid was hugely important. Those men were Winston Churchill and Adolf Hitler. From the moment the Germans seized the Channel Islands in 1940, Churchill was demanding from his generals a plan to liberate them. Churchill was a strong advocate of what were called ‘butcher and bolt raids’, which were aimed at making life for German soldiers anywhere in Nazi-occupied Europe as unpleasant as possible. In addition to terrorising the enemy, these raids were designed to gather intelligence that would be used later on when Allied forces would invade the European continent.

Churchill’s personal interest in the raid on Sark was shown by his decision to invite the commando officer who led it to a private meeting in London a day after the raid. Churchill believed that small-scale raids would test German defences, keep them on their toes and compel them to keep large numbers of troops tied down in areas of no strategic significance throughout the war. If successful, the raids could also raise morale at home, which was essential following a string of bitter defeats for Britain and her allies.

Adolf Hitler also took an unusual interest in the Channel Islands. He had views about the loyalty of the Channel Islanders to the British Crown, a vision of which country the islands would belong to at war’s end and even a plan to use the islands as a rest home for German working men and women. Hitler anticipated the October 1942 raid on Sark, or raids like it, even when his commanders insisted that the islands would not be targeted by the British. In a directive issued on 20 October 1941, a year before the Basalt raid, Hitler acknowledged that large-scale British assaults on the occupied Channel Islands were unlikely, but ‘on political and propaganda grounds isolated English attacks must be expected at all times’.1 He gave orders for the islands to be heavily fortified, each of them transformed into a Festung (fortress). He also demanded the deportation to Germany of civilians who might be security risks.

The news of the commando raid on 3 October 1942 moved swiftly up the Wehrmacht chain of command to Berlin and the German response to it affected the lives of everyone living in Sark – civilians and soldiers alike. But the German response went much further, culminating in Hitler’s infamous Kommandobefehl (Commando Order), which was a death sentence for many Allied commandos, and a significant German war crime, raised in the Nuremberg trials.

Churchill and Hitler’s interest in the Sark raid and its tragic aftermath make it worthy of our attention. But for me, what is really engaging about the story is the people; in particular twelve incredibly brave young men and one woman whose fate has been largely unknown until today.

After nearly seventy-five years, there is still much that is not known about the British commando raid on Sark in October 1942. As Ralph Durand, one of the first historians to write about the raid back in 1946 put it, ‘The date and the fact of the landing are the only two points on which there is full agreement.’2 He cited examples of rumours that reached Guernsey during the war:

Of the local accounts that reached Guernsey none are official and none are based on the reports of eyewitnesses. One stated that ten men landed and went to the Bel Air Hotel, where they killed four men and took one man prisoner. Another, emanating from a German in sympathy with the British, stated that twenty Germans were killed or wounded and that one of the raiders was left a prisoner in German hands.3

That was back in the immediate aftermath of the war when memories were fresh and there were plenty of eyewitnesses still around. In the intervening decades, numerous accounts of the raid have appeared that often contradict one another. In this book I’m going to try to disentangle the facts from the myths and rumours that surround this raid.

This is the first book devoted entirely to Operation Basalt. Other authors have written histories of the commandos, or of individual soldiers, or of the occupied Channel Islands including Sark. This has meant that Operation Basalt is usually given only a few pages at most, and rarely put into the context of the history of the German occupation of the Channel Islands or the war as a whole. And while Hitler’s Commando Order is sometimes mentioned, there is usually little effort to link it all up as a single story, as I have attempted to do here.

Some of those who have written about this raid seem keen to defend the local leaderships in the Channel Islands who were accused, in the years following the war, of collaboration with the Nazis. In doing so, they have failed to understand the importance of the raid, and in some cases have been quite dismissive of it. This does a disservice to the memory of the raiders, and to the truth.

The most important thing a historian can do is to tell the truth – and to let readers see the sources they have used. There have been too many cases of historians over-relying on secondary sources, which may not always be accurate, and which may have an agenda of their own. The best sources will be the ones found in the archives, particularly in the National Archives in Kew, in the local archives in Sark and Guernsey, and in memoirs, published and unpublished, by eyewitnesses to the events. Studying those sources in detail has allowed me to shed fresh light on what happened during and after Operation Basalt.

Through writing this book, I have had to touch on some wider issues, even though I don’t necessarily come down firmly on a particular side in the various debates. I have had to address the question of the effectiveness of German Nazi propaganda, not only regarding the raid on Sark but also the far more famous examples, such as the firebombing of Dresden. I also needed to touch on the issue of the behaviour of some local residents under the very difficult conditions of occupation, focussing not only on the possible examples of collaboration, but also on the long-forgotten examples of resistance.

Unfortunately, so long after the event, not all facts can be ascertained, so where something is not known I have tried to make this clear. As a result, there are still quite a few unanswered questions about the raid on Sark, not least of which being the identities of the men who participated in it.

In all, the story of the British commando raid on Sark is one of great personal courage and daring, and the twelve men and one woman who played a role in it should be honoured and remembered. This work seeks to do just that and to shed light on the tiny Channel Island of Sark during the Second World War.

NOTES

1    WO 311/105.

2    Durand, p.119.

3    Durand, p.119.

1

‘DAS KLEINE PARADIES’

3 OCTOBER 1942

Peter Oswald had no reason to be particularly afraid that evening. The 35-year-old German corporal was on sentry duty on the tiny Channel Island of Sark. He paced back and forth, yawning, tired and bored. It had been an unusually hot day.

Oswald may have been thinking that he’d been having a very lucky war. After all, the German armies in North Africa were having a bloody time of it on the eve of the Second Battle of El Alamein, the first major German defeat of the war. And vast numbers of his fellow soldiers were stuck on the Eastern Front facing the beginning of a second Russian winter – one which would end with the disastrous battle of Stalingrad.

On Sark, they were much closer to German-occupied France than they were to England, and after more than two years of occupying the island, nothing remotely dangerous had ever happened to them. Not only had British forces never attempted to regain control of the Channel Islands, but the islands were among the very few parts of Nazi-occupied Europe that were off limits to Royal Air Force bombing raids.

By October 1942, the Second World War was about to take a sharp turn for the worse for the Third Reich. But on the Channel Islands, the German occupation had peacefully entered its third year. For some twenty-seven months, local administrations in Guernsey, Jersey and Sark and the civilian populations they ruled had been co-operating with the Wehrmacht in what became known as ‘a model occupation’.

But not on Alderney, the third largest of the Channel Islands, just 34km away from Sark. There, the Germans were showing a different side to their occupation as they carried out what has been called the greatest mass murder that has ever occurred on British soil.1 Thousands of forced labourers who had been brought to the island died in Alderney’s concentration camps. They came primarily from the Soviet Union, but there were also many French people, Jews, Italians, Spaniards, even one Chinese man. In the final months of 1942, the deaths on Alderney had reached their peak. As many as ten slave labourers a day were dying. The worst month of all, with the most deaths, was October.

On Sark, the fourth largest of the Channel Islands, which consisted of just 5 sq. km and with a civilian population of fewer than 500, there were no forced labour camps and no mass murders. Sark had a tiny prison that still stands today, but it seems that it was never used. The horrors of Alderney and continental Europe seemed very far away.

Werner Rang, a German medical orderly stationed in Guernsey, visited Sark for three days that summer. Travelling with his friend Karl Schadel, he was tasked with doing an inventory of medical supplies on the island and the two men stayed in a bungalow during their visit. The inventory was a ruse; Schadel was desperate for his friend to discover the lovely island of Sark. A biographer of Rang writes:

One fine evening he and Karl sat on the lawn of the bungalow, eating fresh lobster and enjoying a few drinks which were still plentiful at the time. They were enjoying the evening sunshine and the peace and tranquility that few places other than Sark can provide. The only sounds were the occasional cries of seabirds. The war and the horrors of what was happening on the Eastern Front seemed a million miles away. Werner has never forgotten his colleague Karl’s words on that evening. He described Sark as ‘das kleine Paradies’ – a little paradise.2

Werner enjoyed his time on Sark so much that he managed to get transferred there, fell in love with a local girl and after the war settled down to live there. He lives there to this day, still married to Phyllis. And he was not the only German to be captivated by Sark’s beauty.

Baron von Aufsess, the head of civil affairs in the German field command for the Channel Islands, wrote about the magic and beauty of the island. On a December 1944 visit to the tiny island of Herm, he looked out over the sea. He wrote:

Sark lay before me. Bathed in golden light, the whole of the island was clearly visible and seemed like a model of the island of one’s dreams; its tall cliffs fissured by deep bays and its upland plateau of lush verdant land etched in tapestried detail. I could hardly tear myself away from the sight …3

Later, he added: ‘We passed near to Sark, which, with its girdling rocks, its deep bays and the causeway dividing Sark from Little Sark, must be the loveliest island in the archipelago.’4

Sark, like the other Channel Islands, was not only beautiful but also peaceful. Kurt Spangenburg, a sergeant in a machine gun battalion posted to Guernsey in 1940, felt safe there ‘because the civilian population lived here, the British never made a bombing attack. I always said the Channel Islands were the best air raid shelter in Europe.’5

Sark in October 1942 was indeed unspoilt, beautiful and peaceful. But it was also heavily fortified, protected by minefields and barbed wire. The little building Peter Oswald guarded was deep inland, far from the cliffs. In the silence of the night, the only sounds he heard would have been the wind, the chirping of crickets and the snoring of his comrades. Oswald’s job that night was to guard five sleeping Wehrmacht engineers in a small building known as the Annexe, attached to the historic Dixcart Hotel. Until that night, the hotel was famous for just one thing: Victor Hugo slept there. Hugo lived for nearly twenty years in exile in the Channel Islands during the reign of Napoleon III. When he visited Sark, he stayed at the Dixcart Hotel.

As Oswald stood guard, counting down the hours until he was relieved, a Royal Navy Motor Torpedo Boat (MTB) specially fitted with silent engines was drawing up close to the island. On board were twelve of the best-trained and most experienced commandos in the British Army. One of them, the Danish commando Anders Lassen, was particularly expert at silent killing.

NOTES

1    Bunting, p.289.

2    Le Tissier, Island Destiny, p.26.

3    Baron von Aufsess, The von Aufsess Occupation Diary, edited and translated by Kathleen J. Nowland (Chichester: Phillimore, 1985) pp. 97–98.

4    Von Aufsess, p.103.

5    McLoughlin, p.201.

2

‘OUR FOOT INSIDE THE DOOROF THE BRITISH EMPIRE’

By the summer of 1940 the Germans were winning the war. To the east, the Stalin–Hitler pact had brought an end to the independence of Poland and the Baltic states of Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania. The unexpected alliance between the two totalitarian regimes had now lasted for nearly a year. Few people, least of all Stalin himself, expected it to end any time soon. In addition to dividing up Eastern Europe, the Soviets and Germans engaged in extensive trade and military co-operation. More than anything else, by ensuring quiet on the Eastern Front, the Soviets gave the Nazis a free hand to do as they wished in Western Europe, which they proceeded to do in May 1940.

In a matter of weeks, the Wehrmacht seized entire nations – with Denmark, Norway, the Netherlands, Belgium, Luxembourg and France having fallen. A new word had entered the world’s languages: Blitzkrieg (lightning war). France’s swift defeat at the hands of the Germans was a shock to the rest of the world’s democracies, first and foremost Britain. Following the French collapse, the combined empires of Hitler and Stalin now stretched from the Atlantic coast of France to Vladivostok on the Pacific. With the Americans still out of the war, Britain and its empire were the only opponents of Germany still standing and fighting.

The evacuation of nearly 340,000 British and Allied forces from Dunkirk over the course of a week at the end of May and into early June 1940 meant that all that remained of the British Army was a defeated force that had struggled to get home. Though Dunkirk is now fondly remembered as one of Britain’s proudest moments, it was Churchill who reminded the world that ‘wars are not won by evacuations’.

The remnants of the British Army in the summer of 1940 were no match for the triumphant Wehrmacht. Britain did, however, retain its powerful Royal Navy and the world would soon learn that the Royal Air Force, whose fighter pilots Churchill would immortalise as ‘the few’, was still a formidable opponent.

In addition to those forces, Churchill personally pushed for the formation of special forces to terrorise the Germans who, now occupied nearly all of Europe. On 5 June 1940 he wrote: ‘I look to the Chiefs of Staff to propose measures for a ceaseless offensive against the whole German-occupied coastline, leaving a trail of corpses behind.’ The generals responded to the prime minister’s colourful language by proposing a raiding force based on the irregular bands of Boer commandos who had fought against the British in South Africa. Churchill, who was himself a veteran of the Boer War, greeted the idea with great enthusiasm.

But in those terrifying June days, it seemed only a matter of time until the Germans would carry out Operation Sea Lion, the invasion and occupation of Britain. Had the Germans been able to pull it off, it is unlikely the Americans could ever have entered the war in Europe. Hitler’s nightmare vision of a Thousand Year Reich may have become a reality. However, Operation Sea Lion was indefinitely postponed due to the inability of the Luftwaffe to take control of the skies over England. The fighter pilots of the Royal Air Force inflicted a stinging defeat on Hermann Göring’s hitherto victorious airmen. But no one could have foreseen that in the weeks following Dunkirk. To any reasonable person, the war seemed to very nearly be over.

Though the invasion of England may only have been in the planning stages at this point, the Germans were able to carry out what must have seemed a dress rehearsal for the real thing when they decided to seize the parts of Britain they could reach: the Channel Islands. The islands, though considered part of Britain, are actually far closer to France. In 1940, many of the islanders spoke a local patois that was more French than English. But since the time of William the Conqueror, these islands had been part of Britain and loyal to the British monarchs.

The larger islands are Guernsey and Jersey, with Alderney and Sark following far behind. And there are several smaller islands including Herm and Brecqhou. In 1939, there were 50,000 people in Jersey, 40,000 in Guernsey, 1,500 in Alderney, and Sark had just 500. Sark, the fourth largest of the islands, is tiny. Including Brecqhou, which is just off its western shore, Sark is about 5 sq. km in size. Then, as now, Sark had no paved roads and no airfield. One got about the island on foot, by bicycle or horse-drawn carriage. It could only be reached by boat. Its main source of income was tourism and agriculture. Ruled by a hereditary feudal lord, Mrs Sibyl Hathaway, the Dame of Sark, it was a throwback to an earlier – much earlier – era.

In September 1939, with the outbreak of war in Europe, the local government in Sark ordered a complete blackout, which was not particularly onerous on an island with few electric lights. Most people used candles or paraffin lamps, and only the hotels had electrical generators. Nevertheless, two local men were given the task of patrolling the island to ensure that darkness was complete.

The following month, the Dame of Sark formed an Emergency Committee to take care of food and fuel supplies and other urgent matters. Mrs Hathaway appointed herself as president of the committee. She organised the women of Sark’s British Legion to meet up in the afternoons to sew and knit articles of clothing for servicemen. A number of young men from the island volunteered to serve with the British forces as they had done during the First World War. One of them, Sub-Lieutenant Parkyn, did not survive the war.

Mrs Hathaway’s Emergency Committee quickly found itself rationing petrol, which was used by the island’s three tractors and its petrol-powered fishing boats. By January 1940, food rationing was introduced in Sark as it had been in mainland Britain. But few expected the war to reach the island. The experience of the First World War led most to believe that the fighting would be confined to the Continent. As a result, Sark’s hotels and shops got ready for the tourist season as summer approached. In March, the British Government confidently assured travellers that the Channel Islands, including Sark, would be ideal for summer holidays in 1940.

At the insistence of the British Government, German and Austrian citizens throughout the Channel Islands were interned. There was only one ‘German’ on Sark at the time, Mrs Annie Wranowsky, who claimed to be Czech but carried a German passport. That passport was stamped with a large ‘J’, meaning that she was Jewish. As a German citizen, she was deported to Guernsey and was interned there, but released towards the end of June and returned to Sark.

For the first nine months of the war, the Channel Islanders felt like the fighting was something happening very far away, and would hardly impact on their lives. But in June 1940, the German Army broke through the French defences and reached the Atlantic coast. Their guns could be heard from the islands, and the islanders worried about what was coming next. The Dame of Sark wrote in her memoir:

There was an ominous sign plain for all to see on 9 June when a dark pall of smoke rose sky-high from the coast of France and cast its shadow over the islands. The French were blowing up oil storage tanks: the enemy would soon be on our own doorstep.1

In London on 19 June, the British Government took the painful decision that the islands could not be defended. At that time, it was not even certain that England could be defended, let alone a handful of small islands just off the French coast. Churchill famously pledged that ‘we shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender …’

But not in the Channel Islands. Guernsey, Jersey, Alderney, Sark and the smaller islands were to be abandoned to their fate. British forces were withdrawn, including the tiny garrison on Sark, which consisted of a handful of men sent to guard the undersea telephone cable to Guernsey. The lighthouse keepers on Sark, as well as other Channel Islands, were collected by a special Trinity House vessel. This was the clearest evidence so far that things were about to change, and change dramatically, for the people of Sark.

Large-scale evacuations of civilians took place as well, including men of military age, a large number of whom enlisted to fight in the British military. Thousands left Guernsey and Jersey, and virtually the entire population of Alderney packed up and left as well. Mrs Hathaway announced that no matter what happened, she and her husband would remain on Sark. She was apparently quite persuasive. The authorities on Guernsey were informed that Sark would need no evacuation ship.

The British decision to demilitarise the islands was an important one, and the people who needed to be told this were the Germans. The government in London was busy with evacuations and sending final instructions on to the local governments in the Channel Islands to carry on and do their best. But they neglected to tell the German Army that there were no longer any British forces on the islands.

Friday, 28 June 1940 was a beautiful day with clear blue skies. At six in the evening, the Dame of Sark recalled:

We heard the intermittent drone of German aircraft and went out into the garden to watch three aeroplanes flying low over the island on their way to Guernsey. A few minutes later we heard the ominous explosion of bombs which were being dropped on St Peter’s Port; but we were too far away to hear the machine-guns which fired on civilians in the streets, hay-makers in the fields and an ambulance carrying wounded to the hospital.2

The Germans called this ‘armed reconnaissance’ and bombed the main ports in Guernsey and Jersey, killing and wounding large numbers of civilians. The Germans later insisted that they’d not been told about the withdrawal of British forces, and they mistook the lorries in the harbour for military vehicles.

The only example of anyone firing back reportedly came from the Isle of Sark mail boat. With Captain Golding in command, this little boat had been painted grey and equipped with four Lewis machine guns. The crewmen reacted instantly to the German bombing and kept up a continuous barrage.3 As the Dame later wrote, ‘Within half an hour the planes flew back over the sea to Sark, swooped down and machine-gunned our small fishing boats around the coast. As luck would have it their aim was faulty and no hit was scored either on the fishermen or their boats.’4

It is now generally believed that had the Germans known that the islands had been abandoned to their fate, and were demilitarised, they would not have carried out the bombing raids. The British Government did eventually inform the Germans of the demilitarisation of the islands through the good offices of the American Ambassador to the Court of St James, Joseph Kennedy. And according to some reports, the BBC declared the islands to be ‘open towns’ on their nine o’clock news programme on the day of the raid. But the message arrived too late to stop the 28 June raids.

Why the delay? It appears that the government was simply not keen for anyone to know, least of all the British public, that it was conceding a chunk of British territory and tens of thousands of British subjects without a fight. Both decisions, to abandon the islands to their fate, and then to not inform the Germans in time, did little to strengthen the bonds between Britain and the islanders.

For the Germans, the capture of the islands was a propaganda coup, proof that their unstoppable march through Europe would not end at the French shore of the English Channel. Taking the islands was seen as a dress rehearsal for the coming invasion of mainland Britain. But more than that, if the Germans could successfully occupy the islands and secure the co-operation of the islanders, it could be what they called ‘a model occupation’. That might cause some Britons to rethink the need to fight to the bitter end, as Churchill was demanding. There were already plenty of British leaders, among them the Duke of Windsor, who would have preferred to reach an accommodation with a triumphant Germany in 1940 rather than continue with the war.

The day after the bombing of the harbours in Guernsey and Jersey, the first Germans landed by plane, met no resistance, and sat down with the local leaders in Guernsey and Jersey to give them their orders. Other Germans came over the course of the next few days, taking control without another shot being fired. For several days, no one seemed to notice Sark.

Meanwhile, in London, Churchill demanded that his army chiefs come up with a plan to take the islands back. He was convinced that with so few Germans having already landed, this could be done with a modicum of effort. He may have been right. But the same reasoning that led the British forces to withdraw from the islands in the first place convinced military leaders that they could not be defended. Every soldier was needed to defend the British mainland and could not be wasted on indefensible small islands just off the French coast. The tiny island of Sark was not particularly important to anyone at the time.

Not very many local people took the opportunity, in the days before the German forces arrived, to be evacuated to England. Some did, among them the island’s only doctor, who fled on a yacht just before the Germans arrived. The island’s one Jewish family, the Abrahams, also reportedly fled. The Dame herself was certain that the Germans had no interest in Sark. At a meeting attended by many locals on a Sunday evening in late June, she said: ‘The Germans are not coming here; there is nothing here for them to come for. I am having my granddaughter here; do you think I would have her here if I thought the Germans were coming?’5 It was not an unreasonable thing to say, or believe. Sark had no strategic value to the British or the Germans. If the Germans were to come and occupy the island, it would only mean they’d be wasting valuable resources, and in particular trained fighting men, defending themselves. What would be the point in that?

At the end of June 1940, the islanders on Sark, the Dame included, knew very little about what was going on in the other islands as the Germans made a point of cutting the telephone cable that connected Guernsey to Sark. The Wehrmacht had taken the other islands, their aircraft had strafed some of Sark’s fishing boats, but would they bother with an occupation of tiny Sark?

Despite the Dame’s reassurances, some of the islanders were afraid. In the weeks following the German invasion of France, quite a few refugees from the Continent had reached the island and many were given help to continue on their way to England, and freedom. But the stories they told put fear into the hearts of the islanders. ‘They all told us tales of the horrors of Occupation likely to create alarm and despondency,’ wrote the Dame of Sark, ‘for it was apparent that in the very near future we, too, would suffer the same fate.’6

The occupation of the larger Channel Islands, in particular Guernsey and Jersey, may have made some strategic sense. They had a population of tens of thousands, and real economies that produced a considerable quantity of agricultural goods. The Third Reich also had a clear interest in controlling the passage of ships through the English Channel, and also in protecting the coast of occupied France. And there was the symbolic importance of occupying British soil, and having British subjects living under German rule.

But some of the Channel Islands, such as Brecqhou, were just too small to occupy. Sark seems to have fit somewhere in the middle, with its tiny land mass and population, too small to be of any real strategic importance but too large to ignore.

Part of the explanation for the decision to occupy the Channel Islands lies in the mind of Adolf Hitler, as was the case for so many of the decisions the Germans made during the war. Hitler was convinced that had the Wehrmacht not seized the islands when they did, they might have constituted a strategic threat to the Third Reich. He said in July 1942:

If the British had continued to hold these islands, fortifying them and constructing aerodromes on them, they could have been a veritable thorn in our flesh. As it is, we now have firmly established ourselves there, and with the fortifications we have constructed and the permanent garrison of a whole division, we have ensured against the possibility of the islands ever falling again into the hands of the British.7