Читать книгу Into Action - Dan Harvey - Страница 13
ОглавлениеCHAPTER 2
Company in Defence (Jadotville)
‘Enemy attack has commenced, please send strong reinforcements immediately’ was the radio message sent from A Company, 35th Irish Battalion in Jadotville to the battalion headquarters sixty miles away in Élisabethville. Their earlier transmission: ‘Alert on here’, radioed after an initial probing incident, was responded to with: ‘Defend yourself with maximum force.’ Now, the main attack had begun in earnest. The prelude to the ground assault was an intense, unexpected bombardment of mixed mortar bombs, 75mm artillery shells and heavy machine-gun fire onto the Irish positions. Then the onslaught proper began when over 500 infantry charged in waves toward A Company. By their sheer numbers and momentum alone they looked set to overrun the Irish defences, yet the peacekeepers defended themselves with every weapon available and with every fibre of will they possessed. This was a hard place to be, but the Irish were up for the fight. It was now the turn of the Katangans and mercenaries to be surprised, so stiff was the Irish resistance that their surge forward faltered, then eased off, and then the action was over – for now. Sporadic firing continued but the Irish had held out. Dusk began to fall and with it, to their delight, the Irish could hear the thump and thud of mortars exploding and the distinctive rattle of heavy machine gun fire ten miles away at Lufira Bridge. They knew then that reinforcements were on their way and when the firing ceased all they had to do was await their arrival. They waited, and waited and waited.
Post Operation ‘Rum Punch’, and with the successful capture of Gendarmerie HQ in Élisabethville on the Sunday morning of September 1961, Commandant Pat Quinlan returned from a 35th Irish Battalion conference to where his troops, A Company, were under canvas around the perimeter of Élisabethville airport, securing it to ensure the airport remained operational in the event of an attack. He announced to his company officers, Captain Liam Donnelly, Support Platoon, Lieutenant Joe Leech, No. 1 Platoon, Lieutenant Tom Quinlan (no relation), No. 2 Platoon, Lieutenant Noel Carey, No. 3 Platoon, and Company Sergeant Willie Hegarty, that they were to pack up immediately and be ready to move by 1300 hours to a town called Jadotville, sixty miles away. A Company were to be transported by Swedish trucks, as they had no vehicles of their own, and were to be joined by two armoured cars from the cavalry group under Lieutenant Kevin Knightly. Everything was rushed in order to meet the deadline for the arrival of the Swedish transport and in their haste they were told to leave their 81mm mortars and emergency pack rations. These would be sent on later.
A week prior to their move, a Swedish force under Major Meade consisting of one Swedish APC company and B Company, 35th Irish Battalion, was sent to Jadotville on the same mission. In addition they were to patrol towards Kamina and observe and report to Brigade HQ in Élisabethville any build-up of Katangan troops. On arrival, Major Meade was ordered out of Jadotville by the town’s Burgermeister (mayor) and, as he found no trouble or rioting in Jadotville, requested to be withdrawn. As B Company were crossing the Lufira Bridge, ten miles from Jadotville in the direction of Élisabethville, they passed their fellow soldiers from A Company, heading towards Jadotville. Naturally, they questioned in their own minds the decision to send A Company to replace two companies who had just decided to withdraw as they saw no rioting in Jadotville. Why was a company being deployed sixty miles from base without adequate transport, logistics or heavy support weapons? It violated every military principle they knew.
Sent to Jadotville to defend the town and its white European population against possible riotous unrest, the Irish were to be made feel unwelcome from their arrival and ultimately had to defend themselves from those they were sent to protect. Instructed to occupy the area by ONUC headquarters, they had done so to prevent atrocities and a massacre, yet soon it would be A Company themselves who would be beleaguered and under siege. The reasons that caused such a deployment have been much ruminated upon ever since. High-level political manoeuvrings, manipulated by the Belgians as a ruse to entrap UN troops, were considered foremost as a possibility. Simply directed to deploy in Jadotville, A Company had no prerogative where they could select the location of their campsite. They just had to take over an area that had initially sufficed for those before them; chosen for accommodation purposes and convenience for quick access to the town’s European quarter rather than with any regard to thoughts of tactical defence.
Preparing a trench for the defence of Jadotville.
Courtesy of the Military Archives, Dublin
Located on the town’s outskirts, in essence it was billet accommodation pure and simple. Consisting of single-storey villas and outhouses centred around the Purfina service station and garage, Support and No. 1 Platoon faced towards the golf course and No. 2 Platoon occupied villas on the left of the road. Company HQ was to the left of Purfina garage, while No. 3 platoon, on the other side, also occupied villas and tents. The distance between the platoons was about 750 metres, an area containing a number of deserted villas. There was a railway crossing at the entrance to the town and to the left was the huge Union Minière Mining Company and hundreds of tin huts on the hilly ground to A Company’s left. Close to the area of their positions, for up to 450 metres, was scrubland with high elephant grass. All this was conducive to covered concealment for unobserved encroachment by any attacking force and the site was chosen purely for its suitability to accommodate the soldiers rather than any thought of defence, offering its occupiers neither an all-round field of observation nor 360 degree interlocking arcs of fire. In short it would be difficult to defend, and in a short time, unknown to A Company, they were going to have to defend it. This time it would not be the primitive Baluba tribesmen they would be fighting but a mercenary-led force of Katangese Gendarmerie.
Katanga’s attraction was its vast copper, cobalt and uranium mineral wealth, and Jadotville was a thriving copper mining town. Its 10,000 or so white Europeans mainly worked in mining or associated services, while 50,000 Katangans, living in the tin huts, were the mine’s native workers. About the size of Newbridge, Jadotville’s railway line connected to Northern Rhodesia, today Zambia, as part of the copper belt. Post-independence the white Europeans stayed on, maintaining their links with mining and their equally firm links with Belgium.
Digging In
Red, hard-compacted and copper-saturated, the soil was no more ideal than the site to have to dig into. Yet that was what Commandant Quinlan decided A Company’s best form of defence would be, in a situation which offered very few advantages. The tense situation, having begun with intimidation, had now become one of danger. Cut off and surrounded, Commandant Quinlan ordered A Company’s four platoons to dig in. It was a basic infantry tactic when tasked to hold ground in a conventional warfare scenario, however no one had expected to be doing so as peacekeepers. But under the circumstances his clear presence of mind had a logic to it. It was becoming increasingly likely that A Company would have to put up a defence and he was giving his men the best chance of doing so to best effect. (See map on p. vii.)
Trenches – holes dug into the ground to get in to, fire from, and be protected by – was what ‘digging in’ was all about. It could not be done haphazardly and there were guiding principles involved, principles that had to be adapted to the terrain and the circumstances. There were other considerations: time and materials available, both for digging-in with and for actual use in trench construction, were also important factors. It has been said that the most important tool any soldier can have is a spoon, since you can dig with it as well as eat. A Company were not reduced to that though, and despite the searing heat and blinding dust set about their task in earnest. The seriousness of the situation was not lost on them, as they knew from their training that digging-in offered them the best defensive option to defeat an enemy attack, providing cover from view, protection from fire and, if their trench included overhead cover, shelter from airbursts and shrapnel. It was crucial that the correct siting of trenches in relation to the terrain and to each other facilitated the optimum possibilities for interlinking, mutually-supporting arcs of fire. An individual trench was required to have a fire-bay and a shelter-bay, with proper overhead cover, and all to be camouflaged.
A ten-man section dictates a combination of two and three-man trenches, with the sections’ fire support light machine gun (Bren gun) requiring careful sighting to derive best effect from it. A platoon would have three such sections, plus two-by-two-man trenches at platoon headquarters – the platoon commander and platoon sergeant being in different trenches. The dimensions of an ‘infantry trench’ are not exact but are usually armpit deep with elbow rests for occupants in the standing position. The use of depth in defence, or as it is also known, ‘defence in depth’, is essential to prevent enemy exploitation of a penetration, should they overrun the forward trenches. The depth will absorb the enemy’s momentum, the penetration progressively destroyed by the fire from those in trenches sited in depth. Sited ‘two forward, one back’, be it sections, platoons, companies or even battalions, this was how depth and mutual support was achieved.
This was not, however, the alignment allowed under the circumstance experienced by A Company. They were dispersed more than was recommended, strung out in groups of two, two-platoon positions, with 800 metres in between the two, two-platoon groups. The textbook frontage for a company, two platoons forward, one behind, was anywhere between 600 and 1,500 metres. A Company’s area of responsibility was a far too large quarter of a mile by a half a mile. Good communications grants good command, and the reverse is also the case. Inter-platoon communications, however, were not readily facilitated by the old No. 88 radios, which were obsolete and whose batteries were awkward and defective.
An obstacle forward of the front trenches to be covered by fire is also very useful, but A Company had no barbed-wire, mines or trip flares. It was now that the absence of their 81mm mortars was acutely felt. A Company did, however, have six 60mm mortars located with Support Platoon, which had a range of 750 metres; as well as two 84mm recoilless rifles with a range of 550 metres used for anti-tank purposes, and two Second World War vintage belt-fed, water-cooled Vickers machine-guns mounted on tripods with a range of 900 metres. Each man had the newly-purchased FN automatic rifle, while NCOs and officers had the Gustav sub-machine gun, and each ten-man section had a light support weapon, the Bren gun. Also available were the two mounted Vickers machine guns with the Armoured Car Section.
Lieutenant Noel Carey recalls the dig-in as follows: ‘That evening [Commandant Quinlan] ordered all platoons to dig in, camouflage trenches and hide spoil [dug-out earth]. We worked desperately in [the] stifling heat and hard ground but that night all were dug in and camouflaged by placing scrub and elephant grass over the trenches and removing spoil. Commandant Quinlan personally checked trench positions, all-round protection and fields of fire.’ Commandant Pat Quinlan’s decision to have A Company dig in was far-seeing, effective and, crucially, was to save Irish lives.
The Noose Tightens
On the morning of Saturday, 9 September, A Company’s ration truck was stopped at the Lufira Bridge on its resupply run to Élisabethville and returned empty. Commandant Quinlan ordered Lieutenant Carey to go into Jadotville and see what was happening. Taking the Land Rover and an escort of three NCOs, they were stopped at the closed railway gates. Going forward on foot, Lieutenant Carey was confronted by a large number of armed Katangan troops and a Belgian mercenary officer who refused him entry to the town. Insisting that the UN enjoyed freedom of movement, Carey nonetheless continued to be denied access and was not allowed through. He returned to Commandant Quinlan to inform him of what had occurred and in turn Quinlan reported the matter to Battalion HQ in Élisabethville. In reply, Commandant Quinlan was assured all was well and to stay in situ – A Company were not to withdraw.
The following day, remaining very concerned overnight about the deterioration in the circumstances at Jadotville, Commandant Quinlan sent Captain Liam Donnelly and Medical Officer Commandant Joe Clune to Battalion HQ in Élisabethville to give a first-hand account of A Company’s situation. Although they were stopped at Lufira Bridge, they were eventually allowed through when Captain Donnelly pretended to be sick. In Élisabethville, the Officer Commanding 35th Irish Battalion, Lieutenant Colonel Hugh McNamee, and his staff were hosting a dinner for Conor Cruise O’Brien, UN Special Representative in Katanga. On completion of the dinner, Captain Donnelly reported on the up-to-date scenario playing out in Jadotville and of Commandant Quinlan’s concern regarding this new situation; most especially that the stated reason for A Company’s deployment there no longer held sway. Instead of the need to protect the white population against any threat, they were now threatening the UN Irish troops. Furthermore, they reported that A Company were surrounded by a large formation of mercenary-led Katangan troops, being added to daily, and that Lufira Bridge was effectively blocked. Commandant Quinlan’s recommendation was that A Company be withdrawn or substantially reinforced. He was assured that all would be well, that matters were under control and there was no need to worry. With this assurance, Captain Donnelly and Commandant Clune returned across the Lufira Bridge to Jadotville.
The tension continued to mount in Jadotville and the prevailing atmosphere was becoming more pointed by the day as the stand-off continued. A Company’s dug-in platoons were well dispersed, perhaps too spread out, but they had to deny tactical advantage to the Katangans, who were continually attempting to encroach into the Irish-occupied area. Rumours of possible attacks by mobs from the surrounding villages heightened the already fraught nerves of the Irish. Neither withdrawn nor reinforced, an encircled A Company waited anxiously for the next development. It would not be long in coming.
The Battle Begins
At 0700 hours on Wednesday 13 September, Lieutenant Carey received a message from Battalion HQ stating, ‘Operation Morthor had taken place in Élisabethville. All installations taken over by UN Forces and all quiet. Inform Commandant Quinlan.’ The Operation had been organised to remove, once again, all mercenaries from Katanga. This time, however, the Katangans were well informed of UN intentions and several Indian troops were killed while occupying the post office. Nevertheless they captured their objective, having killed a large number of Katanganese, and gunfire was to be heard all over Élisabethville as the Katangan forces and mercenaries resisted fiercely. The UN took casualties, including two members of the Irish Cavalry Corps who were killed after their armoured car was ambushed in the city.
This was the first A Company had known of Operation Morthor, leaving them completely exposed and very vulnerable. Lieutenant Carey informed Commandant Quinlan, who told him to immediately alert all of the platoons. Given the urgency and the distance, Lieutenant Carey drove the Company ambulance to Support Platoon’s location. As he arrived he could see a number of trucks at the bus station near Support Platoon and fully armed Katangan troops dismounting. He alerted Support Platoon and moved swiftly on to the immediately adjacent No. 1 Platoon, whose members were going to daily mass, and shouted at them to get to their trenches. While returning in quick order to Company HQ he heard a burst of gunfire, and with his heart pounding inside his chest his natural instinct made him crouch inside the ambulance, believing he was the target. Commandant Quinlan set up his Orders Group (O Group) on the road and gave orders to his platoon commanders to go forward into their respective platoon positions. No. 3 Platoon, Lieutenant Carey’s, was tasked with setting up a roadblock at his location and they placed a Land Rover and some oil barrels across the road, covered by an 84mm anti-tank gun. As he was completing the task he thought he heard the unexpected but unmistakable ‘pop’ of a mortar bomb leaving a mortar barrel. Suddenly, there was a succession of such ‘pops’ followed by the ‘crump’ of the initial mortar bomb impacting, followed by several more explosions, all falling into Support Platoon’s area. It was not totally unexpected that something would happen, but what did happen was certainly not anticipated! Small arms fire, perhaps, but not this, not mortars, and not so many of them for so long. Worse was to come, with 75mm artillery shells fired from the golf course followed by heavy machine gun fire. There was an unpredicted suddenness about the situation, events were not meant to unfold like this. Yet this is exactly how matters materialised, and they had only just begun.
Action – Reaction
The pounding continued for over an hour. With no inter-platoon communications, a check three days previously having found all the batteries for the No. 88 radio-sets to be dead, it was difficult to gain information concerning possible casualties, or indeed of the general situation prevailing. As suddenly as the bombardment occurred, it stopped. Suddenly, a shout from the forward trench of Lieutenant Carey’s Platoon signalled they were under attack from the front.
Lieutenant Carey described the situation:
I immediately rushed to the forward trench, jumped in and my Section Corporal there was Corporal Sean Foley, who pointed at a scrub area in front of Lieutenant Tom Quinlan’s No. 2 Platoon area. I could make out figures coming through the bush in approximately Company strength. Eventually they approached to within 400 yards of us, coming on to No. 2 Platoon who commenced firing directly at the Katangans and mercenaries. We were firing from an enfilade position [at a sideways angle of approximately forty-five degrees] onto them, due to our platoon’s relative position to No. 2 Platoon, and my Bren gunner was engaging the targets, as they were now within range and exposed in the open. I found my Gustav sub-machine gun of little use due to its limited range and took over firing the Bren gun, directed by Corporal Foley. Both Companies fired into them as they advanced. The Katangans still came forward. We continued firing, our sustained unfaltering direct volume of fire having its effect. Their attack stuttered, next stalled a little, then completely stopped and they broke back into the bush retreating towards Jadotville.
We were elated with our success. The adrenalin flowed, the various emotions competing for expression: firstly shock, at being under the bombardment, next fear and uncertainty, at a human level, then scared – as you were – of being aware of the challenge of the responsibility of having to lead, of people looking to you, for your reaction to guide their reaction. Once there was a requirement to act I was focussed, because I was part of a team and wanted to be involved in the action. Once I grabbed the Bren gun those around me engaged. I have since often asked myself; did I kill anyone? I honestly do not know, but I’ve answered it this way: Would I do it again? Absolutely, automatically, without question. We were under attack [so] we were going to fight back. A determination comes out. They had fired on us, tried to kill us, and we were going to respond. The heat and the dust in the trench was stifling and we needed to consume large quantities of water.
Their first time under fire, they all felt that they had acquitted themselves well. However, the company had suffered its first casualty when Private Bill Reidy, forward in No. 1 Platoon position, was wounded in the stomach, a ricochet via his thigh, but overall he had been fortunate as a second bullet struck his ammunition pouch, glancing off a spare magazine contained inside. The bullet was a tracer round, which ignites in flight guiding its firer to the direction of its target, and when it struck Private Reidy it caused his webbing to catch fire. The flames had to be doused before the medic could attend to the bleeding wound, after which Private Reidy was removed to a makeshift casualty station prepared by Company Quartermaster, Sergeant Pat Neville.
Mortaring and machine gun fire continued into No. 1 and Support Platoon areas and Sergeant Tom Kelly decided it was time to make a reply. Aided by information passed previously by Wexfordman Charles Kearney, Belfastman Terry Barbour and Hamish Mathieson from Scotland, all workers with Union Minière, he sought to put the Katangans and mercenaries on the receiving end of an Irish mortar barrage. With the aid of a map he brought the 60mm mortars into play at the extreme limit of their range and coordinated their fire onto the golf club area. Three rounds later, the opposing Katangan 75mm was blown to smithereens. They struck the ammunition supply stacked behind the mortar and up the whole lot went: gun, ammo, and crew. This breathing space, welcome though it was, did not last long.
The infantry onslaught was ongoing throughout the day, one advance involving more than 500 men, but the Katangans continued to be repulsed by the Irish, who inflicted heavy casualties. Heat, fatigue, dust and thirst came to the fore, but before these could be addressed another difficulty arose that required a response. During one assault some snipers had managed to infiltrate into one of the unoccupied villas in the Support Platoon area of the Irish lines. Their firing was becoming a cause for concern but Sergeant John Monaghan had the solution: he employed an 84mm anti-tank gun to good effect and took out the villa, snipers and all. This seemed to settle matters for the day and the Katangans, using an existing phone line to the Purfina Garage, requested a ceasefire to collect their wounded. Commandant Quinlan agreed to their request.
With the approach of dusk, Company Sergeant Jack Prendergast crawled to the trenches occupied by the platoon commanders, informing them that a relief column from Élisabethville was on its way and would be with them by nightfall. The message spread rapidly around the company positions, greeted with relief by everyone for the great news that it was, and the resultant soar of morale was palpable. Having acquitted themselves well, they were going to be reinforced and rescued. As if to confirm their delight, the audible thumps and thuds of mortar fire and other weapons could be heard from the direction of Lufira Bridge. ‘Force Keane’, Irish troops with Swedish APC support led by Commandant Johnny Keane, was engaged in an offensive action to break through to the besieged A Company.
With the cessation of noise from the bridge, the members of A Company began to wonder how long it would take their rescuers to arrive in Jadotville. As the time passed when ‘Force Keane’ ought to have appeared, A Company continued to wait. A runner arrived to summon the platoon commanders to a Commanding Officers (COs) conference, to be held in a villa now used as the Company HQ. It was the first time they had seen each other since the commencement of the day’s extraordinary hostilities. Commandant Quinlan congratulated each of them on the actions of their respective platoons, but then came the bombshell: their would-be rescuers had returned to Élisabethville. Encountering heavy fire at Lufira Bridge, ‘Force Keane’ achieved no success in their attempt to overcome it. Stunned, the platoon commanders could not comprehend why ‘Force Keane’ had not maintained pressure on the bridge’s defenders throughout the night and attacked again at first light. Instead, incomprehensibly to the platoon commanders, ‘Force Keane’ had decided to return to Élisabethville, leaving them, as they saw it, to the mercy of a rapidly growing Katangan force led by mercenaries. By that time the estimated strength of the force opposing them was in the order of 2,000 troops.
After a day of extremes; shock, elation, self-revelation and now devastation, it was with a dreadful feeling that they returned to their trenches. Commandant Quinlan had asked them not to tell their platoons as it could affect morale. Darkness descended, and with it new problems. With no forward protection, such as barbed wire, trip flares or mines, and with scrub coming close to their positions it was difficult to see an enemy approach. They remained on the alert and rotated within individual trenches so the troops could get some rest, but in the cramped space it was difficult. Flares from Verey guns were fired occasionally to light the battlefield, though this was more for morale than effect, as they proved of limited use against the scrub surrounding the Company. During the night the Company cooks did manage to get what was to become known as ‘Jadotville Stew’ to the trenches, but water was becoming scarce as they were consuming large quantities. Another problem was to contain the reckless firing, as some of the troops became jittery at the slightest sound. Exhaustion began to set in and sleep was necessary but proved elusive.
At first light on 14 September, all Platoon positions came under sporadic machine gun and mortar fire and the minds of A Company once again began to concentrate sharply and focus their attention on whatever the day ahead would bring. Mortar bombs exploded around them as they hugged the cover of their trenches, thankful not to be caught exposed out in the open. Unfortunately, Sergeant Wally Hegarty, No. 2 Platoon, who was moving towards a villa for water when the barrage commenced, was caught without cover. The first two mortar impacts exploded nearby, blowing the roof off the villa, and the third hit him in the legs and buttocks as he desperately dived for cover. Sergeant Hegarty was taken to the casualty station, where he was attended to, and was back in action with his platoon the next day. Meanwhile the mortar fire intensified and Sergeant Kelly and his 60mm mortar crew were once again called into action. With Corporal Foley giving directions, and fall of shot corrections relayed through Lieutenant Carey, after a few ranging rounds Sergeant Kelly ordered rapid fire. There was a flash, a loud explosion, and a cessation of incoming mortar fire.
Taking a welcome break and a refreshing drink, while ‘digging in’ at Jadotville.
Courtesy of the Military Archives, Dublin
Around noon, A Company heard the noise of a jet aircraft coming from the direction of Jadotville and suddenly in the bright sunshine they could see a plane fly along the valley in front of their positions, wheel around, and fly over them again, this time more slowly. Some of the company waved, thinking it was a UN aircraft, but it accelerated and flew back towards Jadotville. An hour and a half later they saw the jet again as it flew along the valley, only this time it climbed into the dazzling sun. There was a shout of ‘get down’ as the plane suddenly swooped on the Purfina garage and strafed the building, blowing out the windows, and dropped two bombs on the courtyard of the garage causing large craters and loud explosions. The target was the petrol pumps and fuel tanks, which was another shock for the beleaguered Company as the last thing they expected was being bombed and strafed by a jet aircraft.
They felt completely vulnerable in their trenches. Dispersed and without good communications, the individual platoons had no idea if there were casualties or not. Only by shouting from trench to trench, platoon by platoon, did they learn that luckily no one was wounded. Commandant Quinlan, who was everywhere, placed the two armoured cars in such a manner as to criss-cross the fire of their Vickers machine guns, leaving Lieutenant Kevin Knightly in charge of their newly ordained anti-aircraft role. Still recovering from the shock of it all, an hour and a half later the Fouga Magister jet was back from its airbase in Kolwezi to bomb them again. The armoured cars put up a barrage of fire but the jet was gone. This time the bombs fell into the bush beside the road.
Darkness descended and fatigue set in, as did the effects of a second day of heat, dust, sunburn, and the shock of being bombed from the air by an enemy jet fighter. A successful infiltration by a number of Katangans saw them reach the villas between the platoons, whereupon they commenced sniping on the Irish. With Captain Liam Donnelly directing, Company Sergeant Prendergast and Sergeant John Monahan put a swift end to the threat with an 84mm anti-tank gun. During this exchange, however, a member of No. 3 Platoon, Private John Manning, was shot in the shoulder and evacuated to the casualty station, which now had three occupants.
Commandant Quinlan now realised that A Company was physically overextended on the ground and in order to ensure an organised shape was maintained, where command and control could be better exercised, he ordered secondary trenches be dug close to No. 2 Platoon’s area, which No. 1 and Weapons Platoons would occupy. Within three hours these trenches were constructed and under cover of darkness stealthily occupied. A Company’s frontage was reduced to a more manageable 350 metres, its form more like that of an all-round perimeter defence. Now that hostilities were entered into, they would ‘occupy’ the ground previously inhabited by their fire. Their original positions had, however, served their purpose, in that they had created distance, an area of stand-off between themselves and the Katangans so that during the sequential waves of attacks during the first day they had avoided being overrun.
At night the cooks managed to get bread, ‘dog biscuits’ and water to the company, and later Commandant Quinlan called a conference for his company officers. The platoon commanders reported a state of high morale among the troops despite the air attack. Commandant Quinlan said that Battalion HQ urged the Company to continue to hold out. He also reported on a phone conversation with the Burgermeister, using a phone in one of the villas, who had asked for a ceasefire to which he had agreed. But the Burgermeister’s request to send an ambulance into the area to retrieve casualties was denied as the Commandant suspected a trap. He reported that the water and power had been cut and stressed the need to conserve stored supplies of water. There was still no news of any relief column. Later that night two mercenaries, under the belief that the Irish had all been captured, inadvertently arrived at the roadblock in No. 3 Platoon’s area and were duly taken prisoner. Disarmed yet properly treated, they were locked under guard in a room in a villa. A long tense night began, each man wondering what the following day would bring.
Dawn brought the lights of tracer bullets whizzing over the heads of A Company, fired from buildings on a hilltop position over 450 metres away. A Company could not make an effective reply as with the light weapons they had the buildings were out of range. Suddenly, one of Lieutenant Kevin Knightly’s armoured cars swooped into No. 3 Platoon’s area and fired over 1,000 rounds towards the hilltop. The noise of the rounds clattering off the buildings was great for their morale, as was the cessation of the incoming tracer fire. It was not long, however, before the Fouga Magister jet came back again, this time flying higher than before, perhaps because of the reception it had received from Lieutenant Kevin Knightly’s armoured car Vickers gun the previous day. The Magister dropped two bombs into No. 1 Platoon’s area, one bomb landing beside a machine gun position on an ant hill, burying the crew, Privates James Tahany and Edward Gormley, both from Sligo. Sergeant John Monaghan, reacting quickly, dug out and pulled a shocked Private Tahany clear and neither he nor Private Gormley were seriously injured. A second aerial attack later missed its target and exploded on the side of the road. The continual strafing from the air had, however, damaged all of A Company’s scarce means of transport, eliminating the possibility of an escape. They would have to continue to fight it out on the ground.
Checking all-round defence and fields of fire of defensive position at Jadotville.
Courtesy of the Military Archives, Dublin
A shell crater from the bombardment of Jadotville.
Courtesy of the Military Archives, Dublin
Over the previous two days, the enemy had made up to ten attacks on their positions, but A Company knew they had inflicted heavy casualties on their attackers with relatively few, lightly wounded, casualties of their own. In No. 3 Platoon’s location, Lieutenant Noel Carey decided to rotate those in the platoon’s front trenches, as they had been under most fire for nearly three days with little rest. Then came more incoming 81mm mortar fire, and it was specifically accurate. The first rounds landed 100 metres in front of No. 3 Platoon’s forward trench, followed by another salvo which landed the same distance behind the trench. Lieutenant Carey reckoned that if the crews were bracketing their fire correctly, and it seemed certain they were, the trench he and the others were occupying must surely be hit by the next mortar salvo fired. He ordered everyone out of the trench, staying behind to man the Bren gun and ready to put up a defence if the enemy sent in an assault under the cover of this mortar barrage.
As the others rushed for the safety of the shelter of the rear trenches, Lieutenant Carey contemplated his precarious position and thought of his fiancé and family at home in Ireland. It came as little consolation to realise he had actually volunteered for this. Survival was foremost in his mind and with little time for prayers he nonetheless made a hurried pact with Saint Jude (patron saint of hopeless cases) that should he survive, his first child would be called Jude. This first child is now a serving Lieutenant Colonel with the Irish Defence Forces, Lieutenant Colonel Paul Jude Carey. Nonetheless, it was a dreadful feeling to be so defenceless, waiting in dread for the arrival of the next salvo of mortar bombs. To his surprise the mortar fire moved away to his right and he got back to his Platoon HQ trench safely and set about completing the rotation of his platoon among the trenches. They were determined to hold out, and demonstrated this with ongoing mortar, machine gun and small arms exchanges with the enemy throughout the day.
Late afternoon, as was now customary, there was a CO conference at Company HQ. Complimenting the Platoons on their efforts over the previous three days, Commandant Quinlan announced that a relief attempt was on its way. By dusk ‘Force Keane 2’ would be at Lufira Bridge and they were expected to break through at first light the next day. The platoon Commanders were delighted but went on to report that scarcity of water remained a problem and they were trying desperately to conserve what they had. Food too had become scarce, though despite all this morale remained high. However, the heat, dust and fatigue was taking its toll. Commandant Quinlan informed them that during his frequent phone exchanges with the Burgermeister the threat of a mob from the town attacking them was made repeatedly.
The platoon commanders returned to their trenches and passed on the good news that a relief column was on its way and they could expect to be relieved. Needing to drink, the troops were using tablets to purify the water in their water bottles from which they conservatively sipped throughout the night. It tasted horrible, yet having defied such huge odds nothing could taint the taste of victory they all felt. They stood at their posts eagerly awaiting the morning.
Next morning, Saturday 16 September, the Irish troops watched through tired eyes as the sun came up. All was quiet, then the distinct crunch of mortar rounds impacting and machine gun fire was heard from the direction of Lufira Bridge. A Company were elated; relief at last. The cacophony of machine guns and mortars was music to their ears, a richly orchestrated composition whose arrangement filled their senses, emotions and heads with the thought of freedom. Play it loud, play it long, play it any way you like, just keep playing, and with the final score’s joyful crescendo, let the exhilarating climax lift the soul and lift the siege. Then, just as suddenly, the Fouga jet came along the valley. It ignored A Company in Jadotville and instead headed straight for Lufira Bridge. The relief column, ‘Force Keane 2’, was just as exposed to aerial attack as was A Company. More so, in fact, for they were in the open and not dug in. But would it matter? Would the bombing be accurate? Could ‘Force Keane 2’, this time with the advantage of an additional Gurkha unit, achieve a favourable outcome where three days earlier ‘Force Keane 1’ had not? In the event, the combined effect of the Fouga jet’s bombing and a heavily reinforced Katangan and mercenary defence caused fatal casualties and chaos. In time ‘Force Keane 2’ would return to Élisabethville.
As before there were no communications between the relief column and A Company, so it was a while before A Company realised that they were once again having to stand alone. This time it would be under much harder circumstances. Seriously fatigued, dehydrated and with supplies of ammunition running low but not yet exhausted, food scarce and water all but gone, matters were bleak and the prospect grim. After one last sustained exchange it would be down to hand-to-hand fighting or the prospect of a brave but futile bayonet charge! It was as dramatic as that. The situation was critical and no one was sure they could hold out.
Around noon, still unaware of the final outcome of the fighting at Lufira Bridge, A Company heard the blades of a helicopter coming from Élisabethville. It was a UN helicopter, bravely piloted by Norwegian Lieutenant Bjorn Hovden and co-piloted by Swedish Warrant Officer Eric Thors. They had volunteered, at extreme risk to themselves and with the possibility of being shot out of the sky by the Fouga jet, to fly a supply of water to the besieged Irish company. Despite having developed engine problems en route they persisted, and on arrival needed assistance to find a suitable landing place. Aware of the situation, Company Quartermaster Sergeant Pat Neville and Corporal Bob Allen broke cover and laid down bedsheets as markers on some even ground in No. 3 Platoon’s area for them to land safely. As they did so they drew a huge volume of fire from the Katangan and mercenary troops. Doing so, however, revealed the position of the newly placed support weapons and with most of what ammunition they had left, the Irish laid down a hail of accurate fire that lasted nearly two hours. Many of the native Katangans fled into the bush, but in the exchange the helicopter was damaged and rendered unfit to fly.
It was soon discovered, cruelly, that the UN pilots had risked their lives in vain as the much-needed water was useless. It had been poured into petrol jerry-cans which had not been sufficiently washed out and the water was undrinkable. The attack faltered and a lull occurred. At this point, Lieutenant Carey’s radio operator, Private Myler, asked: ‘Sir, would real war be anything like this?’ Carey’s mood lightened and it was further lifted when, along with the water supply, some mail was delivered and he was one of the lucky ones. Eagerly opening it he found it was a bill for two pounds from a book club back home!
The Irish decided to hit the Katangans and mercenaries again, this time for a full hour with sustained small arms and support weapon fire, and the resolve of the Katangans was broken. It had become a rout, and in order to dissuade others from taking flight into the scrub the white officers were seen shooting their own men, native Katangans, in an attempt to stem the situation. The Irish had won the fire fight but now what? The Burgermeister, similarly unaware of the outcome yet to be reached at Lufira Bridge, contacted Commandant Quinlan asking for a cease fire. From Quinlan’s perspective, at that time, he knew that a UN Relief Column had reached Lufira Bridge; a UN helicopter had successfully landed with supplies; A Company were continuing to hold out; and a breakthrough at the Lufira Bridge was imminent.
In reply, from a position of perceived strength, Commandant Quinlan laid down the following conditions; all firing was to cease; a cordon should be set up and a no man’s land area, to be patrolled by Katangan Police and A Company; the Fouga jet should be grounded; all Katangan troops to be returned to barracks; water and power supply restored; and, finally, casualties to be evacuated. All these demands were agreed by the Burgermeister and Battalion HQ notified. All A Company wanted to happen now was to greet the Relief Column on their arrival in Jadotville. For the first time in three days they could safely leave their trenches and greet each other, tell of their experiences and take photographs. Some of No. 3 Platoon actually played football with the Katangan police on the roadway beside the Purfina garage.
Late that night Commandant Quinlan called a hurried conference for all officers and Company Sergeant Prendergast. He congratulated them all on their actions over the past few days then to their shock and disbelief he announced that ‘Force Keane 2’ had returned to Élisabethville. Battalion HQ had sent a message to hold on since UN jets would arrive in Élisabethville soon (in fact it was to take two months for them to arrive). The platoon commanders were not to give this news to their platoons that night as they were fully sure they had won the battle. The platoon commanders spent a sleepless night because they realised their position was now precarious. The initiative had swung to the Katangans, still with a large force disproportionately outnumbering A Company. Their position was indeed hazardous, to say the least.
The Irish had held their ground, fought the Katangans and the mercenaries to a standstill and acceded to a cease fire, which so far was holding. However, the Irish situation was perilous. They were starved, parched and exhausted, without ammunition or reinforcements, unable to resupply and without air cover. Despite the previously agreed arrangements, the Fouga jet reappeared and flew over the Irish positions but did not attack them.
At around 1400 hours on Sunday 17 September, Commandant Quinlan decided to go into Jadotville, with the Swedish co-pilot, Warrant Officer Eric Thors acting as interpreter, to see if he could get the water supply restored. On entering the town, with two Katangan Police as escort, he went into a local bar that was crowded with mercenaries. When they saw him the shout went up: ‘Le Majeur Irlandais’, and everyone present stood up and saluted. Some showed him their wounds and asked how many Irish had been killed. They were incredulous when they learned that there were none. He returned shortly with some crates of minerals.
Despite this brief respectful exchange, Commandant Quinlan was becoming increasingly concerned for the safety of A Company, as it was noticeable that Katangan troops were encroaching into no man’s land, a third violation of the agreement. His difficulty was that in any further negotiations Commandant Quinlan was all too aware that he would not be doing so from a position of strength. He did not have long to muse over matters because he received a message from the Burgermeister that Godefroid Munongo, Minister for the Interior, wished to meet him urgently. He departed with the Chaplain and the interpreter and all were concerned for his safety.
At what turned out to be an angry meeting, Munongo first said the Irish had fought well but they must cease fighting and leave their positions and heavy weapons. He stressed they were cut off and surrounded by 2,000 Katangan troops. Commandant Quinlan stated that the UN were there to restore peace in the Congo and they were only defending themselves from an unprovoked attack. Munongo insisted they vacate their positions on Monday morning or they would be annihilated. Commandant Quinlan stated that UN aircraft were on the way and would bomb Jadotville if the Irish forces were attacked. Munongo knew that this was a bluff and it would take months for UN aircraft to reach Katanga. He gave a final ultimatum to Commandant Quinlan to lay down their weapons or be wiped out. Commandant Quinlan had to inform Minister Munongo of his decision within two hours.
Commandant Quinlan returned to A Company HQ and immediately called an officers conference. It turned out to be a highly charged meeting. Commandant Quinlan outlined the details of the meeting and the demands of Munongo. He congratulated all officers, NCOs and men on their action, and then laid out A Company’s precarious position. The troops were exhausted after nearly a weeks’ action, under fire; water had been cut off for days and was almost gone; food was low and they had received no resupply since the previous week. Ammunition was nearly completely expended and the two armoured cars could not use their Vickers machine guns as all the locks were damaged, having fired almost 10,000 rounds. It was essential to have this firepower and to break out they would have to travel ten miles through hostile territory to Lufira Bridge and without support fight their way fifty miles back to Élisabethville. Finally, two abortive efforts had already been made to relieve them and it would take a week or more for another effort. Too late for them to hold out without severe casualties.
All officers were asked to give their opinion. The platoon commanders wanted to fight on, but realised how difficult this was under the circumstances. They also realised there was no hope of an escape and their casualties would only get worse. They went through every possibility but there was no hope of early relief. In the end it was left to Commandant Quinlan to make the critical decision. This was a huge judgement call, one the on-ground commander was best placed to make. He had ‘mission command’ throughout the previous days’ perils and had displayed to one and all, friend and foe, that he was a soldier destined for just such an operation. Now he had to have the strength of mind to make a decisive determination. It was one of the most dreadful decisions for any troop commander to make. He contacted Battalion HQ informing them of their situation, to be told that aircraft were on the way and to hold out for a cease fire that was being organised in Élisabethville. He stated that the situation facing A Company was desperate, they were totally surrounded, cut off, running out of ammunition, water and food and needed to be relieved immediately.
After this communication with Battalion HQ it became apparent to him that he had to agree terms with Munongo, who assured him that A Company would be fully protected from reprisals or attack. Courageous decision made, he ordered the platoon commanders to inform their troops. Lieutenant Carey recalls:
That night I addressed my Platoon with a very heavy heart and I found they did not fully comprehend the seriousness of the situation and were convinced they had won. I ordered them to pack up their kit to be ready to move on Monday morning and we destroyed as many weapons as we could. As I packed my kit with Lieutenant Tom Quinlan that night we were both shocked, shattered and disappointed that after all our fighting and successes it should come down to this. It is indescribable how dreadful was this feeling of uncertainty as to our fate and frustration that we had failed to hold out. Nonetheless, I was still Platoon Commander No. 3 Platoon with responsibility for my men.
This sense of responsibility was shared by all the officers, NCOs and men of A Company, and it would see them through a five and a half week period of captivity that would ultimately bring them all home safely to Ireland, having displayed much bravery and dedication in the cause of peace in the Congo.
