syscom3
Pacific Historian
Today being the 64th anniversary of that ill fated raid, my local newspaper printed this story.
News - A raid remembered
A raid remembered
The failed Dieppe Raid, 64 years ago today, helped prepare the Allies for D-Day.
By TOM BERG
The Orange County RegisterANAHEIM HILLS – Gunpowder and bodies – that's what he'll smell today.
The bloody sea wall – that's what he'll see.
And an old classmate he went into battle with – that's who he'll talk with again. Though none will be there. They've all been gone 64 years.
That's how long it's been since Harold Scharfe, now 84, of Anaheim Hills, stormed the beach at Dieppe, France. Today the last few survivors of the Dieppe Raid will dedicate a memorial on the rocky beach.
That's not such an unusual thing. But the Dieppe Raid was.
"You say to yourself, why was I allowed to survive?" says Scharfe. "You just feel the next one is going to be you. How can you possibly not die when you see them dying all around you, falling down, arms going up in the air, heads blown off and the stench?"
The plan called for a surprise attack, under cover of darkness, to show Hitler that the Allied forces could land anytime, anywhere. But there in the darkness, 64 years ago today, something went horribly wrong – sending 6,100 men into a trap.
LIGHTNING STRIKE
Harold Scharfe was a high school sophomore when he tucked his unopened bottle of Coke on a drugstore shelf.
He'd just enlisted in the Essex Scottish Regiment of the Canadian Army. Each boy who signed up in Windsor, Ontario, drank one Coke, then placed a full bottle with his name on the shelf behind a sign reading: "Let's hope they drink them!"
"We wanted to see how many would return to drink the other Coke," says Scharfe. "We did have a celebration later, and only eight of us showed up – of roughly 50."
The rest are buried at Dieppe.
The raid is now viewed as one of the worst military disasters of World War II. But as the summer of 1942 heated up, the invasion code-named Jubilee seemed like the key to success.
The Nazis had already stormed west across Europe. They'd driven south into Athens. And east to Stalingrad in quest of Russia's oil fields. Paris was taken, and Hitler stood perched a mere 25 miles from the coast of England.
Before the Allies could launch a full frontal attack, they needed to test Germany's defenses along the coast of France. That test fell upon 5,000 Canadian troops supported by 1,000 British Commandos and 50 American Rangers.
It was designed as a lightning strike – a one-day raid. But it would take Harold Scharfe 33 months to walk away.
THE APPROACH
Canadian troops were issued rope en route to Dieppe to tie the hands of German prisoners.
Scharfe, a corporal in charge of 10 men, also carried a Thompson submachine gun and enough rations for three meals.
"We were supposed to go in for a day, do our jobs and get picked up by the ships, then go back to England," he says.
The raid was not the start of an Allied ground invasion – still two years away. But if Hitler thought it was, he'd divert troops from the Eastern front, helping Russia. It also would serve as a dry run for D-Day.
So it was that before dawn, an armada of 237 ships began sending 6,100 men over the sides, into landing craft. Overhead, 74 squadrons of planes rumbled.
"We were real confident," Scharfe says. "We'd been in England training for two years and we wanted action."
The plan called for commandos to sneak in before dawn to take out gun emplacements on the cliffs overlooking the beach. The Canadians would then mount a full frontal assault.
Everything depended on stealth and surprise. Which evaporated when commandos ran into some German patrol boats. A firefight ensued. With tracer bullets and flares.
"It lit up the English Channel," Scharfe says, "like a Christmas tree."
THE SEA WALL
It took about an hour for the landing boats to reach shore. Plenty of time for the Germans to prepare.
"I saw guys getting it as we jumped out," Scharfe says. "We jumped over dead bodies, arms flying and stomachs."
Their only chance was a rock sea wall the Germans had built along the beach to stop Allied tanks in such an attack. That's where the troops huddled against machine-gun fire and mortar attacks. For nine hours. Until they had no more bullets. And no hope of getting out.
"The Navy boats were getting blown out of the water," says Scharfe. "There were all kinds of wounded. Guys were crying. Guys were saying, 'Shoot me.' I had a very close buddy – we held hands and said, 'This is it.'
Finally, about 3 p.m., a Canadian officer held up a white flag, and the men threw down their guns. Germans swarmed the beach: "Raus! Raus!" they yelled – Out! Out!
Some 5,000 Canadians had landed on Dieppe Beach that morning. By sundown, 3,367 of them had been killed, wounded or captured. Among the captured was a young man pushed onto a train bound for Stalag VIIIB outside Breslau, Germany – a young man who would wait nearly three years to drink his Coke back in Windsor, Ontario.
'DIE LIKE BRAVE MEN'
Harold Scharfe is tethered to an oxygen machine round-the-clock these days. So his son Raymond bought him a 12-pound portable "concentrator" for the trip.
Scharfe wouldn't miss this. They'll dedicate a monument on the beach, hold a candlelight vigil and visit the regiment's cemetery.
"To look at the gravestones is tough," he says. "These were guys I was in class with. Leo Trombley – he's one of the guys I said goodbye to in the boat – I actually kissed the headstone, I got so wrapped up in it one year. It's very emotional."
Not all Dieppe survivors could attend. Ross Pennington, 86, of Penticton, British Columbia, will slip the videotape "Die Like Brave Men" into his VCR today and think about the raid, as he does every Aug. 19.
"Oh yeah, it's always with you," he says. "You never forget it."
Scharfe came back from the war – after stays in four German prisoner-of-war camps – with nightmares, flashbacks and post-traumatic stress disorder.
"My wife and I still sleep in separate bedrooms because of that," he says. "And I'm on medication."
So why return to Dieppe?
"That was the biggest thing in my life," he says. "I was lucky enough to have missed the bullets and mortar shells."
Lucky enough to return to Windsor to drink a Coke under the sign that read: "Let's hope they drink them!"
Knowing that most did not.
News - A raid remembered
A raid remembered
The failed Dieppe Raid, 64 years ago today, helped prepare the Allies for D-Day.
By TOM BERG
The Orange County RegisterANAHEIM HILLS – Gunpowder and bodies – that's what he'll smell today.
The bloody sea wall – that's what he'll see.
And an old classmate he went into battle with – that's who he'll talk with again. Though none will be there. They've all been gone 64 years.
That's how long it's been since Harold Scharfe, now 84, of Anaheim Hills, stormed the beach at Dieppe, France. Today the last few survivors of the Dieppe Raid will dedicate a memorial on the rocky beach.
That's not such an unusual thing. But the Dieppe Raid was.
"You say to yourself, why was I allowed to survive?" says Scharfe. "You just feel the next one is going to be you. How can you possibly not die when you see them dying all around you, falling down, arms going up in the air, heads blown off and the stench?"
The plan called for a surprise attack, under cover of darkness, to show Hitler that the Allied forces could land anytime, anywhere. But there in the darkness, 64 years ago today, something went horribly wrong – sending 6,100 men into a trap.
LIGHTNING STRIKE
Harold Scharfe was a high school sophomore when he tucked his unopened bottle of Coke on a drugstore shelf.
He'd just enlisted in the Essex Scottish Regiment of the Canadian Army. Each boy who signed up in Windsor, Ontario, drank one Coke, then placed a full bottle with his name on the shelf behind a sign reading: "Let's hope they drink them!"
"We wanted to see how many would return to drink the other Coke," says Scharfe. "We did have a celebration later, and only eight of us showed up – of roughly 50."
The rest are buried at Dieppe.
The raid is now viewed as one of the worst military disasters of World War II. But as the summer of 1942 heated up, the invasion code-named Jubilee seemed like the key to success.
The Nazis had already stormed west across Europe. They'd driven south into Athens. And east to Stalingrad in quest of Russia's oil fields. Paris was taken, and Hitler stood perched a mere 25 miles from the coast of England.
Before the Allies could launch a full frontal attack, they needed to test Germany's defenses along the coast of France. That test fell upon 5,000 Canadian troops supported by 1,000 British Commandos and 50 American Rangers.
It was designed as a lightning strike – a one-day raid. But it would take Harold Scharfe 33 months to walk away.
THE APPROACH
Canadian troops were issued rope en route to Dieppe to tie the hands of German prisoners.
Scharfe, a corporal in charge of 10 men, also carried a Thompson submachine gun and enough rations for three meals.
"We were supposed to go in for a day, do our jobs and get picked up by the ships, then go back to England," he says.
The raid was not the start of an Allied ground invasion – still two years away. But if Hitler thought it was, he'd divert troops from the Eastern front, helping Russia. It also would serve as a dry run for D-Day.
So it was that before dawn, an armada of 237 ships began sending 6,100 men over the sides, into landing craft. Overhead, 74 squadrons of planes rumbled.
"We were real confident," Scharfe says. "We'd been in England training for two years and we wanted action."
The plan called for commandos to sneak in before dawn to take out gun emplacements on the cliffs overlooking the beach. The Canadians would then mount a full frontal assault.
Everything depended on stealth and surprise. Which evaporated when commandos ran into some German patrol boats. A firefight ensued. With tracer bullets and flares.
"It lit up the English Channel," Scharfe says, "like a Christmas tree."
THE SEA WALL
It took about an hour for the landing boats to reach shore. Plenty of time for the Germans to prepare.
"I saw guys getting it as we jumped out," Scharfe says. "We jumped over dead bodies, arms flying and stomachs."
Their only chance was a rock sea wall the Germans had built along the beach to stop Allied tanks in such an attack. That's where the troops huddled against machine-gun fire and mortar attacks. For nine hours. Until they had no more bullets. And no hope of getting out.
"The Navy boats were getting blown out of the water," says Scharfe. "There were all kinds of wounded. Guys were crying. Guys were saying, 'Shoot me.' I had a very close buddy – we held hands and said, 'This is it.'
Finally, about 3 p.m., a Canadian officer held up a white flag, and the men threw down their guns. Germans swarmed the beach: "Raus! Raus!" they yelled – Out! Out!
Some 5,000 Canadians had landed on Dieppe Beach that morning. By sundown, 3,367 of them had been killed, wounded or captured. Among the captured was a young man pushed onto a train bound for Stalag VIIIB outside Breslau, Germany – a young man who would wait nearly three years to drink his Coke back in Windsor, Ontario.
'DIE LIKE BRAVE MEN'
Harold Scharfe is tethered to an oxygen machine round-the-clock these days. So his son Raymond bought him a 12-pound portable "concentrator" for the trip.
Scharfe wouldn't miss this. They'll dedicate a monument on the beach, hold a candlelight vigil and visit the regiment's cemetery.
"To look at the gravestones is tough," he says. "These were guys I was in class with. Leo Trombley – he's one of the guys I said goodbye to in the boat – I actually kissed the headstone, I got so wrapped up in it one year. It's very emotional."
Not all Dieppe survivors could attend. Ross Pennington, 86, of Penticton, British Columbia, will slip the videotape "Die Like Brave Men" into his VCR today and think about the raid, as he does every Aug. 19.
"Oh yeah, it's always with you," he says. "You never forget it."
Scharfe came back from the war – after stays in four German prisoner-of-war camps – with nightmares, flashbacks and post-traumatic stress disorder.
"My wife and I still sleep in separate bedrooms because of that," he says. "And I'm on medication."
So why return to Dieppe?
"That was the biggest thing in my life," he says. "I was lucky enough to have missed the bullets and mortar shells."
Lucky enough to return to Windsor to drink a Coke under the sign that read: "Let's hope they drink them!"
Knowing that most did not.
