Chapter 8, River Dyle, Belgium, 1700 14 May 1940
The Highlanders retreated past Belsay’s company. Now returned to their parent regiment, 2nd Battalion the Durham Light Infantry, Belsay and his men were resting by the road before relieving another company.
“Let ‘em through,” he wearily called to his men. Now, as the company parted to let the Scotsmen through, Belsay saw again the ferocity of this German offensive.
“Company, take cover!” The files split, making use of the cover offered by the roadside. A weary Lieutenant, Hylton, ran up to Belsay.
“Major Belsay, Sir. Colonel’s compliments, and can you come up to the hill.” Belsay nodded and with the help of Holgate and Rollins roused the weary company. The bombardment was intense, the artillery fire exceptionally accurate.
Reaching the crest of the ridge Belsay tried to appreciate the situation. The DLI were defending a position 2000 yards across, twice the drillbook recommendation and a thin line against a fierce opponent. Worse still, 2 DLI had been forced back from the riverbank, defending the higher ground a few metres back and allowing the Germans an opportunity to send men in boats across the shallow, gentle, River Dyle.
“Hullo Dickie, it looks like we’re your relief,” Belsay greeted Second Lieutenant Annand, a young officer whose platoon guarded the sector overlooking a crucial bridge.
“Sir, if you could provide covering fire for my boys I’d be grateful. They’re creeping over the bridge and making it hot over here.” As if on cue, a bullet whistled by. “I think they’re trying to rebuild the bridge.”
“Count on it Dickie, and good hunting!”
Gathering his men, Annand gave a quick brief and as one they ran forward. The Germans, trying to build new bridge from the rubble of the old, were surprised. Corporal Steven “Swampy” Marsh picked off the officers, before running forward to finish off the rest. As their commander reinforced his position, the Wehrmacht defenders became more stubborn.
“Sir, I’m out of ammo!” That was Marsh. Most of his platoon were also out of ammunition. As the Germans began to push infantry forward to consolidate the position Annand grabbed a handful of grenades and charged forward, running up the road towards the ruined bridge.
“Covering fire, c’mon, support him,” Belsay cried.
“Mad bastard,” Holgate muttered.
Annand, ducking to avoid the German fire, reached the bridge, dodging the German infantry. He paused, caught his breath, and threw grenades into the German position. A score of them fell with the remainder grabbing rifles. A shot plucked at Annand’s shoulder and he staggered back, before throwing himself forward. His platoon dragged him to safety and dressed his wound.
A sudden burst of fire from his southern-most platoon showed Belsay another attempt to cross the river, this time in boats. Clods of earth were thrown up around the entrenched DLI.
“Oh Christ. Tom, get your buggers down there, now!” Rollins, grabbing everyone he could find, sprinted down towards the riverbank. At once the rattle of machine gun fire cut him and most of his men down. Belsay broke cover and ran to help the wounded. A hand gripped his arm.
“Sir, for God’s sake stop pissing about and get back to the company!” A screaming noise sounded over the riverbank. Holgate unceremoniously pushed his Company CO to the ground and, kneeling beside him pointed to the skies.
“The bastards have got friends,” he offered Belsay a cigarette. “Orders?”
“Find out who’s left in battalion and pull back I think,” he paused and pointed to the bridge. “The buggers are coming back! Mr Annand, look out!”
But Annand had seen the renewed effort to capture the bridge. Once again, he ran forward with grenades and struggled to repulse the German effort. An orderly reached Belsay’s position.
“Sir, orders from the CO. Battalion withdrawal.” Holgate, crouching next to Belsay wordlessly turned and carried the order down the Company lines.
Annand, the order received, also ordered his platoon to fall back. As the roll was taken it was obvious that Private Hunter was the only man not to survive.
“To hell with that,” Annand shouted. Grabbing a rifle, he ran forward to the platoon’s former position. Behind him, 2 DLI continued to fall back. Annand, stalking through the scrub and bracken growing along the Dyle’s gentle bank, finally found his errant batman, heavily wounded and unable to walk. A few hundred yards behind them, Belsay and Holgate had stopped to watch.
“I told you he was a mad bastard,” Holgate mumbled wryly.
“Quiet! He’s trying to drag him along!” Belsay pulled out his binoculars. “I think. Bloody hell you’re right Sergeant, mad. Here, have a look. Company, give him your help!” As the weary company again took positions, cheering broke out as Annand reached the crest of the rise, pushing his batman in a wheelbarrow. As he collapsed hal.f of Belsay's company ran forward to assist
Belsay put down his rifle. “Cease fire!” He started to scribble in his notebook. Holgate raised an eyebrow. “It’s for the Colonel. I’m going to recommend young Dickie for a gong.”
[Game Effect] – 2Lt Dickie Annand indeed gained a VC at the Dyle, though I’ve altered the detail slightly (for example Private Hunter had to be abandoned – he would later die in a Dutch hospital). 2 DLI’s war continues.
El Pip: Halifax has clearly erred by giving Churchill power to run the war. Though a buffoon he will show moments of cunning...
Trekadict: Don't get excited just yet.
Nathan Madien: Halifax, as we'll soon see, isn't coping too well with the war.