|
|
Jersey
Page 9 - Philip
Frederick Le Sauteur |
|
CHAPTER TWO (SECTION 2) The Early Days of the Occupation These hotel buildings could accommodate a considerable number of people, and at the beginning of the occupation the number of troops actually needing accommodation was not so very large, so that the hotels could house them without difficulty. This easy position, however, was not to continue indefinitely, although the interval afforded time enough for those controlling billeting to study the matter in the light of what would almost certainly follow — a considerable influx of troops, probably other types of "visitors". The Germans, naturally, were in position of vantage here, for they would know almost precisely what they intended doing in the Islands, and how those troops and other personnel would be brought in. The local authorities obviously had to view conditions from a more academic standpoint; and one feels that their ruminations would not give them any real peace or ease of mind. The immobilization of the Islands' defences did not mean that Jersey would remain defenceless. So that larger influxes of troops were a foregone conclusion to all who had a realistic outlook. And that would mean more and more accommodation would be needed for the unwelcome visitors. That meant, in other words, the billeting of troops in private houses, either wholly or partially. More and still more German officers and men did arrive as time went on, and despite the very considerable amount of billeting facilities in the numerous hotels ( and these were filled to capacity), Victoria College had to be taken over at short notice, this being filled with some hundreds of the Hitler Youth. In addition, a large number of houses were taken over, and the occupants given three to seven days in which to secure alternative accommodation. At the beginning, in order to keep within the dictates of International Law, owners were not expelled, but they had troops billeted on them, which in most instances resulted in the people getting out of their own homes. But later on, this concession to law was dispensed with, and there were frequent cases of people being evicted from houses which suited the requirements of the troops. Numerous stores were commandeered for the storage of foodstuffs, for the steadily increasing number of the armed forces. A part of the General Hospital had been taken over for the use of Germans, but now Merton Hotel was fitted out as a hospital entirely for German use. In addition to the troops arriving, many were leaving the Island, and it was noted that these men were equipped with greatcoats, and so were presumably en route for the Russian Front. In spite of this, however, the arrivals considerably outnumbered those who left, and streets were daily crowded with all grades of army and airforce, all trying to spend their worthless Marks in almost empty shops. About the middle of November, 1941, the local Girls' College was commandeered, and all householders were required to furnish details of the number of occupants and rooms in their houses in order that billeting arrangements might be made. The arrival of a Red Cross plane escorted by fighters, and a parade of several hundreds of troops with two bands and all etceteras indicated that some important General was making a visit. He was reputed to be von Muller, and he was supposed to have found fault with the immense number of troops in the Island, and to have been responsible for the falling through of the billeting order. Towards the end of July the servicemen who had been interned locally were transferred to a prisoner-of-war camp on the continent. The German Luftwaffe was using the Island airport as a fighter station, and every day bombers in their dozens circled overhead whilst picking up their fighter escorts and getting into formation for raids over the west country. Comparing their departures with the B.B.C. news, it appeared the squadrons stationed in Jersey had the targets in the area from Portland, westwards, and including South Wales. Several planes were reported as having crashed either into the sea or on the airport or its approaches during the first month of the occupation of the Island, although most of the reports lacked confirmation. On August Bank Holiday, 1940, all beaches were closed, as well as all fishing stopped. The rumoured reason for these movements was — bodies were being washed ashore! Certainly a lot of soldiers were busy at the waters edge. After the lapse of a few days the ban was lifted except for boat fishing, which had been permitted under licence within the three-mile limit, this ban holding good for a week. A very considerable propaganda value was derived from the mere occupation of the Islands, and many photographs of the beauty spots appeared in the German press. A German band gave several open-air performances, with photographers in attendance to catch the pleased expressions of the faces of those people who were foolish enough to stand and listen. Another device which was resorted to was to gather a crowd around a loudspeaker van by playing records, and then, with the aid of a catch question, to include people to put up their hands, thus giving a photographic record of British people giving the Nazi salute. On another occasion, a cine-camera was seen operating from a car driven through the streets of the town. Tales were told of photographs appearing in the German press of the Jersey streets being decorated with white flags, each of which had a swastika superimposed on it. Other photographs appearing in the German papers included one of a local bus garage with flames and a blazing plane worked in the background, the latter too clearly marked with the R.A.F. rings — ostensibly to prove, as justification for the bombing raid, that there were British aircraft factories in the Island. Less than two months after the occupation began, Jersey's first Commandant, Captain Gussek, was left in charge of the military forces only, the civil administration being taken over by another German officer, Colonel Schumakker. It can be truthfully recorded that both of these officers were at all times just in their dealings with the population. The news film of the occupation of the Islands was shown locally. This included pictures of the barges loading cars, lorries and buses, sub-titled The First Spoils of British Occupation. Even in those early days, the activities of the R.A.F. on the surrounding coast of France could be clearly heard, and even felt, from as far afield as Cherbourg, which is about 45 miles distance. A small raid on Guernsey caused some jealousy in the sister Island which, with characteristic insularity, considered itself at least equally as important, and therefore should have been included in the itinerary. Early on Sunday morning, August 25th, an R.A.F. plane which was returning from a raid on the aerodrome at Dinard, was fired upon by A.A. guns near the airport. Getting annoyed about this, the plane dropped a bomb right into the middle, of the gun pit, completely wrecking the gun and killing the crew. During this period the British planes were making the surrounding coast of France look like a Brock's benefit night. The light A.A. guns on the Island went into action on several occasions during the night, seemingly firing at random, for the searchlights used were very poor, and they seamed to be handled in an haphazard fashion. All this activity resulted in a general reshuffle of guns to different positions, and in a great deal of air activity, the Luftwaffe being moved to new and (they hoped) safer stations, in anticipation of further attention by the R.A.F. During the very early days, before communication was established with our sister Island of Guernsey, Jersey had heard of — but, incidentally, did accept as factual — the tale that two British Naval officers and four ratings had landed (and this, presumably, from a submarine) in Guernsey. The fact that this story actually turned out to be correct, was accepted as proof that, in spite of the death penalty threatened for this particular offence, a radio transmitter was operating in Guernsey. The German official version, as declared in the many posters displayed in the town, was that the two officers had been sheltered in their own homes and that, as a punishment, their respective wives had been taken over to France with orders to keep at least nine miles from the coast, and to report to the Feldcommandant daily. It is singular that no mention whatever was made of the fate of the two officers, and it was generally presumed that they, as well as the men, got away safely after completing their job of espionage. In all probability the Germans did not discover what had taken place until it was too late, and then only because there was too much talk about it. The continued presence of British planes in the vicinity, as evidenced by the almost perpetual "crumps" of falling bombs, resulted in an overdose of black-out jitters, and many threats about signaling to the "enemy". No lights of any sort were permitted, and cycling in the dark with the German vehicles, also without lights, was quite an adventure in itself. Tales were also told about rifle shots being fired at those who had been seen lighting cigarettes in the open. In instances where lights in houses were inadvertently left on without black-outs, the patrols were in the habit of shooting them out. |
Seach
engine / Engin de recherche
Type
a keyword / Tapez un mot clé