Eastern Approaches (54 page)

While I was in England I also met some of the British officers who had been attached to General Mihajlović’s Headquarters and had recently, after various adventures, been evacuated and returned to England. Mr. Churchill himself presided over one of these meetings, which was held at Chequers. We found there was little or no disagreement between us as to the facts. It was common ground that the Četniks, though in the main well disposed towards Great Britain, were militarily less effective than the Partisans and that some of Mihajlović’s subordinates had undoubtedly reached accommodations with the enemy. I was interested to find that some of those who knew him best, while liking and respecting him as a man, had little opinion of Mihajlović as a leader. They felt that, under new and more determined leadership and with better discipline, the relatively weak Četnik detachments could, in Serbia at any rate, be built up into a force which could play an important part in the liberation of their country.

But at this stage such a reorganization was no longer a practical proposition. Two years earlier something of the kind might have been possible. Indeed, had action on the right lines been taken soon enough, it might have been possible to weld Partisans and Četniks into one unified resistance movement. Now Tito was in a position to dictate his terms and the only condition of co-operation which he was prepared to offer the Četniks was absorption in the Partisan ranks, an offer of which many were to avail themselves.

A few days after my visit to Chequers I received a telephone message from Buckingham Palace to say that the King wished to see me. He wanted, it appeared, a first-hand account of the Jugoslav situation. I was surprised at this, for it seemed to me remarkable that His Majesty should have time to interest himself in what was after all only a relatively minor question of policy, by comparison with the great issues that confronted him at that time. I was even more astonished to find, as soon as he started talking, that the King knew as much or more about the Jugoslav problem as anyone I had met since I had been back in England. He also took an entirely realistic view of it. But what seemed to interest him most was the purely military side of my activities. In fact I gained the impression that there was nothing he would have liked better than to try his own hand at irregular warfare.

I soon became so absorbed in our conversation that I almost forgot where I was and to whom I was speaking. Then I remembered with a start that the young, alert-looking man in R.A.F. uniform sitting facing me in an armchair on the other side of the fireplace was the King of England. I went away very much impressed.

A day or two later I had completed my business and was preparing to start back, when a signal arrived from Vivian Street, now back in Bosnia. It was very short, only a couple of sentences. It had every possible indication of priority, and it was the kind of communication that took your breath away. It announced that the enemy had made a large-scale airborne attack on Partisan Headquarters with glider and parachute troops; that the Partisans had suffered heavy casualties, although Tito himself was believed to be safe; that the Mission had so
far managed to escape capture, although whether they would do so for much longer was uncertain, for they were in the woods with strong enemy forces closing in on them from all sides.

We waited anxiously for more news. When it came it was only slightly more reassuring. Vivian and his party had joined up again with Tito and with the surviving Partisan Headquarter troops. But they were still on the run, the enemy having followed up their airborne attack with an all-out offensive.

On the receipt of this news, urgent instructions were sent to the R.A.F. in Italy to give the Partisans all possible help from the air. A few days later the situation was sufficiently stable for it to be possible to land aircraft on an improvised landing-strip and evacuate Tito and his staff and the British, American and Soviet Missions.

Having in the meantime reached Italy, I now heard for the first time a full account of what had happened.

A few days after Vivian reached Partisan Headquarters an incident had occurred which aroused his suspicion. One morning a single German aircraft made its appearance over the valley, and, instead of dropping bombs or machine-gunning, as these aerial visitors usually did, had spent half an hour or more flying slowly up and down at a height of about two thousand feet. Each time it passed directly over the little house on the rising ground outside the village where he and the others were living. Standing outside in the orchard, in the warm spring sunshine, looking up at it, they discussed what it could be doing, and came to the conclusion that it was making a photographic reconnaissance.

Now the Germans would not do this without a reason, and Vivian’s guess was that the visit of the little aeroplane would be the forerunner of a heavy air attack that would put anything else we had experienced into the shade. Accordingly he sought out Tito in his cave and told him what he thought was going to happen, adding that in the circumstances he proposed to move a little further out. That afternoon he and the others transferred themselves with wireless sets and escort to a little house in the hills a mile or two away from the village.

Two days passed; and nothing happened. Then a third day. Vivian
began to wonder if he had not perhaps been rather over-cautious. That night he dined with Tito and after a good meal walked home to bed through the orchards.

Next morning he was wakened, just as it was getting light by the familiar shout of ‘
Avioni!
’ from the Partisans on guard outside. The shout was repeated, so he went out to see what was happening.

A number of small aircraft, considerably more than usual, were bombing the village, circling round and then, when they had dropped their bombs, pulling away to make room for others that were coming in from every direction. Then, just as those who were watching were reflecting what short work a couple of Spitfires would make of the intruders, a deeper note fell on the ears of the watchers, and out of the sun came six great JU 52s, flying in formation down the valley. The Germans were doing things in style.

They waited for the whistle and crash of the bombs. The planes reached the village and circled it. Then, as they watched, something fell from the leading plane, and, falling, billowed out into a great canopy with a man dangling from it. Then more and more, from one plane after another. The air seemed full of them. More planes followed, and gliders, bringing guns and reinforcements to the parachutists, who by now were shooting their way into the village. A glider seemed to be landing almost on top of the little house which the Mission had left three days before.

For a few moments Vivian and the others stood and looked. Then, taking the wireless sets and anything else they could carry, they moved off along the hillside to establish contact with the Partisan Corps Headquarters situated further up the valley.

Meanwhile, in Drvar itself, the Partisans had driven back the Germans from the village. But they were still firmly established on the slopes outside it. A glider which had come down on the flat ground immediately below Tito’s cave had crashed and the crew had been killed. But now some other Germans had succeeded in gaining a position from which they commanded the mouth of the cave and this was now under heavy fire. Tito’s position was precarious, for to use the ordinary way down would have meant almost certain death. But, with the help of a rope he hoisted himself up a cleft in the rock to the
high ground above his cave. From there he was able to join the main body of Partisans.

Now came the news that, on top of the airborne attack, strong forces of the enemy were converging on Drvar from all sides. The Partisans had already suffered heavy losses. They could not hope to hold Drvar in the face of such overwhelming odds. The order was given to withdraw into the hills.

After a ten hours’ march Vivian and the others reached the little group of huts buried deep in the forest which we had left some months before, to find Tito and his staff already there. Soon the wireless was working and a message on its way to Bari saying what had happened and asking urgently for air support.

Meanwhile, the enemy had taken Drvar. They had inflicted severe casualties on the Partisans, but at heavy cost to themselves, and they had failed to capture Tito or the Allied Missions. For this failure, they revenged themselves on the defenceless civilian population, known to be loyal to the Partisans. When the village was recaptured some months later it was found that most of the inhabitants had been massacred. One of our officers who went back with the Partisans tried to find some of the peasants who had lived near us. At last he found one who had somehow survived. He said that during the fighting the Germans had forced the civilians to carry ammunition for them at the point of the rifle, making them go on even after they had been wounded and could barely crawl: old men, women and even children. After the fighting was over and they no longer had any use for them, they had shot them. And the child Ginger? Ginger had been shot too.

Having missed Tito at Drvar, the enemy began to close in on him in the woods. Soon they reached the edge of the forest. Firing could be heard coming nearer. Tito decided to break out.

The break out took place at night. Fierce fighting was in progress. Flashes could be seen on the ridge above them. The sound of firing came ever closer. From time to time a Very star shot up into the sky.

Then Vivian saw something that amazed him. There, on a siding in the woods, was drawn up the Partisan Express, with steam up and smoke and sparks belching from the funnel. Solemnly, Tito, his
entourage and the dog Tigger entrained; the whistle blew; and, with much puffing and creaking, they started off down the five miles of track through the woods, with the enemy’s bullets whining through the trees all round them.

During the days that followed, Tito and his staff, with the Allied Missions and a force of a few hundred Partisans, were almost constantly on the move: dodging through the woods, lying up in the daytime, moving at night. Again and again they had narrow escapes from the enemy. German patrols, aircraft and light tanks seemed to be everywhere. Food and ammunition were getting desperately short, but once they managed to stop long enough to receive a supply drop from British planes, based in Italy. At the same time other British aircraft were giving much needed air support, wherever they could. During the week that followed the attack on Drvar, our planes flew over a thousand sorties in support of the Partisans, thereby doing much to relieve the pressure on them.

All this time Vivian kept in close touch with Tito. He was, he told me afterwards, impressed throughout by the way in which Tito dominated the situation, remaining calm and collected under the severest strain, personally directing the operations of the small body of troops which accompanied him as well as those of the other Partisan formations in the neighbourhood, quietly giving orders to the Partisans round him. This from Vivian, an experienced soldier and a severe judge in such matters, was high praise.

Then one day, as they were resting after a long march, Tito sent for him. Vivian found the Marshal looking tired and depressed. He had, he said, reluctantly reached the conclusion that it was impossible for him to direct the operations of his forces throughout Jugoslavia while being chased through the woods and kept constantly on the move. The complexity of this task now made it essential for him to have a relatively firm base for his Headquarters. Already he had lost touch with nearly all the formations under his command. He must ask Vivian to arrange for the evacuation of himself and his staff by air to Italy until such time as the situation permitted his return to Jugoslavia.

At first Vivian was surprised. Tito was connected in his mind with the hills and forests and it was hard to imagine him leaving them. But
he soon realized that the decision which he had taken was the right one.

A signal was dispatched to Bari and the answer came back almost immediately. The R.A.F. would do everything in their power to pick them up from a nearby stretch of flat ground, now held by the Partisans. That afternoon they set out for the landing-strip.

They reached it after dark. It was raining and there was low cloud. Not much hope, it seemed, of getting out. Then the moon came through the clouds and they cheered up a little. Anxiously they waited. At last, came the sound they were waiting for: the faint hum of an aircraft engine in the distance. Bonfires were lighted and soon the Dakota was circling the field, ready to land. It touched down; they climbed in. Tito, his dog Tigger, half a dozen of his staff, Vivian and the Russian Mission. Almost immediately they were airborne.

As Vivian got into the plane, he saw that it was manned by Russians. It was a Dakota, supplied under lease-lend, which the Russians were operating from Bari under British operational control. The Soviet officer concerned had shown considerable astuteness in securing this particular assignment for his plane. Afterwards the Russians were to make great capital out of the claim that it was they who had rescued Tito in this emergency.

An hour or two later they reached Bari.

The next thing to be decided was where Tito and his Headquarters Staff were to establish themselves. I went and called on him at the suburban villa on the outskirts of Bari in which he had been temporarily installed and found him in favour of moving over to the island of Vis until such time as the military situation made it feasible to return to the interior. This, indeed, seemed the obvious solution. Vis was Jugoslav territory; at the same time, thanks to its now substantial garrison and ever-present British naval and air support, it offered a degree of security and stability which was not to be found on the mainland of Jugoslavia.

The task of conveying the Marshal to his new abode was entrusted to the Royal Navy and H.M.S.
Blackmore
, a Hunt Class destroyer, under the command of Lieutenant Carson, R.N., was allotted to us for the purpose, with another destroyer for the rest of the party.