KOREA
The Commonwealth Division sat along a front stretching over 13,000 yards of steep hills and ridges. The enemy similarly dug in across wide valleys ranging from 500 to 2,000 yards, with the exception of the The Hook. On top of each major hill was infantry, usually a platoon, with small detachments of tanks dug into pits for direct support. On the morning of December 9th, 1952 the 1st Royal Tank Regiment completed their takeover of these posts from the 5th Inniskilling Dragoon Guards. Headquarters Squadron sat south of the Imjin River where, at least for the month of December, it remained quiet along the cold battlefront.
The Reconnaisance Troop leader, Lieutenant Peter S. Berry, had been with the Royal Tanks for nearly a year by that time. He was commissioned into the regiment to join the 8th Royal Tanks just as they converted back to an operational regiment from their training role and moved to Paderborn. In October 1952, he was posted to the 1st to bring the regiment up to strength for service in Korea. His role with the Recce Troop meant he would not be dug into one of the gun pits with an infantry company, but moving about to gather intelligence on enemy positions and relay it back to the regiment. Since the Korean landscape across the Commonwealth front was largely inhospitable to vehicles that could not navigate sheer slopes, frozen rice paddies, and artillery-prone valley floors, reconnaissance came from above.
Unlike traditional air support, which engaged targets from high altitudes, the Mosquitos of the 6147th Tactical Control Group flew low over the battlefield in their unarmed T-6 Texans, marking enemy positions and guiding in fighter-bombers for precision strikes. Their work required extraordinary skill, as they often flew at treetop level, dodging enemy fire while identifying troop concentrations, fortifications, and supply lines. Having adopted the blue flight uniform with thick fur collar in lieu of tanker’s coveralls, Berry joined the group at K-47 airbase at Chunchon.
The unarmored Texan, known to the British as the Harvard, was a departure from the lumbering Centurions of the Royal Tanks which hugged the ground and felt rather safe with its thick hull. He joined American pilots on frequent missions to fly over the battlefield, frozen, dusted with snow and often hazy in the winter months, to identify concentrations of troops and fortifications, and drop phosphorus smoke to mark targets. Berry quickly adapted to the unpredictable nature of aerial reconnaissance. He learned to read the landscape in an instant, spotting hidden gun emplacements, bunkers, and supply lines that ground forces might have missed. In doing so, they frequently drew hostile fire, relying on speed and maneuverability to escape. Every sortie carried the risk of not returning, as the enemy had learned to recognize their aircraft and frequently laid traps for them.
During a limited objective “killer” operation on January 25th, Berry watched both enemy and friendly lines from above and picked out targets of opportunity. His pilot marked these with smoke rockets and sent five flights of fighter-bombers against the enemy positions. He kept the Royal Tanks and accompanying infantry units aware of enemy positions and movements during the day. For the single operation, the American’s awarded him with a Distinguished Flying Cross to accompany the Air Medal for accrued flight time during the months he was with the Group.
He rejoined the Tanks in March, rotating with Lieutenant Fanshawe who took his place in the air. Spring conditions transformed the landscape, with azalea blossoms replacing the brown drab of winter, but the dry conditions also led to increased dust, making operations and visibility more difficult. From March to July, the Tanks were heavily engaged in counter-fire missions, reconnaissance patrols, and direct tank support for infantry operations, particularly at The Hook and Point 159. The work was increasingly routine for Berry, but being subjected to artillery on the ground had its own stress and thrills.
SUEZ
A train clattered through a remote corner of Devon carrying one officer and thirty-two men among the passengers. The carriage door opened and a startled sergeant of the 2nd Royal Tanks poked his head in. “What are the Seventh doing here?” No one had an answer, as they did not know their destination either. Even Captain Berry was bewildered about the sudden orders that pulled him away from the 7th Royal Tank Regiment. The change had come suddenly and without explanation in August 1956 and in a frenzy, men made arrangements for families and belongings, suffered through several inoculations, and set off for destination unknown with tickets even sealed in envelopes.
They arrived at the School of Amphibious Warfare to form No. 1 Landing Vehicle Tank Troop, R.A.C. and learn they were to embark for Malta to train with 3d Commando Brigade, Royal Marines. Their vehicles were not tanks but American LVT Mk. III personnel carriers, similar to the Buffalo used for the Rhine Crossing. As an instructor was Captain Robert John Butler, M.C., of the Royal Army Service Corps at that time, but who had served with the 11th Royal Tank Regiment in these vehicles at the Rhine and at Walcheren. There were dramatic adjustments to piloting the LVTs when sea-borne as they did not simply stop when brakes applied, but would drift with the wind or tide. For ten days they trained on the beaches of Westward Ho before emplaning for Malta.
Berry went with Captain Butler to the Commando Brigade HQ where the commando officers went through a slew of thoughtful questions about the use and implementation of the LVTs that had just arrived. Peter found them to be ‘full of interest and enthusiasm.’ He was also impressed when, after the staff officers noted their needs and requests, everything was fulfilled the next morning. It was a shockingly fast requisition.
They followed with organizing the Troop into four sections with sergeants in command of four vehicles commanded by corporals. They began four months of training and exercises with the commandos and with the Navy providing LSTs and LCTs to practice launching and recovering vehicles. This continued through October with beach landings on Malta and live fire exercises off Filfla. After several weeks, the men of the Troop had adopted so much of the naval routine during their time afloat. They shared turns on watches in engine rooms and wheel houses and trained in semaphore and morse. After their lengthy training, with time for a few excursions to Sicily and Gozo, the Troop loaded for their operation.
The weather was rough on October 29th, enough so that one ramp of an LCT was swept out to sea forcing the vehicles to go across country to a calmer bay for loading. They joined the convoy for Port Said the next day and for their eight days at sea, studied maps, aerial photos, and tended to their vehicles. This included adding spare track lengths and ‘sleepers’ over the hulls to make areas bulletproof, as the LVTs were not heavily armored. On two occasions during their eight-day voyage the Klaxons blared and the crew stood to, only to find after anxiously waiting that unidentified aircraft were friendly and on the second occasion that unidentified ships were of the United States 6th Fleet.
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An hour before nautical twilight on November 6th, while the sky was still dark, the Troop clanked down their ramps began to churn their way over the two-and-a-half miles of calm sea toward Port Said. Ahead of them were two LCAs and behind them was the silhouette of H.M.S. Daring blasting the coast with her guns. “Any apprehension we may have felt a few moments earlier was immediately dispelled by the familiar scene around us,” Berry noted later. “Our previous training had been so realistic it was difficult to realize that this was the assault.” Ahead of them the spire of the Mosque began to take shape against the horizon and Berry waved away the lead LCAs as his LVTs formed into a line and set for shore at top speed.
The operation was going so smoothly and he began to wonder when the enemy would unleash their fire. Their air support of four Sea Hawks maintained the peace with strafing runs across the beach and the Commando Bren gunners followed with a hail of fire from the LVTs in the last two hundred yards to shore. Only twenty minutes after leaving their LCTs, the Troop’s LVTs gripped the beach and lurched forward just as Egyptian machine guns finally began firing. The gunners silenced them as the LVT tracks took purchase on the shore and lurched forward, accelerating across the beach through Egyptian positions quickly abandoned once they realized the commandos were not going to dismount and swarm in through the surf.
Considering that the beach could be mined, they crossed the sands ‘with our hearts in our mouths.’ They made it through and began to unload the commandos when they reached the flats on the edge of the sea front. Within twenty minutes, as the commandos on foot went through streets and buildings, support came in behind the Troop, including a comforting clamor of Centurions from C Squadron, 6th Royal Tanks.
In the early stages of the operation, the LVTs were the only vehicles available on shore and served to move 40 and 42 Commando through the town and across open ground, haul ammunition, move captured arms, and transport the British Consul. As soon as they moved away from the sea front for Golf Course Camp, the Egyptians fired from houses, alcoves and alley ways. Commandos fired back, but being confined to a vehicle in street fighting did not give them any advantage, especially amidst five-story buildings teeming with gunmen firing sporadically. The intensity increased as they moved intersection by intersection filled with soldiers, armed civilians, and their wives and children who spectated.
The finally made it to Golf Course Camp, but not without casualties. In addition to several commandos hit, Sergeant Kizlo was killed and Trooper Cade, a driver, wounded in the arm and head. His commander, Sergeant Roberts, took over the LVT without delay – had he not acted quickly the column of tanks and LVTs would have been stalled and quickly picked off. Berry’s troop spent the rest of the day collecting casualties and carrying commandos around Golf Course Camp and the power station. By the end of the day, their vehicles were riddled with bullet holes and crews were proud to share several tales of ingenious repairs.
After the first days of invasion, the Troop went to the area of Lake Manzala with commandos to ward off the enemy from the town. They spent two weeks in the boggy area, generally unsuitable for their tracked LVTs, and when they were replaced by assault boats, they left what Berry called an ‘evil smelling Lake,’ bringing an end to their combat operations in Suez. They stayed on acting as a ferrying service to take infantry and 6th Royal Tank men to Port Fuad for baths and short rest and recuperation. The Troop itself was fortunate to spend each night on board ships of the Amphibious Warfare Squadron where they could bathe and see a movie or socialize. Berry reported that “The hospitality of the Navy is legendary and they certainly lived up to their reputation in Port Said.” It was on these high notes that the Troop concluded their Suez operation when, on November 30th, their order came to load vehicles and return to the United Kingdom where they spent the next several weeks balancing their accounts.