Into Action. Dan Harvey
He ordered everyone out of the trench, staying behind to man the Bren gun and ready to put up a defence if the enemy sent in an assault under the cover of this mortar barrage.
As the others rushed for the safety of the shelter of the rear trenches, Lieutenant Carey contemplated his precarious position and thought of his fiancé and family at home in Ireland. It came as little consolation to realise he had actually volunteered for this. Survival was foremost in his mind and with little time for prayers he nonetheless made a hurried pact with Saint Jude (patron saint of hopeless cases) that should he survive, his first child would be called Jude. This first child is now a serving Lieutenant Colonel with the Irish Defence Forces, Lieutenant Colonel Paul Jude Carey. Nonetheless, it was a dreadful feeling to be so defenceless, waiting in dread for the arrival of the next salvo of mortar bombs. To his surprise the mortar fire moved away to his right and he got back to his Platoon HQ trench safely and set about completing the rotation of his platoon among the trenches. They were determined to hold out, and demonstrated this with ongoing mortar, machine gun and small arms exchanges with the enemy throughout the day.
Late afternoon, as was now customary, there was a CO conference at Company HQ. Complimenting the Platoons on their efforts over the previous three days, Commandant Quinlan announced that a relief attempt was on its way. By dusk ‘Force Keane 2’ would be at Lufira Bridge and they were expected to break through at first light the next day. The platoon Commanders were delighted but went on to report that scarcity of water remained a problem and they were trying desperately to conserve what they had. Food too had become scarce, though despite all this morale remained high. However, the heat, dust and fatigue was taking its toll. Commandant Quinlan informed them that during his frequent phone exchanges with the Burgermeister the threat of a mob from the town attacking them was made repeatedly.
The platoon commanders returned to their trenches and passed on the good news that a relief column was on its way and they could expect to be relieved. Needing to drink, the troops were using tablets to purify the water in their water bottles from which they conservatively sipped throughout the night. It tasted horrible, yet having defied such huge odds nothing could taint the taste of victory they all felt. They stood at their posts eagerly awaiting the morning.
Next morning, Saturday 16 September, the Irish troops watched through tired eyes as the sun came up. All was quiet, then the distinct crunch of mortar rounds impacting and machine gun fire was heard from the direction of Lufira Bridge. A Company were elated; relief at last. The cacophony of machine guns and mortars was music to their ears, a richly orchestrated composition whose arrangement filled their senses, emotions and heads with the thought of freedom. Play it loud, play it long, play it any way you like, just keep playing, and with the final score’s joyful crescendo, let the exhilarating climax lift the soul and lift the siege. Then, just as suddenly, the Fouga jet came along the valley. It ignored A Company in Jadotville and instead headed straight for Lufira Bridge. The relief column, ‘Force Keane 2’, was just as exposed to aerial attack as was A Company. More so, in fact, for they were in the open and not dug in. But would it matter? Would the bombing be accurate? Could ‘Force Keane 2’, this time with the advantage of an additional Gurkha unit, achieve a favourable outcome where three days earlier ‘Force Keane 1’ had not? In the event, the combined effect of the Fouga jet’s bombing and a heavily reinforced Katangan and mercenary defence caused fatal casualties and chaos. In time ‘Force Keane 2’ would return to Élisabethville.
As before there were no communications between the relief column and A Company, so it was a while before A Company realised that they were once again having to stand alone. This time it would be under much harder circumstances. Seriously fatigued, dehydrated and with supplies of ammunition running low but not yet exhausted, food scarce and water all but gone, matters were bleak and the prospect grim. After one last sustained exchange it would be down to hand-to-hand fighting or the prospect of a brave but futile bayonet charge! It was as dramatic as that. The situation was critical and no one was sure they could hold out.
Around noon, still unaware of the final outcome of the fighting at Lufira Bridge, A Company heard the blades of a helicopter coming from Élisabethville. It was a UN helicopter, bravely piloted by Norwegian Lieutenant Bjorn Hovden and co-piloted by Swedish Warrant Officer Eric Thors. They had volunteered, at extreme risk to themselves and with the possibility of being shot out of the sky by the Fouga jet, to fly a supply of water to the besieged Irish company. Despite having developed engine problems en route they persisted, and on arrival needed assistance to find a suitable landing place. Aware of the situation, Company Quartermaster Sergeant Pat Neville and Corporal Bob Allen broke cover and laid down bedsheets as markers on some even ground in No. 3 Platoon’s area for them to land safely. As they did so they drew a huge volume of fire from the Katangan and mercenary troops. Doing so, however, revealed the position of the newly placed support weapons and with most of what ammunition they had left, the Irish laid down a hail of accurate fire that lasted nearly two hours. Many of the native Katangans fled into the bush, but in the exchange the helicopter was damaged and rendered unfit to fly.
It was soon discovered, cruelly, that the UN pilots had risked their lives in vain as the much-needed water was useless. It had been poured into petrol jerry-cans which had not been sufficiently washed out and the water was undrinkable. The attack faltered and a lull occurred. At this point, Lieutenant Carey’s radio operator, Private Myler, asked: ‘Sir, would real war be anything like this?’ Carey’s mood lightened and it was further lifted when, along with the water supply, some mail was delivered and he was one of the lucky ones. Eagerly opening it he found it was a bill for two pounds from a book club back home!
The Irish decided to hit the Katangans and mercenaries again, this time for a full hour with sustained small arms and support weapon fire, and the resolve of the Katangans was broken. It had become a rout, and in order to dissuade others from taking flight into the scrub the white officers were seen shooting their own men, native Katangans, in an attempt to stem the situation. The Irish had won the fire fight but now what? The Burgermeister, similarly unaware of the outcome yet to be reached at Lufira Bridge, contacted Commandant Quinlan asking for a cease fire. From Quinlan’s perspective, at that time, he knew that a UN Relief Column had reached Lufira Bridge; a UN helicopter had successfully landed with supplies; A Company were continuing to hold out; and a breakthrough at the Lufira Bridge was imminent.
In reply, from a position of perceived strength, Commandant Quinlan laid down the following conditions; all firing was to cease; a cordon should be set up and a no man’s land area, to be patrolled by Katangan Police and A Company; the Fouga jet should be grounded; all Katangan troops to be returned to barracks; water and power supply restored; and, finally, casualties to be evacuated. All these demands were agreed by the Burgermeister and Battalion HQ notified. All A Company wanted to happen now was to greet the Relief Column on their arrival in Jadotville. For the first time in three days they could safely leave their trenches and greet each other, tell of their experiences and take photographs. Some of No. 3 Platoon actually played football with the Katangan police on the roadway beside the Purfina garage.
Late that night Commandant Quinlan called a hurried conference for all officers and Company Sergeant Prendergast. He congratulated them all on their actions over the past few days then to their shock and disbelief he announced that ‘Force Keane 2’ had returned to Élisabethville. Battalion HQ had sent a message to hold on since UN jets would arrive in Élisabethville soon (in fact it was to take two months for them to arrive). The platoon commanders were not to give this news to their platoons that night as they were fully sure they had won the battle. The platoon commanders spent a sleepless night because they realised their position was now precarious. The initiative had swung to the Katangans, still with a large force disproportionately outnumbering A Company. Their position was indeed hazardous, to say the least.
The Irish had held their ground, fought the Katangans and the mercenaries to a standstill and acceded to a cease fire, which so far was holding. However, the Irish situation was perilous. They were starved, parched and exhausted, without ammunition or reinforcements, unable to resupply and without air cover. Despite the previously agreed arrangements, the Fouga jet reappeared and flew over the Irish positions but did not attack them.
At around 1400 hours on Sunday 17 September, Commandant Quinlan decided to go into Jadotville, with the Swedish co-pilot,