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The above
title is the BBC
message to the Maquis early in May 1944 advising them of an imminent
raid on
the SAS Ball Bearing Factory at Annecy, and the following article is an
extract
from a French book on the subject, kindly translated for us by Peter
Goodman.
After the destruction of
Schweinfurt, the Germans focused their attention on increasing the
production
of ball bearings at Annecy and put in a certain Mr Messerschmidt and a
Mr
Kleinhenz to oversee production from 21 March 1944.
Rumours soon began in the town that
the Allies would attack the works again to destroy it once and for all
(two
previous attacks had already been mounted, on 11 December 1942 and 11
November
1943, without inflicting any serious damage). However, on the evening
of 9 May 1944,
when the BBC announced that it was time “to water your lettuces,
radishes and
onions”, those who understood the message knew that Annecy was about to
share
Schweinfurt’s fate.
That night, the raid began with an
aircraft dropping parachute flare over the town. By order of the
Germans, there
were no sirens until the first wave of RAF bombers arrived and dived
down to
drop their bombs at low level. For 22 minutes wave after wave of
aircraft
dropped over 300 bombs (120 tons) inside the factory limits.
Marcel Marcadel and his wife, left
miraculously alive right in the middle of the works, had the doubtful
privilege
of experiencing the raid first-hand from the factory’s living
accommodation.
Here is his eyewitness account of the apocalyptic night of 9-10 May
1944:
“I’d gone to bed at about 9.30 and had
spotted one of my
neighbours just as I was closing the shutters. I’m sure she thought I’d
heard
the BBC message, but I hadn’t and we couldn’t talk because German
patrols were
coming and going all the time. My wife and I were in bed when the
attack began.
Everything started to shake and the noise was appalling – bombs
whistling down
and exploding constantly. Roof tiles were raining down, an incredible
noise and
we could hear water cascading everywhere. There was, of course, no
power, but
everything was lit up like day by the fires: the main production
building and
the petrol storage tanks were on fire about thirty yards from our flat.
Outside, all sorts of things were hurtling through the air, making it
impossible
to leave the building. My wife and I, and our dog Champi, took refuge
in the
games room on the ground floor behind some cases of Champagne and
Jurancon wine
which we’d been keeping for our grandson’s baptism. Everything was
ablaze
outside and things were looking bleak. At one point I pressed my cheek
against
the outside wall and found that it was moving by about two inches each
time a
bomb exploded.”
The following day a scene of
absolute desolation greeted the crowds of curious onlookers: heavy
equipment
and buildings turned into heaps of rubble and twisted metal. Only the
offices
and the canteen were relatively intact. Outside the factory damage was
limited,
however thirteen people lost their lives, including two policemen in
the main
street and there had been a large number of injuries. One of those
injured was
the night watchman, Mr Giovanetti, who was buried in a shelter. In 1952
he set
down his experiences for the Company magazine:
“I was on duty as usual and had completed all
my rounds
when, at 1.15am we got a phone call from the Civil Defence people
telling us to
check the blackout, then, five minutes later another call warning of an
air
raid. Almost at the same time the first planes came over and dropped
markers.
No doubt about it – we were in for it this time! The bombs started to
fall and
I jumped into a trench to get into shelter but, almost at once, I found
myself
flat on my stomach as the roof had fallen in. My mouth was full of
earth and I
couldn’t move my arms. Fortunately some of the planking had made enough
of a
space for me to breathe, then I must have passed out. Later on I heard
the
voices of a search party nearby. I shouted but nobody came and I began
to
wonder if I wasn’t in fact already dead. Finally I was found by my
neighbour’s
son who was looking for his cat. He had heard my muffled calls and got
the
rescuers. Just in the nick of time!”
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The main text
of the
article from which this extract is taken describes the delaying tactics
used by
the workforce to slow production right down. This, apparently, was very
successful. The Wehrmacht placed an order for 400,000 ball races for
use in
Panzers and, of the eleven finished by
May 1944 none ever left the
factory. There were also two attacks by the Maquis when, using plastic
explosives, they blew up electricity transformers in November 1943 and
heavy
machinery a month later.
In 1943 the Germans
had already started a project to concrete the walls and trackbed of a
railway
tunnel on the Annecy-Albertville railway line so that, in the event of
a heavy
raid, they could relocate production there. They tried to put this plan
into
operation but sabotage ensured that it never got off the ground and, in
August
1944, Annecy was liberated.
The 627 Squadron
participation in this operation was as under:
“K” – DZ477
S/L Nelles and F/O
Richards
Target: Ball bearing
factory at Annecy. Identified target visually and dived from 1,500
ft/100ft to
release red spot fires and from 50yds/12 o’clock from marking point.
Main force
bombing was concentrated and accurate. B/L (bomb load) 2 red spot
fires, 2 x
500lb MC (medium case) bombs.
“A” – DZ426
F/L Devigne and F/L
Lewis
Target as above.
Identified aiming point and marked but markers did not ignite. Dive
bombed from
4,500ft/100ft at 0158 hrs but no results seen. Later bombing was very
concentrated. B/L as above.
“S” – DZ525
F/L Hanlon and F/S
Fenwick
Target as above.
Mission abandoned owing to icing and 10/10 cloud. ASI and VHF
unserviceable so
returned to base. B/L as above.
“N” – DZ462
F/L Peck and F/L Davies
Target as above.
Target not identified so jettisoned bombs safe to NW of target area at
0207
hrs. 2 red spot fires not required. B/L as above.
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