Campbeltown’s stinger was 24 depth charges, tucked into a steel tank concreted into the hull just behind the pedestal that had supported the forward deck gun. This enormous charge, more than four tons of explosives, was fused with explosive tied to eight-hour delay fuses. The fuses would be activated on the way up the Loire. If everything went according to plan, Campbeltown would ram the huge dry dock gates, smash her way through and come to rest deep within the dock itself. There she would be scuttled, and there, with luck, she would explode and finish the Normandie Dock for the war’s duration. The explosive charge was far enough back in Campbeltown’s hull that it would not be disturbed by the inevitable crumpling of the bow, but far enough forward to be well within the target area.

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The commandos’ job was to get ashore quickly, shoot up anything German and do as much destruction as possible to the critical dock equipment and other port facilities. The lock gates serving the submarine basin were a particular target-knocking them out would not entirely block the submarines from access to open waters, but it would seriously limit the basin’s usefulness. Altogether, the commandos targeted for demolition four bridges, six power stations, eight lock gates and 13 guns.

There would be 256 officers and men in the landing force, drawn from six different commando troops. Some of the raiders carried only a pistol and an enormous rucksack load of plastic explosive-up to 90 pounds of it. The job of other five-man parties-each equipped with Thompson submachine guns and a Bren gun-was to cover the explosives men while they set their charges. Other fighting parties-two officers and 12 men each-were to assault gun positions, create a perimeter around the dock and head off German reinforcements coming from the town. For unforeseen crises, there was a tiny reserve of 12 men, plus a doctor and a small medical detachment.

The raid would be led by Lt. Col. A.C. Newman, a Territorial officer from the Essex Regiment, leader of No. 2 Commando and veteran of the successful raids into Norway. The naval contingent was commanded by Commander R.E.D. Ryder-inevitably called ‘Red.’ Ryder was the quintessential British seadog, a veteran of polar exploration, submarines, Q-ships and two wartime sinkings. Both men were cool, thoughtful professionals.

The men who followed them included some professional soldiers and sailors, but most, like Henry V and his soldiers, were warriors for the working day. Newman’s men included a member of the London Stock Exchange, a miner, a museum curator and an economist. All were trained to a fine edge in the commandos’ murderous training regimen. No man wore the commando patch on his shoulder without surviving killing forced marches-60 miles in 24 hours was the standard, and sometimes the men were pushed seven miles in a single hour. One unit made a memorable march of 64 miles in 23 hours. Everybody shared the loads, officer, NCO and enlisted man alike. Everybody trained throughout the snow and cold of Highland winters; everybody shivered through landing operations in the icy waters of the Hebrides; everybody learned to kill men with bare hands and cold steel.

These wartime volunteers knew they were sailing into the jaws of death. In fact, with depressing honesty, Vice Adm. Louis Mountbatten, chief of Combined Operations, told Newman that he and his men were being written off: ‘I’m confident that you can get in and do the job, but we cannot hold out much hope of you getting out again. Even if you are all lost, the results of the operation will have been worth it. For that reason I want to tell you to tell all the men who have family responsibilities, or who think they should stand down for any reason, that they are free to do so, and nobody will think any worse of them.’ Newman passed on Mountbatten’s offer to his commandos, but not a man backed away.

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