A history of the relentless fighting between British and German forces in the French villages of Eterville and Maltot during World War II. ‘He who holds Hill 112 holds Normandy’ seemed an unlikely maxim when the hill is viewed from a distance, but on reaching its plateau, the vistas unfold in every direction across a huge swath of Normandy. For the Germans it was their vital defensive ground, but for the British it was an essential steppingstone en route to the River Orne and access to the open country south to Falaise. The Hitlerjugend SS Panzer Division lost Hill 112 to 4th Armoured Brigade when the Scots captured the Tourmauville Bridge intact, but the essence of Hill 112’s tactical problem soon became clear. It was impossible for armour to survive on its broad plateau, while the infantry could only hold the skeletal orchards and woods at the cost of crushing casualties. With II SS Panzer Corps preparing to attack the British, the toe hold was given up and 11th Armoured Division was left holding a bridgehead across the River Odon. Ten days later, 43rd Wessex Division was ordered to resume the advance to the Orne with Hill 112 its first objective. As the west countrymen and tanks rose to advance, they met withering fire from the stronghold that Hill 112 had become. The scene was set for one of the grimmest battles of the campaign. For six weeks from the end of June into August, when the Allied advances finally gained momentum, Hill 112 was far too important to let the opposition hold and exploit it. Consequently, it was regularly shelled and mortared, and shrouded with smoke and dust, while soldiers of both sides clung to their respective rims of the plateau. By the end, Hill 112 had developed a reputation as evil as that of any spot on the First World War’s Western Front. Praise for Hill 112 “This reads like one of those cover stories from one of the 1950s/1960s golden age British comics. Superb detail.” —Books Monthly “Tim has provided us, general buffs or serious scholars, earnest research enthusiasts or casual page-a-week armchair perusers, with an enthralling almost day by day account.” —ARGunners.com “Adds the bones to the meat of the story of Hill 112.” —Armorama

A gripping story of friendship and division in the midst of warfare, set against one of the most dramatic, dangerous, and crucial campaigns of World War II: D-Day and the Battle of Normandy. They went to war as boys. Will they make it home as men? D-Day. June 6th, 1944. The trajectory of the Second World War – and with it the course of modern history – is changed for ever. For three young former schoolmates from South Wales, their war is only just beginning. James was the school cricket captain. Now, a few short years later, he is in charge of a troop of Sherman tanks. Mark, just nineteen, must lead a platoon of infantrymen into battle. And Bill, always something of a loner, sees the heart of the fighting as a private soldier. These young men, and thousands of others, are part of one of the bloodiest and most brutal episodes of the whole Normandy campaign: the battle for Hill 112. The horror, the fear, the filth; the savage fighting; the sheer exhilaration and moments of farce and laughter: those who come through the carnage will never be the same again. Adrian Goldsworthy presents a spellbinding evocation of one of the key campaigns of World War II, based on real events and the records and reminiscences of those who were there. Perfect for fans of Robert Harris and Simon Scarrow. 'Flings us into the terror, chaos and bravery alongside these painfully young men.' The Times 'Mixes fact with fiction to great effect... Superb.' Saul David

The British Army started the development of flame throwers in 1938, but progress was slow and interest was side-lined after Dunkirk while the army reequipped. Investment in a flame-throwing tank only returned to the agenda thanks to interest by General Percy Hobart when he developed ‘funnies’ for 79th armored Division and the concept gained the support of General Sir Alan Brooke. 141 (The Buffs) Regiment RAC had been converted to Churchill Tanks at the end of 1941 and in early 1944 they were earmarked for another change of role to the Crocodile conversion of the new Mk VII Churchill tank. This flame throwing system was secret and started to arrive with the regiment in April 1944. By D-Day only one squadron was equipped and trained, with space on the landing craft only available for two troops to land in support of 50th Division. The rest of the regiment arrived by the end of June and were in action with various formations across the front. There followed a period of misuse by those they supported and learning on the job by the regiment’s squadrons, but by the middle of the campaign a clear doctrine for the use of the Crocodile had emerged and they were in great demand.

‘He who holds Hill 112 holds Normandy’ seemed an unlikely maxim when the hill is viewed from a distance, but on reaching its plateau, the vistas unfold in every direction across a huge swath of Normandy. For the Germans it was their vital defensive ground, but for the British it was an essential steppingstone en route to the River Orne and access to the open country south to Falaise. The Hitlerjugend SS Panzer Division lost Hill 112 to 4th armored Brigade when the Scots captured the Tourmauville Bridge intact, but the essence of Hill 112’s tactical problem soon became clear. It was impossible for armor to survive on its broad plateau, while the infantry could only hold the skeletal orchards and woods at the cost of crushing casualties. With II SS Panzer Corps preparing to attack the British, the toe hold was given up and 11th armored Division was left holding a bridgehead across the River Odon. Ten days later, 43rd Wessex Division was ordered to resume the advance to the Orne with Hill 112 its first objective. As the west countrymen and tanks rose to advance, they met withering fire from the stronghold that Hill 112 had become. The scene was set for one of the grimmest battles of the campaign. For six weeks from the end of June into August, when the Allied advances finally gained momentum, Hill 112 was far too important to let the opposition hold and exploit it. Consequently, it was regularly shelled and mortared, and shrouded with smoke and dust, while soldiers of both sides clung to their respective rims of the plateau. By the end, Hill 112 had developed a reputation as evil as that of any spot on the First World War’s Western Front.

2. Verdenskrig; Caen; Normandiet, Juni 1944; Frankrig; Epsom Hill; US Army; British Army; SS-enheder; Tyske Hær; Evrecy; Fontaine-Etoupefour; Colleville; Cherbourg; Cheux; Chateau de Fontaine; General Dietrich, Waffen SS; Tyske Panserstyrker; General Hausser; Hitler; von Kluge; Kaendler; Grainville; St Lo; St Manvieu; St Martin; Ultra; Woollcombe, R.; Tourmauville; Streng, E.; Rommel; RAF; Orne; Odon; O'Connor; Maltot; Meyer, Kurt; Montgomery; Operation Epsom; Goodwood; Mouen; Rauray; Belval Farm; Bon Repos;

This miltary history gives the reader an account of the battles fought by the panzer divisions of the Waffen-SS, amongst one of the finest units in Germany. The author takes us from D-day to Arnhem, and through to the Battle of the Bulge.

By September 1944, Allied forces had broken out from the Normandy beachheads, liberated Paris, and found themselves poised on the German border. As this offensive gained momentum, Patton and Montgomery, hoping to exploit the enemy's temporary weakness in the West, concocted their own alternatives to Eisenhower's broad front strategy. Each proposed a single thrust aimed directly into the German heartland, designed to bring the troops home by Christmas. This study examines this so-called broad front-single thrust controversy and concludes that the idea of early victory was wishful thinking--a product of the erroneous and dangerous assumption that the Nazi regime was already tottering on the brink of collapse. Precisely because of its lightning pace, the Allied advance resulted in severe logistical problems, limiting Patton's proposed operation to only ten combat divisions, while Montgomery's closer proximity to the coast might have allowed for as many as sixteen. But it should have been obvious that either thrust faced certain destruction against the 250 divisions still fielded by the Wehrmacht on all fronts in September. In light of this substantial German military capacity, despite serious losses and strategic setbacks, the single thrust could not have been a decisive war-ending maneuver. In fact, Andidora argues, it could not even have provided for its own security against the forces that would have coalesced against it. Rather than unnecessarily prolonging the war, as some have argued, Eisenhower's decision to stay the strategic course probably averted a military disaster.

Views D-Day and the invasion of Europe from both attacking and defending forces' points of view. First-hand interviews with Allied and German front line soldiers and generals relay the horror of combat.