Jeremy Clarkson, the unprepossessing host, at times almost turns this story of an impossible and probably lethal war-time task into something comic. A ship, the aging destroyer HMS Campbelltown, is modified to resemble a German destroyer -- slightly. The job of the sailors is to, fill the ship with explosives, slip the ship up the estuary and ram it into the gates protecting the large drydock. The goal is to prevent the use of the port by the German battleship Tirpitz.
And so we see Clarkson standing before a map of the estuary, using a pointer to indicate the features, and counting out the obstacles the Campbelltown must get past. One after another, the gun emplacements, the floodlights, the submarine nets -- all distributed neatly up and down the estuary through which the destroyer must travel.
And only after Clarkson gets to the "eighteen guns -- here, here, here, here, here, and here, and here," does it become clear that it's virtually impossible and that all the ships and men will be lost. (Another destroyer, traveling the same path, will be standing by to pick up survivors, assuming that it, itself, hasn't been sunk.) And Clarkson keeps a straight face throughout this hair-raising presentation.
A feature film was made of this venture, with the title "Glory at Sea" and the alternate title, "Gift Horse," to add still more irony. A book about the raid by David Mason is much better than the feature film that seems to have been strapped by a low budget. I reviewed the film on IMDb.com, if anyone is interested.
It's a story of incredible bravery and no film could do it justice. The minute details of the problems the planners faced are gone into. Eg., where on the ship do you place the four tons of explosive that are supposed to destroy the locks. The detonation device was so crude that its designer could only predict the explosion within limits defined by hours -- assuming that a sudden jolt didn't set it off prematurely and kill everyone on board.
The destroyer smashed into the dock, as planned, but the Germans were alert and all hell was breaking loose. Commandos jumped onto the dock and destroyed some additional facilities, but almost all of the frail wooden boats that were to deliver them from the scene had been shot up and were burning in the river. The men, now isolated, were told to make for Spain, 320 daunting miles away, but few escaped from St. Nazaire, reduced to running through the streets and shouting at civilians, "Dedans vite!" Of all the men on the mission, 214 wound up as POWs and 168 were killed. Forty VCs were awarded, deservedly.
HMS Campbelltown blew up the next day and destroyed the docks, which weren't made operational again until 1947. The explosion took numerous German and French curiosity seekers and military celebrants with it. The mission was a success, an important one but a costly one.
