Branch 3473 Commemorated those killed in action, from 4 Para BA in 1944 in Le Muy, in Provence. These were young men dropped into the south of France to secure the high ground at the start of Operation Dragoon at the start of the liberation of France in the South.
The service was conducted by Rev. Jeremy Auld of Holy Trinity Church, Nice. His son read the Role of Honour – the same age as many of this who payed the ultimate sacrifice. The Regimental Collect was included in the service. Wreaths were laid on behalf of the RBL and the Commonwealth. Crosses were placed under the Plaque of Commemoration on the gate post which was unveiled last year.
The Chaplain laid out the story –
“Eighty-two years ago today, on the morning of 15 August 1944, this peaceful corner of Provence became a battlefield. It is difficult, standing here today, to imagine that transformation. The sun is shining. The countryside around us is quiet. There is nothing here to suggest the noise and confusion of battle. And yet, if we were to go into the house standing behind me and in front of you, we would be able to see the marks left by that morning. These are not merely the scars of some distant battle remembered in a history book. These are the marks left by bullets fired here on 15 August 1944.
For a few moments, we might allow ourselves to imagine this beautiful serene spot as it was then: the noise of gunfire; men moving across the ground on which we are standing; orders being shouted; the confusion and fear of battle; and behind these walls, men defending this position.
For this was the day on which the Allied invasion of southern France began. Operation Dragoon had been planned as the great companion to the Normandy landings. While Allied forces came ashore along the Mediterranean coast, thousands of Allied paratroopers were dropped inland during the hours before dawn. Their task was crucial. They were to seize bridges, roads and strategic positions, this beautiful little bridge being one of them, disrupt German communications and prevent German troops from moving towards the coast to reinforce the defences against the invasion. Among those airborne troops were the men of the British 4th Parachute Battalion, part of the 2nd Independent Parachute Brigade.
Their objective was the area around Le Muy, and in particular the positions here at Les Serres, which controlled an important route and this crossing of the River Nartuby. But the parachute drop had not gone according to plan. There had been fog, the landscape looked different from the winter images they had been given. Men were scattered over a wide area. Some landed many miles from where they were supposed to be. There was confusion and uncertainty, and nobody could be sure exactly where the enemy was. Nevertheless, the men gathered themselves together and began to move towards their objectives.
By about ten o’clock that morning, C Company of the 4th Parachute Battalion had crossed vineyards and reached the walls of Les Serres. And what happened next happened here. As the leading platoon approached, the Germans occupying the buildings opened fire. Lieutenant Arthur Stewart was killed, together with a medical orderly, and two other men were wounded. The British regrouped. Mortar support was brought forward. Smoke was laid down. And the men attacked. They crossed open ground, negotiated wire obstacles and climbed walls, some of them, like this one, around 12 feet high and pierced with loopholes. Eventually the buildings were taken.
The battalion suffered seven men killed and seven wounded in the action, two of whom died later as a direct result of what happened here. These are the nine whose names we shall read in a moment. According to the records, sixteen German soldiers were also killed and twenty-nine taken prisoner.
Inside the buildings were things which, in another circumstance, would have seemed almost absurdly ordinary: a bakery and a field post office. Yet the post office contained intelligence which was gathered up and passed to the Brigade, contributing to the wider operation.
And this position mattered. The men who fought here were helping to secure the inland routes and prevent German forces from reaching the invasion beaches, and retreating. The battle for southern France was being fought not only on the beaches, but here, in fields and villages, at bridges and crossroads, and around places such as this.
And then there are the men. In a few moments we shall hear their names.
But before we do, it is worth remembering what a name cannot tell us. Behind every name was a human being. A young man who had grown up somewhere in Britain. Someone’s son. Perhaps someone’s brother. Someone’s friend. Someone who had laughed, quarrelled, made plans, fallen in love, dreamed about what life might be like when the war was over. Some were barely into adulthood. They had lives which, for the most part, had hardly begun.
And then, on one August morning, far from home, those lives ended here.
We do not remember them because war is glorious. It is not.
We remember them because they were human beings caught up in a terrible conflict; because they showed courage in the face of danger; because they came here, far from home, and because their lives ended here. We remember them because freedom is never simply an abstraction. It has a human cost. And standing here today, eighty-two years later, we can see the extraordinary contrast between then and now.
The wall remains. The bullet holes remain. The river still flows. The sun still shines over Provence. But the men who were here that morning are gone. The guns have fallen silent. And that silence is itself part of what we remember.
We give thanks for their lives. We honour their courage. We remember their sacrifice. And we pray that the freedom for which they fought will never be taken for granted. Above all, we pray that we may honour the dead not simply by remembering their names, but by the lives we choose to live.”