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Operation Frankton, 7 December 1942 – The Night Twelve Absolute Maniacs Declared War… With Folding Canoes

Picture the scene: Nazi-occupied France, winter, pitch black, freezing tidal river that smells like death and baguettes. Normal people are hiding in cellars. The Royal Marines are unpacking collapsible canoes called “Cockles” (yes, really) from a submarine and whispering, “Hold my tea, lads, we’re going shopping.”

Twelve Royal Marines. Five canoes that look like someone sat on a dinghy and said “good enough.” Mission: paddle 70 miles upstream, past German gunboats, through minefields, in December, to stick magnetic sea-mussels full of explosives (limpet mines) on Hitler’s cargo ships in Bordeaux harbour. Because apparently bombing them from the air was “too easy.”

They launched from HMS Tuna looking like the world’s most depressed canoeing club. One canoe immediately sank because someone sneezed. Another team got captured after accidentally inventing the world’s worst French conversation: German patrol: “Halt! Who goes there?” Royal Marines: “Er… tourists?” (They were executed. The Germans did not appreciate British humour.)

Only four men in two canoes reached Bordeaux. They mined six ships like it was the world’s most aggressive valet parking service. BOOM. Six Nazi freighters suddenly remembered they had a prior engagement with the seabed.

Then they tried to leg it to Spain. On foot. In clogs they stole from French farmers. Spoiler: most didn’t make it. Two absolute legends, Major “Blondie” Hasler and Marine Bill Sparks, walked 100 miles through occupied France, living on raw onions and sheer spite, before hopping over the Pyrenees like it was a casual Sunday stroll.

Churchill later said the raid shortened the war by six months. The Germans were so rattled they stationed an entire division on the docks to guard against… more men in canoes. Imagine being that German general: “The Royal Navy has aircraft carriers, battleships, and submarines… and they sent CANOES. I quit.”

So tonight, 82 years on, raise whatever you’ve got to the dozen beautiful lunatics who proved that if you want something blown up properly, just give a Royal Marine a canoe, a bad attitude, and no adult supervision.

Operation Frankton: Because sometimes the correct answer to “How do we attack that heavily defended port?” is “Mate, just fold up a boat and vibe.”

Only two came home. Every ship they touched went straight to Davy Jones. Legend. Absolute legend.