Major George Jellicoe, head of Britain’s Special Boat Squadron, made a last-minute check on his parachute harness to see if all was ready. It was 10:40 p.m. on September 9, 1943, and Jellicoe was aboard a Halifax heavy bomber that was being buffeted by a strong wind. This was a rather unusual assignment for the 24-year old English aristocrat. The squadron was an elite formation, known for its no-holds-barred raids on territory occupied by the Germans. His assignment on this day had more of a diplomatic nature to it.
The British officer hoped the mission would not be aborted. The previous night a clammy mist shrouded the area, reducing visibility to such an extent the pilot was forced to cancel the drop. Jellicoe and his two companions were now about to parachute into Rhodes, the fabled Aegean island not far from the coast of Turkey. The major’s main mission was to persuade the commander of the Italian garrison to change sides and hand the island and its vitally important airstrips over to the Allies. It was going to be a tough sell, because German forces were already on Rhodes, even though they had not taken full control of the strategic island.
Satisfied his parachute was in order, Jellicoe calmly waited for the green light to jump, a signal that was only seconds away. Suddenly, the first person about to jump, an operative named Major Julian Dobrski, turned to Jellicoe with a startling piece of information. “Look, I am afraid I told a lie about having been parachute trained.” Dobrski sheepishly admitted. “I’ve never dropped. If I hesitate, please give me a push.” Jellicoe readily agreed, but when the signal was given, Dobrski exited without showing the least bit of fear. Soon it was Jellicoe’s turn, and he jumped into the inky, wind-swept void. It was the start of a campaign that was to have high stakes for both the Allies and their German opponents.
