Authors: John Schettler
“Yet
why haven’t they come against us in all these months?” said Bayerlein. “Rommel
was in a bad way after that last battle.”
“I
suppose we hurt them enough to give them pause. There’s a new General at
Tobruk—Montgomery. He’s the careful sort, very stubborn, very methodical. I
don’t think they’ll move unless that man has his entourage well styled.”
“But
surely they’ll try and flank our Gazala Line,” said Bayerlein.
“Most
likely,” said Crüwell, “and that’s where we must beat them to the punch. The
southern desert is an endless open flank, and we must make good use of it.”
“Indeed,”
came a voice, as General Rommel entered the tent with a wry smile. Both
officers gave him a crisp salute, Crüwell’s just a little stiffer, as he was a
died in the wool supporter of Hitler and the Nazi movement. “Welcome to North
Africa, gentlemen. To answer your question, General, that flank will most
likely be commanded by O’Conner.”
“The
man who chased the Italians all the way to Benghazi?”
“The
very same,” said Rommel. “He will do exactly as you suggest, General Crüwell,
what else? Only this time they will have more armor, and we will have fewer
troops in the field than last time. For that reason, I contemplate no attack on
Tobruk. We will fight a defensive action here, and count ourselves lucky if we can
hold the Gazala Line.”
“What
about 10th Panzer Division?” said Crüwell. “What about the Big Cats?”
“I have
just come from Benghazi,” said Rommel. “They gave that division to Generalleutnant
Wolfgang Fischer—a good man.”
“Then
you have seen our new tanks?” Bayerlein rocked on his heels with a smile.
“Most
impressive,” said Rommel. “Yet how they will fare against the British remains
to be seen.”
“I have
seen them fight in Russia,” said Bayerlein. “They smashed three Russian Tank
Brigades on the road to Serpukhov!”
“Well,
let us hope they can perform as well on the road to Cairo,” said Rommel. “Yet I
must tell you what I have learned about this new British tank, and how we must
fight it. And I will also tell you that I have no intention of trying to face
it with our new Lions, and you will soon know why.”
“It
cannot be stopped,” said Rommel. “At least not by any tank
we possess, and I do not even think our new Lions will do the job. This tank is
fearsome. It can engage at ranges exceeding our 88s, and that while moving at
speeds we have estimated in excess of 50 KPH! Our best 88 gunners can barely
track them as they pass, and those that do manage to get a lucky hit say it has
absolutely no effect.”
“Astounding,”
said Crüwell. “How could the British be so far ahead of us?”
“That
is the mystery,” said Rommel. “Thus far, the only place we have encountered
this new tank is here and in Syria. The British moved that brigade east to stop
Steiner before Hitler abandoned his Plan Orient and pulled that division off to
fight in Russia.”
“A
single brigade?”
“Yes,
it can be no more than that, a mixed force of light tanks, mechanized infantry
and a battalion of this new heavy armor. But mark my words, it would smash the
tanks you set loose on that road to Serpukhov, Bayerlein, of this I am
certain.”
“Then
how do we attack?”
“We do
not attack,” said Rommel, “at least not in the traditional way we have been
accustomed to routing our enemies. Blitzkrieg counts for nothing here now, and
you must know this. The British hold this special force in reserve behind their
main line. Its speed is sufficient to rapidly react to any breakthrough, so any
fast moving penetration by armor will certainly encounter this threat, and be
annihilated. No. Here we fight as we did in the last war. In spite of the loss
of Grossdeutschland, and Goering’s troops, I still have two good infantry
divisions. The 90th Light has been built up to three full regiments, and Hitler
has sent me the mountain troops he was holding in reserve for Crete, three more
regiments. Those units, along with Meindel’s Sturm Parachute Regiment, are holding
the Gazala Line, and they are dug in like the last war—wire, mines, reinforced
positions with any good stone we could quarry these last months.”
“Trench
warfare?” Bayerlein shook his head.
“Backed
by every AT gun, and all the artillery we have,” said Rommel. “Hopefully we
will have
Stuka
support this time as well.”
“And
what about the three panzer divisions?” Crüwell’s eyes were wide. “You cannot
conduct any offensive with two infantry divisions!”
“They’ll
be held in reserve,” said Rommel. “We wait for the enemy to strike. Then we counterpunch
their breakthroughs as best we can. If this new British Heavy Brigade appears,
I will fight it with infantry alone, but not my panzers. They must be used to
smash the lighter British tanks, which the enemy still has in abundance. Should
the moment present itself, I will contemplate a move east, but only if the
British are thoroughly beaten, on the run, and not until I know where those
damn heavy tanks are. At the moment, the enemy is presenting every sign of an
impending offensive, but we have not identified this Heavy Brigade among their
forward deployments. This is good. It will give us a chance to lean on the
ropes.”
“The
Führer is expecting results this time, Herr Rommel,” said Crüwell. “He won’t
stand for another defeat here.”
“What
are you talking about? What defeat? We were that close to taking Tobruk!” Rommel
held up two fingers to emphasize his point. “I had infantry firing at enemy
positions in the harbor! And I am still sitting on the same ground I took with
my first offensive, where I’ve been watching the Führer shuffle my divisions
about like chess pieces!”
“Yes,”
said Crüwell, cautiously, but firmly. “You have certainly been sitting here.
I’ve been sent to see that we get moving again.”
“You’ve
been sent?” Rommel gave him an incredulous look. “Is that what you think you
are here for, Herr General? You fancy yourself a new crusader in the desert,
ready to lift up our fallen banners and run with them all the way to Cairo?
Well you have not seen this new British Brigade in action, nor has Hitler. I
tried to press upon him the importance of upgrading our armor, and so now it is
finally arriving with 10th Panzer Division. All the better, but gentlemen, we
must be very cautious now, and very stubborn. No doubt you were both excellent officers
in Russia, but here in the desert, there is much you have to learn.”
He gave
them a quick map briefing, and related his intentions. “The Italian Trento
Division is on the coast holding in front of Gazala. They have a regular
infantry division behind them, and the Ariete Armored Division is here, south
of these escarpments. That is their reserve. Next comes our three mountain
regiments. They’ll hold the line between the escarpment and Bir Hacheim. South
of that I’ve placed our 90th Light Division in this difficult ground leading
down to Wadi Thiran. And Meindel’s Sturm Regiment is covering these secondary
tracks south of that wadi. He is the end of the line. The two Panzer Divisions
are here.” He circled the assembly areas well behind that hard crust of his infantry.
“They
will most likely hit us with infantry, and then push hard with their armor
through this sector.” He fingered Bir Hacheim. “21st Panzer will react in that
sector, and the 15th Panzer will stand in reserve should they attempt any
envelopment south or through Wadi Thiran. Hopefully 10th Panzer will hasten up
from Benghazi, and that will be my ace in the hole.”
“Why
not use both Panzer Divisions together?” said Crüwell. “I would mass them here,
then push right up this road through Sidi Muftah to this crossroads here.”
“The
British call that Knightsbridge,” said Rommel. “There’s bad ground north of
Sidi Muftah, and escarpments beyond that crossroad.”
“Yes,
but it is the most direct axis to Tobruk,” said Crüwell.
“And
for that reason,” Rommel said quickly, “that will be where they position the
bulk of their reserves. No. Any attack through Knightsbridge must go here.” He
pointed to a track leading southeast, “to Bir el Gobi. But all that is
academic. We are not going to Tobruk, General Crüwell. My intention is to break
the enemy offensive and hold the Gazala line.”
“What?
No further offensive east?” Crüwell folded his arms. “At the very least we
could envelop Tobruk and restore the siege.”
“If we
beat the British badly enough,” said Rommel, “destroy their armor divisions,
then they will have no recourse but to withdraw.” He tapped the map. In that
instance they will have to decide whether or not to give us Tobruk. But don’t
get any ideas about a mad dash to the wire on the Egyptian border,” he cautioned,
which was the very thing he had done himself in Fedorov’s history of that
battle. That Rommel had vanished in the night, commandeering any vehicle he
could keep running as he raced from one scattered unit after another and sent
them all on a wild jaunt toward the wire. At one point he had been trapped east
of the wire himself, spending the long night in a Mammut command vehicle within
a few kilometers of 8th Army headquarters and not even knowing it. British messengers
had been racing past all night on motorcycles, but not a one gave a second
thought to the solitary vehicle sitting sullenly in the desert that night.
This
Rommel had already been chastened for his reckless abandon twice. He knew his
enemy now, their capabilities, and the grave danger of unprepared advances into
thin air that might meet with utter disaster should the British find them with
those awful new heavy tanks and fast mechanized infantry. This time he would
fight to destroy the British Army in the field, and not to simply take kilometers
of useless desert ground.
“If we
do move east again,” he finished, “then it will be a cautious, well managed
pursuit of a beaten enemy, but until we achieve that, we stay right here on
this line in the sand.”
Crüwell
frowned, giving Bayerlein a sideward’s glance, but said nothing more.
*
The
night of October 14th, radio silence was imposed all along
the British line, and ominous hush that seemed to portend the imminent onset of
the attack. The British hit the Gazala Line hard on the morning of the 15th, a
little over a month before the historical start date of Operation Crusader.
Montgomery was to begin the attack along the main coastal road, with the
intention of taking Gazala itself, and then pushing on to Derna. To this end he
decided to commit his 32nd Tank Brigade to support the infantry of the 2nd New
Zealand Division, and they were going up against the Italian Trento Motorized
Division, entrenched astride the main road in good positions.
The
32nd had over 50 Matilda II tanks, most with 4th RTR, and they led the attack, grinding
through heavily sandbagged positions once the New Zealand sappers cleared a
path through the mine infested wire. The success of this attack was largely due
to those tanks, and the heavy artillery preparation Monty heaved over to cover
his sapper advance. It was scissors, paper, rock, and this time the Italians
were paper, and Monty’s tanks a hard metal scissors cutting through.
The
Italians struggled to regroup, sending in the 102nd Engineer battalion to try
and hold the airfield just south of the town, but their best reprisal was the
artillery of the 46th Regiment, blasting away at the advancing enemy. They were
soon answered from a most unexpected direction, when the three destroyers that
had been stationed at Tobruk sortied up the coast and began firing at targets
of opportunity, which included the closely massed Italian artillery, troops reorganizing
in Gazala, and the division headquarters even took several direct hits, causing
a good deal of disorder.
Monty’s
advance was methodical. The Armor would punch through and blast away at the
hardened enemy bunkers to eliminate machine gun and mortar positions. Then the
New Zealand infantry would charge in support of the tanks, bayonets fitted on
their rifles, and carry the position. All the while, Montgomery was closely
directing the supporting artillery fire, walking it ahead of the advance, which
made for an attack that seemed like a slow fire that was burning through the
enemy lines.
Further
south, beyond a staircase of ragged escarpments, the 99th Mountain Regiment had
also been pushed off their prepared positions by the surging New Zealanders,
but they immediately organized a counterattack near a secondary road. Beyond
that point, west of Sidi Muftah, it was the veteran troops of the 9th
Australian Division locked in close combat fighting with the 100th Mountain
Regiment. The Germans held the line, except at Bir Hachiem, where the tanks of
the British 5th RTR of 2nd Armored Division rolled out of the sallow dawn and
made several inroads into the small settlement.
A
stolid Sergeant rallied his men, bawling out an order to regroup for a
counterattack. Up came the new
Panzerfaust
teams, fresh off the trucks,
rushing through the confusion and smoke of the battlefield. They were going to
take a terrible toll on the British tanks of the 5th RTR. Six Crusaders and two
older cruiser tanks were the first to feel their bite. With relatively thin
40mm armor on those tanks, the Panzerfaust was lethal at close quarters when
the armor attempted to break through.
The
attack thundered on to the south, where the British 1st Army Tank Brigade was
coming up the road towards a knob labeled Hill 541 on their maps. It would be
defended by III Battalion of the 155th Schutzen Regiment of the 90th Light, but
before the tanks got there, the dogged infantry of the 3rd Indian Motor Brigade
had dismounted and charged in to attack. All three battalions of this unit hit
the Germans, eventually overwhelming the position, which was buckling just as
the tanks of the 1st Brigade arrived to seal the deal.
O’Connor
was listening to radio reports very closely on all the action, waiting for news
of any breakthrough on the first day. The mystery was where the German panzer
divisions were, as no unit of the 21st or 15th had been identified on the
front. When the Indians took Hill 541, he thought he saw his first real
opportunity, and decided to go all in or nothing. He got to the nearest field
radio and called up General Brink of the 1st South African Division.
“Come on,
Georgie! Move your boys up after dusk. I want to hit them with another full
brigade of infantry before sunset!”
Brink
was only too happy to comply, and he also had a couple battalions of fast
armored cars to throw in to exploit any holes his men might open. That was to
be the danger point for the Germans on day one of the battle. O’Connor was
thinking to push through with that infantry, and see what reserves the enemy
had at hand. It was like a bear sticking his snout in a beehive, and he was not
going to like what he found.
The XXX
Corps attack was developing in a very odd way, with 7th Armored sandwiched
between two infantry divisions now, the 1st South African on their right, and
the 4th Indian on their left. Both infantry divisions were breaking through,
while the armor seemed hopelessly tangled with the infantry of the German 90th
Light Division, dug in and firing from well prepared defenses. Reports of a new
hand held enemy anti-tank weapon began to come in from one regiment after
another. The Germans had something that could stop even a Matilda II dead in
its tracks, which made the commitment of armor in a breakthrough role very
costly, unless it was strongly supported by infantry.