Tigers East (Kirov Series Book 25) Read online

  On the long wadi well south of the town, the Ariete Division was in a similar fight to the death with the 51st Highland Division. The northernmost segment of the British line was right on the wadi, the seam between the Italians and the German 164th Light Division to the south, which was well dug in to stony ground near Matan al Jafr. General Wemberly decided to make that seam his main effort, sending one reinforced regiment to lap up against the lines of the 164th in a masking attack simply intended to keep them in their positions. Then he committed the muscle of his other two regiments to fall upon the Ariete Division, which had already sent up lines of its medium tanks to hold the line.

  The British armored cars of the 8th Hussars, particularly the heavy hitting AEC III with a QF 6 Pounder main gun, and armor up to 65mm thick, outclassed the Italian M14/41 tanks, which had only 30mm frontal armor and a 47mm main gun. The armored cars were also faster and more agile on the field, and better coordinated, as each had a radio, a liability the Italians had yet to correct in their armored formations. Yet coordination in this terrain simply meant filing your armored cars up the narrow passways, and along the single coast road, and it would become a grueling battle of attrition. It would take those two British divisions on the coast all of three days to push through Mersa Brega, clearing the mines, sending in the infantry, moving up the tanks of 1st Brigade in support.

  No one would say the Italians did not acquit themselves well. Ariete and Littorio would fight tenaciously to hold that narrow coastal defile, while Rommel sat with his two Panzer Divisions in reserve, trying to decide whether to engage O’Connor’s armor as it attempted to wheel around his main defense over that horrid ground.

  It would not be the tenacity of the front line troops that decided this battle, but news that came with the arrival of Kesselring that same morning. It was both good and bad. Hitler had issued another of his stand fast orders. Kesselring was not to yield Algiers, and Rommel was not to withdraw from his Mersa Brega line.

  The good news was that Rommel was going to receive a nice new gift for his upcoming birthday, his old division from those halcyon days in France, the 7th Panzers.

  “We know it was a lot to ask of you when we called for 10th Panzer and all Goring’s troops,” said Kesselring. “So you will get this division to compensate you. Perhaps it will take some of the sting out of that order from the Fuhrer.”

  “The 7th Panzers?” Rommel was delighted, his mood elevated, eyes alight. This was the other phantom of those early days of the blitzkrieg, also called the “Ghost Division” when Rommel had it.

  “The service troops are already busy repainting the camo schemes on the tanks with desert colors,” said Kesselring with a smile. And I met that aide you favor at the airfield when I landed, Lieutenant Berndt. He has just returned from Germany with a briefcase full of letters from your wife Lucy, and a box of those cookies you always talk about. Save a few for me!”

  “This is excellent news!” said Rommel. “Yet you come with both fire and ice here, Kesselring.” Rommel paused, his mind working furiously, his thoughts congealing to a sudden new point of certainty. Now he knew what he had to do.

  “I was resigned to hold this position when I lost those troops earlier,” he began. “It is the only ground suitable for good defense when badly outnumbered. But don’t you see? Now that I will get another Panzer Division, I can fight again. I can maneuver. That damnable heavy brigade the British have been using as a hammer is not here. The Luftwaffe reports it has moved towards Tobruk. Without that to check my panzers, I can maneuver—fight the second war instead of the first, and adopt a much more mobile defense—or better yet, I can go on the offense! But not here, Kesselring. Not here. The terrain is suitable only for static defense. All I can do here is fight a battle of attrition, and you know that we are outnumbered. O’Connor has eight divisions.”

  “Then what are you proposing?”

  “That should be obvious—move west! Listen Kesselring, it is all of 400 kilometers to the Buerat Line where I have stockpiled fuel.”

  “Why there? Why did you not bring it forward to El Agheila?”

  “You know damn well why I left it there. Because I expected to find myself retreating to that place in due course. Now, however, the situation here has changed dramatically. I would have used 30% of that fuel just to move it here, but there was no way I had any need for it, except to fuel my retreat. I cannot attack here, not on this ground. On the other hand, I have enough fuel now to get where I need to go—not forward, back into that wasteland of Cyrenaica, but back to Buerat. The plan now is to give all that useless ground between here and Buerat to O’Connor. Let him be the one who must haul his fuel forward from Benghazi.”

  “You want to withdraw? Again? In spite of the fact that you are promised this new division? In spite of the Führer’s order?”

  “Of course! The Führer’s order aside for the moment, the reinforcement is the precise reason why withdrawal is called for now. I assume 7th Panzer Division will land in Tripoli. Perfect! Then I fall back to Buerat—fall back on strength as 7th Panzer comes down from Tripoli to meet me. O’Connor will think he’s won another battle, and he will huff and puff after me like a bad desert storm. I’ll throw him a few bones as I leave, and when I get to Buerat, 300 tons of gasoline will be waiting for me to top off my tanks. Not only that. A move to that line brings me 60% closer to my main supply source at Tripoli, while O’Connor burns fuel chasing me, and extends his supply lines by the same amount.”

  Now Kesselring saw what Rommel was saying. The genius of his mind could see the opportunity he had with such a move. His enemy would be tired, flushed with his perceived victory, but advancing farther and farther from Benghazi. “So there you will be at Buerat,” he said, “with three Panzer Divisions and the fuel to use them.”

  “Precisely! I will counterattack—but surely not here. They have enough infantry to plug that defile at Mersa Brega indefinitely, and I would simply be advancing away from my supply source again, even if I could get around that flank. What I need now is to lure O’Connor into Tripolitania. That’s where he wants to go, yes? So I’ll open the door and invite him in, but not to dinner. When he gets to Buerat and thinks to sit down at my table, he will get some very bad news.”

  “What about that heavy brigade?”

  “What about it? It is at Tobruk—too far away to intervene. Don’t you see? The ground means nothing. Beating the British 8th Army in the field means everything. Once I do that, I can take all this useless sand back again if I want, and make more pictures for the news reels. But that isn’t how we win here, not by holding at Mersa Brega and watching the British slowly wear down this army. No. We win by out-thinking the British, and out maneuvering them. I can do that at Buerat, but not here. You must persuade Hitler to allow me to withdraw.”

  “You know that will not be easy,” said Kesselring. “He is still steaming over the fact that I gave up Morocco.”

  “Of course he is, but you knew damn well that you could not hold there, or in the Canary Islands, with what little you had. You would have lost both those air mobile divisions, as well as Morocco. Every minute counted, and you knew what you had to do. You simply had to fall back on Algeria, and so now you can see the wisdom in what I now propose.”

  “I do see it, but I do not think I am the man to persuade Hitler in this.”

  “Then I will go myself! I’ll leave tonight.”

  “What? In the middle of a battle?”

  “General, my troops will know what to do when I order the withdrawal. In fact, that is what I am inclined to do—order it this moment, and present Hitler with a Fate Acompli. Then I will go to OKW and tell him why it had to be done. He will get angry, fail to understand, but if I promise him a new offensive, perhaps he will settle down again. This is strategic withdrawal, not retreat. I will find a way to get through to him.”

  Kesselring shrugged. Every military bone in his body told him Rommel was correct here. This is what had to be done, just as it h
ad been necessary for him to withdraw from Morocco. But somewhere, a line had to be held, and a battle had to be won. Could Rommel deliver on his promises? Nine months ago he was crowing about going to Alexandria. He thought, and thought again. Then smiled.

  “General Rommel,” he said slipping the Führer’s order into his coat pocket. “My plane was delayed. I was never here, and you never saw the order I have just put into my pocket. But by God, Rommel. If you do this, you simply must beat O’Connor. Fail again, and things will go very bad here.”

  Part V

  Fish in a Barrel

  “Alive without breath,

  As cold as death;

  Never thirsty, ever drinking,

  All in mail never clinking.”

  —J.R.R. Tolkien: The Hobbit

  Chapter 13

  It was a strange echo of the real history, for in the waning days of September, 1942, Rommel would return to Germany to meet with Hitler after the Battle of Alma Halfa Ridge at El Alamein. There he had forced his way through unexpected enemy mine fields in his attempt to swing around Montgomery’s defenses, only to abandon his plan for a wide envelopment around the ridge that ran west to east. Instead he had turned early, right for the ridge itself, and found that Monty had sprung a deadly trap on him. AT guns, mortars, artillery and enemy bombs rained down on his tanks and vehicles when they got stalled in soft sand. He lost his nerve and ordered a withdrawal, back through the hard won corridors through the minefields.

  Kesselring remarked that the old Rommel would have never done such a thing, and as he left Rommel in the alternate history we are exploring, a warning voice told him that Rommel seemed all too ready to give the British this gateway into Tripolitania. The Italians would scream in protest, seeing another big bite taken out of their last colonial holding in Africa. Mussolini would go to Hitler and demand that Rommel stop his withdrawal and stand his ground. Neither man would grasp the concept of strategic withdrawal, consolidation, the laws of overstretch that would soon constrain the British advance.

  In the old history, Rommel had been warmly greeted by Hitler, and given his Field Marshal’s baton. The cameras had been running, news reels proclaiming his achievements, taking the Afrika Korps right to the doorstep of Egypt. On this day in the old history, the cameras would film his hand on the doorknob of the international press room where Goebbels had arranged a press conference. He had used the moment to proclaim that: “we have the door to all Egypt in our hands.”

  Then he had gone to tell Hitler he would not give back an inch of the hard won ground he had claimed, now, he would go to tell him he wanted to hand the British half of Tripolitania, and not because he lacked adequate reinforcements, fuel, weapons and supplies, but instead because he had those things in abundance, and now he simply wanted to look for a bigger hunting ground.

  Hitler’s reaction at OKW should have been predictable. The Führer had been fussing over the maps again, impatient with the progress being made over the Don in Russia. But something would happen to change his mood, and at precisely the right time.

  * * *

  Far to the west, the American Army had felt its way east in the wake of Kesselring’s slow fighting withdrawal to Algiers. Hitler was noticeably upset with the loss of Morocco, which uncovered the southern approach to Gibraltar when Tangier fell On September 25th. That mad dash by Patton to take Tangier and its small harbor figured strongly in the calculus that led OKW to suggest Spain was now a liability. The Allied plan was now to quickly secure the Rock in the north, while pursuing the Germans east into Algeria in the south.

  “They won’t even try to hold Oran if they’re smart,” said Eisenhower.

  “The Hindenburg group left that port two days ago,” said Clark. They know it will be under our air power soon enough, but Algiers is another matter.”

  Oran was about 275 air miles from Gibraltar, 225 from Malaga on the coast further east, only 125 from Almiera, and 135 from Cartagena. The British were going to get their Spitfires and Hurricanes, and anything else that could pose a threat, to airfields in and around those cities in order to interdict that port. Algiers, however, was over 260 miles from Valencia, and 230 from Cartagena, and those would be the nearest airfields the Allies could use in Spain. It was then over 475 miles to fields at either Gibraltar or Fez, so the Allies would have to count on getting airfields running at Oran, still some 215 miles east of Algiers.

  “Trying to support this whole operation from Oran will be tough,” said Clark. “The British still haven’t taken Gibraltar, and we have yet to force the straits. Old methodical Montgomery will probably take weeks sorting out that mess in Spain, even if the Germans are withdrawing through Valencia to France. So in the short run, we could lose air superiority of we go for Algiers too soon.”

  “You try reining Patton in now,” said Ike. “He’s got the bit between his teeth—says he can throw the 34th Infantry at Algiers and then swing around the high country and threaten to cut the city off.”

  “Right,” said Clark. “Hold ‘em by the nose and kick ‘em in the ass. I’ve heard that speech.”

  “He did a good job in Morocco.”

  “The Germans were giving us Morocco.” Clark would give credit where it was due, but he thought they had been given a pass by the Germans after the Casablanca landings. “If you want my opinion, they just wanted those troops they had out there in the Canaries. Those are their only air mobile divisions, and they were smart to yank them out of there. The moment we landed, those islands were cut off and heavy fruit for the picking. Have the British moved back in?”

  “Not yet. We’ve tied up most of the available shipping, but their 110 Force on Tenerife is planning an operation against Gran Canaria.”

  Clark nodded. “Say Ike, did we ever find that missing page from the War Diary Harry Butcher was keeping?”

  “Not a trace,” said Eisenhower, “though I don’t suppose it matters much now. It might have had something to do with the fact the Germans had all those mechanized forces ready to move into Spain at the drop of a hat.”

  “What was this damn SS unit Montgomery bumped up against there?”

  “Some Franco/German outfit. Looks like the SS rounded up all the bad ass Vichy boys and recruited them. Hell, we didn’t even know the unit existed. It even got by the boys at ULTRA. But that doesn’t matter now either. The Germans have pulled it back into France. Intel thinks it was a widely dispersed internal security unit, and they pulled it together on a moment’s notice. But it sure sounds like they had a heads up on what we were planning. We’ve got to tighten down security even more now.”

  “Tit for tat,” said Clarke. “If Rommel knew we were reading all his gripes to OKW, he’d have a fit. This ULTRA outfit is top notch. They can tell us what Kesselring had for breakfast this morning.”

  “He gets a full breakfast?” Ike smiled. “We must be doing something wrong. All I ever get is a boiled egg and something they’re calling a biscuit. The coffee here is nothing more than sludge.”

  “General,” said Clark. “I’m told they make some fine coffee in Africa. All the more reason for us to finish the job down there. Then we can go after that fine Italian and French wine.”

  General Situation – Oct 1, 1942

  With the withdrawal order given, the Allies finally forced their way south to the doorstep of Gibraltar. Hube had pulled out two days earlier, and his troops were now mostly on the roads and rail lines heading east and then north to Valencia and Barcelona. There were several incidents of rail sabotage, roadblocks and sniping at the Germans, but when Himmler ordered his SS Charlemagne troops to make an example of one town, the resistance waned. Soon his fanatical Frenchmen were back in their own country, dispersing again to aid in controlling the local population during what was now the final “Occupation” of what was once Vichy France.

  It would take ten days before Hube had all his troops out of Spain, then the 337th and 334th Infantry took up new posts along the Spanish border, their regiments dispatched to a
ll the key potential crossing points. 15th Infantry moved to Toulon to relieve the German Panzer Divisions there, and Hube took his 16th Division to Marseilles. The Germans then began collecting shipping from all the French ports on the Mediterranean, and additional ships from Italy. They had every intention of making a fight for North Africa, and there were now three Panzer Divisions in Southern France, one of them newly equipped after returning from the Russian Front.

  It was therefore decided that von Arnim would take Command of the newly formed 5th Panzer Army, keeping the 10th Panzer Division and Goering’s troops sent by Rommel. The 6th Panzer would remain in France until the security situation was deemed adequate. There it would also continue its refit, and its disposition would be determined by the facts on the ground in North Africa. Rommel was getting the 7th Panzer, with all new equipment.

  Patton had moved aggressively to flank the German defense of Algiers, but he was about to run into a much tougher defense than he had encountered in Morocco. There the Germans had delayed his effort south of Casablanca with the timely arrival of the 327th Infantry Division from Fez. After that, Student’s 1st Flieger Division had fought a delaying action, eventually yielding the ground when Kesselring opted to fall back on Algeria. So the Americans were about to be tested as never before as they closed in on Algiers.

  The 34th Division had been the last to land, and they had moved up to Tangier, occupying that city and then taking Ceuta opposite Gibraltar itself. German demolitions in the harbors and shore battery installations had been very thorough, but a battalion of artillery was left at Ceuta as the 34th then moved along the coast road. The remainder of the Allied force then followed Kesselring’s retreat from Fez, though they had to do so by truck. When the Germans left, it would be the last train ride from Fez east for some time. They dedicated a special team to tear up the tracks behind them.