Intelligence in War: The Value--And Limitations--Of What the Military Can Learn About the Enemy

by John Keegan

  “Sillies” were another form of laziness, suggested to a careless operator by the arrangement of the keyboard. Required to choose three letters for his first group, he might, instead of tapping at random, run his finger down a diagonal and then the alternative diagonal, on a QWERTZ keyboard (the later German arrangement) producing QAY and WSX. Because this was a silly thing to do, the crib offered was called by the Bletchley cryptanalysts “a silly,” hence “sillies.” Other sillies were short German girls’ names, perhaps that of the operator’s sweetheart, EVA or KAT. Some of the laziest sillies really were silly, ABC or DDD, though their use was quickly stamped out by higher authority; while the habit lasted it provided, nevertheless, numbers of breaks.

  The first Enigma key broken by Bletchley was Red, so-called because Welchman used a red pencil to distinguish it from others when he was—as his original task prescribed—identifying call signs. The Luftwaffe’s general-purpose key, it was first cracked on 6 January 1940, five months before the opening of the Battle of France, and was thereafter consistently broken until the end of the war, soon quite quickly on the day of use itself and then in real time; that is, as quickly as it was decrypted by its intended German recipients.29 The Red intercepts and decrypts were of vital importance during the Battle of Britain and the Blitz that followed it. The British listening stations, their listeners straining against static and interference and often having to indicate garbled or indistinct groups in their intercept reports—since the international Morse letters were easily confused with each other, particularly U and V (dot dot dash and dot dot dot dash), so frequently occurring in German—were eventually picking up transmissions from as far away as Russia and North Africa, the signals weakening as the onward march of the Wehrmacht increased distances. In April 1941 the listening stations were struggling to hear faint Morse transmissions from mainland Greece.

  THE GERMAN AIRBORNE DESCENT ON CRETE

  Hitler had not initially intended to invade Greece. After his great triumph in the West, and following the refusal of the British to accept defeat and make peace, his thoughts turned to invading Russia, a plan long laid. Before the strike—Operation Barbarossa—he decided that it was necessary to lay the diplomatic ground by persuading or coercing the Soviet Union’s south-eastern European neighbours, Hungary, Romania, Bulgaria and Yugoslavia, to join his Tripartite Pact alliance. He already controlled most of Russia’s borderlands, since, following the incorporation of Austria into the Reich in 1938, he had occupied Czechoslovakia in 1938 and conquered Poland in 1939. Hungary, Romania and Bulgaria acceded easily to membership of the Tripartite Pact: Bulgaria was a former German ally, Hungary had been part of the Austro-Hungarian empire, Romania feared Russian power. Yugoslavia proved more difficult. The Regent, Prince Paul, agreed to sign the Pact. The day after its accession, patriotic officers staged a coup and reneged on the treaty. Hitler was enraged. He at once diverted troops deploying for Operation Barbarossa and on 6 April, nine days after the counter-revolution, invaded Yugoslavia from Austria, Hungary, Romania and Bulgaria. He also launched from Bulgaria a simultaneous invasion of Greece, which remained staunchly anti-Nazi and had already allowed Britain to position forces on its territory.

  Churchill at once sent troops from North Africa, to which Hitler had already despatched Rommel and the advanced elements of what would become the Africa Corps, to shore up his failing Italian allies in Libya. The British Expeditionary Force met the invading Germans far to the north in Greece, on the Bulgarian border, but were rapidly pushed southwards, the Greek army also retreating southwards on their western flank. On 26 April the surviving British, forced to abandon most of their heavy equipment, were taken off from southern Greece. Some were evacuated directly to North Africa, some, including large numbers of Australian and New Zealand troops, were landed on the Greek island of Crete, where Britain had already established a base.

  Crete, the fourth largest island in the Mediterranean, closes the southern exit from the Aegean, with its many archipelagos of smaller islands. Its people are famously warlike. The last of the major Greek populations to win freedom from the Turks, they are celebrated among Greeks for their fighting qualities and fierce spirit of independence. In 1940 the 5th Cretan Division had gone to the mainland to fight the Italians, whom Mussolini had unwisely committed to invade Greece from recently conquered Albania. The Italians had been defeated and repelled. In April 1941, however, the Cretan Division was still far away on the northern Greek border, while the Cretan homeland lay undefended, except by the disorganised collection of British, Australian and New Zealand troops which had come from North Africa or escaped from the débâcle of the British intervention on mainland Greece.

  Hitler might have allowed Crete to wither on the vine. It was not essential to his strategy, either against the Soviet Union or in North Africa. On the other hand, it commanded the sea routes of the eastern Mediterranean and was important for that reason to the British, who intended to remain. Suspicious of peripheral strategies, which he correctly regarded as wasteful of force, and all the more so when he was about to invade the Soviet Union, Hitler had opposed earlier suggestions from Göring that the capture of Crete, together with Cyprus and Malta, would provide stepping stones towards the Near and Middle East. Göring persisted, however, and Hitler eventually gave in; part of the reason may have been a desire to compensate his air commander for the secondary role the Luftwaffe was to play in Operation Barbarossa. Göring, for his part, was less interested in strategic outcomes than in tactical participation. He had a full-strength parachute division available, which had not yet been used in an independent operation, and he yearned to show what it could do.

  The 7th Parachute Division had come into being by a roundabout route. When in 1935 the militarised units of the German police were incorporated into the army, to swell its expanding numbers, Göring was allowed, as Minister President of Prussia, to retain control of one regiment of the Prussian Landespolizei, which he brought into the Luftwaffe as the Hermann Göring Regiment; that nucleus would form what, during the Second World War, would become the formidable Hermann Göring Panzer Division.30 In 1936, however, part of the regiment was separated to undergo parachute training, in imitation of developments in the Red Army. The army also formed a parachute battalion at the same time, and while neither individually flourished, they were suddenly deemed to be useful when in 1938 Hitler decided to attack Czechoslovakia if he could not browbeat France and Britain into granting concessions over the Czechs’ heads. France and Britain were browbeaten; but by then the idea had emerged of forming a complete parachute division for use in special operations. It was put under the command of General Kurt Student, a Great War fighter ace who quickly brought it to a high level of efficiency. Units of the division took part in the invasions of Denmark and Norway in April 1940 and then in those of Belgium and Holland in May.

  In Belgium the glider-borne elements of the division achieved a spectacular success by capturing the fort of Eben Emael, which guarded a key bridge across the River Meuse, at almost no loss. In Holland things went less well. In Rotterdam and Dordrecht paratroopers seized and held two vital bridges successfully. At The Hague, both paratroopers and air-landing troops, flying in by transport aircraft, suffered heavy casualties on the ground. Losses among officers were 40 per cent, among soldiers 28 per cent, while aircraft losses exceeded two-thirds. Though Dutch resistance generally was quickly brought to an end, the airborne setback offered a warning, if heeded, that the new method of making war was beset by danger.

  The warning was disregarded. On 24 April 1941, Hitler wrote a Führer Directive, No. 28, which laid down aims and objectives for Operation Merkur (Mercury). It began, “As a base for air warfare against Great Britain in the Eastern Mediterranean we must prepare to occupy the island of Crete . . . Command of this operation is entrusted to Commander-in-Chief Air Force who will employ for the purpose, primarily, the airborne forces and the air forces stationed in the Mediterranean area. The Army . . . will make avai
lable in Greece suitable reinforcements . . . which can be moved to Crete by sea.”31

  Hitler had originally proposed that, if a mission for the airborne troops were sought (the army had by now trained its 22nd Division as an air-landing division), the objective should be Malta. It was a much better plan than that laid down in Directive 28 but Student and, more important, Hitler’s operations officer, General Jodl, were against it. They argued that Malta’s small size and compact shape would allow the British defenders to concentrate quickly and decisively against airborne invaders; Crete’s long and narrow shape, by contrast, would in their judgement force the defenders to disperse, waste their efforts and so predispose the outcome in favour of the offensive. Hitler had concurred. Once he had written Directive 28 the die was cast.

  During early May the 7th Parachute (formally Flieger) Division left its training areas in north Germany and began to move by train, a thirteen-day journey, to southern Greece. One of its regiments, the 2nd, had gone ahead to Bulgaria on 26 March and had taken part in the seizure of the Corinth canal. The division had an unusual organisation. Its three parachute regiments were composed, as was normal, of three battalions, but they were small, only 550 men each; there was also an engineer battalion trained, by German custom, to fight as infantry. In addition, however, the division also contained a fourth regiment, the Assault (Sturm) Regiment, of four battalions of troops trained to land and assault by glider. There was no divisional artillery and few support services. The parachutists, who were loaded in thirteen-man groups into the slow but steady Junkers 52 aircraft, dropped from low altitude (400 feet) on parachutes opened by static line. They carried only a pistol, their rifles and machine guns being dropped separately in canisters which had to be recovered later. The glider troops emplaned their rifles and heavy weapons with them but had to take their chance of surviving a hard landing on unprepared ground.32

  Supporting the 7th Division was the 5th Mountain Division, chosen to substitute for the 22nd Air-Landing Division which it had been decided to keep in Romania for use in the Barbarossa operation. The 5th Mountain Division had suffered heavy casualties in Greece and had been reinforced by the 141st Mountain Regiment from the 6th Division. All, in the 85th, 95th and 100th Mountain Regiments, were elite troops, originally belonging to the Austrian army, incorporated into the Wehrmacht at the Anschluss in 1938; two of the 100th Regiment’s soldiers, Kurz and Hinterstoisser (of the Hinterstoisser traverse), had died in the celebrated failure to scale the North Face of the Eiger in that year. The Mountain Division was scheduled to follow the glider and parachute troops by force-landing in Junkers 52 aircraft on the Cretan airfields after they had been captured in the airborne assault.

  The British defenders of Crete, whose outriders had arrived far ahead of the despatch of ground troops to the mainland in April, had quickly recognised the danger of a German airborne landing; Brigadier Tidbury, appointed commander of British troops on Crete on 3 November 1940, identified the four parachute dropping zones (DZ) the Germans would use in May as early as that December.33 All were either close to the three small airfields at Maleme, Rethymno and Heraklion or on the narrow north coastal plain near Canea, the capital. The geography of Crete confines any military operations to the north; the island, though 160 miles long, west to east, is only 40 miles at its widest, and steep mountain ridges, cut by rocky defiles, bar easy access to the south. It is a harsh landscape, though dotted with olive groves and the occasional little fields, and the people, hardy and frugal in their daily habits, were fiercely independent. Disorder always seethed in the highlands, as did internecine conflict.

  Had the 5th Cretan Division not been far away on the mainland in 1940, the Germans would not have been able to capture the island. “If only the Division were here” was a phrase heard on every Cretan’s lips throughout the battle. Ten thousand trained young Cretans would certainly have overcome the invaders, warriorlike though they were themselves. As it was, the Greek defenders consisted mainly of non-Cretan refugees from the débâcle on the mainland, and some locals too old or young for regular military service, about 9,000 altogether, hastily formed into eight regiments; often lacking uniforms, many were to be shot by the Germans as unlawful irregulars. The British garrison, positioned before the German campaign in the Balkans began, consisted of 14th Infantry Brigade, containing three regular pre-war battalions, 1st Welch, 2nd Black Watch and 2nd York and Lancaster; they were to be joined later from Egypt by the 2nd Leicesters and the 2nd Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders. In the aftermath of the withdrawal from Greece large numbers of Australian and New Zealand troops also arrived on the island, largely lacking their heavy weapons and badly disorganised by the ordeal of the retreat from the northern Greek frontier. They belonged to the 2nd New Zealand Division and the 6th Australian Division; the British units which had escaped from Greece were a miscellaneous collection of regular cavalry, yeomanry, Territorial infantry, Royal Marines and artillery, with few tanks or guns. The Royal Air Force had only five aircraft. The best of the survivors, who numbered 27,000 in all, were the New Zealanders, famously competent soldiers under the command of General Bernard Freyberg, a New Zealand Victoria Cross winner of the Great War. He would assume command of the whole of Creforce on his arrival from the mainland.34

  As the units became available, during their chaotic arrival from Greece in early May, Freyberg dispersed them as follows: the 2nd New Zealand Division, of nine battalions, around Maleme airfield and to the western end of the island, together with three Greek regiments, the British 3rd Hussars (seven tanks) and the 2nd Royal Tank Regiment (two tanks); around Suda, the main northern port, the marines, four Australian battalions, the 7th Royal Tank Regiment (two tanks), two Greek regiments and a force of Cretan gendarmerie; at the eastern end of the island, around Heraklion, four regular British infantry battalions, Black Watch, Leicesters, York and Lancaster, Argylls, an Australian battalion, ten tanks of the 2nd Royal Tank Regiment and 3rd Hussars, some artillery and two Greek regiments.

  Freyberg had arrived in Crete from Greece only on 29 April and did not expect to stay. He was anxious to go on to Egypt and reconstitute the New Zealand Expeditionary Corps. Churchill, however, had decided that he must command in Crete, which he had determined to hold. Freyberg was a favourite of his. He admired brave men inordinately and Freyberg, whom he knew of old, was exceptionally brave. His body bore the marks of twenty-seven wounds. Even before winning the Victoria Cross on the Somme, he had gained a wide reputation in the army for swimming the Hellespont to place guiding-lights on shore before the Gallipoli landings. Freyberg also had the common touch. Ordinary soldiers, British and Australian alike, admired him; to his own New Zealanders he was, of course, a national hero. Physically very large, outgoing in manner and quite without pomposity, Freyberg was a soldiers’ general. They knew his mind. When he said, “Go for them with the bayonet,” they knew he would do exactly that if he got the chance.

  He set up his headquarters in a quarry above Suda Bay, near Canea, as soon as appointed commander of Creforce. In a cave in the quarry his special intelligence officer, Captain Sandover, decrypted the Enigma intercepts—code-named OL (Orange Leonard) after a mythical agent—showed them to Freyberg and then burnt them.35 Sandover was a member of an exiguous staff. General Weston, the Royal Marine over whose head Freyberg had been appointed, resented his supersession and kept his own subordinates by him. As a result, Freyberg had to scratch to find functionaries. There was, anyhow, a notable shortage of trained staff officers, signallers and even wireless sets available to him. On Crete, an island requiring for efficient military purposes good local and telegraphic communications, but deficient in both, Creforce was hampered from the start.

  Yet, simultaneously, it enjoyed almost an embarrassment of intelligence riches. Because Operation Merkur was confided to the Luftwaffe, in descending order of responsibility to the IV Air Fleet, the VII and XI Air Corps and the 7th Parachute Division, and because Bletchley, though still struggling with the German army a
nd navy Enigma transmissions, could read the Luftwaffe traffic in real time, very exact warning of the German plans was sent to Creforce well before the operation began.

  Warnings of the coming airborne descent on Crete were sent to Freyberg, routed via Cairo, as early as 1 May. The first extensive description of the operation was sent on 5 May. It stated that German preparations would be complete on the 17th and that landings by the 7th Fliegerdivission (parachutists) and the corps troops of XI Fliegerkorps (glider) would be diverted against Maleme, Candia (Heraklion) and Retimo (Rethymno). Bomber and fighter units would then attack Maleme and Candia. Other army units were allotted, apparently to be carried by sea transport. On 7 May an Enigma decrypt clarified the previous signal, suggesting that “three mountain regiments more likely than third mountain regiment.” As we now know, the reference was to the decision to attach a regiment of 6th Mountain Division to 5th Mountain Division, all to be air-landed. As the accompanying army division was originally chosen to be 22nd Air-Landing Division, Freyberg’s staff concluded that 5th Mountain Division was to come by sea, not by transport aircraft.

  The Enigma decrypts correctly conveyed German intentions, which were to attack Crete with a parachute division (7th Flieger), the glider troops of XI Air Corps (the Assault Regiment) and an army division, initially the 22nd, for which the 5th Mountain was later substituted, reinforced by a regiment from the 6th Mountain Division, which were to be flown in by transport aircraft. The substitution of 5th for 22nd Division, and the references to sea transport, succeeded in confusing, disastrously, Freyberg’s appreciation of the threat he faced.