Stormtide Rising (Kirov Series Book 29)

by Schettler, John

  Kingstone had been the first man to greet them. His Kingforce had turned over the positions now occupied by the 8th Indian Division, and moved well south and east along the lower reaches of the Army Canal. They had been watching the long column of General Briggs’ 5th Indian Division arriving on the road to Baqubah, very happy to see this much needed reinforcement. When the tanks of the 9th Armored Brigade came clattering up along the inner bund road, Kingstone repeated his exclamation, beaming ear to ear—“bloody marvelous!”

  The light tanks of the 3rd Hussars swept by in a dusty column, soon followed by 34 Shermans of the Warwickshire Yeomanry. It was not a brigade padded and heavily reinforced as with those in O’Connor’s 8th Army. While his massive 23rd Armored Brigade had 300 tanks, this one would field about 90, with a dozen AEC-III armored cars and a score of light armored carriers. It also had a full battalion of lorried infantry, the 11th Kings Royal Rifles, with four companies. Those men came up to man gaps in the inner bund line where Brigadier Ford had retreated, and the first two tank battalions charged up the road towards that breech to attack KG Schafer. They arrived just in time to save Sergeant Kemp and the 5th Queen’s Own Rifles from being overrun near the Sports Club.

  The Shermans quickly blasted several halftracks, sending the rest of the 1/I 33 Panzergrenadier Company reeling back, until two panzer companies attached to this kampfgruppe came up to give challenge. Between them, they had 28 Pz-IVF2’s and a sharp firefight ensued. The Germans found the lighter M5’s easy pickings for the long barreled 75s on those F2’s. The Shermans had tougher armor, but it could still be easily penetrated by those guns. It would come down to experience, where the Germans possessed a decisive edge, with men who had fought off hordes of T-34s in Russia the previous year. To them, this was no great challenge, and the British would soon learn lessons the Russians had taken over many long months of fighting.

  Chapter 20

  When word reached Jumbo Wilson at the British Embassy, he looked at the breakthrough by KG Schafer with some alarm. “This puts 24th Indian Brigade in the Kazimiyah District west of the Tigris in a bad way,” he said. “If we can’t stop that attack, and I mean throw it back completely, then Le Flemming’s entire brigade will be cut off, and useless to us for all intents and purposes. I think we should order those troops back over the bridge. They will strongly reinforce the Al Zamiyah District, and then I think we can stop these brigands. For that matter, Barker’s 27th Indian Brigade is getting squeezed against the river bend near the Tayfiyah Ferry. Let’s get that unit back as well. The ferry site doesn’t matter, as long as we hold the east bank landings. Order the 27th to fall back towards the main rail yards.”

  “Very good, sir,” said the staff officer. “And what about the Kazimiyah Bridge?”

  “If it can be safely wired for demolition in the midst of all this hubbub, then do so. We should have had charges placed on all these bridges long ago. See to it.”

  Those orders would soon put a stop to the fighting at the Grain Factory, and the stubborn bottleneck that had held back the 1st Brandenburg Regiment all day would soon be uncorked. Guderian was so bothered by the lack of success there, that he had given orders to Konrad to begin taking his Lehr Regiment around the marshy ground to instead follow the main road and rail lines where 2nd Brandenburg was attacking through the Spinning and Weaving Factory. That order would bring a strong surge of German troops to the Gardens and Grain Factory, just when those orders from Wilson to withdraw would come in the middle of that difficult fight.

  24th Brigade was able to disengage and fall back to the Kazimiyah bridge, their scattered companies falling into line and waiting to cross behind a thin rearguard. They would be giving up the bottleneck, the Al Kazam Mosque, Post Office, and Hospital, where a few companies still held forth as part of the rear guard.

  Further south, the German assault on the Grain Factory had just pushed the Royal Engineers out of that silo again. The British were doggedly organizing ‘for another go,’ when the orders finally came to withdraw with the 27th Indian Brigade and cover the main rail yards. Only 16 of an original 27 squads were left in the battalion, with many walking wounded among the living.

  The sun was low and the shadow of evening now crept over the city, the long day finally coming to a close. Under cover of darkness, the Germans would move forward to occupy all of the Kazimiyah District west of the Tigris. But the real crisis point was still the breakthrough by KG Schafer towards Al Zamiyah. The defense of the outlying neighborhood of Adhamiya was completely compromised, the last solid British battalion, the Royal Fusiliers, finally abandoning their well sandbagged positions and falling back.

  Kingforce, on the lower Army Canal, was getting confused reports of the action, and the Brigadier was given reason for concern. The breakthrough at the Arab Hikmat had roughed up Ford’s 19th Indian Brigade, which had been unable to stop the Germans from crossing the canal and bund line, though they were still holding on the inner bund. If that attack pushed due south, it would have the effect of slowly compromising Kingstone’s own positions on the outer bund-canal line. He got on the radio to Wilson to see what was up.

  “Good news,” he reported. “5th Indian Division is coming through our lines right now. Briggo is taking them up the rail line towards the city center.”

  “And in the nick of time,” said Wilson. “Do the men look like they still have any fight in them?”

  “Well, they’ve had a long march, and may need a good night’s rest, but they’ll fight,” said Kingstone. “I’m worried about Ford’s Brigade near the Arab Hikmat. The Germans did us a favor and finally cleared that rat’s nest out, but that attack will compromise my positions on the outer bund.”

  “It may,” said Wilson, “but I want you to hold there tonight. You know how the Germans shuffle about after dark. I don’t want them thinking they can swing south. Keep a good eye out for me, will you Joe?”

  “Right-O,” said Kingstone. “Nothing gets round my flank that I won’t know about, and if necessary, I’ll send out the armored cars to patrol tonight.”

  “That would be wise. Where is Glubb Pasha? He’s a good man in a situation like this.”

  “God only knows,” said Kingstone. “The last I heard, he was west of the Tigris.”

  “Well, if he can be found, you might want his Dusky Maidens to have a look about tonight.”

  “I’ll see what I can do, sir.”

  So Kingstone would stay right where he was. But he did put out a radio call in code that only Glubb would hear and understand. He was indeed west of the Tigris, down near Al Haj Kadhm, where the river made a sharp hairpin bend. The rail line ran down around that bend, before continuing south to eventually reach Basra. Since the 10th Indian Division had pulled itself in tight to defend the Royal Palaces, Glubb’s little Arab Legion was the only force watching the rail line now. He had been mixing about with the local Arabs, using his amazing knowledge of the language and culture to see if he could drum up some support from the local tribes, and possibly fill out his ranks a bit.

  In many ways, Glubb Pasha was even more skilled as an ambassador to the Arabs than Lawrence of Arabia had been. He could hear every subtlety in the language dialects, and one look at an Arab’s headdress, the way he might wear and tie off his waist sash, his every mannerism, were like an open book to him. He could speak back to the Arabs in that very same dialect, knowing it intimately, and thus made quick and easy friendships, gaining many followers.

  Kingstone had tweeted to him that night, obviously wanting him to report, though his men had detected no German movement towards that river bend. Glubb’s men were the only thing stopping the enemy from simply heading south, but he instinctively realized that the Germans could not do that while Baghdad was still in British hands. So he asked the locals to send men to places he knew well if the Huns came that way, and then he took his detachment east, following the road along the river that would eventually take him to one of the real great prizes in this battle—the Al Dayrah
Oil Center, which would later come to be called the Dora Refinery.

  This facility had really taken root after the war, but now it was a depot and oil storage area, with some small refining capacity. Oil previously refined near Basra was railed up to this depot, and stored in growing tank farms there to serve the needs of the city, and the military. It was a prize that would put good, usable fuel into the hands of Heinz Guderian for his drive south if he won this battle, and Glubb Pasha saw it as the most important objective of the fight.

  That’s where he was taking his Arab Legion, and considering that Kingstone seemed to be asking for his support, he resolved to go find the man and see if he could turn things around. He wanted to convince Kingstone that he should be looking to the defense of those valuable oil stores, but he would not find him that night.

  23 FEB, 1943

  (Map 3)

  As the darkness thickened, the evacuation of the Kazimiyah District was completed, with 24th Brigade coming over the bridge in good order and taking up positions in the Al Zamiyah District. The Germans kept up a desultory shelling of the bridge area, which was just enough to prevent the Royal Engineers from getting any real work done to try and set charges. Further south, two companies of the 27th Brigade under Brigadier Alan Barker got pinned against the river near the Al Tayfiyah Ferry, but otherwise, that force retired to take up a new defensive line screening the main rail yards. It was to be their last night of relative calm.

  That rail yard was one of Guderian’s main objectives on this side of the river. He wanted it to keep his clearing and control of the Baghdad rail line moving along, to gain the workshops, engineering bays and fuel sites there, both for oil and coal. For this attack, he had moved Konrad’s Lehr Regiment through the lines of 2nd Brandenburg Regiment, and that night they would rest and prepare for a renewed assault at dawn.

  So we are now masters of the west bank as far south as that rail yard, thought Guderian, pleased with the day’s work. Except for the delay imposed on the 1st Regiment at the bottleneck, his troops had fought hard and well to clear the two factory sites and garden area, finally reaching the river. Now he knew that he had cut the 6th Indian Division in two, with part of it east of the river in the north retiring over that bridge, and the rest defending the rail yard.

  KG Schafer’s breakthrough at Adhamiya was the key moment east of the river, he thought. Now that Hans Hube has finally come up with Westhoven’s 3rd Panzer Division, that attack can really gain momentum tomorrow. But the British surprised us a bit there when they brought up armor. We had no reports of enemy tanks up until now, and that changes things. I must determine what these units are, but I cannot imagine that they will stop Hube here, not with two good panzer divisions under his command. He’ll be like a charioteer, with two strong steeds pulling him to battle. I expect good results at Al Zamiyah tomorrow, and hopefully we can clear that district quickly.

  So both attacks on the 23rd will converge on one area. I want Konrad to focus his efforts north of the rail yards and drive right for the Royal Ferry site and main bridge. I want Hube to ride his chariot due south, cutting off Al Zamiyah, and he is to aim for the Royal Palace, one of many in this city, or so it seems. Perhaps this plan can bag a good chunk of the Indian troops in Al Zamiyah. We shall see how nimble they are today.

  Guderian would spend the night in the Spinning & Weaving Factory, consulting with General Beckermann of the Brandenburg Division and laying out what he wanted from him the following morning.

  “The Lehr Regiment will do the work tomorrow,” he said. “Swing them north of the rail yard and go for the bridge. Send Duren’s 3rd Regiment right into the yards as a holding force to keep the enemy in play there. I want those yards cleared by tomorrow night. You can bring down Langen’s 4th Regiment to follow the Lehr Regiment.”

  “What about the north?” asked Beckermann. “Will you want me to mount a river crossing operation there?”

  “No. Secure the west bank of the Kazimiyah Bridge, hold the ferry sites and get a few assault boats there, but otherwise, you can rest your 1st and 2nd Regiments in the morning. I may have work for them in the afternoon.”

  “Then Hube will clear Al Zamiyah?”

  “He’s got both panzer divisions now. I think he’ll force the British to give us that whole district by noon. It will either be that, or we bag all those forces an cut them off.”

  “That will mean we’ll have to hold them there, and plan to reduce that pocket. It will take some steam out of our engine.”

  “We’ll see,” said Guderian. “Just focus on getting me that rail yard tomorrow.”

  General Beckermann nodded, his dark hair catching the lamp light. When he concentrated his division like this, it had never failed to produce the desired results. But he much preferred to be out in open country, running his regiments in a fast moving battle of maneuver. He still had memories of Volgograd. The Russians still have pockets of resistance in that damn city, he thought. Let us hope Baghdad does not become that for us here. Hube should attack tonight….

  * * *

  He did.

  Hans Hube could read a battlefield as good as any man alive, and what he saw when he arrived at Adhamiya was an enemy defense that had been battered and pushed back, a tank fight that he had to win, and a good fresh division to use for just that purpose. Tempted to rest his men after the march from Al Taji, he circulated among some of the battalion officers, assessing their readiness.

  “We’re ready, General,” one man said. “Time for a good night action. We’ll have them on the run before the sun comes up.”

  It was not exactly what Guderian had planned, hoping to have both Konrad and Hube jump off at dawn, but Hube had every confidence that he could break through.

  That is the beauty of the concept of Schwerpunkt , he thought. I can attack on a narrow front, and use mass and shock to break through only one segment of the enemy line. And that is exactly what I will order my men to do.

  When 3rd Panzer Division completed its river crossing at Al Taji, it quickly organized for an attack as Guderian had ordered. But Hube had advanced the timetable by six hours, hoping to catch the British napping, as he said to his staffers. It was just Brigadier Purves’ bad luck that the main attack would come right into the lines of his 21st Indian Brigade northeast of Al Zamiyah. His men had a long hard day, and they were posted where KG Schafer had already broken through, fighting without rest for the last eight hours. Soon he and his men were in a whirlwind of trouble. (Map 4)

  3rd Panzer was up to strength, and it came in hard, with four battalions of infantry supported by two panzer battalions. The first wave of the attack fell on edge of the town, the fire from the tanks setting wood frame structures aflame and sending up a pall of grey smoke. The fat gibbous moon was still up, slowly falling towards the horizon where it would not set until twenty minutes after sunrise. In that hour, the sun and moon would hang on both horizons, as if the heavenly Gods themselves were eager to survey the outcome of the battle.

  Purves’ men were driven into the lines of 24th Indian Brigade, which had crossed the bridge the previous evening and was resting near the main road. Finding this line of strong reserves behind them the officers soon rallied the brigade, urging them to hold.

  That was a mistake.

  What the British needed now was battlefield awareness, and the pre-dawn darkness and thickening smoke was clouding Purves’ judgement. He should have moved to his right, attempting to block the point of Hube’s Schwerpunkt , but he stubbornly held his ground. If Hube’s grenadiers could push another 1500 meters, they would reach the river, bagging both the 24th and 21st Indian Brigades. There would be no way out of Al Zamiyah if the British wanted to hold it, save a single ferry at Al Safina that would be under German fire from across the river from two angles.

  There were now only 17 of 24 Shermans left in the Royal Wiltshire Yeomanry, and those that remained were down to only two or three shells each. The Warwickshire Yeomanry still had 31 Shermans, and more
than half their ammo, so they put in a counterattack, catching a company of light tanks in the 1st Battalion, 6th Pz Regiment. A hump had formed just a few hundred meters to the east, where the infantry of the 11th Kings Royal Rifles had stopped the attack by the 195th Sturm Regiment, but now Hube’s attack was threatening to cut them off as well. Thankfully, an astute Lieutenant surmised the danger, and he blew hard on his whistle, calling on his men to fall back out of the trap.

  Then word finally reached 6th Indian commander at his headquarters in the Royal Mausoleum of King Faisal. General Thompson looked pale when he got the news—the Germans were breaking through towards the Sports Club, and if they took it, they would cut the road from the Kazimiyah Bridge.

  “Bloody hell!” he exclaimed when he finally found his voice. “Then it’s no good here, and Old King Faisal will have to get some cruder company. We need to move east, and that quickly! Get orders to the 24th Brigade at once, and get ready to move the division headquarters…” He looked over his map. “Here, the Royal Palace. We might hold out there for a while.”

  “But sir, what about all the supplies bunkered here?”

  “Damn it man, leave them! We can’t burn them, not here in the mausoleum, and we haven’t the time to load them up on trucks. Now get moving.” That didn’t sit well with the Lieutenant, and after he had passed on those orders, he went into one of the storerooms and took a good long piss on a big sack of flour. Let the Germans try and eat that, he thought with an evil grin.

  Thompson posted two Assyrian Levies in the mosques, reasoning that they were their holy places, so let them defend them. British troops had made a point of not going into them, even though the tall minarets would have been excellent observation posts. Then he was off to the Royal Palace, about three kilometers on the road leading east and south. He had instinctively seen what Hube was planning, but the orders to withdraw would not reach every company that night, and many would still be on the line when the sun rose.