“But sir, if I hadn’t moved to support Selby’s 28th, the Germans would have pushed right through the Airfield Settlement and overrun the whole field hours ago.”
“Well that was Selby’s problem—not yours! Now you’ve pulled the cork out of the bottle and that’s why the Germans have that Ginnery. You’ll answer for this, Arderne. Mark my words. Now I’ll have to move MacGregor back, and by God, we might end up losing the Palace of the Crown Prince in all this business. Now where exactly are you?”
Arderne knew he could not argue the matter over the radio. He gave Blaxland his current grid coordinates, and then tried to appraise him of the general situation. “From what I can piece together, Barker’s 27th has been completely overrun near the river. Selby’s 28th is on my right, and his flank is on the Faisal Road. But the Germans are there as well! It looks like they might get right around Selby’s flank.”
“Damn annoying,” said Blaxland, his poached egg sitting cold by uneaten toast.
“Sir,” said Arderne. “I’ll need to move again soon. We’re in a bit of a pickle here. Where would you want my men?”
Blaxland looked over his map. “Get to the Washash Camp, if you can do so. And this time hold that flank!”
“But I don’t think Selby can cover the Faisal Bridge, or for that matter, the Al Jisir Bridge either. If the Germans take them, then we’ll have no way to get back over the river.”
That’s your bloody problem, Arderne. We aren’t supposed to get back over the river. I’ve no orders to that effect. We’re to hold the bloody palaces! Now get your brigade to the Washash Camp, and you’d better damn well hold it!”
There were men who threw themselves into the thick of things in this war, and there were those that found places to hide, and ways to blame others when things went wrong. Blaxland hung up the phone, shaking his head and determined to convene a Court-Martial for Arderne when this was all over. He would, in fact, later go on to become the Chairman of the Indian National Army Courts-Martial in New Delhi, and become the bane of many a man like Arderne. With that, he finally ordered MacGregor to extend his lines east of the Al Hartiyah settlement just north of the two palaces, determined to cover and defend them as best he could. If Arderne couldn’t follow orders, Blaxland bloody well could.
* * *
Far to the northwest, Westhoven’s envelopment attack was breaking through the seam between Langran’s 9th Indian Brigade, and Kingforce. Jumbo Wilson’s warning to Kingstone had come true. While there was no cause and effect in play here, Kingstone had pushed on that flank when he ordered his Warwickshire battalion to get after the 78th Division. Now he got back a storm of mechanized panzer troops, backed up by a good many tanks.
KG Kufner and a part of Westhoven’s Division were storming into the small hamlet of Kharisan, and the Warwickshire Battalion was only half a kilometer to the right. Now Kingstone could see the dark, squat shapes of tanks lumbering his way, and he cursed under his breath. He could see that Langran’s men were already in retreat, falling back through the marshy ground through the few good gaps and reforming just north of the Slaughterhouse on the main rail line to Basra. Kingstone knew his position on the outer bund would soon be compromised, and he called Wilson’s HQ on the radio to confer, but could not reach the General. Wilson was too busy trying to get set up at the Hotel Sinbad, so Kingstone had to act on his own.
It’s no good here, he thought, and to hell with these bloody flies. “Staff Sergeant!”
“Sir!”
“Get word to all the battalions out on the Bund. We’re moving out. They’re to fall back to the Kayam Quarter. Map Grid 46 by 89.5. There’s good ground there for defense. We’ll cover the East Barracks and Rail Station with this move. Smartly now.”
* * *
Arderne held on until dusk on the 25th to pull out of his sticky situation under cover of dark. Schmidt was only too glad to let him go, because the Brandenburg 3rd Regiment was only now crossing the airfield under cover of that same cloak of darkness, and 4th Regiment was mopping up the last of Barker’s 27th Brigade. Poor Barker’s guns were overrun on the field, long ago abandoned by the gunners. The last of his men were holed up in the hovels of Sulaymaniyah, and he, himself had fled to the Isolation Hospital just north of the airfield, where he was soon found by elements of the Lehr Regiment. When Arderne got to the Washash Camp, he found the Germans trying to infiltrate there with a company from their recon battalion, and promptly set his men on them. He would get his brigade into that camp, and then he was determined to follow his latest order from Blaxland, and hold it.
Selby saw what he was doing, and needed no further encouragement to fall back on his right. Most of his men got back, though one company got trapped in the Museum and would be lost. He did not have enough men to extend his line all the way east to the river, so that flank would still be hanging in the air, where only a few companies of railyard workers and supply service troops were milling about.
In effect, Blaxland’s whole 10th Indian Division, plus Selby’s Brigade from the 6th Indian, were now cut off in the south. Behind them, the wide sweep of the Tigris turned west in a big hairpin loop and the river was very wide there, with no more bridges. The Germans had the west end of all the main bridges entering central Baghdad, and even managed to get two more companies across the southernmost Al Jisir Bridge.
There, the 4th Brigade of the British 2nd Infantry Division was finally arriving under McLennan. They would reach the bridge just in time to stop the Germans, where they immediately organized a counterattack with two battalions backed by the armored cars of the recon battalion. So the Germans would hold the west end of all those bridges, but they could not exploit to the east bank over any of them.
Yet the day had seen dramatic developments that delivered the whole railyard area and Al Muthana Airfield into German hands. They had seized the British Embassy, sending Wilson packing, and the Abwehr was already there, rifling through the place to scrutinize anything of potential value they could find. They also had the radio station, and the parliament building complex, a key political objective. There they hoped to invite Rashid Ali back to begin setting up a new Iraqi government in opposition to the British he hated so deeply. He was already on a plane, bound for the newly captured airfield.
As for the remaining British troops west of the Tigris, if the Germans continued to press Arderne and Selby the following day, the only way those brigades could reach safe ground now would be at a few ferry sites on the big hairpin bend of the river. Blaxland could pull out MacGregor and his last brigade at the Royal Palace under Finlay if he wished. They could still move along the rail line south around that big hairpin, where they would eventually follow in the footsteps of Glubb Pasha.
All the rest of Wilson’s army was still deployed in an arc defending central Baghdad, bounded by the Tigris on the left, and the inner bund and marsh line on the right. Westhoven’s maneuver had attempted to flank that line, and now he was only 600 meters from the slaughterhouse he had been told to take, facing off against Langran’s 9th Brigade of 5th Indian Division. Now Guderian would meet with Hube to assess their prospects for the following day. (Battle Map 6)
“We might reach that slaughterhouse tonight if I continue to attack,” said Hube. But the men need some rest, and it will take more time to get supplies down there, over all those little canals.”
“But it was a good move,” said Guderian. “It forced them to abandon the outer bund line. We’ve cut off the last of their men west of the river, and for all intents and purposes, we’ve got the rest of their army penned up in central Baghdad. The only question now is whether or not we can kill it.”
“That won’t be easy,” said Hube, “and it will take time. It’s taken these four days of hard fighting just to clear out most of the west bank.”
“True,” said Guderian, but now we have the rail yards and airfield, and I can move supply into both places. I was hoping to get over one of the river bridges, but they got up a fresh infantry
division last night, this time British regulars. We’ve taken all the crossing points on this side of the river, but thus far they have been bridges to nowhere. We haven’t been able to get a strong force into the central city on any of them. They’ve found reserves just when they needed them most.
“What else do they have coming?” asked Hube.
“The Luftwaffe says there doesn’t seem to be anything more heading north from Basra, but it would be good if we cut that rail line soon. What are your prospects with Westhoven’s division?”
“That whole flank will not be easily turned. There’s a lot of marshland, with only a few places where the armor can get through, and those will be easily defended. Then there’s another bigger canal system to the south, screening off the rail line to Basra. That one will need pontoon bridging, and we’ve used a lot of what we had to get over the little canals. What we really need now is another couple infantry divisions.”
Guderian smiled. “There was still one more division assigned to 12th Infantry Korps, but it has not made the transit through Turkey yet. So the only infantry we might pull in would be a regiment of the 22nd Luftland.”
“You know what Manstein would say—this isn’t a fight for Panzer Divisions. Pull them out and wait for the infantry.”
“Yes,” said Guderian. “He might say that, which is exactly what he did at Volgograd. But Hitler is waiting too, for news of the outcome of this battle, and I don’t think he wants to hear that we’ve pulled your Panzer divisions out to wait for infantry we may never see.”
Hube nodded. They had bested their enemy at every battle these last four days, but what had they won but bridges to nowhere. The airfield would be useful now, unless the British kept it under their guns. They seemed determined to hold the city, and now they had the equivalent of four infantry divisions, one freshly arrived, and two armored brigades. “They’ll dig in tonight,” he said.
Guderian shrugged, and rubbed his brow.
Part IX
Sea Change
“ So hope for a great sea change
On the far side of revenge.
Believe that further shore is reachable from here.
Believe in miracles
And cures and healing wells.”
— Seamus Heaney
Chapter 25
“Blaxland? What’s your situation?”
It was Jumbo Wilson, wanting to know what in the world was happening west of the Tigris. He had five brigades over there the previous day. Now he would learn he had four.
“Sir, I’m still sitting firm on my objectives. Both palaces are secure, but it’s been very confused to the north. I’m afraid one of my Brigadiers got a little too rambunctious. He moved from his assigned positions without proper orders, and went running off to defend the airfield. But Jerry’s taken that in any case, so it was all for naught. It caused a good bit of disruption down here.”
Wilson had been at the Sinbad Hotel, but it was right on the east bank of the river, and easily hit by German guns. So he had moved inland to a sturdy concrete building that served as the Iraqi Police College. He found no students in session, the place abandoned, the police themselves all shedding their uniforms and slipping away into the night.
“Where are your lines?” Wilson asked.
“I’ve got Finlay with me here, MacGregor’s to the north, and his lines reach east, just below the Cotton Ginnery. I’ve posted Arderne at the Washash Camp. It was his shenanigans that shook things up down here, I’m sorry to say. I’ve told the man to hold that camp and stay put.”
“Well I’m not sure that’s a very good idea,” said Wilson. “The thing is this—the Germans have control of the whole west bank, all the way down to the Parliament buildings and even beyond. So you see, there’s no road that you can use to come our way now. All the bridges are closed. If you’ve got men at Washash Camp, then the only way they’ll get to safe ground is over the two ferry sites, and that could be risky. Can you pull them in closer to the palaces?”
“I suppose I might. It’s where I had that brigade from the start, watching the River Khir.”
“Alright, then here’s the plan. I want you to pull those men in, Arderne and MacGregor—Selby too. I’m attaching his brigade to your division. There’s a ferry just east of the palaces, and if the service troops can get across that way, all the better, but it looks like you’ll have to foot it round the river bend now.”
“Round the bend?” said Blaxland. “You mean give up the palaces?”
“Of course, we don’t need them now, do we? The only thing of any real value on that side of the Tigris was the airfield, and frankly, if your man Arderne took it upon himself to try and save it, I rather tend to think he did the right thing. We lost Barker’s entire brigade yesterday trying to hold it. He’s gone, and I don’t want that to happen to you. So I want you to fold back your lines, get round the bend, and take up positions you can hold in case the Germans think about trying to turn that flank. Understand?”
“Where, exactly?” Blaxland wasn’t comfortable with uncertainties.
“Well, you might start by covering the rail line through 42-81.” That was the Al Mahdi station, down at the deepest point in the river bend. “Keep Jerry out of there, and by all means, don’t let them get anywhere near 46-83.” That was the Dayrah Oil bunkerage and refinery where Glubb Pasha had gone. “That last one has to be held at all cost.”
“You realize that whole area is wide open,” said Blaxland. “It’s open all the way to the Euphrates. There’s no way I could possibly cover that if they want to get round my flank.”
“Look—we’ve more help on the way. In the meantime, take the whole lot, and then you need to cover that flank as best you can. Move tonight, under cover of darkness. I’m counting on you, Blaxland. See to it.”
The Colonel, acting commander of the 10th Indian, set down the receiver with a raised eyebrow. Fold back the line? Get the service troops to the ferry sites? Give up the palaces and get round the river bend to Al Mahdi? Cover the entire bleeding left flank of the city, and with four brigades? This was much more than he ever expected when he thought to report to Wilson that night. Much more indeed.
“Lieutenant Fitch!” he said angrily, and Fitch came rushing in from the next room. “This is most irregular. See to my shipping chest, and then gather up personal effects and all the paperwork. We’re moving.”
“Tonight sir?”
“Yes, tonight. Wilson’s had too much gin I suppose. He wants the whole lot down south with our right at the nose of the river bend and the rest hanging off into nowhere. Damn irregular. No dinner tonight, I’m afraid. We’ll have to get out orders to all the brigadiers—and oh yes, include Selby in that. He’s been attached to our division. Have them all make for the palaces, and then we’ll lead the way tonight. Ridiculous, but there it is. Orders from Jumbo Wilson.”
He shook his head.
Arderne had settled into the Washash Camp, ejected a company of German recon troops that had gotten there first, and now he had his men improving the sandbagged defenses when a radio call came in from Fitch.
“You’re to move tonight,” said Fitch. “Grid 40-84.5, and Selby is to follow you.”
“Selby?”
“He’s been attached. Move out as quietly as you can, and come quickly. It’s going to be a busy night.”
Arderne looked at his map for those grid coordinates, seeing it was the Palace complex. “Well someone is finally gotten some sense into his head.”
“I’d button your lip, if I were you, Arderne. Blaxland isn’t happy, and he’ll throw eggs at anyone he can find to take the blame, if you know what I mean.”
“Alright. We’re moving. Eddie out.”
When the headquarters was packed and loaded on a truck, Colonel Blaxland looked about the palace one last time. “Damn shame we have to give this up to the Krauts,” he said to Fitch.
“Well sir,” said Fitch, “It’s probably better we didn’t make them fight for it. The whole
palace might have been smashed.”
Blaxland nodded. “I suppose there’s some wisdom in that. Things have changed rather suddenly, and it’s most disconcerting. It’s put all my dispositions to rout, but orders are orders. Let’s get moving.”
Arderne marched his men in a good column to find the railway, and they took that road over the lower bridge on the Khir, through the lush palace grounds, and on south. Selby retreated in good order and he was right behind him. MacGregor held his lines as a rear guard until 04:00, then slowly began to fall back before dawn. No one was going to hurry him. He had two Gurkha battalions in his brigade. Blaxland found the tiny hamlet of Al Mahdi too decrepit for his liking, and so he set himself up in the small rail station buildings a few hundred meters north up the line.
26 FEB, 1943
In the pre-dawn hours KG Rosenfeld of the 4th Panzer Division finally took the Royal Palace in the north, up near the ferry and railway bridge. It had been very hard fighting that day, with heavy casualties on both sides. A company of the Kumoan Rifles had been reduced to just two squads. 3rd Company of 2/6 Rajputana had only one squad remaining, another in 1/5 Maharatta Light had four of nine.
The entire 2nd Suffolk Battalion, British Regulars, had to hasten over to the Government Center where it was found that many squads of German Commandos had slipped over the river in rubber rafts that night, infiltrating into the Defense Ministry building, and Mayor’s Offices. The Tommies spent the night hunting them down, killing many, and the rest fled back across the river. Now this relatively fresh battalion was brought up to the beleaguered palace area, and those battered Indian companies took up watch on the river.
As for Westhoven’s 3rd Panzer Division, (Battle Map 6) Hube rested it that night. They were assembled just north of the Kayam Quarter, which was right where Brigadier Kingstone had taken Kingforce. His men were digging in on a stony hill just north of the town, and he had his armored cars out further east, prowling about the scattered brick kilns and watching gaps in the marshes that might be used by enemy vehicles.
Stormtide Rising (Kirov Series Book 29) Page 22