“My men are ready,” said Kinlan. “We’ve been languishing back near the old railhead for months now, and holding your coat, but we can have a decisive impact in a campaign like this. I agree wholeheartedly with Mister Churchill. Now is the time to act.”
“It’s been four months since Crusader,” said O’Connor. “We’ve got in shipments of those American tanks, and better cruisers from the UK. General Kinlan, the leg up you’ve given us concerning tank design has certainly helped. The Germans have also been reinforcing their three Panzer Divisions with new heavy tanks.”
“That’s been your problem,” said Kinlan. “The Germans were only supposed to have had two Panzer Divisions here at this time, the 21st and 15th. That third division, the 10th, was supposed to be in Russia.”
“If we don’t act soon, and destroy Rommel’s armor once and for all,” said O’Connor, “then he’ll use it to check every offensive we tee up. So if we go again, then I’ll want your full support. I realize there is a question of limited ammunition, but if we must spend it, then why not do it here and win through to Tripoli. That would put us in a very good position to coordinate with any operation the Yanks pony up out west. That’s what it will eventually have to come to. We’ll have to push the French out of their African colonies as General Wavell suggests, and then squeeze Rommel from east and west.”
“You have it exactly right,” said Kinlan. “That, in effect, is what happened in the history I know, and we can write that book again, here and now. Perhaps we can do a little better and box Rommel up in Benghazi.”
“That sounds interesting,” said Wavell. “If we do attack, what would be the plan of operations?” his eyes were moving from O’Connor to Kinlan, a weariness on him now that was evident to them both.
“Rommel has been sitting on his Gazala line ever since Crusader,” said O’Connor. “He’s built up Mechili as his major forward supply depot. Any offensive we plan will have to strike up the main coastal road along the Via Balbia. It’s what Monty advocated all along. Once we take Tmimi, and push on to Derna, then Rommel will have to give up Mechili. But that will be work for the infantry, supported by whatever is left of the Matildas. As for our main armored force. I propose we muster the whole of 7th Armored here at Bir Hacheim,” he pointed to the map. “From there we drive for Tengeder—that’s where Rommel has posted the bulk of his panzers. If we take that, then we cut off Mechili from the south, and we can run right down the Trig el-Abd to Agedabia.”
“Agreed,” said Kinlan. “Only this time my brigade should be the tip of the lance. If you lead, it’s likely Rommel will have just enough to stop you, and then, with your force expended, we’ve nothing to make that run to Agedabia. So I propose that my 7th Brigade should lead. We’ll blow right through them—blow them to hell, and then you can run right on through the hole we make and cut the whole Afrika Korps off in Cyrenaica.”
“And how might Rommel react?” asked Wavell.
“He’s cagey now,” said O’Connor. “He hasn’t had the strength to attack, and I think it has been his plan to hold his panzers in reserve, and to try and use them against our infantry. I agree with Brigadier Kinlan. If I lead, then we’ll just have a repeat of Crusader. We need to supercharge this attack right from the outset. Kinlan’s force is our trump card, and now’s the time to play it out.”
“Once I take Tengeder,” said Kinlan, “then Rommel will have no choice other than to take this inside track, retreating from Mechili to Msus, Antelat and onto Agedabia. It will be a race to the gulf of Sirte, and that’s one I think we can win. If we do win through, then Rommel has no choice other than to fall back on Benghazi. If we can bottle him up there, all the better. Otherwise we’ll have to chase him all the way to Tripoli, and beyond. I can tell you he fell all the way back to Tunis before he was finally cornered and destroyed. On that note, it would be my advice that General Montgomery should be recalled from Java.”
“Montgomery?”
“No offense, General O’Connor, but as you’ll be on the southern flank with me, we’ll need a stogy old warhorse to push up Via Balbia. That’s what Monty would advise if he were here. He’s stopped the Japanese at Singapore, and now he’ll just sit there on Java. He’s another asset that should not be wasted at a time like this.”
“I tend to agree,” said Wavell. “We did what Churchill demanded. The Rock of the East, that’s what he called Singapore. Unfortunately, that rock became nothing more than a millstone around our necks. There were a million hungry mouths to feed in Singapore, and we could only supply them by sea. It was all we could do to fend off Japanese air power long enough to stop them from storming the city, so the prospects for that were very dim. I know it was a very difficult decision for Churchill, but he’s finally seen the cold reality of the situation. We were damn lucky to get the 18th Division out, but who could have foreseen this business with Krakatoa? It gave no indication it was about to erupt until the lid came off.”
“That put the Japanese in the stew,” said O’Connor. I heard they lost most of their 2nd Division off the Sunda Strait.”
“Hell of a way to go,” said Wavell. “Yet the fact remains that they retained command of the Java Sea. This means they could land troops anywhere they pleased along that northern coast, and Monty’s plan to try and hold Eastern Java was fatally compromised. We’ve pulled him out, and the 18th Division is being sent to Burma, where it should have gone all along.”
“Very strange,” said Kinlan. “That was never supposed to happen—that damn volcano.”
“Well you were never supposed to happen either, General,” said O’Connor, but we’re grateful you are here. So does Monty go to Burma with the 18th?”
“No, I’ve made the request to have him transferred back,” said Wavell. “He’ll be here by the time we’re ready to go, his feathers ruffled a bit, but undoubtedly glad to be out of the wet heat of Java and back in the good old dry heat here.”
“Out of the frying pan and into the fire,” said Kinlan.
“And most likely keen to get on with the war,” said Wavell. As for Somerville, he’s building a fast carrier task force to buck up any land based fighters we can send, but quite frankly, I don’t think he contemplates any offensive actions with the Eastern Fleet. We’re still completely on the defense in the Pacific. Now that we’re giving up Java, we’ll have Australia to worry about, and that would be very serious if the Japanese push on to Darwin.”
“Have they hit Darwin yet?” asked Kinlan. “The setback at Singapore may have affected their timetable, but it’s on their list, General Wavell.”
“Oh, they’ve hit it once or twice, but there’s been no sign of an impending invasion. That volcano certainly stirred up the pot over there. That said, Australia is a prize we cannot lose. Singapore was just a useless medal we can pin to our chests. The Yanks won’t counterattack along that axis, and we certainly can’t do so this year, if at all. We’ve spit in Tojo’s eye, and given him a good stiff punch in the nose, but now it may be time to bow and make a graceful withdrawal to Australia. Churchill will have the final say on where Monty goes, and I think Brooke is of the same mind as I am on the matter. The Prime Minister has been gnawing on my leg to attack here, and I’m glad you gentlemen believe we can easily get this done. Churchill will want his hero of Singapore to return to Tobruk. That’s the way I’ll paint the picture, and I’m sure he’ll like it even better if we paint Rommel right out, and with a very heavy brush.”
“Good enough,” said O’Connor. “Perhaps there will be room for another hero or two when we push on through to Agedabia.”
“Here, here,” said Wavell. “Now then, we’ll want to mask the presence of Kinlan’s brigade as long as possible. I think that will be work for our Mister Dudley Clarke.”
Clark was a master of deception, and a man with a love of special operations that led him to assist in the founding of the British Commandos who had been fighting so stalwartly on the Canary Islands. He had set up a special command known
as “Force A” that was tasked with the planning and execution of deception tactics. It had covered everything with his sleight of hand and magician’s cape, including the creation of a phony new order of battle that was leaked to deceive the enemy as to real British strength.
“I wish I had half the troops he’s dreamt up,” said O’Connor. “That bogus 10th Armored Division would come in handy.”
“We’ll just have to make do with the real divisions we have in hand,” said Wavell. “But Colonel Clarke says he already has the makings of a good plan. First off, there will be false radio traffic under a fabricated code name that we’ll intend the Germans to intercept. We’ve already planted a bad seed or two, taking unfortunate casualties of those recent German Stuka strikes and setting them out in the desert with a bag of false information on a wrecked motorbike. We’re relatively sure the Germans took the bait.”
“Good enough,” said Kinlan, but my Challenger IIs will be difficult to hide.”
“That is Dudley Clark’s specialty. He’s proposed holding your units back from the front as always, in what looks to be a reserve position. Then he’ll set up a phony forward position that appears to be a motorized infantry unit. We’ll use real trucks there, quite openly, but the night before the attack your boys will switch places with them, and he’ll work up dummy tanks to leave in your old position so the enemy won’t pick up that move at dawn.”
“Splendid,” said Kinlan.
“He’ll do a lot more—double bluff games with the artillery, a phony water pipeline leading to a bogus assembly area, complete with fake water towers, pump houses, and straw men in attendance. We’ll also have units assigned to simulate the movement of a massed armor formation, on the coast road coming up from Mersa Matruh. They’ll think we mean to heavily reinforce that portion of the attack.”
“All well and good,” said Kinlan. “Gentlemen, when do we kick off this attack?
“15 March,” said Wavell. “We’re just waiting for 2nd South African to come up from Alexandria, and for Monty. He has a long way to fly.”
“And what might we call this operation?”
Wavell thought for a moment. “I believe General O’Connor had something there a minute ago. Supercharge. That will do quite nicely.”
Chapter 33
Rommel couldn’t see it just yet, or even hear it, but he could feel it in his bones. A warrior’s senses keened up at the edge of a battle, and strange unconscious things stacked up in his mind, quietly whispering a warning to him while he dealt with the humdrum business of the day. At night, asleep in a tent, set well away from his command vehicle as a precaution against air attack, he thought he could almost sense the faint rumbling of heavy vehicles on the move, the vibrations carried through the sand and shale to find his well schooled ear in the quiet of the desert evening.
Something was afoot. There had been three instances where his daily recon patrols had turned up what looked to be a bounty of new information, which was very rare. They had come by a fallen soldier and his motorbike, right at the edge of a crater in the dry earth, the apparent victim of a bomb or artillery round strike. A nearby brief contained papers and even a map showing what looked like a major plan to strike up the coast at Timimi towards Derna. The name “Montgomery” was boldly written into that sector, which raised an eyebrow, for that General was still thought to be in the Pacific.
Another instance of a slipped radio transmission that went out in the clear seemed to approve petrol and ammunition delivery in a special flying column that was scheduled to be on the road leading up to the front in that sector—a most tempting target for the Luftwaffe. Lastly, there was a good deal of talk in the bars and brothels of Cairo, but the message was too harmonious. That many slips of the tongue could not form such a sweet chorus, he thought, and all these little windfalls also point to the same thing, a big attack on the coast, supported by the Royal Navy. The British were going to try to kick in the front door and storm into Cyrenaica.
He didn’t believe a word of it.
Instead he went to find Hauptmann László Almásy, the Hungarian born desert scout leading his long range desert patrol, the Sonderkommando. “Are your men out on the far southern flank as I ordered?”
“Yes, Herr General. The 300th Oasis Battalion is just east of Wadi Thiran watching that road.”
“Good, because I believe they are about to have visitors. It may take you all day, but get hold of a good radio and get down there. I think the British are looking to try and turn our flank again. There are three tracks leading west in that area, one through the wadi itself, and two more north of the wadi itself. I think they will use them, and they all lead to one place.”
“The lodgments of our 15th Panzer Division,” said Almásy.
“I see you have already been snooping around. Well, stop there on your way and tell Crüwell I want to see him at this hill, number 535, an hour before sunset, but be sure you tell him personally, not via radio.”
“Of course. Do you think this will be a feint or probe? It is very far south.”
Rommel pursed his lips. “I think you may soon find more of those odd vehicles you first discovered south of Bir el Khamsa. I’m relying on you, Hauptmann. If you do see evidence of those vehicles, then contact me at once. Use the code word Löwenbräu, the Lion’s brew. Understand?”
“I will see to it at once.” Almásy saluted stiffly, adjusted his eye goggles, and was on his motorcycle heading south in no time. That afternoon, as Rommel had directed, he was up on hill 535, a high rocky crag that thrust out from the edge of a shallow escarpment. It overlooked a tumble of broken stone and dry wadis, terrain that was mostly impassable for vehicles, and even tortuous work for infantry. Beyond that ground, to the northwest, was the encampment for Ravenstein’s 21st Panzer Division, well behind the front line manned by the 90th Light Division. Crüwell’s 15th held the southern flank, reinforced by troops freshly returned from Russia, the Hermann Goering Division, though only a single brigade had arrived. The last of the three panzer divisions, the 10th under Fischer, was due north of Ravenstein’s positions, astride the Trig el Abd leading to Tobruk.
“There’s a battle coming,” said Rommel. “I can smell it. So we gather here to make certain there is no freelancing this time. The enemy has apparently gone to great lengths to convince me he is going to put his main effort up the coast road in a drive to Derna. They have even gone so far as to recall Montgomery from the Pacific. We learned that from Berlin at noon today. Well, I don’t buy it. Instead I think they will make their main effort well south, possibly even as far south as your positions, General Crüwell.”
“There is nothing down there but empty desert,” said Crüwell. “Believe me, I’ve been standing watch over it for weeks.”
“That desert is about to get very busy,” said Rommel. “ I sent the Hungarian with 300th Oasis Battalion out to have a look. In the meantime, have a look at this map. These three tracks lead right to your lodgment with 15th Panzer Division. I believe they mean to hit us there, and attempt to cut off the entire Afrika Korps.”
That would leave their attacking force dangerously exposed,” said Crüwell. “We could simply move the other two panzer divisions through 90th Light and counterattack. Tit for tat, then they will be the ones cut off.”
“Not if my suspicions are correct.”
“Your suspicions? What was it this time, tea leaves, a twitch in your left eye?”
“Don’t be flippant, Herr General. I have been out here long enough to earn my keep. No. The last time they hit us in the center, and led with their 7th Armored Division. We stopped them.”
“Yes, thanks to my timely counterattack.”
“Which cost us months on the defense while I had to rebuild all three mobile divisions,” said Rommel. “So let me assume our enemy learns from his mishaps, just as I hope you do. If they lead with their older armor as before, we’ll stop them again. This time I think they will do the opposite. They will hit us with the best tanks they
have, the same monsters we faced at Bir El Khamsa, and again when your fabled counterattack was nearly smashed south of Tobruk. Thank God I got there in time to get the men out, and the enemy was too unprepared to pursue us. So we have sat on our Gazala line for months, slowly receiving our new tanks from Germany. The Big Cats now flesh out all three of our panzer divisions, and we have the Pz-IVF2 as a good medium tank, and even a few of the new Panthers. That is a rare privilege. Ask anyone back in 2nd Panzer Army about it in Russia and they will wish they had such tanks. But, as good as they are, the enemy has something even better. I think we will see those heavy tanks deployed in force this time.”
“Then what do you intend to do?”
“At the first sign of trouble, Ravenstein will move by this track here, past the old fort and Hill 522. That maneuver covers the rear of our main infantry front, which they will most likely assault with their own infantry divisions.” He looked at Crüwell now. “Your job is to delay. Get your recon and pioneer battalions well forward, and dig in. Keep the armor and Panzergrenadiers back, and be prepared to move quickly on my orders. And general—follow those orders to the letter, in spite of any opinion you might have to the contrary. I will want you to execute a quick withdrawal maneuver, and then regroup for a counterattack here.” Rommel pointed at his map.
“Why not deploy the whole division on the line to stop this attack?”
“Because you won’t stop it,” said Rommel. “We couldn’t stop them at Bir el Khamsa, nor in the attack they made south of Tobruk. Steiner couldn’t stop them in Syria either, and he had two divisions on the line. So they will get through. The only question is at what cost to us? If I read my tea leaves correctly, the purpose of this attack will be to go all the way.”
“All the way?”
“To the Gulf of Sirte. Yes. If they do stack up east of Wadi Thiran as I suspect, then they will push hard for Agedabia. We cannot allow them to occupy that position in force. It would leave the entire army bottled up in Cyrenaica, with Benghazi our only supply source.”
Turning Point (Kirov Series Book 22) Page 29