Chapter 12
The crisis precipitated by Operation Hammer was now going to force a most uncomfortable decision upon the German defenders in Tunisia. Kesselring called a meeting with von Arnim and Nehring to discuss the situation, knowing the inevitable before he even opened his mouth. The other two men knew it as well.
“We simply cannot defend this way,” said Nehring, the man on the spot now that it was his forces giving up ground in the south. “I’ve been able to establish a new line, but the panzer divisions are holding fronts over 30 kilometers each. I would want them holding half that—in fact, I would prefer they weren’t on the line at all, held in reserve to counterpunch.”
“We both know that isn’t possible here,” said Kesselring. “We have only four infantry divisions worth the name north of the Mareth Position. Two hold the north coast, and two hold the position between Souk Ahras and Bou Aziz. Luckily, that has been the quiet sector.”
“Yes,” said Nehring. “But the Americans are throwing all their armor on this one segment of the line after taking Sbeitla. That airborne drop was quite a gamble, but they broke through the Western Dorsal passes to link up. Now they want the pass at Faid.”
“Can you hold them?” Kesselring eyed the map.
“For a time, but it is slowly wearing out these mobile divisions Rommel was kind enough to leave me. Meanwhile, O’Connor is pounding away down south at Mareth. How long will that position hold?”
“It should be able to hold indefinitely,” said Kesselring. “That’s where all the rest of our infantry is, two German and four Italian divisions. The question is, should we leave them there? We have already had to pull out the Littorio Armored Division to help cover Ghafsa, and the Italians have sent some of their San Marco Marines west as well.”
“Ghafsa?” said Nehring. “Why in God’s name do we need that? It made sense to hold it for Sturmflut , but no longer.”
“Ghafsa covers Highway 15 to Sfax,” said Kesselring. “And that port receives Siebel ferry boats out of Tunis to help supply the Mareth line position.”
Nehring shook his head. “I do not wish to sound like a defeatist, as some have already accused me of this back home, but we don’t need Mareth either. If I had my way, I would draw the line right here.” He fingered the northernmost point of Patton’s operation, and moved it due west to the coast—right at the port of Sousse.
Kesselring nodded. “I came to that conclusion three days ago. I just wanted to see if either of you would suggest the same thing. Von Arnim?”
“Nehring is correct,” he said. “His entire position is holding a front simply to deny the enemy terrain—all of southern Tunisia. If we gave that up, and moved to the line he suggests, then we shorten our entire defensive front here into a much tighter bridgehead, and one we actually have a chance at holding.”
Kesselring smiled. “I hope you both realize that I was recently directed to begin planning another spring offensive for April.”
Nehring actually laughed this time. “Out of the question,” he said. “At least as long as we are trying to hold our present positions. If we were to pull out to the line I described, then we could also get the Panzer divisions off the line and ready for such an offensive. As it stands, this is impossible.”
“Now we come to the real problem with all of this thinking,” said Kesselring, and he summed it up in one word. “Hitler.”
Von Arnim nodded agreement. “He just sent the 16th Panzer Division to Rommel so he can muddle about with it in Syria,” he said with obvious bitterness. And I can tell you that he will not permit the withdrawal Nehring suggests.”
“But what if the three of us all sign on to this demand?” Nehring pressed his point. “I’ll tell you right now—if this Patton breaks through up near Faid, then that withdrawal will become a necessity. Quite frankly, if we don’t move as I suggest, they will cut us right in half. I’ll end up having to split my panzers into two groups, with the15th and 7th trying to screen off Sfax and points south, and the 21st trying to hold that line I suggested. The problem will then be the fact that we will lose overland road and rail connections to the southern pocket. Everything will have to go by sea into Sfax and Gabes. It will be a disaster.”
“Agreed,” said Kesselring. “So how can we do what we all know we must, and without losing our heads in the process? You saw what happened to von Funck.”
They passed a moment of silence before von Arnim finally spoke. “The Italians,” he said quietly, a conspiratorial tone in his voice. “Nehring has put his finger on the right spot. We must prevent an enemy breakthrough to the coast through Faid Pass. Hitler chooses to feed Rommel in Syria. So be it. We need infantry, and we have two good divisions sitting on the Mareth line. So I see no alternative other than to recall them to stop this new American offensive.”
“But the Italians won’t be able to hold O’Connor,” said Kesselring.
“Precisely.” Von Arnim just looked at them, saying nothing more, and they both knew what he meant. The Italians would not hold. They would be forced back, and the Germans would have their scapegoat. All they had to do was pull the two German infantry divisions from Mareth, and the rest would be inevitable. The Allies would eventually force the Italians back, and they would have no recourse other than to reach the line Nehring suggested.
“I can see the look on the face of General Meese right now when I tell him I must issue orders for the 90th and 164th to move north.”
“We have coddled them for years,” said von Arnim. “They were all but beaten by O’Connor in Libya until we sent Rommel over. Now they’ve been moaning and groaning about the loss of Libya, so we promised them Tunisia. Well—let them hold it. Where are the divisions Mussolini promised us? He sent us half the Centauro Armored Division, a parachute outfit and a few battalions of Marines.”
“The Giovani Fascisti has just been moved out of reserve to Sfax,” said Kesselring, “but I don’t think we’ll see them shipping over any more armor, for what it’s worth.”
“Then tell General Meese to send that division to Mareth,” said Nehring. We must get another German infantry division up here, and right now. “I don’t intend to leave 15th Panzer Division where it is now either. I need it to stop the main enemy offensive. They are just screening it off with infantry, so I want to move it north. After that, let the chips fall as they may.”
“You won’t have von Funck to blame this time,” said Kesselring.
“To hell with that,” said Nehring. “If I don’t move it, Patton will break through somewhere along this 100-kilometer front and then we’ll be to blame instead of the Italians, because that will force us to give up all of southern Tunisia. I agree with von Arnim. We should pull our troops out of Mareth, and let the Italians hold. If nothing else, they can at least fight a delaying action there. They could fall back to Gabes, hold there a while, and then move north. But they should not try to hold Ghasfa any longer, it’s out there on a limb, and if they do get more than a French division pressing them, it will fall in a few days anyway.”
So that was to be the German plan, a nice little conspiracy to pull their infantry from Mareth and then blame the loss of Southern Tunisia on the Italians. Hitler could rant all he wanted, but he would have only that one complaint to put against Kesselring—why did he withdraw German troops from Mareth? Smiling Al already had his answer—because it was a military necessity in order to prevent the entire position from being cut in two. If that were to happen, and two bridgeheads formed, he wanted no German troops trapped in the south.
* * *
After linking up with the 82nd airborne at Sbeitla, Patton had pushed his combat commands hard. The 82nd had now pushed as far as Kern’s Cross, supported by companies of Tank Destroyers. North of that position, all of Ward’s 1st Armored Division was attacking up the rail line and Highway 3 towards Fondouk. In fact, the entire American line now extended parallel to that highway, just a few kilometers west. Patton already had elements of the 157th RCT from 45th Inf
antry seven klicks from Fondouk, but that force had run into German Tiger tanks to block their advance. Kesselring had been moving the few Schwere companies he had about like war elephants, and two had been sent to prevent the fall of Fondouk.
From there all the way south to Ward’s division, Patton was keeping up relentless pressure. Just north of Ward he had Task Force Abrams at El Tarig, and then came Harmon’s entire 2nd Armored division. Virtually every tank the Americans had in theater was involved, at least 600 Shermans, another 150 M5s and scores of Tank Destroyers, the new American M-10. It was like water behind a dam, and slowly, he was wearing down the German defense.
To make matters worse, the other two regiments of the US 45 Division had pushed up Highway 4 from Bou Aziz and taken the mountain town of Maktar. That had been the redoubt held by KG Huder, along with an independent infantry battalion, but they simply could not hold against two full regiments. This left a massive gap in the German line between Maktar and Fondouk, a distance of some 60 kilometers, and it was now screened by only three battalions.
The Germans were in desperate need of infantry.
The 164th Light had been relieved on the Mareth line by the Italian 80th La Spezia Airmobile Division, and it was the first to board the trains just north of Gabes. It would hasten north through Sfax, then turn northwest on the rail line running parallel to Highway 13, bound for Faid Pass. The armor was defending the lowland, but infantry was needed to hold the thin ridge that jutted north from Faid like a stony sword. The stronger 90th Light would be right behind it, but this would still leave nothing for that gap between Maktar and Fondouk.
At his wits end, Kesselring gave orders for the 20th and 24th Marsch Battalions to move from their positions on the northern coast. He would attempt to throw together a Kampfgruppe, ordering the Tigers on the line with the 337th Infantry to move to Maktar, and then bringing up that infantry in support. There was no place on the front that was not under some pressure, and in need of reserves that simply were not there. Nehring is correct, he knew. We should get everything back into one bridgehead in the north. Then I can call it Festung Tunis. Hitler will like that.
The Axis forces had now created two armies. Kesselring commanded 5th Panzer Army in the north, and Meese had the 1st Italian Army in the south. As the Germans predicted, the Italians had no plans to try and hold Ghafsa without direct German support. They immediately began pulling back, with one group passing through the defile at El Guettar, and another screening the secondary roads to the north of the mountain ridges in that region. The rail line ran east to Maknassi above this terrain, and the Superga Mountain Division was holding in that sector.
Without those two German infantry Divisions, the line at Mareth came under increasing pressure. O’Connor saw the German troops pull out, and then quickly ordered up the 4th Indian to back up the units he already had forward on the line. Now he reasoned that he could mass 23rd Armored Brigade and simply break through, and he was correct. Trento Motorized Division had already abandoned its positions on the high country to the west and it was motoring north, ostensibly to support the Italian positions there. The remaining three Italian divisions would not hold long. Which would soon lead to a general withdrawal towards Gabes.
In Patton’s sector, 82nd Airborne was on the road from Kern’s Cross, coming right for that town when they encountered a kampfgruppe from 15th Panzer near Lessouda. Both sides quickly started an artillery duel while Ridgeway sent out patrols to try and gauge the strength of the defense. It was found to be a full battalion of Panzergrenadiers, backed by tanks, a pioneer company, and artillery in Faid Pass. Behind it, on the first trains to arrive from Mareth, the 164th Light infantry had finally arrived. US aerial recon saw them along Highway 13, and photographed many more troops and vehicles behind the long north to south ridge line that connected Faid in the south with Sidi Faid in the north. This barrier stretched for some 30 kilometers, the last bulwark of defense before the Allies would reach the coastal plain.
The Germans had finally concentrated. Those troops were the bulk of von Bismarck’s 21st Panzer Division, with von Manteuffel’s 7th Panzer to their north holding around Sidi Faid. Patton came riding up the road along Highway 3 and came upon Task Force Abrams at El Tarig a little over 15 kilometers behind the front lines.
“Abe, what’s your situation?”
“There’s no room on the line,” said Abrams. “So Harmon told me to wait here in reserve.”
“No room?”
“Yes sir. They’ve got both 1st and 2nd Armored Divisions side by side, and things are packed in tighter than sardines in a tin. I’ve got to radio Harmon just to get permission to move east on this road.”
Patton nodded. Harmon knew what he was doing, and just looking around, he could already see the great mass of service vehicles, munitions and fuel trucks, artillery carriers and other vehicles cluttering up this rear area. But there was Abrams, as good a cavalry officer with the armor and they came, and he was just sitting. In fact, the advance thus far had been so restricted that his troops had fought only one brief engagement. He looked at his map.
“Abe,” he said. “I may have another job for you. Are your boys fueled up and ready to roll?”
“Yes sir, we’ve just been sitting here.”
“Alright, here’s what I want you to do. Middleton has two RCTs of the 45th up here, and he just took Maktar. There’s a big hole in the German lines up that way, but now the Germans are trying to plug it with some of their heavy armor—Tigers. Middleton asked me for tank support this morning, and you’ve got the job. So I want you to move back the way you came through Ket el Amar to Sibiba, and then take Route 71 north through Bou Aziz. That’s where you hang a right on Highway 4 to Maktar. Got that?”
“Yes sir. We can move right away.”
“Outstanding. I’ll square things with Harmon. You just get your tanks rolling and when you get there, give the bastards hell.”
Abrams saluted, and he was on his way.
The entire battle was becoming fluid in many places now, yet the main effort of Patton’s attack was encountering increasing difficulties. The Germans were now concentrating their three Panzer Divisions on defense near Faid, and that pass would not be taken easily. To make matters worse, the rains were bringing more misery and mud.
Patton’s order to Abrams was going to heavily reinforce the effort along Highway 4, into the weakest sector of the German position. But Abrams learned that if he moved east, along a road skirting the flanks of Djebel Kessera, that he could then push into the Ousseltia Valley, towards the Karachoum Gap and eventually Highway 3. It was a game changer that would compel the Germans to abandon their defense at Faid Pass and move rapidly north.
It would also mean that most of Southern Tunisia would simply have to be abandoned, and the Italians clearly perceived their peril, making rapid withdrawals from Gabes behind a thin rearguard. Germany had promised them Tunisia to compensate for the loss of Libya, then summarily gave them all of Southern Tunisia, but they could not hold it alone.
These developments saw the gravity of the battle shifting north. Hitler would learn of the withdrawal to Gabes, the loss of Ghafsa, the battle shifting to Faid Pass, and he was predictably angered by the situation. Yet von Arnim’s ploy would work. Kesselring would simply send a message indicating command in the south had passed to the Italian 1st Army, and that it was the Italians who ordered the withdrawals. His forces were now concentrating to secure the main bridgehead in the north, and little by little, the Allies were creeping ever closer to their old historical rendezvous with the Germans at Tunis in May of 1943.
Part V
Eisenfall
“Strike! While the Iron is hot!”
—Blacksmith Proverb
First attributed to Richard Edwards, 1566
Chapter 13
Rommel stared at the map. Here I am again, he thought—another desert, another battle. Here I sit, another 550 miles from Cairo, which is the same distance I would have had to tr
avel from my Gazala line positions southeast of Tobruk. When I began that retreat, I never thought I would ever get this close to the Nile River again. What a strange and hard circle Fate has circumscribed for me. How poignant to be here again, and with this second chance after the bitter disappointments of Tunisia and Operation Sturmflut . So now I am to strike another blow at the British with Operation Eisenfall , Ironfall, and with a force about the same size as my old Panzerarmee Afrika, only with much more infantry.
I had so little time in Germany with Lucie and my family. A month ago, I was sitting in my Mammut command vehicle, listening to the rain on the roof, with our guns being the thunder. Seeing Germany again, and my dear Lucie, was good for my soul. Yet even there, all I could think of as I tried to take my rest were the men I left behind; the looks on their faces when I boarded that plane to depart. Something tells me I will see them again one day. My old divisions have a way of finding me, following me in this war. God knows we cannot stay there in Tunisia for very much longer.
I am told Hitler sacked von Funck! That was inevitable. He laid low and minded his business, but it seems he took the reins in this new American offensive, and neither Nehring nor Hitler liked it. Now Manteuffel goes to the Ghost Division, a very capable officer. Who knows, perhaps one or two of those divisions will fight for me again…. Assuming they can be safely evacuated from Tunisia.
And now, what of my place here? Another desert, and I am told that this one is as desolate and arid as Libya. So what do I have in front of me now? The British have dug in on a line from Tartus on the coast, then south of Homs and on to the highlands near Palmyra, and their flank is hanging in the air. There is nothing off their right flank but the empty desolation of the Syrian Desert. They say the Bedu roam that wasteland, looking for any forage or scrub they can find, wandering like spirit nomads, ghosts in the night. Well, I have seen desert. There I was, getting fat and lazy in Tunisia. That place was so well watered that we never had to haul in water with the truck columns.
Ironfall (Kirov Series Book 30) Page 11