Lions at Dawn (Kirov Series Book 28)

by John Schettler

  “It seems so,” said Freddie. “But why in the world would they give up such a well prepared position like that? It doesn’t make any sense. They can’t be throwing in the towel before we’ve even had the match.”

  “I see more in this than meets the eye,” said Montgomery. “It’s no tactical withdrawal. RAF is seeing columns heading east to Tunisia, but it’s mostly the infantry.”

  “Interesting,” said Freddie, thinking. “Yet these are some of their best troops here, the parachute units that took Malta and Grand Canaria from us.”

  “Good riddance,” said Montgomery, but de Guingand put that thought in his pocket, and he would be later responsible for whispering in the right ear and suggesting that the Army have a look at the garrison strength on Crete. A good chess player, he was given to plotting out his moves well ahead in his mind, thinking out any contingency. When he learned the Paras were not simply redeploying, but were mustering at Tunis and Bizerte, he raised the matter with Sir Alan Brooke. It was very timely advice.

  “Patton will be happy,” said Monty. “I’m told the Germans pulled those mountain troops off the ridges to either side of Batna. Now he’ll try to bluster his way through and get to Tebessa. I want to be at Bone when he does that. Understand?”

  “Of course,” said Freddie, thinking again about those mountain troops, light infantry, but very tough in rugged country.

  Further south, the American 9th Infantry Division advanced cautiously through the town of Setif, taking the airfield and finding it had been hastily abandoned, with empty fuel barrels and hoses strewn about the field, which had also been subjected to demolition. There were three wide craters at intervals along the landing strip, no more than a few hour’s work for bull dozers, but enough to prevent any landing by Allied planes there in the short run. The first real resistance would be met at Saint Arnaud, astride the main rail from Algiers to Tunis. There, two battalions of Panzergrenadiers from the Hermann Goring Division had set up a hasty blocking position.

  Below the 9th, the 3rd Infantry was pushing for Merouana, a town near Batna in the high country that was needed to flank the main objective, expecting a hard fight there, but pleasantly surprised to be able to take the place with no resistance on the first day. Batna, however, would not be given up by von Arnim without a fight. There he positioned three small Kampfgruppes, KG Luder’s mechanized Panzergrenadiers, a battalion of motorized infantry under Hudel, and Hauptmann Hansen’s small tank battalion, with a number of Pz IVF-2s and Marder IIIs.

  ‘Terrible Terry Allen’ sent his 26th Regiment to flank Batna in the highland country near Qued El Ma, then he pushed the 18th Regiment right up the rail line to Batna, through the pass where he expected heavy fighting. It was going to be infantry work in those mountain passes, with the armor coming along behind to offer fire support. There the 18th Regiment met and drove back KG Luder, but Hudel’s tanks came up to halt the attack at dusk, and that night the Germans would pull out to move to their next delaying position further east. The Hermann Goring Division would fight briefly, then quickly pull out to take up its primary defensive position just west of Constantine.

  Meanwhile, the 15th Infantry Division was hastening to Bizerte and Tunis by sea. They would land on the 6th of January, moving quickly by trucks that had been prepositioned by Kesselring. All in all, the administrative and logistical skill of both Kesselring and von Arnim was clearly demonstrated, after years of practical experience planning such moves. It was a masterpiece of maneuver, like that of a skilled boxer dancing about the ring, keeping his heavier opponent at bay with the occasional jab, but mostly the strength and surety of his legs.

  It is always more difficult for the advancing force when moving into territory that was formerly held by the enemy. Kesselring could move his units east with little caution, save for the occasional attack by Allied planes. Monty and Patton had to advance not knowing whether the next house or farm would be hiding a Pak 50 AT gun, always wary of mines, and other small ambushes staged by detachments the Germans would leave behind. Suspected enemy positions had to be scouted, patrols leading the way as the Allied columns probed forward.

  By January 6th, the 9th Infantry would reach the airfield at Telergma, and Terry Allen’s 1st Infantry took Batna. That was the place where Patton wanted to set up his first new forward depot, and he gave orders to get the supply columns moving immediately. 1st and 2nd Armored followed the infantry until the highland country was cleared and the ground began to descend into the lowlands beyond. Ahead there were places with famous names—Kasserine, El Guettar, Faid…. Patton was thinking about them even as Freddie de Guingand was looking ahead in his own mind to consider what the Germans were up to.

  As for Patton, the game was football, and he was the halfback, scanning the defensive line to see what he would soon be up against when he got the ball. One thing he inherently knew about war was that ‘victory required payment in advance,’ with the determination of his iron will, the sweat of constant effort, and the blood and guts of the men he commanded in battle.

  It was time for some ‘broken field running.’

  Chapter 8

  “We’ve got Batna, Brad. Now’s the time to rattle Harmon and Truscott and get that armor moving up. I want the two divisions side by side when I go for Tebessa.”

  “Tebessa? You’re supposed to take Constantine first George.”

  “That’s work for infantry,” Patton waved his hand dismissively. He was an old cavalryman at heart, and he loved those armored divisions, particularly the 2nd, which he had commanded from late 1940 in the States, until January of 1942.

  “Look here, Brad. There’s a few rats in the cellars at Batna, but once I clear them out, I want to push right up to Ain Beida. There’s an airfield there we can use, and the pass just south of that town lets me dash right on through towards Tebessa.”

  “But Montgomery is expecting you to go for Gulema in a left hook. You know how difficult the ground is on the coast.”

  “If he wants me to do that, then he ought to send a division up to get after Constantine himself. Then I can swing 3rd and 9th Infantry right around that southern flank, and they can take Gulema for him. Meanwhile, I’ve got business at Tebessa.”

  “Have you cleared that with Ike?”

  “Well hell… If I do that he’ll just start talking logistics again. Look, the Germans have pulled out, and we’ve got them on the run. Now’s the time to gain some good ground. I can be in Tunisia in ten days!”

  General Bradley scratched his head. “Eisenhower said we’d talk about Tebessa after we had Constantine. If you split your force now, and send both armored divisions down there…”

  “Now don’t get all wishy washy on me Brad. I know you’re spying for Eisenhower, but goddammit, you’re also my Deputy Commander. We’ve been sitting there waiting for Montgomery to stockpile his tea leaves for well over a month. Now that we’re finally moving again, that’s exactly what we should do. In this war, you move fast, hit hard, and never look back. That’s what the Germans showed the Brits in France, and I intend to show them they aren’t the only ones out there with a crazy old horse cavalryman in the saddle.”

  “You looking to add another star soon George?”

  “Forget about that. It’s the Huns I’m after. When things shake loose like this, you’ve got to seize the day.” Patton clenched his gloved fist to make his point. “I intend to drive hard and fast here.”

  “Well don’t get yourself killed. I’ve seen how you ride about in that staff car. And you might want to leave off the flags and siren so the Stukas won’t get after you again.”

  Patton smiled. “Did I ever tell you about the uniform I designed?”

  “Too many times,” said Bradley, and the two men laughed it off.

  “Alright George, I won’t break the news on this just yet, but you’ll have to do this right. If you turn southeast, you better be able to get where you’re going. Remember what Ike said about the mess we created here with the logistics.
You could get hung out there and find yourself out of supply.”

  “I’ll find the roads, Brad. Then you line the trucks up in my wake. Just follow my tracks and smoke.” He gave Bradley that patented full mouthed grin. “One more thing,” he continued. “I’ll want Terry Allen’s outfit with me. We’ll need some good infantry, and that will flesh out that Corps. Now… why don’t you get on the phone and see about Monty sending a division for Constantine.”

  “What? He thinks you’ve assigned that to the 9th Infantry.”

  “Well tell him the plan has changed. Say we’ll fix the German defense on one side so he can make a direct attack. Then I can swing round and go for Guelema. He’ll like that.”

  “I’m sure he will.”

  * * *

  Logistics.

  Interdiction.

  As far as Eisenhower was now concerned, that was the game he was playing, even if Patton thought he was playing football. The Allied group of forces was demonstrating one key area of growing superiority as this campaign progressed—they were slowly tearing the Luftwaffe to shreds. Goring’s force had been strained by Operation Condor, where many transports were lost and the incessant duels with the RAF over the islands had taken a toll. When the makeshift fields had been hastily abandoned, any plane that could not fly had to be left behind. A retreating army loses a percentage of its men and materiel with each day that it withdraws. The genius of Operation Torch, was that by taking Casablanca, it removed the Germans primary logistical support base for the Condor Operation, and the tremendous success of the Operations in Spain returned Gibraltar soon after.

  Now, one thing the Allies were doing with far more precision and organization was air operations. The directive that the emphasis was to be given to air superiority and interdiction was paying good dividends. The German position in North Africa now relied on three ports—Tripoli, Tunis and Bizerte, and now each one would receive daily visits from Allied bombers escorted by P-38s, and a new plane that was just beginning to arrive in theater to replace the aging Kittyhawks and Tomahawks—the P-51 Mustang.

  The U.S. 47th Fighter Group had been flying the old P-39 Aircobras, and now they would trade those obsolete planes in for shiny new Mustangs and take to the skies with renewed confidence. In the old history, the Allies interdiction effort against those three ports sent over 620 tanks bound for North Africa to the bottom of the Med, along with more than 1700 other vehicles, and just over 1400 pieces of artillery, including flak guns. That was enough armor to equip three full strength panzer divisions, all lost at sea on perhaps the shortest supply run imaginable.

  If the Germans had not abandoned the Canary Islands when they did, this growing preponderance of force in the air would have strangled that position by now, stranding those elite air mobile divisions and slowly starving them out. Kesselring had the mind to see that immediately, and conducted a brilliant withdrawal into Algeria, where he had been basically fighting a delaying operation against the cumbersome Allied advance on the ground.

  Generals talk divisions, but wars are won by good logistics, and the real battle that would decide this campaign was now taking place in the skies above the battlefield. There, the Luftwaffe was continuing to sustain daily losses that could simply not be replaced. Before May of 1943, when the Allies finally drove them from Tunisia in the old history, the Luftwaffe lost just under 2,500 aircraft, a staggering total that amounted to nearly 40% of their total strength on all fronts. That was going to matter a very great deal in the months ahead in 1943, and it was happening again now, as the Allied pilots rose daily to wrestle air superiority from their enemy so those bombers could get at the ports and vital sea lanes to North Africa.

  Now Hitler had compounded the problem Goring was facing in any number of ways. First off, he was diverting too many resources into prototype weapons, long range bomber designs, and the massive new airship fleet he was building. The tried and true Me-109s were still being built, but there were not enough of them, and the deadly Stuka was slowly being neutralized wherever the Allies gained local air superiority.

  Secondly, Hitler was now opening up a massive new front again in Syria and Iraq with Operation Phoenix, and he was resurrecting the plans for Operation Merkur against Crete, a battle that would rely heavily on the Luftwaffe in every respect. In the short run, with the snows and bad weather in Russia grounding most everything in the dead of winter. Goring transferred one wing after another to the west to service the needs of these operations, but there never seemed to be enough planes to go around.

  Seeing the problem glaringly for the first time, the Reichsmarschall suggested a range of expedient measures, including better flak defenses for the harbors, a heavy anti-submarine screen laid in the Sicilian Narrows, the use of new German radar to warn of enemy air attacks. Finally, he suggested Tunis should be the main receiving port, and more Siebel ferries could be used along the coast to move supplies to Tripoli. He also wanted better organization of the port service crews, and faster and smaller convoys moving by night. Yet many of the dock workers found they were spending as much time fighting fires on the quays, warehouses, and piers than loading or unloading ships. In frustration, Goring then suggested Italian subs be used to move ammunition, certain they could not be bombed.

  The fact that this discussion was even held was mute testimony to the increasing ineffectiveness of the Luftwaffe—but nothing was said to the Reichsmarschall about that. In the summer it had been the heat, dust, and flies that plagued the troops most. Now it was the cold, particularly at night, then the mud by day, and another pestilence that seemed to be everywhere—the Arabs.

  The local tribes had become expert scavengers, raiding corpses of the fallen, encampments, depot sites, or anyplace that did not have a round-the-clock guard. They would steal everything, even the tarp screens put up to offer a little privacy around the latrine trenches.

  When it rained, tanks would trundle along the roads, digging deeper and deeper channels in the ground that would turn the road to a muddy morass. Off road movement was equally treacherous, and at one point, an American patrol of three Stuart tanks saw the lead tank drive right into a muddy field and begin to sink. To their amazement, the tank had sunk all the way to the edge of the turret in ten minutes time as the crews scrambled out.

  The Germans had made friends with mud in Russia like this, and they knew how and when to move, and how to hunker down in the rain after choosing their defensive positions. This situation was the one element that would serve to frustrate Patton’s hankering for a rapid advance.

  * * *

  With his opening moves largely unchallenged, Monty decided it was time to push on up the coast. He would soon find that he had to contend with more than the Germans. January rains can be quite heavy in Algeria and Tunisia, particularly on the coast.

  With Patton determined to flank Constantine to the south and east, Monty assigned his dogged 43rd Wessex Division to take the place, attacking through Ain Kerma to the northwest. It was an old Roman town, perched high in the mountains, with sheer cliff walls of stone bridged by steel spans in places, and low stone bridges over steep defiles and gullies. Known as ‘The City of Bridges’, if the Germans decided to destroy them, they could make the place largely impassible to vehicle traffic. It had been conquered by the Phoenicians, Romans, Vandals, Arabs and Turks over the long centuries. Then the French came, followed by the Germans, and now the British.

  The sand colored building seemed to rise from the tops of the cliffs, as if carved out of the mountains and then smoothed and sanded for human habitation. The place had been taken with little fighting in the old history, but now the Germans had moved in their 15th Infantry Division, a veteran unit that had fought in Poland, France and Russia. They had deployed in an arc about ten kilometers outside the city, blocking all the major roads through the rugged mountains.

  The 43rd was advancing on Highway 2 from the west, and also coming up on Route 27 from the coast. Both roads ran along the north and south banks of a
river, and there were really no suitable roads moving due east from that point to El Kantour. Everything ran up through Constantine, and Monty’s supplies would have to do so as well, so the place had to be taken.

  5th Wiltshire Battalion was up early that cold morning, climbing out of their ‘funk holes’ in the damp earth and hoping there would be no more rain. They huddled about their camp fires while they got the char brewed up, a mix of tea and milk. It was bully beef as usual for breakfast, but today they got biscuits and jam as well.

  “We’re moving out in an hour,” said Lieutenant-Colonel Roberts to Sergeant Knowles as he finish up a cold shave. One always had to meet the enemy looking like a proper gentleman. “No lying doggo today, Sergeant. We’ll be on the road all morning up to Constantine.”

  “Very good sir. Is our lot in the van again today?”

  “Of course, the fighting 5th. And I’ll want the men sharp this morning. These mountain roads can be treacherous—a perfect place for an ambush or two. I’ll want patrols out and flankers to look for Jerry as soon as we get moving.”

  They would see the first 20 kilometers under foot easily enough, with no sign of the enemy. Then they reached the small village of Ebm Ziad, and the infantry began to move in, squad by squad, the men silent and cautious, expecting a fight. The Germans had abandoned that town, but found better positions in the hills just beyond it. 5th Wiltshire came right up on them, and the Lieutenant ordered an immediate attack.