Second World War, The

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Second World War, The Page 27

by Corrigan, Gordon


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  Operation Crusader ended on 16 December 1941. In that the British were left in possession of the field, that the siege of Tobruk had been lifted and that Panzer Group Africa had withdrawn west of Benghazi, it might be – and was – trumpeted as a British victory, but hardly the devastating and decisive one that Churchill had wanted. Despite the code-breakers in Bletchley Park keeping Auchinleck, Cunningham and Ritchie reasonably well informed of what the Germans and Italians were saying to each other by radio, the British, even when attacking, were nearly always on the back foot, reacting to what Rommel did rather than unbalancing him. When battle was joined, usually on ground of the Axis’ choosing, the British had still not mastered the techniques of all-arms cooperation and neither of the two corps was a balanced force. German anti-tank guns were able to knock out British tanks before the latter got within range, and far too often the British armour outran their artillery and attacked without any infantry support. Read armoured knight for tank and archer for anti-tank gunner and the lessons of Crécy, Poitiers and Agincourt were repeated over and over again, but this time the British were the mounted knights. When Panzer Group Africa did withdraw in order to fall back on its logistic supply line, it did so at a time that suited it and the British pursuit was too cautious and too slow. The British had lost 2,900 dead, or 2.5 per cent of their total, and the Axis 2,300, or 1.9 per cent. As the attacker, the British would be expected to have more casualties, although when wounded, missing and prisoners are added up, the butcher’s bill was slightly in favour of the British. That only a small number of the Eighth Army dead were actually British was an embarrassment for some, but as it was in the infantry where men, rather than vehicles, got killed and as the majority of the armour was British but most of the infantry was from the Empire, this was to be expected.

  Far more worrying was the effect on the Eighth Army’s morale. The war in the Western Desert is often held up to have been great fun, conducted in a gentlemanly way and the one to be in if you had to be in a war at all. In fact, at this stage of the war at least, life in North Africa was very far from comfortable. It was stiflingly hot during the day, and not far above freezing at night: rations did get up but were sparse and monotonous; water was always short and anyone who had any connection with a vehicle spent much of the day extricating it from being bogged down in sand or having cracked a sump on rock, and most of the night maintaining and refuelling it. In most areas it was impossible to dig trenches and instead sangars – firing posts created by building a circular wall of rocks, which had to be at least two feet thick to stop small arms fire – had to be constructed, a laborious and lengthy task for the infantry whenever they halted for any length of time. The only plus points about the desert were that there were few civilians to get in the way, and as the air and the soil, dust and sand were reasonably clean, wounds tended not to go septic. But worse than the physical discomfort which the troops had to put up with was the disappointment. The newspapers at home had told them they were going to win a great victory, the prime minister had told them so, their own leaders had told them so, and yet their own experiences indicated that the German soldier was better, more flexible and more efficient, and so was German equipment. While this was not entirely true, to many of the soldiers of the Eighth Army their hero was not Churchill, or Auchinleck, but Rommel, who seemed to them to be able to run rings round the ponderous British.

  Under normal circumstances, if war can ever be normal, the Eighth Army would now regroup, replace its casualties, repair its damaged vehicles, take delivery of replacements, disseminate the lessons of Crusader and prepare for the next great leap forward – and the objective was still Tripoli. Unfortunately for Auchinleck, the events of 7 December, when Japan entered the war, just a week before Crusader began to wind down, were to place major restrictions on what he could now do. The British had learned at least one of the lessons from the Greek debacle, and troops would not be taken away from Eighth Army to go to the Far East, but troop reinforcements that Auchinleck would have received were diverted and he could not now expect any more tanks or anti-aircraft guns; indeed, he was prevailed upon to send an armoured brigade and some field artillery eastwards. Furthermore, 17 Division and fighter and bomber aircraft squadrons on the way to the Middle East would now be sent to India and the Indian 17 Division, which had been intended for Iraq, would now remain in India. Auchinleck was also concerned about the leadership available to him:

  If we add to inferiority in material an apparent inferiority in leadership, then we shall be in a bad way and not deserve to win… I have a most uncomfortable feeling that the Germans outwit and outmanoeuvre us as well as outshooting us… if it is true then we must find new leaders at once… commanders who consistently have their brigades shot away from under them, even against a numerically inferior enemy, are expensive luxuries, much too expensive in present circumstances.48

  Despite the calls of the Far East from now on, the supply situation for the British in North Africa would in fact begin to improve, while that for Panzer Army Africa (as it became in January 1942, with Rommel promoted to colonel-general) would decline. More and more, the British would throw vehicles, guns, stores into battles of attrition while the Axis, constantly short of everything, would try to rely on flexibility and tactical acuity, but before British material superiority could begin to tell, Rommel had one more offensive card to play. The RAF and the Royal Navy had sunk numerous supply convoys, but the Italian merchant marine showed great courage, ingenuity and persistence to get at least some deliveries through and on 5 January 1942 a convoy bringing much-needed rations, ammunition, replacement vehicles and – critically – fuel did arrive at Tripoli. Rommel was now operating on short lines of communication, while the British were overstretched on theirs. Rommel was convinced that one more push would take him to Cairo, despite the recently appointed Commander-in-Chief South, Field Marshal Albert Kesselring of the Luftwaffe based in Italy, making it plain that he did not believe the supply situation could possibly support such an escapade. On 21 January 1942 Rommel attacked with 117 German and 79 Italian tanks and burst though a much strung-out British front line, which for once had fewer tanks (141) than him. The British retreated to the Gazala line and Rommel followed and then halted to bring up supplies. Throughout the spring, both sides glared at each other from opposite sides of minefields and built up their stocks.

  Berlin now began to take more interest in Rommel than hitherto, when he had been regarded as a mere sideshow. Grand Admiral Raeder, Commander-in-Chief of the German navy, pointed out that British involvement in the Middle East was much more about oil than any imperial designs in the area. If the British could be deprived of their oil in the Middle East and Persia, then their ability to wage war would be severely limited.A double envelopment with Rommel striking east combined with a drive south from the Caucasus would achieve this and would incidentally sever the British route to India. To do this Rommel would have to receive massive resupplies and reinforcements, which would necessitate achieving at least air parity in the Mediterranean in order for the convoys to Tripoli to have a chance of getting through. Part of the RAF threat to the Italian convoys carrying supplies came from airfields in Egypt, but a particular source of air attacks was the British colony of Malta, not only an unsinkable aircraft carrier in the Mediterranean but also with a fine natural harbour for Royal Navy surface ships and submarines. During the month of April 1942 Malta was subjected to constant air raids by Luftflotte 2, with around 12,000 tons of bombs falling on the island. Much damage was done, but an efficient air-raid warning system and plentiful shelters dug into the rock greatly limited the civilian death toll. However, the raids on Malta not only allowed more convoys than usual to get through to Rommel but also increased Churchill’s demands for an immediate attack by Eighth Army.

  As part of a plan hatched in Berlin, which as its first phase would see Rommel driving the British as far as the Egyptian frontier while Malta was invaded, Panzer Army Africa moved on
26 May. Rommel’s plan was for a classic German encirclement, by outflanking the British line from the south, and, although this eluded him, he did provoke a tank battle in what became known as ‘the cauldron’ in the middle of the British front line, one in which the British lost around 400 tanks. By mid-June, the last effective British armoured brigade had lost over a third of its tanks and the British were once again forced into retreat. In what uncharitably became known as the Gazala Gallop, Ritchie began to extract his units and move them rearward as fast as they could go. London, Headquarters Middle East Command and Headquarters Eighth Army all had different views, which did not help. Churchill in London could not understand why the British were retreating at all and demanded that whatever happened Tobruk, must be held; Auchinleck ordered that the Eighth Army hold west of Tobruk while Ritchie was insistent that the earliest a stand could be made was the Egyptian frontier. Auchinleck had to accept Ritchie’s view but under pressure from Churchill did put a garrison into Tobruk under the command of Major-General Klopper with his own 2 South African Division, 11 Indian Infantry Brigade, a Guards brigade and 4 Royal Tank Regiment, augmented by various odds and sods who were unable to keep up with the rapidly retreating main body.

  Ritchie realized that holding at the frontier with insufficient tanks (and much of the British armour had been lost) was not a realistic proposition as Rommel would simply outflank the infantry, and his plan, agreed by Auchinleck, was to make a stand 170 miles east at Mersa Matruh, with the infantry of X Corps, arriving from Syria, and XIII Corps supported by 1 Armoured Division’s 150 tanks, while what remained of XXX Corps went back to refit and prepare positions where Auchinleck considered the enemy could realistically be stopped, at El Alamein, a mere seventy miles west of Alexandria. The need to besiege Tobruk would delay the Axis advance and give Eighth Army a much-needed opportunity to get itself sorted out at Mersa Matruh. It was to get no respite, for, after a siege of only one week, Klopper surrendered Tobruk on 21 June 1942 and Rommel became a field marshal, at fifty the youngest in the German army. Klopper was hardly a charismatic leader, but in fairness to him the defences of Tobruk had been neglected since the last siege had been lifted in the previous December. Wire had been snaffled by local farmers, trenches and anti-tank ditches had silted up and mines had shifted. Long before the Gazala Gallop, Auchinleck had told the Chiefs of Staff in London that Tobruk could not and should not be held if the British had to withdraw again, and this had been accepted at the time, but not now. Not all of Klopper’s troops accepted his orders to cease fighting. Second Battalion the Cameronians fought on for twenty-four hours before agreeing to surrender, and Second Battalion 7 Gurkha Rifles saw no need to surrender at all and broke out through the perimeter, intending to fight its way back to Egypt. It took an entire Italian corps and several weeks to round the Gurkhas up, some having got as far as Sollum on the frontier. One enterprising havildar (sergeant) somehow obtained a camel and Arab clothing and walked 400 miles all the way back to Egypt to rejoin Eighth Army. It is probably unnecessary to say that Gurkhas do not look at all like Arabs; nor do they speak Arabic.

  Tobruk was, in fact, only of use to the British if it was behind their lines and could be used as a port for resupply. If it lay behind the German lines, the RAF could make it of little use as a supply point for the Axis, and it was only held because Churchill insisted on it. When the news came through that it had fallen with 25,000 men taken prisoner, Churchill was in America and he took it very badly. The only compensation was that Roosevelt felt so sorry for him that he promised to send him the first batch of 300 of the new M4 tank, known to the British as the Sherman, and 100 self-propelled 105mm artillery pieces by fast US ships to Egypt.

  Auchinleck now had to sack another Commander Eighth Army. He flew up to Mersa Matruh on 25 June, looked at Ritchie’s dispositions, heard his plan for the coming battle, decided that both they and he were not going to work and sent Ritchie back to Cairo.* As there was no one else obviously available to replace him, Auchinleck assumed command of the Eighth Army himself. Ritchie’s dispositions were certainly faulty: his forces were too spread out with large gaps between units, which would not have mattered had there been sufficient anti-tank guns or mobile formations to cover the gaps, but there were not. More serious was Ritchie’s intention to fight a defence to the last man and the last round. Auchinleck knew that what mattered was not a bit of useless desert but the Suez Canal and the Persian oil fields. He only had one army and if he broke it there would not be another. Mersa Matruh was to be a delaying battle while proper defensive positions were prepared farther back, and then units were to be extracted intact for the real battle at El Alamein.

  Auchinleck had little time to prepare for battle at Mersa Matruh. What he wanted to do was send all troops without integral transport back to Alamein or to the Nile Delta, which meant that the only non-motorized infantry that could be retained would be that which could be transported by the trucks of the Royal Army Service Corps which were not needed for supplies – not many. The battle was to be fought by battle groups, each a mix of motorized or vehicle-borne infantry combined with tanks and artillery and each of roughly battalion size. How many of these could be created from each brigade would depend upon the artillery and armour available. It was a totally sensible idea, and it is the way we fight now with a battle group consisting (usually) of two infantry companies, two squadrons of tanks and a battery of guns, but in 1942 it was far too far ahead of its time. Divisional, brigade and even battalion commanders disliked splitting their formations up and even – heaven forfend – having their men commanded by some frightful outsider from the Royal Armoured Corps or the reverse, a grubby infantryman. Even the normally sensible Freyberg, commanding the New Zealand Division, announced that he would appeal over the head of Auchinleck to the New Zealand government, as if a politician sitting in Auckland on the other side of the world could possibly pronounce on orders of battle of the Eighth Army.* In the event, the matter became one of merely academic interest as on 26 June Rommel ordered the DAK forward, hoping to use its armour to push the British tanks away to the south, using the Italians to distract the defenders by advancing from the west and south, while 90 Light Division of motorized infantry attacked along the coast and took Mersa Matruh. While Rommel’s plan did not work out as he planned, he sowed considerable confusion amongst the British, particularly in the case of Gott, now commanding XIII Corps,who misinterpreted 21 Panzer moving south to avoid British armour as a flanking move that had annihilated the entire New Zealand Division, and ordered his corps to withdraw. As Gott was convinced that the New Zealand Division had ceased to exist, they were left without any armoured support and had to break out alone, which they did with considerable skill, getting back to the south of the Alamein position.With the premature withdrawal of XIII Corps, X Corps was left to fend for itself and another chaotic retreat ensued, this time made worse by the corps communications breaking down. It was fortunate for the British that anyone got back at all, largely because the movement of the DAK was almost as chaotic. British and German columns were all moving in the same direction and all trying to avoid each other, and the situation was hardly improved by the Axis using large numbers of captured British vehicles and the fact that both sides’ uniforms looked very much the same at night. The RAF bombed British columns and German machine-gunners fired on their own troops.

  The Battle of El Alamein is associated in the public mind with Montgomery and the battle of that name fought from 23 October to 4 November 1942,but there were two battles of El Alamein and arguably the first, fought by Auchinleck, was the more important, for it was that battle that stopped the Axis advance towards the Nile, and marked the farthest east they ever got. Rommel’s plan was to arrange a diversionary move to the south and then burst through the junction of the two British infantry corps with his 90 Light Division followed by his armour, which would then fan out north and south behind the British and either destroy Eighth Army piecemeal or panic it into retreating headl
ong for the Nile, whereupon Panzer Army Africa would follow and be in Alexandria by the end of the week. It didn’t happen. Despite the chaos of the British withdrawal and the fact that some British units were still moving into position when Rommel launched his attack on 1 July, Auchinleck had placed his remaining troops in a series of brigade boxes, each with armoured support and integral artillery, through which even the men of the DAK could not break. By evening the infantry of 90 Light had not broken through and were digging in as fast as they could wield their shovels, with darkness bringing a blessed relief from the British shelling. Now Rommel, realizing that he had a new opponent, recast his plans. The breakthrough and bomb-burst plan became a combined infantry and armour attack due east making for the coast and at first light on 2 July the infantry formed up to try again. The panzers had suffered a bad night, however, for their replenishment columns had been bombed and scattered by the RAF and the refuelling and rearming, normally done under cover of darkness, had now to be done by day, and tanks would not be ready to move before mid-afternoon.When they did move, they found that the British, instead of their usual hunter chase tactics of a blind headlong charge, were holding back at the extreme range of their tank guns – and the British now had sizeable numbers of American Grant tanks with a 75mm gun – and were coordinating the tank fire with that of the artillery. It had taken a long time, but the British were beginning to learn, spurred on by Auchinleck – that Indian soldier who could not possibly understand the requirements of modern warfare. To the south, the one Italian formation in which the Germans had a certain amount of faith, the Ariete Armoured Division, was caught in one flank by the New Zealanders and in the other by concentrated artillery and anti-tank fire and was virtually wiped out. On 3 July, Rommel made one last effort to break through. But superb soldiers that the men of the DAK were, short of fuel and short of men, they could do no more. Just before midnight Rommel halted the offensive and ordered his men into defensive positions. First Alamein was over and this time there could be no doubt that it was an unqualified British victory. Auchinleck had roundly repudiated those who thought he should never have removed Ritchie, and calmed the panic behind him. The Royal Navy had hastily evacuated Alexandria and in Cairo 1 July became known as Ash Wednesday owing to the number of official papers being burned to prevent them falling into the hands of the Axis should Egypt fall. Destruction of documents gives all sorts of unintended opportunities and, while many of the files consigned to the flames might well have been of use to the enemy, many were the pending courts martial that did not happen as all the necessary paperwork was gone.*

 

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