The bombardment increased as the mirage began its shimmering dance about noon. The enemy command tanks felt their way forward cautiously to make a reconnaissance and then retired to give their orders for battle. A little later a smoke-screen was laid down on the front of Second-13th Australian Battalion. The whole frontage of the Kidney sector was prickly with expectation as the sun reached his most savage hour. The British forces — infantry, armour and artillery — bathed in perspiration and powdered with dust, braced themselves with complete confidence.
A whole series of counter-attacks was then thrown against the British, with an ineptitude which showed that the enemy commanders wholly failed to appreciate the very nature of the situation and the potential of the forces opposing them. The attacks were made with the enemy’s usual skill in minor tactics and with his usual forcefulness of purpose; but they were made piecemeal, at different places and different times. Mounted by 15th Panzer and the Littorio Divisions, accompanied by infantry and supported by concentrations of fire from field and anti-tank artillery, they were directed in turn against the Riflemen of 7th Motor Brigade (with the results that we saw in the last chapter), against Second-13th and Second-17th Australian Battalions (separately), against 24th Armoured Brigade farther to the south and against 2nd Armoured Brigade. All failed and at considerable loss.
Second-13th, still partly equipped with the little 2-pdrs, sat motionless when the attack on them developed until the enemy was within 100 yards and then opened fire as though at a single word of command. The whole line of tanks ‘shuddered to a standstill’, the foremost within forty yards of the little guns. Not a single tank in the enemy’s leading squadron escaped.
The last and heaviest attack, mounted with fifty-five tanks, fell upon 9th Lancers and the Bays. Although the Bays now had only three Shermans left, the attack was repulsed decisively and the enemy, having lost eighteen tanks very quickly, left the field.
These were the first of many sharp reverses that the enemy armour was to suffer in this sector. Although 1st Armoured Division lost twenty-four tanks that hot and dusty day, they claimed in their diary to have knocked out fifty-three. In all, in two days’ fighting since first light on the 24th, not fewer than seventy-seven German tanks had been destroyed or effectively disabled on the northern front and probably half as many Italians. It was an impressive achievement, with which Monty, so far, was ‘well content’. The steady destruction of the enemy tanks, begun on a small scale the day before, swelled to a fuller measure. This was exactly what Montgomery wanted. This was what he had counted upon. The enemy was playing straight into his suit.
On the other hand, in the face of the enemy’s own well-integrated barriers of anti-tank guns, Briggs’s regiments could make no progress on the ground, which was also important to the Army Commander’s plan. The task assigned to them to thrust west and north-west by that evening was not yet achieved. Making one more attempt on the troublesome Point 33, Fisher sent in 10th Hussars with artillery support at a late hour, but they met a fate similar to that of the Bays. Major George Errington, calling for the supporting artillery barrage to be stopped because its smoke and dust prevented him from seeing the enemy, found himself encompassed by heavy guns at close range.
Three Shermans were quickly knocked out. Their escaping crews were just saved from capture by the redoubtable Sergeant Made, who attacked the Germans coming out to take them with his bren gun.
During this day there developed a good deal of friction between the armour and the infantry, more particularly the Highland Division. The tanks, still held at bay, were fighting their battles in or near the infantry FDLs. They were drawing heavy fire, adding to the infantry casualties. They were ‘milling about’ a great deal and their movements, as well as those of their wheeled vehicles, were dangerous to the infantry soldier in his trench, especially at night. A Scottish colonel, trying to get some sleep, said to a squadron leader: ‘I wish you’d go away.’
The presence of the tanks was a valuable protection against an enemy attack, but the infantry did not yet understand armoured action and expected the tanks to ‘waltz through’. What the man on foot did not realize — because nobody told him — was that our armour were methodically knocking out enemy tanks in the way that they should and were thus beginning to win the battle. Both arms were a little to blame for lack of understanding.
About the same time there also developed that serious difference over the reading of the desert’s expressionless face, which we have already noted. The oldest hands, who had ‘swanned’ about the desert for two years and prided themselves on their map-reading, were nonplussed at identifying the little folds and dips and swellings which looked so anonymous in the Kidney sector and which did not seem to relate themselves to the contour lines on the map. There was particular confusion over the recognition of the Kidney ‘ridge’ and Aberdeen. The 30-metre ring-contour, shaped like a kidney, seemed on the map to be an elevation, but in fact it was a shallow depression; the real ridge did not run along the terrain enclosed by the ring-contour, but to the east and north of it, with a spur to the west. A hummock crowned with a rocky pimple was at first assumed by 10th Hussars to be Aberdeen.
These differences of opinion were to have considerable bearing on some of the operations to follow and caused anxious arguments before attacks were mounted. It was agreed afterwards that the Scots, though newcomers to the desert, were on this occasion more nearly correct than the experienced 1st Armoured.
HIGHLAND AND AUSTRALIAN ATTACKS
While the armour was thus eating into the enemy’s tank strength during the day, the Highland and Australian infantry were preparing offensive operations for the night.
Three battalion operations were set on foot in 51st Division. The first of these we have seen brought to a temporary halt on 1st Gordons’ sector immediately in front of Aberdeen. A second was launched by 7th Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders, under Lorne Campbell, against Nairn, which had originally been the target of the Divisional Reconnaissance Regiment and 50th RTR, but which they had been unable to reach on the first night.
The Argylls attacked south-westwards from their Greenock position with three weak companies in bright moonlight at 11 p.m., without benefit of artillery. Nairn was a formidable position, which was divided into three separate objectives. The attack was made with great determination at considerable cost. There was a fierce and bloody close-quarters fight right in the German trenches. One by one their positions were overcome at push of bayonet. Sixty Germans were killed in their weapon pits, but the Argylls suffered severely also. A Company lost all its officers and Company Sergeant-Major F. Young took command with the competence of a natural leader. Before the end of the operation Captain J. C. Meiklejohn was the only officer left alive and unwounded in the three companies.
Next morning Meiklejohn found that the Germans had closed in behind him and that he was cut off, but he hung on alone for three days. Unavailing attempts were made to get through to him with water, ammunition and supplies, yet Captain Aymer Wilson, the doctor, and his stretcher-bearers, ‘quartering the ground like questing spaniels’, in Lorne Campbell’s words, somehow managed to get away all the wounded. Brigadier Houldsworth himself was one of the first to get through and found Meiklejohn’s gallant band ‘in excellent spirits.’
The third of the Highlanders’ operations on the night of the 25th went easily. This was against Stirling, originally the final objective of the Argylls.
We have seen already that 2nd Seaforth Highlanders had secured a line not far from it on the day before and that afterwards this powerful strong point had been overrun by the armour. It was believed to have been reoccupied by the enemy, and 5th Black Watch, under Thomas Rennie, were now ordered to attack it, with a squadron of 46th RTR following up for support if required. Like the Argylls’ attack on Nairn, it was timed for 11 p.m. and without artillery support.
Two companies were put in, led by George Dunn and Charles McGregor. The battalion walked silently towards th
e ridge in bright moonlight in extended order. Not a shot met them and when at length they topped the flat-headed ridge, expecting trouble, the moon revealed nothing to them but the dark shapes of the shattered 88s and the sprawling forms of some 30 dead Germans of 164th Light Division.
To the surprised view of the Jocks, a solid, black shape, long and low, was seen approaching, resolving itself as it drew near into the form of a German armoured car. The Scots lay low and allowed it to come right up to them, when an officer took a pot shot at it with his revolver. The bullet fluked through the driver’s slot in the armour and killed him. The stalled vehicle was carrying two other Germans, who jumped out and surrendered. In the car was found a hot meal intended for one of the outpost garrisons and it now became the Jocks’.
Dawn, however, brought a disagreeable surprise. In the hard rock, the Black Watch had been able to hack out only a few shallow scrapes for their protection, but, as the darkness dissipated, a force of Germans was revealed entrenched not more than fifty yards ahead. Sniping and mortaring began at once. Lieutenant Jock Cordiner, his platoon bothered by the snipers, ran out, accompanied by two or three men, with grenades in their hands to suppress them. The Germans allowed them to approach within ten yards and then riddled them with bullets. The enemy's fire became increasingly damaging to the exposed Scots; McGregor was killed and Dunn wounded.
Meanwhile, Rennie observed what was going on from his battalion headquarters about a hundred yards back. He came up himself in his apparently lackadaisical maimer and swiftly organized a classic platoon attack under cover of smoke from their own little 2-inch mortars. It was a model illustration of a text-book manoeuvre often laid on for demonstrations of tactics at home but too rarely employed in live battle. It was a complete success and the German force surrendered to a man. Such minor incidents as these illustrate the unexpectedness of the desert situations and the resourcefulness they demanded.
With the exception of Aberdeen, which fell to 1st Gordons within twenty-four hours, all 51st Division’s objectives were now secured. It was a fine performance for a virtually new division in their first action. The losses had been heavy — probably heavier than those of any other division so far. Before the end of the battle the Camerons had lost twenty-five officers; of ten subalterns who came to them on this day to replace casualties, all but one were themselves casualties in the next few days. The Argylls lost 275 (13 officers), 7th Black Watch 261 (19 officers). But the division had proved the value of their training and the inspiration of their tradition. The tenacity and resource of their infantry — territorial heirs of regimental names lustrous in history — the superb support of their hard-driven artillery,[48] the devotion of their Royal Engineers, backed by their units of the administrative services, were collectively the hall-marks of a fine and well-integrated fighting machine.
The most important of the operations of the night of the 25th, however, was the northward attack which Montgomery had called upon the Australians to launch. It was the first bar in that change of tune which was to alter the whole orchestration of the battle and to provoke the enemy to the most furious and fateful of dances.
Morshead’s assignment was by no means an easy one. From an open flank he had to drive a narrow salient into the enemy position, and from this salient, which would certainly become a very hot one, he would have to turn east. The whole operation was to become one of three phases, and for this night his plan was a bold one with a limited objective. This objective was the elevation known as Point 29[49] and an enemy strongpoint[50] on the relatively high ground northeast of it.
Point 29 — about twenty feet higher than the surrounding desert — lay about a mile and a quarter to the north of the far end of the bulge. It was a very important artillery observation post and was strongly held by 125th Panzer Grenadier Regiment. Morshead’s patrols had reported that few mines were to be found in the immediate path to this locality and that same evening another patrol had a very lucky bag: they captured two senior officers of 125th PZ Grenadiers who had marked maps of the area and who talked surprisingly freely.
The attack was made at midnight by 26th Australian Brigade, with ‘Monty’s Foxhounds’ of 40th RTR standing by, and supported by seven regiments of field and medium artillery, while Wellingtons of the RAF dropped 115 tons of bombs in the battle area. The assault was remarkable not only for its swift and convincing success but also for the manner in which it was carried out. It was begun by Second-48th Battalion, who advanced on Point 29, and forty minutes later Second-24th, forming up behind the position captured by the right forward company of their comrades, attacked separately to the north-east. The action went like a model demonstration, both units seizing their objectives at once, with a bag of 240 prisoners. What was most remarkable, however, was the manner of the capture of Point 29.
The CO of Second-48th, Dick Hammer, was a very remarkable character. ‘Hard as nails’ was the motto that he had impressed upon his battalion, who called him ‘Tack’ and who found that they were the nails to his hammer. Formerly a cavalry man, he had commanded a mechanized machine-gun unit and had a feeling for cavalry action. Having learnt that there was only one minefield on the path to his objective, and that not a difficult one, he resolved on a daring and imaginative manoeuvre. His two leading companies advanced some 900 yards on foot in the conventional method and seized the minefield. The sappers cleared gaps. Then the battalion’s third rifle company, mounted entirely in bren-carriers, moved up through the gap, advanced four abreast across the remaining 1,000 yards to Point 29 itself, under cover of a sharp artillery concentration, charged and surprised the German garrison. The Australians leapt from their carriers and there followed what was the bloodiest hand-to-hand fighting of the battle, the Germans resisting with plenty of spirit until overcome.
Point 29 was a key position on the Alamein battlefield. When Rommel shortly returned from Germany, he at once showed that he was peculiarly sensitive at this spot. It was, in fact, this sector, and not Kidney Ridge, as stated by other writers, which was to him ‘Hill 28’. Fighting was to rage violently all round the captured ground for the next week as the enemy strove to recover Point 29, but they strove in vain against the tenacious grip of the Aussies.
During this fine action Private P. E. Gratwick won a posthumous Victoria Cross for great individual heroism which materially assisted the operation. His platoon commander and sergeant were both killed and the platoon reduced to a strength of seven men, but he restored the momentum by single-handed leadership of the most inspiring degree. He charged alone against the enemy strongpoint that had halted them and completely destroyed it with grenades, wiping out a mortar crew and a machine gun detachment. He then proceeded to attack another enemy post and inflicted casualties in that also before he was himself killed.
His was one of two Victoria Crosses won at Alamein by Second-48th, who had already been awarded one at Tel el Eisa in July (Private Gurney) and were to win yet a fourth in New Guinea Sergeant Thomas Derrick).
ROMMEL RETURNS
That evening, at Hitler’s desire, Rommel arrived back at his desert headquarters. He had been keeping in touch with the situation and on his flight from Germany had made a short halt at Rome, where he had taken the opportunity, yet once more, of pressing the urgency of the need for more petrol and ammunition and he had demanded that every available Italian submarine and warship should immediately be put to use to make good the shortages.
On arrival in the desert, he took over affairs forthwith from Von Thoma. The lean old warrior, cool and detached, did not seem to be seriously disturbed by the situation. He appeared to regard it in terms of ground lost or won, which was of minor importance in the desert, and the character of the battle as one of attrition was not yet evident. But Rommel’s report to Germany that night was full of disquiet. He noted that the Trento Division had already lost half its infantry and most of its guns, and that 164th Light Division had lost two battalions and some artillery; that the fuel situation was an anxious one;
and that the British had great superiority in guns and armour.
‘Fifteenth Panzer Division’, he recorded later in The Rommel Papers,[51] ‘had counter-attacked several times on 24 and 25 October but has suffered frightful losses in the terrible British artillery fire and non-stop RAF bombing attacks. By the evening of the 25th, only 31 of their 119 tanks remained serviceable.’
In point of fact, his losses in personnel up to that moment did not exceed 3,700 (very much less than the British losses), of whom 2,100 had been taken prisoner. The tank resources remaining to 15th PZ Division appear to be slightly understated and no mention was made of the tanks of Littorio, which were used freely against our infantry and which still numbered at least eighty. We may note also that Rommel’s ammunition situation was nothing like as bad as he from time to time represented, as the British knew to their cost, for the shelling was incessant and heavy for long periods.
‘Our own air force’, he continued, ‘was still unable to prevent the British bombing attacks, or to shoot down any major number of British aircraft…
‘Our aim for the next few days was to throw the enemy out of our defence line at all costs and to re-occupy our old positions.’
Once again, therefore, Rommel had resolved upon the wrong tactics. Instead of husbanding his straitened resources and forming a new defensive front, he put everything to the hazard by wasting his strength against a superior force which, as Alam Halfa should have taught him, was not to be shaken by the methods of earlier days. By deciding to counter-attack in force, and continuing repeatedly to do so with tanks instead of infantry, he did exactly what Montgomery wanted him to do and so laid the faggots for his own cremation. Had he copied Montgomery’s tactics at Alam Halfa, he might well have brought his adversaries to a point of frustration. The follies of ‘over-extension’ were to become rapidly more apparent.
Alamein (Major Battles of World War Two) Page 25