Alamein (Major Battles of World War Two)

by C. E. Lucas Phillips

  In this onslaught our tanks got very much the worst of things. Both sides laid down smoke screens and the whole area became an inferno of smoke, bursting high explosive, dust and darting tracers. The German armour employed the highly effective tactics of putting down a round of smoke accurately just in front of one of our tanks and then firing into the smoke with armour-piercing shot. Within fifteen minutes seven Shermans were on fire within Turner’s position.

  The worst of this fierce conflict took place in the sector occupied by 239th Battery. Sergeant Bob Smith’s gun, which was close to one of our Shermans, was knocked out by a direct hit, and he was blinded for several hours; Bombardier Barnes and Gunner Mercer were killed and Gunner Kane shell-shocked. The stalwart sergeant, in spite of his blindness, moved over to join his friend, Sergeant Ronald Wood, taking Kane with him and nursing him until he recovered. Sergeant Norry’s gun, similarly placed close to a Sherman, was also knocked out, but with no serious casualties. A moment later the tank itself was hit and burst into flames with great violence.

  In a trench nearby were Lance-Bombardier Voce, Baer’s driver, and Gunner Fred Beeson, his soldier-servant. They saw a man screaming with the agony of burns, trying to escape from the turret. They leapt from their trench, clambered on to the burning tank and bore him to their trench. There, some time afterwards, he died.

  Quite clearly, it was out of the question for the armoured brigade to stay in this death trap. It was certainly not the ‘firm base’ it was intended to be. Very rightly, they withdrew to hull-down positions on the Oxalic ridge, leaving a void of a mile and a quarter between themselves and the garrison, who were not sorry to see them go.

  As they withdrew, they were attacked by some German tanks and guns from the north in the Kidney area and this gave the gunners of 239th Battery an opportunity to have their first shoot. A Mark IV was clearly visible at about 1,800 yards. The range was extreme for a 6-pdr and Sergeant Binks, when urged to shoot by Mike Mosley, the RB company commander, rightly declined. This was completely against his training. A little later, when the Mark IV moved, Binks, to the mild annoyance of his own watching Troop commander, was persuaded by Mosley to ‘have a go’. With his third shot Binks hit and halted the tank, which was immediately towed away by another.

  At about the same time (9 a.m.) considerable movement of Italian troops gave indications that they were about to attack the garrison on the south with infantry. Turner ordered the Scout platoon of C Company to ‘see them off’. The carriers did so accordingly, engaging the enemy infantry with small arms so effectively that many were killed and wounded and the rest ran away westwards. Two captured British 6-pdrs were then seen being towed into position. These also the carriers engaged and put the towing vehicles out of action. ‘During the next half-hour,’ Flower recorded, ‘many excellent sniping targets were offered by small groups of Italians as they tried to run away’. With their bren gun ammunition running low, rifles only were used.

  Turner, ‘hopping mad’ at being shelled by his friends, as he continued to be for some time, and exasperated by the lack of a FOO, became seriously concerned also for the wounded. If the doctor could not come up, somehow an attempt must be made to get the more seriously wounded back to him, whatever the risk. Turner accordingly ordered Captain Peter Shepherd-Cross, accompanied by Sergeant Sampher, to make a dash in three bren-carriers.

  The loading of the wounded into the carriers was done under fire and the little convoy was shelled all the way back. Shepherd-Cross’s carrier actually sustained a direct hit from a 75-mm but miraculously was not seriously damaged. The little convoy got safely home. It was Shepherd-Cross’s intention to bring back Picton, together with more ammunition, which was urgently needed. He found Tom Pearson standing by with a convoy trying to get through, as he continued to do most of the day, but whenever he attempted to cross the ridge the convoy was immediately lashed with fire which it could not hope to get through.

  The garrison was, therefore, now alone and cut-off, with virtually no hope of relief. Turner and Bird went round the position telling the men so and that they would have to stick it out. The officers were answered by little grins and Cockney jokes. The men closed more firmly up to their weapons, bracing themselves, entirely confident. What had happened so far had been a sharp enough experience, but not a severe test. They had no doubt that such a test would come.

  The continued resistance of the island outpost had become a serious nuisance to the enemy, who now evidently decided that they must wipe it out. Two further direct attacks upon it were mounted at 10 o’clock. They were part of a two-pronged offensive operation ordered by Colonel Teege from behind Hill 37. One prong of this operation was directed against 24th Armoured Brigade, who had just retired. This was to be carried out by some twenty-five to thirty German tanks of the Stiffelmayer Group. To make this attack, however, the German tanks would be exposed to dangerous flanking fire from Turner’s outpost and Teege accordingly ordered the Italian element of this battle group to attack the garrison and wipe it out. This attack was entrusted to Captain Preve, of 12th Battalion, 133rd Tank Regiment, Littorio Division. He set out from Hill 37 with thirteen M13 tanks.

  On seeing them advance, Turner ordered the guns of Sergeants Brown and Dolling to be moved to the west sector at once. The detachments responded without hesitation, but the soft sand caused the wheels to sink to their axles. Carriers were then called in and, there being no proper towing-hook, the trails of the guns were hitched up with tow ropes. The awkward manoeuvre, naturally, drew enemy fire at once and Lieutenant R. M. Salt and three men were killed.

  The Italian attack was, however, easily beaten off. Four tanks were hit quickly. The remainder did not attempt to press the attack and withdrew. While this attempt was in progress, the German tanks of the Stiffelmayer Group were seen to move out of their hull-down positions behind Hill 37, driving eastwards across the southern front of the garrison. Their intention to attack 24th Brigade was clear to Turner and his men.

  The riflemen, having disposed of the Italians, at once engaged the Germans, who presented broadside-on targets at about 1,000 yards. Thereupon the German tank commander detached half his strength directly towards the garrison. Notwithstanding this threat, the riflemen continued to engage the broadside-on tanks attacking 24th Brigade, and the latter were similarly presented with broadside-on targets by the tanks attacking the garrison. In this spirited ‘cross ruff’, as Turner described it, not fewer than eight German tanks were set on fire, several others were hit and the remainder withdrew behind Hill 37.

  By now it was nearly 11 o’clock in the forenoon and the position had become extremely hot in both senses of the word. The desert was quivering with heat. The gun detachments and the platoons squatted in their pits and trenches, the sweat running in rivers down their dust-caked faces. There was a terrible stench. The flies swarmed in black clouds upon the dead bodies and the excreta and tormented the wounded. The place was strewn with burning tanks and carriers, wrecked guns and vehicles, and over all drifted the smoke and the dust from bursting high explosive and from the blasts of guns. Six more carriers had been hit and set on fire. The 6-pdrs of Sergeants Hine and Dolling had been knocked out and only thirteen remained in action. Sergeant Swann sent the tough little Hine to take over the gun of Corporal Cope, who had been hit. Several of the detachments were down to two or three men and officers were manning guns to replace casualties. Other detachments were doubling up. Thus, one of the guns was manned by Lieutenant A. B. Holt-Wilson, Sergeant Ayris and Rifleman Chard — a very tough team who later in the day were to handle their gun with exceptional daring.

  But the offensive spirit had firmly seized upon all ranks. The bursting shells that shook the ground and the heavy shot that smashed a gun or carrier, or that took the breath from one’s lungs with the vacuum of its close passing, could not shake that spirit. Every kill was acclaimed. At last they had got a weapon that could knock-out the panzers. Gone was any thought of ‘lying doggo’, any conception
of mere defence of a ‘pivot of manoeuvre’. They eagerly engaged every target within range. The gunners of 239th Battery, who so far had had only one target, buried their dead on the spot, manned their brens and rifles and occupied themselves with ‘rabbit shooting’. On three sides of the island there was enemy movement of every sort — parties on foot, trucks, staff cars, motor-cycles. Turner, Bird and other officers moved about from gun to gun throughout the morning, so also did Rifleman Burnhope, giving to the wounded, including a few German wounded found in the position, such succour as his scanty medical stores allowed.

  The most serious concern, however, was the shortage of 6-pdr ammunition. Bird and the great-hearted Corporal Francis — the ‘young Old Bill’ as Bird called him — set about transferring the heavy green boxes from one gun to another by jeep, unconcerned by the heavy burst of fire which this blatant movement invited. The shortage was particularly acute on the south-western sector, facing Hill 37, where Lieutenant Jack Toms’s guns were sited.

  It was precisely from this direction that another attack was mounted at 1 o’clock, and again by Italian tanks. Believing, no doubt, that there could now be little left of the garrison after so long a drubbing, and having seen no gunfire for some time, eight tanks and one or more Semovente self-propelled field guns (of 105-mm calibre) advanced on the position, firing their machine-guns vigorously.

  Here there was now only one gun in action that could bear. It was that commanded by Sergeant Charles Calistan, the finely-built young athlete from the East End of London. He was alone, one of his detachment lying wounded and the others having, on his orders, crawled away to fetch more ammunition. Seeing his predicament, Turner himself and Jack Toms ran to join him. Calistan took post on the left of the gun as layer, Turner on the right as loader, and Toms behind as No. 1.

  Turner ordered fire to be held until the enemy tanks were within 600 yards. The sergeant and the two officers then opened a devastating fire. Five of the eight tanks and the Semovente were hit very quickly one after the other and burst into flames. The three remaining tanks still came on, however, with great spirit, machine-gunning hard, and there were only two rounds of ammunition left.

  Toms ran to his jeep, which was a hundred yards away, and quickly loaded several boxes of ammunition from a gun out of action. He drove back with the machine-gun bullets from the three tanks streaming down on him. It was an almost suicidal act. The jeep was riddled and burst into flames ten yards short of Calistan’s gun. Turner ran to the jeep. So also did Corporal Francis, who had doubled over from Hine’s gun to give a hand. Turner, Toms and Francis lugged the ammunition from the burning vehicle and dragged it to the gun.

  At this point a shell splinter penetrated Turner’s steel helmet and wounded him severely in the skull. He keeled over sideways beside the gun, the blood streaming down over his eyes.

  Toms and Calistan carried on, joined now by Corporal Barnett as loading number. The three remaining Italian tanks, their machine-guns blazing, were now within 200 yards. The silent gun seemed to be at their mercy. Their bullets were beating like rain upon the gun-shield and kicking up spurts of sand in the shallow pit. Calistan, who all this time had been keeping them in his sight with the utmost unconcern, while he waited for the ammunition, laid with coolness and deliberation.

  With three shots he killed all three tanks, which added their conflagrations to those of the other six.[62]

  He then coolly turned round and said: ‘We haven’t had a chance of a brew all morning, but the Eyeties have made us a fire, so let’s use it.’ He thereupon poured some water into a billy-can, which he set on the bonnet of the burning jeep, and brewed-up some tea. To the wounded Turner, it was ‘as good a cup as ever I’ve tasted.’

  This must, without doubt, have been a disconcerting blow to the enemy. An intercept of his wireless disclosed that he was seriously concerned by this island of resistance just before he was to launch his big counter-attack. No further tank activity, however, took place for another three hours, but in the meantime the shelling continued.

  Turner, having lain down for a while under a camel’s thorn bush near Calistan’s gun, insisted, against all persuasion, on visiting his guns once more, but the effort was too severe and he had to be taken down into the small headquarters dug-out where Marten and the wireless were. Even from here he occasionally sallied out to give encouragement and example, but later in the day he began to suffer from the hallucination that he was defending a harbour against hostile warships. On seeing a tank, he would exclaim ‘Open fire on that destroyer.’ It was, indeed, a very good simile and an hallucination of the sort that showed the spirit in the man. At length his officers had to restrain him physically.

  The long, hot afternoon that followed under almost continuous shell and mortar fire, with no chance of hitting back and with the desert floor dancing in the rays of the furnace overhead, was perhaps the hardest part of the day. After the fatigues of the long night, the strain of the gruelling hours under the sun became accentuated by hunger and thirst; there was no chance to eat anything and those who did not have full equipment ‘on the man’ had nothing to drink either. Before long Bird, Toms, Liddell, Flower, Irwin and Crowder had all been wounded. In the tiny command-post dug-out six wounded officers and men, two other officers and two signalmen were crowded together with a million flies. No officer was left on the western sector and command fell to Sergeant Brown. It became impossible to move about in the position except at a crawl, but in A Company’s sector Sergeant-Major Atkins crawled round from time to time to give cheer to the riflemen of the motor platoons.

  Command and control thus became extremely difficult. Indeed, each sub-unit and even each gun was now acting mainly by instinct on its own initiative, an initiative that needed no spur. The Scout platoons, performing an equally valiant if less vital service, had been urged by the same spirit, engaging the enemy constantly with bren or rifle, but having their carriers hit one after another. By 4 p.m. the carriers of C Company, having fired 45,000 rounds, had no more ammunition.

  Meanwhile, at the headquarters of 1st Armoured Division, Raymond Briggs was following events, as disclosed by the radio, with mixed feelings. Naturally impelled to send help to the hard-pressed garrison, he had, on the other hand, to weigh carefully the new fact, of which he had become aware at 10.30 that morning, through wireless intercepts, that 21st Panzer Division had come up from the south overnight and that their headquarters had actually been located only a little west of Kidney. He must expect to have to face them very soon, as well as the remains of 15th Panzer and the Littorio. To do so, he must conserve his armour. He had, therefore, to choose between the disagreeable alternatives of losing the Rifle Brigade or losing more tanks. He decided that he must leave the garrison to fight it out themselves. Never was a calculated risk more stoutly justified by those exposed to it.

  Greater trials, and with them greater triumphs, were still to come. Once more the garrison was attacked by its friends. This time it was 2nd Armoured Brigade, whose tanks breasted the eastern horizon at about 4 o’clock and whose gunners, 11th RHA, subjected the garrison to the most vicious shelling by the 105-mm guns of their Priests. As Turner said afterwards, during an ‘unpleasant’ day, this was the ‘most unpleasant’ thing of all.

  Though the garrison did not know it, this was the hour that Rommel had decided upon for his counter-attack and the area immediately to their north was one of the two principal points of thrust ordered by Rommel. Soon after this unpleasant shelling experience, the garrison could plainly see a powerful force of seventy German and Italian tanks, accompanied by self-propelled guns, forming up in the area west of Kidney Ridge, facing eastwards towards the British lines.

  They were in two groups, one behind the other. In the most forward group could be seen thirty Germans and ten Italians and in their rear were another thirty Germans. The riflemen and the gunners watched them mustering at about 1,200 yards and it was evident that a big action was about to begin. They sat tight in their pits and
trenches speculating what might be their part in it. They had not long to wait for the answer.

  At 5 o’clock the first of these groups advanced south-eastward in clouds of dust to attack 2nd Armoured Brigade. The German tanks in this group were almost certainly from the newly arrived 21st Panzer Division, for the course of their advance took them within a few hundred yards of the watching garrison, broadside-on, and, as Turner was to say, ‘it is inconceivable that the tanks which had been engaging us all day should have been so unwise.’

  Advancing in an open phalanx, the tanks shaped course to pass the north-east sector and it was now that the gunners of 239th Battery got their real shoot.

  They had four guns left in action. Four small guns against forty tanks. From left to right, they were those of Sergeants Hillyer, Cullen, Binks and Wood (with whom was Smith). Their two subaltern officers were in the centre and a trifle in rear, Baer nearest to Cullen’s gun, Willmore moving shortly to Hillyer’s. Each sergeant took post a trifle to the flank of his gun, to observe and correct fire. They were in a shallow dip of the ground by themselves and could not see the Rifle Brigade guns from a kneeling position, but knew that Sergeant Newman was just to the left of Hillyer. They were very well concealed, Wood’s gun being invisible from fifty paces ahead.

  Guns loaded, layers following the leaders of the oncoming tanks in their sights, the detachments knelt low behind the small shield, between the widely splayed legs of the split trails. Thrilled and fascinated, the gunners watched the immensely impressive spectacle as the powerful force roared slowly athwart their front, the sand billowing from the tracks. Baer ordered his guns to hold their fire till he gave the word.

  They heard Newman’s gun bark on the left but still kept silent. 500, 400, 300 yards. Then Hillyer, seeing a tank turn in to attack Newman, fired on his own initiative and scored. Accordingly, at 200 yards, Baer gave the order to open fire.