Alamein (Major Battles of World War Two)

by C. E. Lucas Phillips

  He began, therefore, at last to make preparations for what he should have done several days earlier, instead of playing into the hands of his adversary — a withdrawal to Fuka.

  These preparations, however, were hesitant and indeterminate. Rommel was for the moment undecided in mind and he temporized. He still hung on to the wasteful and valueless Thompson’s Post pocket, which lengthened his frontage and engaged some of his best troops. He had, however, correctly appraised Montgomery’s new intention of making his main thrust along the coast road and he reacted accordingly.

  All his German troops (except the Ramcke Brigade) were now concentrated in the extreme north. He withdrew 21st Panzer Division from the line in the Kidney sector and positioned them north of Tel el Aqqaqir, replacing them with the Trieste division, which he brought up from reserve. To the same area he also transferred Battle Group 155 of 90th Light (together with the remnants of 11/125 Panzer Grenadiers), posting them south-east of Sidi Abd el Rahman, the road and track junction marked by the little, lone mosque where his repair workshops were, and whither, he apprehended, Montgomery would direct his attack. He ordered the other units of 125 Panzer Grenadiers to continue holding their dangerous positions in the Thompson’s Post pocket and gave command of the coastal sector to 90th Light Division under General Graf von Sponeck.

  Thus he still kept a barrier across the road in the pocket and he also built a fence of tanks and guns in front of the approaches to the road south-east of his highly sensitive position at Sidi Abd el Rahman. By this means, he could either continue to resist or he could cover a withdrawal to Fuka.

  Montgomery, in his more serene headquarters beside the placid brilliance of the Mediterranean, observed with interest these new dispositions. He saw that his adversary had divined his intention, was answering to his tune and was packing all his strength to cover the approaches to the coast road. On the morning of 29 October there was a conference at his headquarters, at which Alexander was present, together with McCreery, and various courses were discussed. At 11 a.m. Montgomery decided once more to change the tune.

  The final blow was not now to be directed at and astride the road. It was to be directed due westward between Woodcock and the extreme top corner of the bulge, six miles south of the road, from what had been the Australian sector at the start of the battle and had now been taken over by 51st Division. It would be aimed to break the enemy’s last and powerful defences on the Rahman Track above and below Tel el Aqqaqir.

  In the meantime, in order to keep Rommel’s attention distracted in the Thompson’s Post pocket, he ordered the Australians to resume their northward attack on the night of the 30th.

  THE THIRD NORTHWARD ATTACK

  This third assault by 9th Australian Division was planned to an even more elaborate formula than the previous one, of which it was a continuation. It was to be a strangling operation in three phases. First, resuming the theme of the previous attack, there was to be a thrust north-eastward to secure a position astride the road and the railway. This thrust would then turn at a right angle to sweep down the railway and get behind the enemy in the bottom of the pocket. The third phase was a final push from the coast road to the sea, for which Morshead was obliged to bring in his Pioneer Battalion to augment his attenuated infantry. To these specific objectives were added patrol tasks to Thompson’s Post and a point on the coast, but they were not set-piece attacks.

  In this night’s work, therefore, there were to be assaults in three directions — three short, fierce dashes — with three Zero hours. An enormous volume of artillery fire was to be at Ramsay’s disposition for an operation that must have been a gunner’s nightmare. For the infantry, the operation meant great skill and dexterity as well as tremendous guts. It was to be an infantry-cum-artillery attack pure and simple, the Valentines of 23rd Armoured Brigade not being specifically committed in the plan but 40th RTR standing by at call. Clarke’s battalion, after their mutilation on the night of 28 October, were out of the battle.

  As before, the night would be dark, with the moon a little later still. The narrow, thrust-out shoulder of ground from which these multiple attacks were to be launched was swept by fire from three sides and the steadiness of the troops would be tested even before they got to their several start-lines. The German OP on Point 25 had complete command of the front. Large areas of the ground were alive with S-mines and booby traps, so that every step in the dark was made at a man’s peril.

  Thus an entanglement of thorny problems beset the feet of those about to step out on this night’s work, but, if these entanglements were overcome, the remaining battalions of 125th Panzer Grenadiers and their supporting troops would be trapped in the bottom of the pocket and this in turn would certainly lead to a fierce reaction by Rommel.

  Before the new battle, Rickie Richards observed to ‘Bomba’ Wells, Morshead’s GSO 1 (with whom, we have noted, he had been at the Staff College): ‘If we had put in this solution to the problem at Camberley, we should certainly have been failed!’ Wells, tired but cheerful, answered with a friendly grin.

  This time it was Second-32nd Battalion, brought in from 24th Brigade, that led off, under John Balfe, setting out behind their powerful barrage in the dark of 10 p.m. on the night of the 30th. The attack went exceedingly well against 1st Battalion 125th PZ Grenadiers, and the Australians, pressing with great dash and determination, won their objective on the coast road[68], but could not mop up all the enemy posts they by-passed. Balfe was wounded and Tom Scott took over.

  For the second phase — the right-handed swing and sweep down the railway — the Victorians of Second-24th (‘Wangaratta’s Own’), under Charles Weir, and the South Australians of Second-48th, under Dick Hammer, came up under a lively fire, formed up on their uncomfortable start-line and advanced to their barrage at 1 o’clock in the morning. They were met by a galling fire from front and flank, suffered heavy casualties and lost touch with each other. Too weak in numbers to press their attack to a firm conclusion and hold their ground, they withdrew to a position in contact with Second-32nd.

  In phase three a gallant effort was made to dash for the sea by Second-3rd Pioneer Battalion at 4.25 a.m. It was the first time that the Pioneers had ever been employed as assaulting infantry, but they succeeded in getting half-way, when stubborn resistance brought them to a halt and, realizing they could not stay out there in isolation, they drew back to a tenable position before dawn.

  The threatening bastion of Thompson’s Post, however, from which a patrol of Second-24th was repelled by fire, remained in enemy hands, and its resolute garrison, encompassed on three sides, continued to be a thorn in Morshead’s side, hammering his troops deep in the flank and rear.

  Thus, in terms of ground gained, it may be said again that the operations did not achieve their objectives in full. The Germans, under a tremendous volume of artillery fire, had fought back with great spirit and managed to hang on ‘with the skin of their teeth’. But the ground was of little value and the enemy losses had been heavy, including 500 officers and men captured, and the greater part of 125th PZ Grenadiers, with their associated troops, were all but shut up in their pocket, only a narrow strip of ground along the sea coast remaining by which to maintain a life-line with the main body.

  The morning light, therefore, showed that the Australians had driven a narrow tongue-like salient into the enemy salient — a tongue with its root between the orchard and Point 29 and its tip thrust out northward to the salty fringe of the sea-marsh, licking precariously a little beyond the embanked coast road. Across the tongue ran the railway, its rails torn and twisted by shell fire and its embankment, four or five feet high, a major obstacle to vehicles. Between the railway and the road there lay some four furlongs of sand and rock, completely flat, completely bare, lashed almost continuously with observed fire from three sides. The air reeked of high explosive and the stench of dead bodies. Vision was limited to a few yards except when, in the occasional pauses in the storm, the sun broke through the envelopi
ng dust-clouds. Across this fiery salient the Australian infantry, with their artillery FOOs and their anti-tank guns driven up with great daring and much loss, superbly supported by field artillery itself under fire, stood prepared to repel all assaults of their enemy.

  Rommel’s reaction was exactly what Montgomery expected and wanted, both for his policy of attrition and for the purpose of distracting Rommel’s attention away from the intended British point of main effort. Entirely fulfilling the Army Commander’s purpose, the Australians ‘drew everything on to themselves’ with considerable emphasis, for Rommel’s response was immediate, fierce and persistent. The worthless strip of marsh and desert that comprised this pocket was an obsession to him throughout. Instead of withdrawing its garrison and employing their good qualities more economically on a shortened front, as, for example, to the position east of Sidi Abd el Rahman, he threw in everything he could to support them and to restore the coloured lines on his map to their previous shapes.

  Graf von Sponeck, commanding 90th Light Division, urged that he should be allowed to make a full-scale infantry attack with the whole of his division; he felt confident of success, but Rommel would not consent.

  Four times Rommel strove to hurl back the Australian infantry and the English tanks. First there was an infantry attack by 361st Panzer Grenadiers on the western edge of the tongue early next morning, the 31st. It was met and broken up by strong artillery fire. Rommel then ordered up a ‘battle group’ from 21st Panzers, composed of a few squadrons of tanks accompanied by self-propelled anti-tank guns and field artillery. This gave him a strong superiority at the point of impact, there being no British armour in this sector to face the heavy German panzers other than the lightweight Valentines of 40th RTR.

  During the previous night Finigan had been slowly bringing his Valentines up into the battle by the Stake Track, preceded by the sappers of 295 Field Company, Royal Engineers, weeding the ground of the mines that impeded his progress. By first light he had reached the railway immediately north of Thompson’s Post, but, on attempting to advance up the line of the rail to the north-west to support Second-48th, again struck mines. Finigan’s own tank was blown up and, on his changing to another tank, that also was blown up. He therefore went his hazardous way on foot, while the Field Company commander made a reconnaissance with the audacious notion of attempting to open a way from the east side of Thompson’s Post. That bastion continued to be an impediment to progress. Finigan and Hammer held an uncomfortable conference in the lee of a tank, trying to organize an assault upon it, but Hammer’s gallant band of Second-48th, by reason of their tremendous casualties, could no longer be called a unit and were widely dispersed. ‘Even if it wasn’t broad daylight’, Hammer said as he looked over the wild scene, ‘I doubt whether I could collect more than sixty or seventy men.’

  Therefore Finigan’s squadrons went on alone. Pressing with great spirit, they cut the main road and held their ground beyond it all day entirely unsupported.

  Soon afterwards some twenty German Mark III tanks (augmented later) were seen to be forming up immediately beyond the road near the tip of the salient, and at 1 o’clock, with the desert shapes dancing in the heat haze, battle was joined between the German heavies and three reduced Squadrons of the English lightweights, at a critical point of the new front.

  In that unequal fight the Liverpool men, fighting with the utmost tenacity and skill, assailed by shell-fire from field artillery as well as by the red-hot shots of the panzers, held the enemy at bay beyond the road the whole of the afternoon at heavy cost to themselves. In the midst of the action Finigan was summoned to meet Richards at the Orchard for fresh orders and on his way back to the battle was unhorsed for the third time that day, his mount being knocked out this time by an anti-tank gun at Thompson’s Post. His adjutant Wilfred Hargreaves, and his driver, ‘Chalky’ White, were pinned down to the ground by a Spandau in the same strongpoint, which kept its sights firmly fixed on them. In Finigan’s absence, Major Richard MacLaren commanded the tank battle beyond the coast road. When both sides withdrew at last light the gallant 40th Battalion, after breaking the attack and destroying five German tanks, had themselves lost twenty-one.[69] In their eight days of almost continuous action with the Australians, ‘Monty’s Foxhounds’, having begun the battle on 23 October with 42 tanks, lost nearly fifty.

  Meanwhile, in this dangerous counter-attack by the German battle group, the infantry had been no less severely engaged. The attack fell mainly on Second-32nd, now commanded by Tom Scott. There was a critical, hard-hitting fight at close quarters in blazing heat and in a storm of fire that shook and smothered both sides. Although there was some local penetration, the Australians held on to their main positions with set teeth as the enemy thrusted, recoiled then thrusted again, the while a pall of smoke and dust totally obscured the salient from observers to the rear and even at times hid one man from his neighbour.

  Three hours later the German battle group assaulted once again in the same manner and again with no success. The ragged salient, held by thin ranks of men dazed and numb from mental and physical fatigue, stood firm against the waves that beat upon its rocks, while an unceasing rain of shells, bombs and bullets pounded down from Thompson’s Post to the sea, and the sand slowly drifted over the bodies of the dead. The whole battle glittered with valiant feats of arms by individual soldiers and small units, not the least of whom were the devoted stretcher-bearers and ambulance men who, under murderous fire, unconcernedly went about their work of mercy to friend and enemy.

  A quiet night followed, the soldiers of both sides completely exhausted. The lull was fortunate, for Morshead had decided that that night the battle-torn 26th Brigade must be relieved. To do this, 24th Brigade, from their old coastal position to the east, were ordered round by a long, circuitous and very difficult approach march, which Godfrey’s brigade accomplished skilfully.

  The 26th had fought to the limits of flesh and blood; one of its battalions was commanded by a captain. Second-24th had been reduced to 140 men. Second-48th had won its third Victoria Cross, again posthumous, the courage of Sergeant Bill Kibby had shone in one heroic act after another from D Day onwards and now, on the night of the 30th, after his platoon had been mown down by machine-gun fire at point blank, he had gone forward alone, hurling grenades, until he himself had fallen.

  Not yet convinced of the futility of these attacks on the 31st, Rommel ordered yet another attempt to throw out the Australians on the morning of Sunday, 1 November. His voice was heard by the British wireless intercept service, telling his soldiers that only a small pocket of tired British troops lay in front of them. There was another long, bitter and bloody fight in the sweltering heat and the choking dust. The Australian forward positions were penetrated, but the infantry, as long as they lived, did not give ground and the battle rasped up and down the frayed and blistered edges of the protruding tongue. Ground was lost, retaken and lost again. Arthur Godfrey, commanding his brigade from a small weapon pit, was killed by a direct hit, together with all with him. His brigade-major, Don Jackson, carried on till Bernard Evans was sent to command.

  Unsupported by tanks, and their every movement observed by the German OP on Point 25, the Australians hung on by their teeth to their main positions and the only satisfaction that the enemy could extract from these fierce efforts was to bite off the tip of the tongue beyond the road and re-establish contact with 125th Panzer Grenadiers in the bottom of the pocket. That, however, did not avail them for long.

  THE RHODESIAN GUNNERS

  Among many memorable actions fought by small sub-units in this fierce fighting in the Australian sector, one that bears witness to the nature of the conflict was that fought by the Rhodesian battery of the Northumberland Hussars (102nd Anti-Tank Regiment, Royal Artillery).[70]

  That regiment was one which in earlier days had won fame as tank-killers with little 2-pdrs and they had served through the fiery ordeals of Greece and Crete. The Rhodesians, or ‘Rhodeos’, as they
were affectionately called, were incorporated as their D Battery, 289th in the official serial numbering. They had a pronounced English Yeoman character and flavour, were resourceful, tenacious, self-reliant, cheerful, accustomed to an open-air life and delightful companions and comrades. They were commanded by Major W. H. Williamson, an Englishman of charming personality and gallant spirit.

  The Rhodesian Battery, equipped with 6-pdrs, was sent up from the south, where the Northumberland Hussars were serving with 50th Division, to reinforce the Australians on 27 October, but did not go into action until the night assault of the 30th. They then drove up their guns behind the infantry. The night erupted and flashed on all sides and the moon glowed yellow through the clouds of dust that spouted from the bursts of shells. The dim shadow of the rail embankment appeared like a low wall stretching away on either side in the dusty darkness. Williamson disposed three of his Troops astride it, Lieutenant John Bawden’s Troop facing north-west towards 361st Panzer Grenadiers and those of Lieutenant Pat Cramer and Lieutenant H. R. C. Callon north and north-east towards 125th. There was no finesse of defilade fire; the guns, sited in the dark, just pointed at the enemy. Just to a flank were the still forms of a clutch of dead Valentines of 23rd Armoured Brigade.

  Williamson waited for the morning’s early light of the last day of October to correct his guns’ positions. But he was never to see that light. He stood near the mangled railway line in the bitter cold, with Lieutenant J. N. D. Woodrow beside him and Bombardier Catella near by. Just as the stars began to pale, a burst of machine-gun fire caught him full in the chest. Catella was killed also and bullets ripped through both armpits of Woodrow’s coat.

  Command devolved on Captain Guy Savory, the slow-spoken Rhodesian farmer, but he was not in the battery position that day and all the morning the Rhodesians, with no officers but their subalterns, sat tight and expectant in their gun-pits, watching and listening to the conflict ahead as 361st Panzer Grenadiers made their fruitless attack. They were continually under fire, but could do no more than sit and wait, as anti-tank gunners so often had to do, taking casualties, until attacked.