Breakout (Kirov Series Book 38)

by Schettler, John

  When he got to the town, he was informed that Allied air recon units had spotted a German mechanized column moving on the road to Cassel, and if they took the fork leading to Poppering, they might be just 10 kilometers to the south at this time. Adair had all his infantry forward, the tanks being slower, but seeing another fight brewing, he ordered his tanks to make haste. 52nd Lowland had been assigned to secure the shoulder of the penetration and watch that flank, but it was still fighting with German paras well behind his position now. What he really needed to make this breakout count was a third division, and he sent word to Dempsey to do everything possible to free something up.

  “Lucky?” he said, being familiar enough with Miles Dempsey to use his nickname. “We’ve hit the first wicket. But I just got that report of the German column to my south. What can you send me? I can’t very well make my turn here with Jerry behind me.”

  “You know I haven’t any more infantry,” said Dempsey. “I’d love to send the Canadians, but they’re right up against the German 5th Paras. However, the Yanks have gotten wind of your breakout, and they went and pulled 7th and 9th Armored divisions right off the line to move them northeast. Sorry, but you’ll just have to watch your backside if you turn. There’s nothing else for it.”

  “Damn!” said Adair. “They’ve already tried to steal the show on me. I had to shepherd a stray Yank infantry battalion out of here an hour ago.”

  “Well, if they do sent both those divisions, then I think it may be better if they turn north for Antwerp. That will leave you free to go right on through Ypres to Lille. I’ll see what General Clark is up to here, and keep you informed.”

  Clark’s logic was simple. They had been butting heads with the Germans here for nearly three weeks, and this was finally their chance to move on the principle objective, Antwerp. Ten days earlier orders had come to quietly replace all airborne divisions on the line with newly arrived infantry. The paras had been shipped back across the Channel to Britain, where a host of C-47’s was gathering for a very special mission.

  Eisenhower had asked Monty about it, wanting the new Field Marshall’s touch and opinion on the prospect of doing something bold with the Airborne Corps. Now that plan was on the table at SHAEF, and all it was going to take was the go ahead from Ike.

  Chapter 20

  O’Connor’s “one last push” achieved much more than he expected. Cross river assaults were dicey, and the enemy had hotly contested every attempt. Yet when 3rd Infantry crossed east of Sully sur Loire, they achieved a rapid and solid bridgehead. 4th Armored Brigade had tried for the main bridge at the town, but could not take it. It was the only bridge that remained standing, and their constant watch on it had prevented several enemy attempts to mount demolition charges.

  5th Infantry had obtained a very small bridgehead west of the town, and now they also made a last push to see if they could get that main bridge. It took a five battalion assault, on both sides of the bridge, and directly across it, to finally dislodge the stubborn defense by 4th Langenargen Battalion of the Brandenburg Division. Now, with Sully in hand, and bridgeheads to either side, O’Connor made a concerted effort to join these three inroads into one good lodgment north of the river. His success would soon become a problem for Montgomery, odd as that seemed.

  Monty was surprised when Alan Brooke appeared before he boarded his plane for Southern France, and with some very bad news.

  “I’m afraid we’re going to have to thin your ranks,” he said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I’ll make it simple. Eisenhower no doubt expressed the importance of Antwerp to our future plans, and things seem to be loosening up in the Pas-de-Calais. Our armor there has been able to punch through the enemy line, but the problem is that we haven’t anything to exploit any advantaged gained. They’ve only got 15 divisions there, and it simply isn’t enough.”

  “You mean to say your taking forces from me? Now? Just when I’m set to go for Dijon?”

  “I’m afraid it’s absolutely necessary. I’m going to have to ask you for 11th Armored, and one infantry division. Ike and I discussed it yesterday and came to an agreement.”

  “Damn!” said Monty. “How am I supposed to fight this war? The lack of support from SHAEF has been appalling—now this!”

  “I understand how you may feel, but there it is. Without more punch up north, we’ll be stuck. The whole purpose of landing in the Pas-de-Calais was to put us in a position to go for Antwerp. Surely you can understand that. In fact, it was your own recommendation.”

  Montgomery folded his arms, scowling, for Brooke’s logic was unassailable. “Why don’t you get what you need from Patton?”

  It was a fair question, but Brooke’s answer was quite blunt. “I’ve spoken to the Prime Minister on this. The simple fact is that both Patton and O’Connor are gaining ground. You feed a fire, Monty. It’s that simple.”

  “Well, If I had what I needed here I could be in Germany by now.”

  “Yes, you have good proximity to the German frontier, but you can’t go it alone, Monty. If we endorse that as the main effort, then We’d have to stop O’Connor and turn him east. Quite frankly, Eisenhower, Churchill, and I all want him pushing north, for the Seine. Make the arrangements on those transfers, will you? And Monty. We’ll make it up to you. That I can promise you.”

  Montgomery was flabbergasted. It wasn’t simply Patton hogging all the resources. Now the Prime Minister was sticking his thumb in his tea. Losing 11th Armored was going to put an end to his plan to go for Dijon, and he felt particularly bitter about it. Brooke had also told him he was to be promoted to Field Marshal, a consolation prize that made him feel like he had simply been kicked upstairs and put out to pasture. The Rock of the East and West was feeling quite glum. Montgomery had returned from his meeting with Eisenhower and Brooke in Dunkerque, disgruntled and restless.

  Back at his headquarters, the newly crowned Field Marshal had nothing to do, but one look at the map told him that O’Connor did have a real opportunity where he was now near Orleans. Monty had “borrowed” half of O’Connor’s infantry earlier, pulling in the 15th Scottish and 43rd Wessex Divisions in his push to Roanne. Now even he could see that, given the supply situation, a division of their efforts was not wise. If he went for Dijon, it might make for a good right hand pincer, as he had argued with Eisenhower. But if O’Connor could really get a breakthrough on his front, then he could take his own advice and mount one big push in the north, aimed at Sens and then Troyes. He decided to do what Brooke had said, and feed a fire, but in fact, he was planning to steal a little of O’Connor’s thunder.

  “Richie?” he said, calling O’Connor the previous day. “I’m coming to see you tomorrow with all the news of my meeting with Ike. We’ll have to put our heads together and see what we can do.”

  So while O’Connor expected Montgomery to arrive soon, he had no idea that he would come at the head of a full corps. 43rd Wessex was in the van, the pipes wailing and the drums beating as the division marched smartly up the road to Sully. And there was Monty, standing up through the open hatch of a ram Kangaroo. O’Connor came out to greet him.

  “I thought I’d return the books you lent me,” said Monty with a grin. “The Scots are right behind this one, and then I’ve seen fit to bring another entire corps. The Northumbrians and Highlanders are coming, along with Bobby and the Rats. That should do the trick, wouldn’t you think?”

  ‘Bobby’ was, of course, General George Watkin Eben James Erskine, his names piled up like cars on a freight train, and he was the commander of the famous 7th Armored Division, the Desert Rats. Not only had Monty returned the two divisions he filched, he was paying handsome interest by moving the heart of his own 10th Army, the best divisions at his disposal.

  “You’re coming with five full divisions?” O’Connor was quite surprised.

  “That I am, my good man. Things have been too sticky out east, so I thought we’d shift the balance.”

  �
�But what about your push for Dijon?”

  “Nothing happening there,” said Monty. “I left seven divisions with Kirkman and Allfrey, and the three Canadian Divisions to mind the front—two now, actually. I’m sending one home for the Pas-de-Calais. We simply haven’t the supplies and fuel to do anything more on that front and still keep you moving. So I thought I might lend a hand here and see if we can’t both put our shoulders to the door and get over this damn river.”

  Later the two men huddled in O’Connor’s HQ to hash things out. “If I could have wrangled away the necessary fuel and supply, then going for Dijon made perfect sense,” said Monty. “As things stand, I could only keep three or four divisions in the attack out east. The rest were merely holding the front. So I thought it better to pool our supplies here, as you already had two good armored divisions in the fight. Erskine’s chaps will be the icing on the cake, and now we have solid British infantry.”

  “I must say that things here have been touch and go,” said O’Connor. “I pushed through to the river easily enough, and then got stuck. We’ve been trying to scratch our way across at three or four places, but today I finally got firm footing at Sully sur Loire. We’re across, and in good force.”

  “Have you got the bridge?”

  “That we have.”

  “Splendid! Then put 43rd Wessex right across tonight, pipes and all. That’ll put the fear of the Lord into the Germans.”

  “The latest patrols say Jerry’s been falling back. There’s heavy woodland backing the river here.”

  “All the more reason to get the infantry forward,” said Monty. “That will give us the time to reorganize the armor. Are you coordinating the French?”

  “Actually, they come under Bradley’s 5th Army. Leclerc is a bit feisty, but he got stuck as well, at Jargeal and points west.”

  “Well, now that you’ve got your bridgehead, it will simply be a matter of stuffing it full and leaning on them, with all the artillery we can keep firing in support. I’ve brought more than the troops, Richie. The lion’s share of all I’ve been able to bunker in supply is in the train heading our way as we speak.”

  “What will the rest of your Army do?”

  “Sit on their hind ends,” said Monty, a disapproving look on his face. “Ike’s been feeding Patton, and we’ll be lucky to keep this half of our forces moving as things stand now. I did manage to extract a promise that he would support my drive on Dijon. There’s a convoy coming, so we can count on something in the pipeline if we get things moving here. The way I see things now, if we can push on through the woods north of the river, then we want Montarois and the road to Sens. The next stop there is Troyes, and we will have cut off their entire defense in front of Dijon.”

  “What about Paris?” said O’Connor.

  “Ike doesn’t want it. He’s going to bypass the city and attempt to cross the Seine at Rouen. From there he wants to send Patton to Amiens and a possible linkup with 1st Army in the Pas-de-Calais.”

  “Then why should we go running off to the northeast?” asked O’Connor. “Wouldn’t it be better to envelop Paris? If you want your full blooded thrust, that looks to be the closest thing we’ll ever see of that strategy. If we stay closer to Paris, we’ll be a right pincer to Patton’s left, but you know damn well that he’ll want to turn east after he crosses the Seine. We need to get up there fast to stay in the race, two horses hitched to the same chariot, side by side. I have the feeling Ike just threw you a bone because you were insisting on taking Dijon.”

  “Yes, the scoundrel promised me fuel for that operation, and then Brookie came in to say he was pilfering 11th Armored for the Pas-de-Calais! It’s maddening. That put an end to the whole Dijon operation. Our only real opportunity is here, on your front.”

  “Glad to have your support,” said O’Connor, “but consider what I’ve suggested. If we push north, then we’ve got the inside track when this whole thing turns east for Germany. Patton will be covering our left, and all we have to do is screen off the Ardennes with a few infantry divisions. Then we go right for the jugular—the Ruhr.”

  The light in O’Connor’s eye was catching, and Monty was beginning to see the logic in what he was saying. Ike wouldn’t feed his horses. In fact, he went so far as to steal one from the barn! Now he had to come here, hat in hand, looking to ride O’Connor’s mare to the county fair, but Richie was being very big about it, even if he was obviously horning in on his operation. If they did go north instead of northeast, they would indeed be in a very good position relative to Patton. They could go for Reims, but then they would be looking at the Ardennes, a great wedge of mountainous woodland blocking their way. The advance would either have to swing around it through Charleroi, Namur, and Liege to Aachen, or divert east through Verdun, Metz, and Saarbrucken. That would likely be decided later, but the ‘Full Blooded Thrust’ plan Montgomery had advocated would favor the former route.

  “That has real merit,” said Monty. “Yet Paris has a rather intense gravity. We mustn’t allow ourselves to get pulled in there.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about that,” said O’Connor. “Leclerc will be frothing at the bit to be the first Allied unit to liberate the capitol. We’ll just swing up to the Seine, and force our crossing east of the city—hopefully before Patton does the same at Rouen.”

  The next morning, the British would take a battering ram to the German line north of Sully. Like a castle wall, it had thin walls of infantry, scattered detachments from the 98th, 111th, and 226th Divisions, buttressed by battalions from the two Brandenburg Brigades, but it could not hold. The assault by 3rd, 5th and 43rd Wessex, backed by the 4th Armored Brigade, was simply too much to contain. So instead of stewing near Chalon and feeling useless and forsaken, Monty was with O’Connor that day, peering through field glasses and finally feeling he was back in the war.

  There were still three strong divisions coming up from the south, led by 7th Armored Brigade, and so now the Field Marshal was buoyed up, and feeling he had real power in hand. His decision to forsake his drive on Dijon, consolidate all available supply, and reinforce here, was wise selfishness on his part. He wanted in on the action O’Connor had forced, but it was the smartest play he could have made.

  As the German 111th Infantry fell back, the 5th British Division pressed them hard, clearing the road north through the woods and forming a solid shoulder for the bridgehead. 3rd British Infantry did the same, following the Brandenburgers into the woods northeast of Sully. That left 4th Armored Brigade and the 43rd Wessex to push on up the road, with was now blocked by only a single battalion of the Langenargen Brigade. 4th Armored Brigade pressed on after dusk, and hit them right at the edge of the woods, which extended about five kilometers north. They would stop there, not wanting to try that road in the dark. The German infantry melted away into the shadows, and the wind rose, stirring the trees in a way that seemed almost ghostly. So the stage would be set to commit the 43rd Wessex Division the following morning.

  That night, General Erskine’s 7th Armored Came up, with the 7th Armored Brigade attached in the van. It was like water building up behind a weakening levy, and Monty and O’Connor hoped to unleash their flood tide the following day. The German 272nd Infantry Division, arriving from the southeast, came up to form a secondary line in the thick woods, and this allowed the Brandenburgers to pull out and regroup at Lorris to the north. That would at least block the road to Montarois with a strong force, but the road due north through the woods was a danger point. It led up to Bellegarde, and beyond that town the ground was much more open, perfect for the British armor.

  With reconnaissance indicating the enemy mechanized forces were concentrating at Lorris, O’Connor got news that the intrepid 5th Infantry had pushed right through the German 111th on his left. The road there ran parallel to the river to the northwest to Chateau sue Loire, where the French had been unable to secure a bridgehead for Leclerc’s armor.

  Hearing the guns the following morning, Monty and O’Connor wen
t forward to look the situation over. “That road due north through the woods could be a thick patch if we try to push the armor that way,” said O’Connor.

  “Yes,” said Monty. “Better to send in the Wessex Division there, but this push by 5th Infantry has opened a way to the northwest. Let’s send Erskine that way.”

  “Speak of the devil,” said O’Connor. It was general Erskine, having just crossed the river at Sully at the head of his division.

  “Hello Bobby!” said Monty. “You’ll find the accommodations much to your liking on the left. Don’t bother with Chateau sur Loire. Just follow the Prior and then turn north.”

  ‘The Prior’ was Brigadier Sir Otho Leslie Prior-Palmer, commanding 7th Armored Brigade, which had already surged through the break in the enemy line and was plowing right into the German artillery park north of Chateau sur Loire. Erskine tipped his hat, tapped the armored Car he was riding in, and the whole of his division began rumbling by, the armor in the lead, with the infantry following in Kangaroos.

  “Well,” said O’Connor. “A fine lot they are, but when Jerry gets wind of what we’ve done here, they’ll likely move those mechanized troops to Bellegarde. Once the 5th clears the squatters out of Chateau sur Loire, then Leclerc can get moving again with his armored division. We might want to get hold of General Bradley, and see if we can have the French transferred to our command.”

  “Splendid idea,” said Monty. “They can cover our left, and in no time they’ll be smelling the perfume in Paris. Once that happens, the dog will be off the leash. Leclerc can be quite headstrong.”