Able Sentry

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Able Sentry Page 18

by John Schettler


  “What about the prisoners, sir?”

  “Get them to the barracks, lock the in the rooms there, and that will be the end of it. They can wait for their 3rd Mech Division to come rescue them.”

  “Then we leave Sultan Apache to the Egyptians?”

  “What else?” said Kinlan. “The CEO of the place wasn’t very happy about it, but there’s nothing else to be done. We can’t hunker down out here, because the Egyptians could start moving more forces our way, and just keeping us supplied would be quite a throw. So we stay on mission as planned. We have our people, and now we get up north.”

  “Any word from Tobruk, sir?”

  “Yes, but none of it is good news. The Egyptians brought up their entire 2nd Mech Division, and another armored brigade. The Libyans finally took offense too, and they’ve got forces on the coast road to the west of the city. We’re damn lucky we added 11th Brigade infantry there before we ran this mission, and I managed to wrangle the reserve armored battalion from division, but it may not be enough. The latest report is that another brigade sized force just pulled into Sidi Suliman by rail, so the Egyptians are doubling down. They crossed the border yesterday, and they’ve been forming for an attack on Tobruk, so we need to get down there as soon as we possibly can. We may have to fight our way back into the port. There’s plenty of fuel here, so I want every vehicle topped off and ready to go in line of march by 18:00.”

  As always, the line of march was Reeves in front with the Royal Lancers, followed closely by the tanks of the Royal Dragoon Guards. 4th Scotts was next in line to escort the British nationals, as they had not been engaged, and then 1st Scots would be the tail of the column, and serve as a rearguard. It was possible that the Egyptians might try to pursue them north with that 3rd Mech Division, but that remained to be seen.

  Sir Douglas had been unable to find his cell phone, disgruntled that he could not bend a few ears and see if he could keep Kinlan’s brigade where it was. Instead he collected everything of value left untouched by the Egyptians, mostly documents, reports, and computer devices. He would box them up and get them on those trucks with his people, a caravan of more than 50 vehicles now. The thought of leaving an investment of several hundred million pounds behind galled him, but there was nothing he could do.

  So it’s war, he thought, and I suppose that Brigadier is correct. We were lucky he was able to get down here and rescue us—a damn cheeky operation. Perhaps when I get back to England, I can see about plans to come back. We won’t just make the Egyptians a gift of Sultan Apache. No sir, that is not going to happen.

  As the sun lowered, painting the western horizon scarlet and amber, Kinlan’s column had formed up for the long night journey north. Hale’s Brigade was lifting into the skies, the heavy helos carrying off vehicles and the artillery, which dangled beneath them on long cables. This time, Kinlan hoped the way would be faster, particularly with the 16th Air Assault posted at intervals along the road. Hale had sent 1st Para Battalion and the Gurkhas all the way to Tobruk to bolster the defense there, using the other two Para Battalions for that road duty. If experience was a guide, it could take them all of two days to get north, but Kinlan hoped to cut that time down considerably. As the grey folded itself over the land, the skies slowly darkening, Kinlan turned to Sims.

  “Get them moving,” he said. “We’ve along way to go.”

  * * *

  When the Egyptian 714th Mech Brigade finally reached Sultan Apache, they found the place empty, except for groups of now unarmed special forces troops that had broken out of the barracks.

  “Where were you?” they complained. “They had scores of tanks and APC’s and we couldn’t stop them.”

  “Where are they now?” asked the brigade commander.

  “They left at dusk, that way. Will you pursue them? If so, then we will ride the backs of your tanks, and get our revenge.”

  “I have no such orders,” said the Brigadier, “nor do you. Look around you. The ground you are standing on is worth billions, and now it is all ours again. You were sent here to defend it, and those are my orders as well.”

  “Then we will just let them go?”

  “No, the rest of the division went to Siwa to liberate that place, and I am told General Abdul Salid will pursue them from that road. We stay here… Now, is there food here? If so, my men are hungry. We get the fat on the lamb this time around. 715th Brigade and 11th Armored get the long road north.” He gave the trooper a toothy smile.

  * * *

  When General Abdul Salid of the 3rd Mech Division arrived at Siwa, he would get an earful from all the locals over what had happened there, but they were heartened that the Army had finally come.

  “We have chased them off!” he said as his tanks rolled in past the old city center to Fort Siwa. “We have taken their oil fields—our oil fields—and we will keep them. Now they run north like dogs, and soon we will pursue them!”

  Always good to make a clear defeat into a victory in the minds of the unknowing, he thought. The arrogance of the British! They invade Libya, cross our frontier, and come all the way here, simply to save those oil workers. The fools leave the greater prize behind them as they go, and now Sultan Apache is ours, this time for good. The government will nationalize the place, and my men will guard it well this time.

  So we will find whatever fuel we can, as my tanks and APC’s are thirsty. It is good those infernal planes have ceased their attacks. They may have things to kill up north. There must be gasoline and diesel fuel at those oil fields, so I will rest three hours here, then take my column up the road to Sultan Apache. At dawn, we follow the British north, and if they tarry on their way, I will nip at their heels like a pack of desert jackals. And we will make them pay for this insult, as Allah is my witness.

  * * *

  General Muhamad Al Kouri was a short man, but one with ceaseless energy for his years. His hair was prematurely grey, and he had lost most of it on top, but that didn’t matter. He always wore his cap, and desert fatigues, and the smell of the sand flats and desert scrub was home to him. He had brought his division all the way from Alexandria, most of that route by rail to the train station at Sidi Suliman, and not without considerable losses.

  Our air force lasted 48 hours, he thought. Now their planes will be bombing us at will, but we have six brigades here, and one more Libyan unit, and they have just one brigade at Tobruk. Those are very good odds for us, and their planes cannot hold that city. We have the 129th Special Force Brigade behind us, and with helicopters, and now the 510th Mech Brigade has reached Sidi Suliman.

  I have 10th Armored Brigade ready to lead from Gambut. 712th Mech Brigade is on the secondary road to the south, and I have put 713th Mech Brigade on the road to the airfield complex at El Adem, with the independent 36th Armored Brigade further south on the road to Bir el Gobi. We will sweep in from the eastern desert like hordes of warriors on chariots, and cut the roads running south from Tobruk. These four columns will drive the British outlying defenses before them like a wind of steel.

  I am told the British force that so brazenly violated our sovereignty is now coming north again to try and make good its escape. Like thieves in the night, yes? So once they take Bir el Gobi, the tanks of 36th Armored will form a blocking position on the road, and stop those bastards. They can collect the Libyan militias and fighters to help them. Then the rest of our forces will have but one desire—Tobruk. Western armies have come to our lands at their whim, and taken anything they wished, ever since that brigand Napoleon landed on these shores. Now we will teach them a lesson. We will humble them, and parade their captured soldiers for the television cameras.

  06:00 10 JAN 2026

  First contact in the north was made just about sunrise, by a company of 12 Ramses tanks from 30th Armored Battalion of the Egyptian 712th Mech Brigade. They were 25 kilometers east of El Adem airfield, near the famous WWII site of Sidi Rezegh. The column halted, the leading tank commander up in the open turret hatch, peering through h
is binoculars. It was infantry, he determined, and they were up near the escarpment that fringed the road to Sidi Rezegh.

  He decided to call for artillery to see what resulted, and an SPG battery put in several rounds, doing little harm by managing to knock out a medium MG position. Expecting return fire, the tanker was met instead with stony silence. Whoever was up there was dug in, and waiting for him, and they were well disciplined after his test.

  The Egyptian tanks had made contact with the Gurkha Battalion. They were stopped without even firing, and then the Gurkhas melted away in the pre-dawn darkness. There were two hills behind them, the 154 meter rise of Belhamed, which was right on the southern flank of 40 Commando where they were defending on the main coast road at Al Qa’arah. The second hill was Ed Dudu, 150 meters frowning over the roads west to El Adem. Three of the four Gurkha companies took positions on these hills, and D company moved to a prepared fallback position on the road itself near the farm of el Amar.

  Like Buford’s cavalry at Gettysburg, the light airmobile forces had swept in from the southern desert on their helicopters, to take up these blocking positions. El Adem airfield and town was now defended by Captain Williams and his 1st Paras, and they were not alone. Two battalions of Attack Helos had come north with them, and now the Egyptian tankers heard the hard thumping in the air and knew what was coming.

  “Charger One, this is Warhorse. Ready to engage.”

  “Roger that, Warhorse. Cleared hot.”

  The Hellfire missiles streaked from the hovering Apache’s, making for the point of three separate Egyptian columns that had been seen by the drones. The Gurkhas had moved away to get a safe distance from the tanks that approached them. Now those artillery rounds would be answered by Hellfire.

  The Gurkhas watched from their hills as the missiles found targets, and saw four tanks hit and burning on the road below. Eight others were knocked out at the point of the other two columns, and now they could hear the sound of jet fighters above, though no one could spot them, not with radars or the Mark-1 Eyeball. The F-35’s off Queen Elizabeth were now carrying bombs to the argument.

  Under fire from above, the Egyptian column surged ahead. The road jogged slightly right towards the heights of Ed Duda, and they saw something seem to skip its way down the slope, finding another tank and thumping down on it from above. The Gurkhas had fired a Javelin ATGM to blast another steel behemoth.

  Now the Egyptian infantry leapt from their Fahd 30 APC’s and rushed for the foot of the hill, two companies. They ran into a company of the Gurkhas, and were driven to ground with intense automatic weapons fire. Sitting right astride the road leading west to El Adem, the hill also guarded the rear of 40 Commando, which was fighting to the northeast on the main road at Al Qa’arah. The fighting there would go on all morning , but by noon, the Gurkhas were still holding firmly, an unmovable rock in the stream. But soon events in the north would force them to withdraw.

  The whole of 10th Armored Brigade was throwing itself at Al Qa’arah, with over 100 tanks. One company of 12 Challengers had come forward from Tobruk to support the commandos, and in that terrible firefight, 32 Egyptian tanks were destroyed, while the British saw 5 Challengers disabled. Without tank recovery engineers at hand, they would not be able to recover them, even if most were repairable. Against the weight of this armor, the lightly armed 40 Commando was going to have to fall back on Sidi Daud, about 8 kilometers to the rear. They radioed the Gurkhas to tell them what they were doing, as it that withdrawal would expose their rear.

  Major Ghale now had no choice, and had to abandon his positions on Hill 150. There was still good high ground behind Ed Duda Hill, and the Gurkhas conducted a swift, well organized withdrawal, racing across the road where it passed behind the hill, and up the low escarpment on the other side. That afternoon, their new line would now extend to the north to make contact with 40 Commando at Sidi Daud. It ran due south from there to Bent el Areg on that high ground, and then the lines of the British Paras ran due west just north of the road to El Adem. The Egyptian forces near Ed Duda would therefore have to run a gauntlet if they kept to that road, but there was a secondary track running parallel to the road about 2 kilometers to the south that they might use as an alternative.

  As 40 Commando redeployed, a second company of Challengers left Sidi Mahmut at 15:00, a small town that had grown up around the old road junction site the British had called “King’s Cross” in WWII. The Challengers moved up to act as a local reserve and back up 40 Commando as they got their battalion established on their new line.

  Now the British line extended in a wide arc between Sidi Daud on the coast to the Airfield at El Adem, which was already under heavy attack from the Egyptian 713th Brigade. That important airfield complex was to become the focus of their attack. They could bring 712th Brigade there from Ed Duda, and south of El Adem, their fourth column had swept through Bir el Gobi and turned north. It would arrive at El Adem in another two hours. Then that concentration of three brigades would push north for Tobruk, right up the road to King’s Cross.

  El Adem was the end of the line, with nothing to the west but a low escarpment running to Wadi ar Raml. That was all that was protecting Brigadier Hale’s right flank as the Egyptians pushed forward to the airfield late in the afternoon. To make matters worse, the Egyptian 129th Special Forces Brigade was also arriving by low flying helicopters near Belhamud, and now their Brigade commander, Hakeem Jakar, was roosting on that high point, watching his companies arrive behind him to begin moving forward towards the British positions. With everything else moving west to El Adem, they were now filling the gap in the center.

  The Egyptian 713th Mech Brigade was now preparing to race across the airfield and overrun the base. Captain Williams of 1st Para Battalion could see his position was untenable, and went back to speak with Brigadier Hale, who was 8 kilometers north at Qasr al Azazi.

  “They’re mustering like a herd of elephants, sir—elements of three brigades identified now. There’s no way we’ll stop them.”

  “Understood,” said Hale. “Alright, get your men to the north end of the town, and back to this ridge spur. We’ve got helicopters waiting for you there. But if we go, the whole lot goes, from here to the coast.”

  “Better at Tobruk, sir. We’ll fold in with 11th Brigade and make a real defense.”

  Hale nodded, accepting the necessity of the withdrawal, and then ordered messages sent to the Gurkhas and 40 Commando.

  Part VIII

  Tobruk

  “Let us never negotiate out of fear. But let us never fear to negotiate.”

  ― President John F. Kennedy

  Chapter 22

  20:00 Local, 10 JAN 2026

  The withdrawal was fast and efficient, and it radically compressed the defense as the troops redeployed to either side of King’s Cross. Only one company of Paras failed to get out, D-Company, 1st Battalion. When they reached the spur, all the helos were already full and taking off. There was nothing they could do but move on foot. They got some cover from artillery as they withdrew, but other than that, their only friend now was the night. Back at Tobruk, Brigadier Hale consulted with the garrison commander, Brigadier Eric Pierce.

  “I’ve got three battalions back to Sidi Mahmud, and with 40 Commando, that makes a good brigade. My last battalion 3 Para, is still down south patrolling the road.”

  “Good enough,” said Pierce, a tall slim man, who always wore his beret at a sharp angle. “How far west are your lines?”

  “About five or six kilometers from King’s Cross.”

  “I have tanks at the old Italian Fort Pilastrino, so they can watch your right. We’ve plenty of supply, good men on the line, so now the siege begins, I suppose. We’ll hold.”

  “Aye,” said Hale. “We’ll give them a fight alright, but they’ve probably got 70 tanks on the coast road, and at least twice that number at El Adem now.” Hale’s estimate was pretty close, but they had 42 Challengers to gird the infantry lines, and those we
re iron spikes.

  “We’re pretty tight with the defense on the western perimeter,” said Pierce. “The Libyans are out there, but they haven’t mustered the gumption to try us. Any word on Kinlan’s Brigade?”

  “3 Para reports they’ve been coming south all day today, but they say the Egyptians left a blocking force at Bir el Gobi. So I don’t think we’ll see them until late tomorrow. If the Egyptians know that, then they’ll have to come at us hard first thing in the morning.”

  “Let them try,” said Pierce. “We’ll see them off, and much the worse for their effort.”

  It was typical British stiff upper lip, but the Generals had every confidence in their men. They were well trained. Even if they were light infantry formations, they were among the best in the world, many having fought in Afghanistan in what the British called the “Taliban War.”

  That night, D Company radioed they had humped it north, but the enemy was in pursuit, and as they approached the British lines, they heard the welcome growl of Challengers. The Royal Wiltshire Company had come out to greet them, and the Paras gladly leapt aboard those tanks as they slowly backed away north, the big turrets rotating this way and that with that long ominous gun barrel keeping watch.

  06:00 11 JAN 2026

  The Egyptians regrouped that night, and into the early morning hours. Come sunrise, they were ready to advance on Tobruk. 10th Armored Brigade on the coast road had pushed up to the town of Alzitone, and put in two battalions to attack 40 Commando. In this they would be supported by the 129th Special Forces Brigade, which was on their immediate left.

  The British B-Company, 2nd Para, was in the WWII memorial cemetery near King’s Cross, the men literally in among the grave stones of their ancestors who had fallen there 80 plus years ago. As the Egyptians advanced, they opened a fusillade of automatic weapons fire, in short controlled bursts, and the enemy return fire was snapping off the tombstones.

 

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