Able Sentry

by John Schettler

  To do this, Brigadiers Pierce and Hale put their heads together and decided on the obvious. They would pull together the companies of the Royal Wessex Yeomanry, and mass all those Challengers to drive right down the main road to King’s Cross. That heavy battalion had 49 tanks operational, which could mass to deliver a devastating assault when called upon.

  Kinlan’s attack started rolling in west of El Adem at 03:00. The enemy had taken up positions at Bir Nezuet Ahmed on the far west end of their line, with two more companies extending east to Sidi Han Hun. Kinlan had thought hard about this fight. He could hit that flank, screen it off, and then keep maneuvering around El Adem towards Tobruk, but this would leave the bulk of the Egyptian formation unengaged. It could then join with the pursuing troops of General Abdul Salid’s 3rd Mech, and there would be a whole division after them as they sought to break into Tobruk from the south.

  As the lines of tanks and Warriors started to move to the attack, Kinlan looked up to see the helicopters bringing Major Kamp’s 3 Para battalion forward to land them behind the enemy, where they could block units to the east from intervening in the battle on that flank.

  As the wave of steel rolled forward, it smashed into the enemy line like heavy cavalry. The initial collision forced two of the three Egyptian companies engaged to fold back, refusing the flank to cover El Adem. This left the western company isolated, and it beat a hasty retreat north, reaching a high point at hill 167 to regroup.

  Realizing what the British were doing, the commander of the 510th RG, Brigadier General Farid al Hashim, immediately ordered companies on his eastern flank to move rapidly west along the road to El Adem. There they ran into C-Company of Kemp’s Paras, and stopped to organize for an attack. Behind El Adem, Egyptian self-propelled guns started lobbing artillery rounds through the darkness, not really having any precise targets.

  The British attack surged ahead, crossing the fabled road called Trigh Capuzzo in the last war, and then driving into that fight where C-Company was defending. Reeves and the rest of the Paras formed a shield screening off El Adem, and at that hour, as the skies were starting to gain early light, the breakout attack started at King’s Cross.

  The Challengers ground their way past the old WWII cemetery, and drove all before them, war elephants that could not be stopped. At the same time, the Gurkhas joined Hale’s Paras to widen the breach. The ten Challengers of the Royal Cloucester Company broke through up the road to the south, driving off remnants of an Egyptian mech company.

  The commander of the besieging Egyptian 2nd Mech Division, General Muhamed Al Kouri, now realized what the British were doing. He also saw that if they succeeded, the independent 36th Armored Brigade, and his 712th Mech Brigade would be cut off west of the road to Tobruk, with his remaining forces to the east. He would also see a lot of his artillery isolated to the west.

  Eventually, no matter what the outcome here, we must all go back to Egypt, he thought. The news from the Suez region is not heartening. The Israelis and Americans have crossed to either side of the Great Bitter Lake, and Cairo is now threatened. I do not think the enemy will want to go there, but we will undoubtedly receive orders to withdraw east to Egypt again, and soon….

  He decided to pull those two western brigades out while he still could, and then he would seek to confer with General Salid and General Farid al Hashim. They had a great deal of force here, but what were they doing? What did the British come here for? Surely this small force had never intended to attack Egypt in earnest. It went to their oil field at Sultan Apache, rescued their civilians, and now they were trying to get them safely out of Libya.

  “Must we continue to fight here?” he asked when the generals met an hour later.

  “Honor demands it, said the commander of the Republican Guard Brigade, General Farid al Hashim.

  “Honor demands many things,” said Al Kouri. “But as long as we stay here, they will hound and harry us with their aircraft.”

  “Not if we destroy them.”

  “Oh?” General Hashim was adamant. “Well, I am the senior officer here, even though you serve in the Guard. I have just spoken to Cairo, and you will be surprised to learn that the rest of your division is assembling on the eastern edge of the city to defend it! In fact, I would expect your brigade would be recalled before noon.”

  “Yet we cannot leave the British here,” said Hashim.

  “Why not? This is Libya, not Egypt. Here is what I propose. Let us parley with the British, and see what they really intend. If it is as I suspect, that they merely wanted to rescue those hostages, then let us negotiate. Let them go to Tobruk if they wish, and as far as I care, they can sit there as long as they wish. There is nothing the Libyans can do about it, and why should our men sacrifice themselves to liberate a Libyan city? As long as we stay close, they will hound us with their fighters, but if we permit them to withdraw, which is what I believe they desire now, then we must ask for a cease fire in return—and that means no further air strikes. This will allow us to obey the orders I am certain we will soon receive, and return to Egypt. General Salid?”

  Abdul Salid stroked his dark beard.

  “I have brought two brigades of my 3rd Mech Division all the way from the Nile. The third sits on Sultan Apache, and it is ours now. They will never have it again. That alone is worth billions, is it not? They came here, surprising us with this rash attack, and yes, my soul wants to get after them, and punish them severely. That said, I think if we attack them in earnest, we will lose a good many more men, and much more equipment. If it is as you predict, that Cairo orders us to move east into Egypt again, how much will be left when we get there? So I will agree with you, General Al Kouri. Let us parley with them. We will certainly learn their intentions, yet even if we determine they have come here to pose a threat to our western border, I still believe that is where we should redeploy. Yes, we will not fight to liberate Tobruk. Leave it to the Libyans.”

  It was decided.

  At 09:00 on the morning of the 12th of January, Brigadier Kinlan was contacted by radio with a request to meet with the Egyptian commanders. To show good will, the Egyptians said they would withdraw east of Sidi Mahmud, and suggested King’s Cross be the site for the parley. In return, Kinlan agreed to contact his air assets and have them suspend air strikes pending the outcome of these talks.

  “Sims, he said. “We’re back, and within a stone’s throw from Tobruk. Now let’s see if we can wag our way out of this mess.”

  He smiled.

  Chapter 24

  The Generals would meet at the site of the WWII Cemetery, still intact, though some of the fallen had heard the rumble and ruckus of war overhead as they slept. The grinding of the tank tracks and chatter of the machineguns was the old familiar chorus they had all lived and died by. Beneath the solitary commemorative stone cross, Kinlan pointed to the words inscribed below, and spoke.

  “Their name liveth for evermore,” he said, as the Arabic translator repeated his words to the three Egyptian Generals. “And as we stand here, I must say in all earnest that it is not my wish to bury any more of my people here. We came for the living, and we have already lost far too many in this operation. And now we wish to leave these shores, and let the dead sleep in peace again.”

  “And far too many of our men have fallen here as well,” said Muhamed al Kouri. “So I will ask you, General Kinlan, what is it you intend, beyond the insult you have already given here?”

  “As I have said, to leave the dead, and you, in peace. My mission was to recover and safely return here with all British nationals being illegally held at the Sultan Apache site. International law expressly forbids the taking of civilian hostages.”

  “They were our guests, and it was not Egypt that started this conflict.”

  “That is arguable,” said Kinlan. “Were not your ships at sea in the Med? Didn’t you send those missiles at Malta? How did you suppose it would be answered? Surely you did not expect the United Kingdom to overlook it. So do not spea
k of insults given here. My mission was just.”

  “And yet you invade and disturb the sovereignty of not one, but two Arab countries to carry it out.”

  “Our government asked politely,” said Kinlan. “I’m the man they send when words fail and further action is required. You have illegally seized the facilities at Sultan Apache, owned by the British Petroleum Company, and threatened the lives and wellbeing of their people there. It could not be overlooked. That said, you will have noted by now that I left all the men we found there from your 222nd Brigade in good condition. None were harmed, and none taken as hostages, as per international law. Nor do we want any prisoners.”

  “You left those that survived your brash onslaught,” said General Abdul Salid. Those heavy tanks against lightly armed commandos. It was not a fair fight, which is why I came here from the Nile.”

  “Yes,” Kinlan replied. “men died, but on both sides, and it wasn’t necessary.”

  “And what of the Americans, and their lapdogs, the Israelis? They make war on Egypt as we speak.”

  “Then go and fight them,” said Kinlan. “We are an all British force. If we can reach an accommodation here, then no more blood need be shed, or lives lost for this hallowed ground.”

  “You would give your word to withdraw from these shores?”

  “That is our intention, but we can’t very well conduct a safe withdrawal while you stand in siege, and we are under your guns.”

  “And what if we have no intention to allow you to leave?” said Salid. “What if it is our will that you should all be punished for what you have done here?”

  “Then I’m afraid you have a battle on your hands, and Generals, I have 80 of the finest tanks on earth at my disposal, and an air force that will give you no rest, night or day. If you want a fight here, we’ll damn well give you one. The choice is yours.”

  There was silence for a moment. Then General Al Kouri spoke again. “As to this air force,” he began. “If we agree to withdraw to Egypt, we would not wish to do so under your bombs either. This is Libya. We are here only because you are here. If you go, then we go as well, but not if you think to harass us night and day with your fighters. In that event, I would prefer to fight here to the bitter end.”

  “But General,” said Kinlan, seeing the opening here. “I obtained a cease fire from our navy and air force to permit this discussion. If I could see that extended to allow you to withdraw from this ground in peace, would you accept that offer? If so, then we will board our ships and leave the way we came.”

  “And go to Israel? To Sinai? Will you then join your American friends to attack us in the east?”

  “General, as you well know, where I am ordered to go after this is not mine to decide. Who knows, if we can reach an accommodation here, then others may see that negotiation is far to be preferred as opposed to the fighting and dying on your eastern frontier. What I can assure you here, and in this I have complete authority, is that British forces will pose no further threat to your western frontier. We wish only to leave, and we have already agreed to pay just reparations to the Libyan Government for the use of their port.”

  “And what of just reparations to Egypt for the bother and pain you have caused us?” It was General Salid again, still angry that he had to take his division over 500 miles through the desert to reach this place, and never had a chance to take his enemy by the throat.

  “I will tell you what this will cost you,” he continued, his eyes narrowing. “Sultan Apache! You have seen the last of it, General. British Petroleum has seen the last of it as well. Egypt will nationalize it, as is our right, and if you ever come here again, then no parley will stay my hand again. Understand?”

  Kinlan raised his chin. “That is a negotiation above my pay grade, General, and perhaps above yours as well. We must leave the fate of those facilities to our respective governments. In the meantime, will you agree to the proposal I have made—to maintain a cease fire, while both sides conduct and honorable withdrawal? You will permit us to embark safely, and we will not strike you by air as you return to Egypt. Fair enough?”

  General Al Kouri looked from one to the other, knowing all along that it was as he had said it would be, for he already had an order to withdraw in his back pocket. This meeting was to serve honor, and also to try and obtain this cease fire, so his columns would not be butchered by the enemy warhawks.

  “Very well, General Kinlan. We will agree to this proposal. May we say that the cease fire should extend no less than 48 hours? Is that sufficient time for you to complete your withdrawal?”

  “I should think so,” said Kinlan.

  “Yet one thing more,” Al Kouri raised a finger. “We cannot speak for the Libyans. Should they interfere, and break the cease fire agreement, that cannot be our responsibility, and I would expect you would still abide by the terms of this agreement.”

  “Do not worry, General. Once you move east, and the Libyans see you gone, then they will also see those 80 tank barrels I have in hand pointed their way, and I do not think they will wish to interfere here further. We will leave their city in peace…. And these honored fallen will be left in peace as well,” he gestured to the grave sites. “Do not forget that they died defending both Libya and Egypt from the Nazis, in better days, when our countries were friends. War is war, and one thing is certain in that sad business—good men and women die. I am glad we have chosen not to increase their numbers here. Go in peace.”

  He extended his hand.

  * * *

  Whether or not the Egyptian would be so amenable in the east remained to be seen. Their army had been driven back across the Suez Canal, and the Western Coalition had two strong bridgeheads on either side of the Great Bitter Lake. The southern bridgehead was the deepest, already extending 20 miles on the Geneva Road. In the north, in a much more concentrated bridgehead, the American 4th Heavy Infantry Division had defeated elements of the Egyptian 19th Mech Division, and had a clear path to Cairo. The only Egyptian positions that looked strong were those north of Lake Timash.

  Now Allied planners were realizing the true difficulty of the mission they had undertaken here. Even an Egyptian Army that had been clearly bested in the field and relentlessly forced to withdraw, was still a large and potentially dangerous force, and not easily moved. As long as any of it remained within artillery range of the Suez Canal, that vital waterway could not be opened or used by any shipping. The question now was how to move that Army.

  The two southern bridgeheads had been obtained with a combination of surprise and preponderance of force, yet the odds were more even north of Lake Timash and Ismailia, and it would not be easy to force crossings there. Furthermore, there was only one road to Port Sa’id, the northern entrance to the canal on the Med, and it was on the Egyptian side of the canal. The port itself was surrounded on three sides by water and deep marshland, and not conducive to amphibious assault or airborne landings, except by helicopter. An assault operation using commandos in light craft and airmobile troops on helos was the only option, but even with that in hand, there was still that Army behind the canal.

  That force was now a jumble of the 6th and 21st Armored Divisions, 6th, 16th and 18th Mech Divisions, the 218th Independent Brigade from Alexandria, and the 1st Special Forces Corps, which had three brigades. It’s lines now extended from El Qantara in the north, along the canal to Ismailia on Lake Timash, and then folded back along the east-west Sweetwater Canal. If it could not be compelled to move away from the Suez Canal, it would take a very strong attack from the south out of those bridgeheads to pry it loose.

  General Isaac Meyr. Commanding the Sons of Light in the south explained the last option to US 4th Division Commander, Peter Rawlings. South of Ismailia there was only one full Egyptian Division, the 19th Mech, augmented by Marine and special forces battalions. As it fell back between the two bridgeheads, it enabled the US and Israeli forces to link up. Behind the 19th Mech, there was only the last two brigades of the Republican Guard, and
they were in Cairo.

  “We could take the fight right to Cairo, the heart of the Egyptian government, and force them to see things our way.”

  “Cairo? You must be kidding, General. That’s the largest city on the continent, over 20 million people. Try to get in there and we’ll have every disaffected man of military age coming at us from three directions. It will be an urban nightmare, the worst possible ground I could imagine. No sir, I have no authorization to take 4th ID into a situation like that. But do you play poker, General Meyr? Perhaps if we continue to move aggressively on Cairo, we could put the fear of the lord into them. Yet this could become the military ruse it is. What if they don’t spook, and stand their ground in Cairo, daring us to enter that morass? In that event, the maneuver towards Cairo does nothing to clear the middle and upper Suez Canal, which is the entire object of this campaign.”

  “I understand what you are saying,” said Meyr, “but General, I have lived in this region all my life. Suppose we do clear that canal to a point where it might be opened again. As long as we still have a hostile Egyptian government, with any kind of an army at its disposal, then what? Are you expecting the Israeli Army to sit here guarding the canal indefinitely? I can tell you right now that will not go over well back home. This was an unpopular war for us, and we undertook it with great reluctance. But here we are. How long we stay is another matter. Are you willing to sit here with your division and guard the canal? If so, you will need at least two more divisions here, which means no one goes to Iraq. So you see, this needs a political solution. We have reached the canal, yet we still do not control it, and I can tell you without reservation that unless the Egyptians agree, it will never be really safe for commercial, or even military ship traffic again.”

  Those were sobering words, but from a realist, who knew the region well, and could clearly see the limits of what the military could do here. General Rawlings took another angle.