Crescendo of Doom

Chapter 19

Brigadier Kinlan received the call from General O’Connor with some trepidation. Ever since the stunning arrival of his force, and their bludgeoning victory at Bir el Khamsa, his 7th Brigade had been an apple in the eyes of the British commanders. When Churchill saw the tanks he was thrilled, and urged both Wavell and O’Connor to make the best possible use of them.

But Kinlan knew he had a candle force here. Each time it was used, it consumed a small portion of its life and strength. He had agreed to support Operation Scimitar, sending light tanks, and then both his two heavy infantry battalions in the Warrior AFVs, and half his Challenger IIs to Syria. There they had led the attack on the vital airfield at Rayak, stopped the German counterattack with their 9th Panzer Division, and then his men were pulled off the line, replaced by a brigade from the 6th Infantry Division.

His Gurkha battalion had also been instrumental in the fighting around Damascus, though they paid for their victories in casualties. His men were only human, no matter how well armed they were, and they had already started dying. Thus far, his equipment had held up very well. Not a single Challenger II had been seriously damaged, though they did lose several Scimitar tanks and two Warrior AFVs, all more lightly armored and vulnerable to enemy AT rounds of this period. The German 88s had bruised a couple of his main battle tanks, but it could not mission kill them. The engineers looked over the composite armor, and laid on exterior armor modules to reinforce those areas weakened by the 88 rounds.

Now, with more than half Kinlan’s force still in Syria, O’Connor was calling to ask if he could make anything more available for the Operation looming to the west. Rommel was on the move again, and the British had a long week to watch his careful advance, digging in to their fortress at Tobruk and bringing up their newly reconstituted Armored forces.

“We’ve got 2nd Armored back on its feet, and the 7th as well—that’s your grandfather unit, yes? Well, if you would care to throw in with us, it would stiffen my division considerably.”

“You do realize that two thirds of my force is in Syria.”

“Of course, I sent them there, but we think we have a lever on Syria further east on the Euphrates. The Germans have only been able to move brigade sized airborne units out there, and we have the whole of the 10th Indian Division, a brigade from the 8th Indian, and all of Brigadier Kingstone’s force on that flank. The Germans set up a blocking force at Dier ez Zour, but we moved them out of that easily enough. Now they are trying to consolidate at Raqqah, further up the Euphrates.”

“Yes, I know the place,” said Kinlan. “There was a lot of fighting there in our time. A group known as ISIS made it their headquarters in an attempt to control all of northern Syria and Iraq. War just seems to flower in the same old places, like a bad weed, I suppose.”

“Indeed, well our Russian friends swept out to Raqqah on those marvelous helicopters of theirs, and that got our foot in the saddle there. We’ve already got a brigade up from the lower Euphrates, and Kingstone and our Glubb Pasha pulled off a nice desert crossing to keep the Germans off balance again. The thing is this. I don’t think we’ll need your boys in Syria any longer. You’ve done just what we hoped, and cleared that log jam south of Rayak. Stopped the panzers right in their tracks! Well then, this situation shaping up out west in Libya looks to be a tad more to worry about. Rommel has three good divisions now, and two more Brigade sized units. Throw in five or six Italian divisions, including the Ariete Armored Division, and he can pose a real threat.”

“So you want another Bir el Khamsa?”

“Well, we won’t ask you to do all the heavy lifting. Tiger Convoy finally got round the cape with 500 new tanks. Lord knows, if they were Challenger IIs like those you have, this war would end soon enough. But no, I’m afraid we’ll have to make do with our Matildas, and some new cruiser tanks we’re calling Crusaders. My thinking was this—to place your force in reserve. You are presently billeted here south of the old rail head near Mersa Matruh, but I propose to move your force to Sidi Omar on the Egyptian border.”

“I see… And then what?”

“Stand as 8th Army reserve. We’re arranging to get your two battalions back from Syria by rail, just as we sent them there. You should have them in hand in seven to ten days time. In the meantime, might you be so kind as to move your current force to Sidi Omar?”

Kinlan smiled. “General, you give the sweetest orders I’ve ever heard. You know damn well that I’ll move my troops anywhere you need them. But I appreciate the light hand here. As you know, we have considerations beyond the military to think of.”

“Ah, yes, the secrecy bit. We’ve certainly done our best, but it’s fair to say the Germans know about you, don’t they. What they may be planning to do about it is anyone’s guess. Rommel took one hell of a beating at Bir el Khamsa, but yet here he comes again.”

So it was decided, and Kinlan was getting his troops into a march column ready to send them west. He would move up the road through Bir Sheferzan to Sidi Omar, and await the arrival of his heavy infantry battalions from Syria. O’Connor had hoped Rommel would take some time sorting out his units once they made contact with the British defensive line, but he rested no more than 24 hours before beginning his attack.

The Italians opened the action at Tobruk, along the coastal road leading back to Derna. There they threw three infantry divisions at the British positions along Wadi Sehel. The new British commander, General Montgomery, had posted the 20th Brigade of the 9th Australian Division, in a line of 18 defensive strong points between the ragged coast and the main road to Tobruk. South of the road, the 24th Brigade extended the defense to a high point known as hill 209. It had once been outside the perimeter defense plan, but when Monty took over he immediately ordered the defensive works moved forward so that hill could be occupied by British troops.

“I’ll be damned if I’ll let them get up there and machine gun the hell out of us,” said Montgomery. “No. Get your engineers to work at once. That hill will anchor the southern line of our perimeter.”

South and east of hill 209, the line dog legged to run parallel to the coast. There Monty placed the last brigade in the 9th Australian Division, and then posted its sister division, the 6th, south between the Tobruk perimeter and covering the big aerodrome at El Adem. He then had one last division in his corps, the 2nd New Zealanders, and it was his inclination to hold it as a reserve behind the Australians. But O’Connor had argued that the line should extend further south of El Adem, where a substantial wadi ran in a wide arc.

“I’ll want to position my armor south of the bend of that wadi,” said O’Connor. “It’s a good anti-tank obstacle, and a perfect defensive position for infantry. My guess is that Rommel will have to send his own armor either north or south of that feature. If he comes north, I’ll leave you a brigade of Matildas and the Carpathian Brigade as your reserve. If he comes south, I’ll have 2nd and 7th Armor there to handle things.”

“Very well, general, but I must give you my opinion that it will need three divisions to adequately hold Tobruk and El Adem.”

“Don’t worry,” said O’Connor. “If the Carpathians aren’t enough for you, I’ve made arrangements to move a reserve to Sidi Omar.”

“Sidi Omar? That’s too far south and too far east. You should post it at Gambut if I’m to make any use of it.”

“Well it is my hope that you will not need to do so, General.” O’Connor gave him a thin smile.

“If wishes were horses,” said Montgomery, folding his arms.

“Yes,” said O’Connor, “beggars would ride. I’m not trying to unhinge your defensive plan, General Montgomery, but do post the 2nd New Zealand as I advise here. I’ll need them as a shield if I’m to be able to use my armor effectively as a sword. It’s my assessment that Rommel will attempt a wide envelopment south of El Adem. I plan to meet him there with my own 7th Armored, but I’ll need you to hold all the ground to my north. You’re an infantry commander, and new to fighting in this desert. Things have a way of getting rather dicey out here on short notice. But rest assured, we’ll have adequate reserves.”

So it was that the 2nd New Zealand Division was placed south of El Adem, over Montgomery’s objections, and the wiry General steamed about it for some time after. Their plans had considered Rommel’s most likely choices for an attack south of Tobruk. What O’Connor did not expect, however, is that Rommel’s main effort would not be a deep southern envelopment around that wadi, but a concerted effort to punch through the defensive fortress to get to his main objective.

Tobruk had foiled Rommel’s drive into Egypt during his first offensive, and his plan now was to reduce it while fending off the British reserves with his own mobile divisions. Rightfully called ‘the Verdun of the desert,’ Tobruk could prove to be a difficult task, or so he believed. The British had some time to prepare the perimeter defenses, though the infantry occupying them had only just arrived after being withdrawn from defensive positions in the Jebel country. Rommel’s plan was to soften the outer shell by first using the Italian infantry divisions. He did not expect they would be able to actually break through, but they would force enemy defensive artillery fires, and possibly pull in reserve units within the fortress to the more threatened sector on the coast.

Behind this screen of four Italian infantry divisions, Rommel’s real shock troops were assembling for the main attack. He had quietly boasted that ‘Tobruk will be no problem this time—I will take it with the Luftwaffe,” but in this he meant he would use the considerable hammer he had in the Herman Goering Brigade. This unit was a lavish formation, much more developed at this time than it was in the history Fedorov could read about. Then it had been a regiment, with heavy emphasis on flak units that led it to be posted near the oil fields of Ploesti in Rumania. This time around it had already been built up to a full brigade.

There were three well equipped “Schutzen Battalions” in the formation, which were heavy motorized battalions with four companies of infantry each, the third being heavier on support weapons and engineers. Together they comprised the mobile Schutzen Regiment within the Brigade. Next came the two Flak Battalions, each equipped with three heavy batteries of 88s and three light batteries of 20mm guns. The third battalion here was all artillery, and then came the vaunted “Führer Flak Battalion,” which had the best mobile flak batteries, including quad 20mm guns, a 37mm battery, and yet more 88s. If that were not enough, there was also a Wachbataillon in the Brigade, with three more companies, and a big Ersatzabteilung for replacements that had four more infantry companies and three flak batteries.

All together, the Brigade could field twenty infantry companies, an equal number of flak batteries and three artillery batteries. By comparison. Rommel’s 5th light Division had only two heavy machine gun battalions, the 300th Afrika Infantry Battalion attached, and his two tank battalions as the real combat elements of the division, so the Reichsminister had seen that the Brigade formed in his name would have the strength to do it justice in combat. But that was not all the Luftwaffe had to offer Rommel’s Afrika Korps.

After the stunning success in capturing Malta, and then the easy victory they enjoyed on Cyprus, Kurt Student had been given a free hand to further enlarge his Fliegerkorps. There had not been time to create a full division, but he had been putting together several new “Sturm Regiments” that would be suitable for smaller operations when a full division would not be required. The concept had been proven in the attack on the Dutch fortress positions, when three Sturmgruppes, Beton, Eisen, and Stahl, had proved very effective. This had given rise to the formation of the Luftland Sturm Regiment for the Crete Operation, which was now involved in the Syrian campaign. But Student had selected another good man to lead his second Sturm Regiment, Oberst Eugen Meindel, who had fought well at Narvik earlier in the war.

This was also a new wrinkle in the history, as both Ramcke and Meindel had been commanders of the same Sturm Regiment in Fedorov’s books, but this time they each would be given a chance to make their fortune with unique formations. When Hitler summarily pulled the 1st Mountain Division off the reinforcement schedule for Rommel, Paulus came looking for fresh troops in compensation. He asked Student if anything could be spared from the 7th Flieger Division, then acting as theater reserve on Cyprus, but Student had Meindel’s troops available instead.

So behind Goering’s fat brigade, Meindel had another three battalions of Fallschirmjagers available in support. Together the two units had as much infantry fighting power as the 90th Light Division, which had also been considerably reinforced to a full nine battalions. To round out Rommel’s hopes for a good attack, the Luftwaffe was also providing six squadrons of the deadly Stuka dive bombers.

Just after the Italian infantry hurled themselves at the coastal defenses south of the main road, the Italian Ariete sprung into action, coming down the track from a place the British had named “Knightsbridge,” and aimed at the northernmost end of the 6th Australian Division lines, just outside Tobruk’s southern defensive perimeter. It was clear they meant to drive straight up the road that bypassed the fortress, hoping for a quick breakthrough.

The Italian tanks were not unstoppable, but they had also been reinforced in the long interval, and came in good numbers, backed up by their 8th Bersaglieri Battalion. Behind this division, the whole of the Trento Motorized Infantry Division was strung out along that road, all the way to Knightsbridge. It would feed itself into that battle, like a log to a buzz saw, but over time, the preponderance of strength in that vital junction fell to the Axis forces.

The fighting was hot and furious for some time, but the Italians had made a few good inroads as Rommel monitored reports on their battle closely. He had already ordered his 90th Light “Afrika” Division to make a full assault against the 2nd New Zealand Division, south along the obstacle of Wadi Nullah, so there were no reinforcements that division could send north towards the fighting near El Adem.

The Aussies of the 6th Division were as tough as they came, but they still had nothing bigger then a 2 Pounder AT gun, and all too few. They held off the first tank charge, then rallied and sent in their reserve elements to counterattack, using the recon battalion armored cars and their motorized machinegun battalion. This pushed the Bersaglieri Battalion back, and by nightfall it looked as though the line would hold.

No one expected the Italians to continue the fight after dark, but that is exactly what they decided to do. A battle was shaping up much like one that became known as “The Battle of the Salient,” also fought in May of 1941 in Fedorov’s history. There the Ariete Division and 6th Australians fought for a row of strongpoints labeled R3 through R7, all taken and held by the Italians. But here the attack was not directed at the strong points, but on the entrenched lines of the Australian infantry. And the Italians had a bone to pick. They had been pushed around by the Aussies long enough, and now General Raffaele Cadorna was going to get his pound of flesh one way or another.

“We attack all night,” he said sternly. “Regroup! Form your tank companies. Lead with the M11s and follow with the M13s. Then bring up the armored cars!”

There would be no sleep on that ground for either side that night, and when dawn came the situation was ripe for a development that no one expected.

Chapter 20

The night attack by the Ariete Armored Division was running parallel to the line of defenses where the main road from Tobruk led five miles south to El Adem. There the 2/1 Field Company of Engineers was the only unit of the 6th actually inside the fortifications, manning bunkers R35 through R39. They could see the action developing, watching the hot tracer fire and listening to the rattle of tanks, but none turned for their positions.

Tom Walls gave the elbow to a Vickers MG gunner as he watched. “Looks like the Eye-Ties are giving us a pass,” he said, using the familiar slang word the Aussies used for the Italians.

“Good for us,” said Corporal Peters, “but there’s practically nobody on the line to the east. Strongpoints astride the road are well manned, but after that it gets fairly thin.”

“Well where’s the bloody 9th Division?” Walls protested. “I thought old Ming had that lot locked down tight in here.” He was referring to Major General Leslie Morsehead, the no-nonsense commander of the 9th Division. Tough as nails, and with a deep reserve of calm in the most trying circumstances, he was a hard taskmaster, and strict disciplinarian, to the point where the men had come to call him “Ming the Merciless.”

“Eye-Ties are hitting the coast road too,” said Peters. “What you think we’ve been listening to all day until this lot showed up? They hit the ninth with three divisions, and most everyone’s gone off to that little hornet’s nest. This one here is ours.”

“Fancy that.” Walls shook his head. “Well, if they push over those trench lines to the south of us, they’ll be able to swing right around and into the Fortress from the south.”

“Don’t worry about it, that new limey General will have something in the cupboard back there. Just keep your eyes on that view slit and watch for enemy infantry.”

The action heated up, with four battalions of Italian tanks making a determined attack, until they had pushed through to approach the artillery of the 1st Field Artillery Regiment. There the Aussie commander had ordered his gunners to level the barrels and blast away point blank at the Italian tanks, and though he had some success, darkness and the speed of the enemy advance made it obvious that his position would soon be overrun.

Elsewhere, the Morris and Marmon Herrington armored cars that had rushed in to stop the attack earlier, now found themselves in a hot gun duel with the M11 Medium Italian Tanks. The M11 suffered from two prominent design flaws in that its main 37mm gun was hull mounted with a limited traverse, with only machineguns on the turret. Its armor was also too thin, and even the light 2 pounders could penetrate it at most ranges. These tanks suffered badly, but the improved M13s behind them had a bigger 47mm turret mounted gun that allowed it to hit harder, and respond quicker in a firefight than the M11 could. When these came up, they were able to beat back the Australian armored cars, and by 2am, in a confusing night action, it seemed as though the Ariete Division was finally breaking through.

Yet the new Limey General did have reserves at hand, and when word reached Montgomery that Italian armor had been seen on the bypass road east of bunker R43, he immediately was on the radio to summon up reinforcements.

In exchange for compelling the southern deployment of the 2nd New Zealand Division, O’Connor had placed two units behind the 6th Australian Division holding the line at El Adem. One was the Polish Carpathian Brigade at Gambut, and the second was the 32nd Army Tank Brigade at Sidi Rezegh. This unit was formed some months earlier than its historical appearance, and had a good number of heavier Matilda tanks. It rattled down the secondary road towards El Adem, skirting a craggy escarpment that opened onto the main bypass road below. Near El Adem they could turn north and move to shore up the northern flank of the division, but events developing near the airfield itself were going to complicate that plan.

There the Bologna Infantry Division and Trento Motorized Division had been pushing hard on the center and southern positions of the 6th Australians. By the time the Matildas arrived, they would be pulled into the desperate fight near El Adem and would never get north. The Carpathians were coming, though they were not going to reach the scene until after dawn, but Monty had one more card to play. The Indian 3rd Motor Brigade was stationed near El Duda shrine where the road from Tobruk paralleled the coast east to Gambut. He called on this reserve, sending two of its three battalions rushing to the scene of the Italian breakthrough, and he was not happy about the development.

“I told O’Connor that it would need three divisions to adequately hold the fortress and airfield,” he steamed. “Now look at the situation.”

“Well sir,” said a staff officer. “We’ve still got the whole of 1st Army Tank Brigade right here inside the perimeter.”

“Yes, and that is my last reserve. This is only beginning. I’ll need to have some mobile force that can counterattack when we need it. Don’t forget that Rommel is out there somewhere. These are just the Italians!”

Monty was correct, for in the pre-dawn hours of May 8th, the three battalions of Meindel’s newly formed Sturm Regiment II moved silently through the ranks of the Hermann Goering Brigade, intending to make a surprise attack on the strongpoints guarding the main road to Tobruk. They moved like shadows, the squads making a stealthy advance in the dark, until Tom Walls in Bunker R36 saw more than he liked through his view slit.

“Pssst… Corporal! Infantry! Get on that Vickers gun, and be quick about it!”

Corporal Peters slapped the butt of the gun to bring it round and began to fire. Then, the moment of surprise lost, they saw the whole line light up with returning fire, and knew they were being hit by a major attack. 2/1 Field Engineers were in a fight for their lives. These were not Italians. The units of the Italian RECAM Regiment, a recon unit with an engineer battalion, Machinegun company and some Autoblinda 41 armored cars, had been sent to reinforce the Ariete Division tanks a little after 04:00. The unit had fluttered about the southern edge of the block houses, trading occasional fire with the defenders, but making no real threat. The coming of the Fallschirmjagers was like a dark tide of war, and they were not planning to stop.

When Rommel got news of what appeared to be a possible breakthrough by the Italians on the bypass road, he wasted no time, immediately ordering 5th Light to move north from its central position behind the 90th Light.

So the Italians are worth the petrol it took to get them here after all, he thought. That Ariete Division is putting in one hell of a scrappy fight tonight. I did not expect them to push this hard, and whoever ordered Mindel’s boys to move in before dawn was also using his head. He later learned that the order had been given by Oberst Paul Conrath of the Goering Brigade, the nominal leader of all Luftwaffe troops in the Korps.

So it was that the men who once formed Sturmgruppes Beton for Concrete, Eisen for Iron, Granit for Granite, and Stahl for Steel, were now directed at the stone and earthen bunkers of the Tobruk defenses, an area that was thought to be relatively secure, some three kilometers behind the lines of the Australian 9th Division. Those code names had been used to identify the Sturmgruppe targets in Holland, assigned for the steel and iron and granite in the bridges and forts they were to assault, and they hit the line like a hammer just before sunrise on the 8th of May. Rommel left his headquarters at the old Turkish fort of Bir Hacheim an hour before dawn, intending to find his 5th Light Division and see what was developing up north.

“Let me know the instant you hear of any turning movement to the south,” he said to his headquarters staff. “Is Grossdeutschland in position?”

“They say the ground could be better, but yes, Herr General, they are digging in to prepared defensive positions as ordered tonight.”

“And the artillery?”

“We have sent them three more battalions, mostly heavier guns.”

“Good. Send the rest north to coordinate with 5th Light. I’m off to see what the Italians have been up to all night. Here the British thought we were trying to kick in the back door along the coast all day, while we just might slip right through the front door today!” He smiled.

I came here for Tobruk, he thought. And by god, I’ll have the place, one way or another. All reports place O’Connor’s armor to the south, which is most likely where those monster tanks of theirs will be. So if all goes as planned, my 15th Panzer Division launches a demonstration attack there at dawn. I must make sure the British armor stays well to the south, and out of the fight for Tobruk. But god help the 15th Panzer Division today. God will probably have nothing to do with it, he thought. Instead it may come down to Papa Hörnlein’s boys in the Grossdeutschland Regiment on their right flank. As he was so many times in these long years of the desert, Rommel was a bit of a prophet that night.

The Italian Ariete Division had uncovered the main road into the fortress of Tobruk with their gallant night attack, but now allied forces were reacting like antibodies to deal with the threat. 78th and 154th Field Artillery found their positions could range on the point of the enemy attack, and they began putting in probing barrages, the fire corrected by the frantic calls from the engineers on the bunker line.

Walls and Peters position was overrun, with bunkers R28 through R35 all stormed by the German paratroopers. They got out alive, retreating towards the main road to eventually make contact with the men of the Indian 18th King Edwards Own Cavalry, one of the two Indian battalions Montgomery had rushed to the scene that night. These troops were the only Indian units still in the west, with all their remaining troops in Syria, and now they were the only organized infantry available to hold the main entrance to the fortress, but more help was on the way.

One of the three tank battalions in 32nd Armored Brigade had veered off the track to El Adem, answering the call and heading north. It had 45 Matildas, and they were going to meet and stop the Italian M13 tanks in a sharp engagement just before sunrise. The remaining two battalions got pulled into the growing crisis near El Adem itself, and were soon battling with the dogged Trento Division just west of the airfields.

Meanwhile, far to the south, beyond the wide curve of wadi Nullah where the 2nd New Zealanders watched the grey dawn, O’Connor had all of 2nd and 7th Armored divisions formed up and ready to attack. They were going to run right into the demonstration attack mounted by 15th Panzer Division in a titanic meeting engagement.

At dawn the two panzer battalions of the 8th Regiment led the attack, the fast armored cars of the 33rd Recon Battalion on their right. They rolled forward over good ground, the rumble of the tanks shaking the dawn as they charged. Inside their steel chariots, the gunners and drivers kissed their lucky charms, and some silently crossed themselves as the attack went forward. They had faced the sudden shock of the new British tanks before, and knew what might be waiting for them. Many had also heard what had happened to 9th Panzer Division in Syria, and most secretly hoped the enemy heavy armor was still there, far away, and not to be their nightmare that morning.

Just as the rising sun was changing the color of the ground from sallow grey to wan ocher and amber, they saw the low profiles of distant enemy tanks in a long line ahead. A surge of adrenaline twisted their innards as the charge went forward to its uncertain fate. One of the gunners called out that he had not seen this enemy silhouette before, which quickened the pulse of the crew in that tank. He was correct, for they had not met these tanks in any previous engagement, all new arrivals to the desert war, though they were not the nemesis that had bedeviled the panzers at Bir el Khamsa.

Up ahead, their engines turning over, crews buttoning up, turrets training, were the new Crusader tanks of the 22nd Armored Brigade, fresh off the boat from the reinforcement convoys that had come round the cape. The 3rd and 4th County of London Yeomanry had 45 of the new tanks each, and there were another 45 in the 2nd Hussars, a formidable looking force of 135 fast cruiser tanks.

They looked every bit the name, with a low profile, and a sleek polygonal turret with a 2 pounder gun. The armor was modest at 40mm, and the tanks were exhibiting teething trouble in the early going, as was the unit itself. The 22nd had been sent from England to bring the 7th Armored Division up to a full three brigade strength level, and it had arrived earlier than Fedorov might have expected it, as all these events were accelerated on a scale of three to five months ahead of the tempo of his old history. The crews, in a new tank, in a new and unfamiliar place, had not yet had the time they needed to train and get properly acclimated to desert warfare, and the shock of this first engagement was severe.

The Germans opened fire at the run, and the British returned, the morning ripped open by the gunfire of over 250 tanks on both sides. 17 Crusaders died in those first awful minutes, but the rest recovered and began fighting, particularly when they got up infantry from the 7th Armored Support Group. This, in turn, prompted the Germans to commit the grenadiers of the 104th and 115th Schutzen Regiments, deployed on the left flank of the attack. As they came forward, they were going to run directly into the 22nd Guards Brigade infantry, and soon the sharp regiment/brigade level tank duel, had expanded to a massive division scale battle that extended for many kilometers to the north.

With the Italian attack faltering after fighting all night, and then being confronted by the stolid, well armored Matildas, Rommel decided to go all or nothing and moved his 5th Light Division into the attack. Conrath had already followed up the successful attack against the perimeter by the Sturm Regiment, and now he was sending in his elite battalions from the Hermann Goering Brigade. But the attack on the Italians had to be stopped, and 5th Light soon found itself in the perfect position to counter.

15th Panzer Division was now heavily engaged but, as it move south, its left flank was extended, near a place where the long wadi wrinkled eastward, called Qubur al Janda. It was just where O’Connor had placed the 2nd Armored Division, which soon saw that the gap provided an interesting opportunity.

Yet Rommel was not called “The Desert Fox” without good reason. He had ordered that all reserve flak elements were to screen that flank in a long Pakfront, with many of the positions studded by batteries of the deadly 88s. Also, the night before, Rommel had gone to Papa Hörnlein and his crack Grossdeutschland Regiment, showing him just where he thought the British turning movement would fall. So when O’Connor’s 7th began to wheel its reserve tank brigades to the west, they found Grossdeutschland waiting for them in a well prepared defense, backed by six battalions of artillery, and with another AT Pakfront screening its extreme right flank. It was a defense designed by Rommel to have the hope of fending off, or at least delaying, those monstrous new British tanks.

But O’Connor was not bringing Kinlan’s Challenger IIs to the fight. He had his Matildas and many new Cruiser tanks in good numbers, but did not expect the prepared defense that was waiting for him that morning.

Chapter 21

That day saw the crisis at Tobruk redoubled. The Fallschirmjagers of the Sturm Regiment had pushed into the fortified line, opening the way for the heavy battalions of the Herman Goering Brigade. Now they advanced, in wave after wave, the onrushing tide of German infantry seeming unstoppable. Montgomery had struggled to hold on to one last mobile reserve in the 1st Army Tank Brigade, which also had a battalion of Engineers, and now he threw them forward into the fray, the Matildas posing a strong armored challenge as the troops of the Goering Brigade began to move north towards the vital road junction of King’s Cross.

The morning of May 8th saw the British tanks launch a fierce counterattack, driving back two German battalions towards the outer fortified line. But the Goering Brigade soon wheeled in heavy flak batteries in the scissors, paper rock of warfare, and the dual purpose 88s soon began to stem the tide and drive back the lumbering Matildas, leaving 27 tanks as smoldering wrecks on the battlefield.

The Germans reorganized at noon, then resumed their tireless advance that afternoon, with fresh battalions moving through the gap in the outer defenses to strengthen the push north. To make matters worse, the Panzer Regiment of 5th Light had now moved in to support this attack, and soon Monty was reaching for every spare unit he could get his hands on. All his remaining artillery began to pound the German advance, and flak units positioned near the airfields, to either side of the road leading to King’s Cross, were sent forward in a last ditch defense. To these he added two battalions of Royal Marines, the Layforce Group that had come in by sea on the previous night.

By now, the Carpathian Brigade had finally footed it up from Gambut, and was taking up positions on the eastern flank of the German advance, and far to the east, the trains had been laboring all through the previous night to deliver the last reserves that the British could count on. Only the onset of darkness carried the hope that the embattled garrison of Tobruk might hold on.

As the sun set on the 8th, the battle in the south had also ground to a halt. The infantry clash on the left of the German advance had resulted in a stalemate, hot and furious at times, with squads of German grenadiers making concerted attacks, only to be countered by waves of British infantry, charging over the desert with fixed bayonets. In places the fighting was hand to hand until, under orders from Rommel, the 15th Panzer Division pulled back to form a defensive night laager.

“Any sign of those heavy British Tanks?” Rommel had been keen to learn where and when the enemy might play their last Ace. Yet thus far, there had been no reports of these unstoppable goliaths anywhere along the front. The first British attempt to envelop 15th Panzer Division fell right astride the prepared defenses of the Grossdeutschland Regiment, and the enemy was stopped cold, with heavy casualties, and forced to withdraw into a defensive laager of their own. So the battle in the south had resulted in a stalemate that day, which is exactly what Rommel had planned. Thus far everything seemed to be going as he wished.

I’ve stopped O’Connor with my 15th Panzers, he thought, and Grossdeutschland is standing like a rock on that southern flank. We’ve pushed into the fortress with my shock troops, and tomorrow should decide that issue. Conrath must drive right over those airfields and take the port, and that will bag the whole of the 9th Australian Division. But where are those big enemy tanks? We’ve seen scores of Matildas, and a new small cruiser tank, but no sign of the demons that fell on us at Bir el Khamsa. One more day, that is all I need. If I can take that port tomorrow, the British will have no recourse but to withdraw.

That night, O’Connor was on the radio to Kinlan at Sidi Omar. Was his force ready for operations? Could he move quickly west to Bir el Gobi? Was there anything he could send to Tobruk? Kinlan mounted a fast vehicle with Lieutenant Sims and sped up the road after dusk, intent on meeting with O’Connor at Bir el Gobi to plan their next move. It was close to midnight by the time he got there, saluting as he arrived at XIII Corps headquarters.

“Good to see you, General,” said O’Connor. “I hope you’re coming with more than those three trucks out there.”

“Stand easy,” said Kinlan. “The Highlanders and Mercians have arrived by rail, so I’ve got my whole brigade together again. They’ve been assembling at Sidi Omar since 04:00, and I’ll be making a night march here, if this is where you want my men.”

“Excellent. We’ve been in a bit of a boxing match with the German 15th Panzer Division all day.” O’Connor leaned over the map on the briefing table, his face weary with the hour, but the light of battle still in his eyes.

“Now then, my envelopment maneuver ran right into Rommel’s men this morning, about here, and it’s been tooth and nail ever since. I jogged left with a brigade, but found another German unit in well prepared positions there.”

“Sounds like Rommel planned it that way,” said Kinlan. “He knew you would try that end around.”

“Quite so. In the meantime, he’s punched right through the Tobruk perimeter near the main road, and the fighting reached King’s Cross by dusk.”

“I’ve sent my light infantry battalion on to Tobruk by rail as you requested,” said Kinlan. “It’s just one battalion, but these men will fight, and then some.”

“Good enough, because no matter what happens tomorrow, I plan to hold on here. We simply cannot lose Tobruk. Rommel thinks he can compel me to withdraw if he gets a firm hold there, but I’ll hear none of that. Montgomery is manning the line with artillery, flak units and rail workers, so that battalion will be more than welcome. In the meantime, you and I must decide how to handle things in the south, and we’ll need to move quickly.”

“My brigade will be here by dawn,” said Kinlan. “I assume you have a plan?”

“Well, we’ve two options as I see things. You might swing down here…” O’Connor fingered the line of a long wadi that ran southwest from the vicinity of Bir el Gobi. “There’s a road along that wadi, and it will take you here, down past my 7th Division headquarters and in a good position to swing round Rommel’s flank.”

“Isn’t that exactly what he expects us to do?”

“More than likely. It’s what I tried to do late this afternoon, but my 7th Brigade wasn’t able to carry it off. Your brigade, however, is something more. Now, we’ve had a good while to scout that flank. Jerry had a brigade sized defensive laager there, and further east, there’s a line of fixed gun positions—most likely his heavy flak batteries.”

“Sounds like he’s expecting visitors.”

“Indeed, and I’m also told the Germans have been busy laying minefields on that flank. They clearly expect us to try them again, and are digging in.”

“Any other options?”

O’Connor pursed his lips. “This segment here, just north along the wadi from where my 7th Division is posted… I’ve got 2nd Armored there, just two brigades, but they put in a spoiling attack on the German flank in that area. Ran into another line of flak units and mixed it up all afternoon, but those damn 88s are just good enough to stop even our Matildas. As for our cruiser tanks, they go through them like paper. Yet, as I see it now, that defense was hastily mounted, and not anywhere as well prepared as the German southern flank. That move by 2nd Armored was the one thing Rommel didn’t expect today, otherwise I’d say he’s read my damned operational orders to the letter. The road running northwest from here could put your brigade right behind my current positions with 2nd Armored.”

Kinlan nodded. “An attack there would cut off everything the Germans have to the south.”

“Precisely. Rommel expects me to swing left again around that flank, and by God, sending in your boys along with my 7th Division would see all the Desert Rats taking it to the enemy in one glorious rush. But if there is one thing I’ve learned out here, it is not to do what the enemy expects. My 7th Hussars has had a good long look at that German position on the southern flank. I don’t like it. They’ve had two days to harden that defense, while this segment here opposite 2nd Armored Division is much weaker. I say we hit them there.”

“Agreed,” said Kinlan. “I can have my column up by dawn, shake them out, and be ready to attack in little time.”

O’Connor smiled. “And I’ll put on a good show tomorrow morning on that southern flank, to keep Jerry guessing as to what we’re up to. The only rub is this—can Montgomery hold out at Tobruk? ”

Kinlan smiled. “General, if I had to give odds on that, I’d bankrupt anyone who bets against me. Monty will hold.”

King’s Cross was being held by 16th Light AA Battalion, the 1st Carpathian Battalion and a company from the Ulhans Recon Battalion. To the west the other two battalions of the Carpathian Brigade stretched out in a line reaching towards Gabr Casm. Beyond this, the rail line that the British had labored all spring to complete wound its way through the crumbling edge of an escarpment and down past a line of three inner forts, Pilistrino, Solaro and Ariente, the old fortifications built by the Italians. Montgomery had stripped away their scant garrisons, including any flak batteries he could round up, and put them on the makeshift defense line he was forming south of the port.

“Our back is against the wall, gentlemen, so I expect we shall have to leave off civility and become something more. Here we stand. There is to be no further retreat from this line. We fight here, or we die. Sergeant Major!”

“Sir!”

“I see no rifles here for my headquarters staff. Fetch anything you can find. I’m partial to the old Martini & Henry myself, but under the circumstances, one can’t be picky.”

“I think we can fill that order sir,” said the Sergeant Major. “Would a Martini-Enfield do?” The crisp salute and click of the heels set the tone of the hour. In all the annals of military history, through countless wars over the centuries, there had been a thousand other moments like this, where men banded together in some crucial fort or redoubt, or on a hill forsaken by time and the whims of man until that hour. They huddled in trenches, hunched in the cellars of forgotten hamlets, shivered in a cold, nameless forest, and held a line. One side or another would prevail, and history changed with their sweat and toil, wrenched by their bones and muscle, washed with the shedding of their blood.

This was one such moment, where the fall of Tobruk might cascade to unforeseen consequences that no man could see, or read about, as this was all new history being written that day. It may have echoed and mocked the battles fought in this place, all well chronicled in Fedorov’s history books, but here was a chapter where the outcome hung in the balance, and could not be found all neatly resolved at the end of a typeset paragraph.

Yet there was something strangely macabre about the whole scene. Here were men that had all left homes, wives, children, family and friends, and then traveled half way around the world to this place, a bleak and barren desert, all to form lines in the heartless sands, and to kill one another.

Across the deadly interval between the lines, other men crouched with their squad mates, hands tight on the hard steel and wood of their rifles, helmets pulled low on their foreheads. It was Major Kluge’s Wachbataillon, three companies under Zillmann, Krohn and Trukenmüller opposite King’s Cross that day. On their right was Burchardt’s battalion from the Sturm Regiment, on their left were Heydt’s troops from that same unit. Between them a salient was holding out with a company of Engineers from the 1st Army Tank Brigade, and 1/74th Flak, with four 3.7 inch AA guns.

Kluge was getting up some fire support from the 5th Light, as 605th Panzer Jaegers had sent up a number of tracked 47mm guns. By noon he was ready to make his attack, and the men that had been handpicked by Goering himself, to first stand a watch over his lavish Karinhall estate, would now be thrown at Montgomery’s last dogged defense. They were just one small link in the chain of battle that stretched for miles in all directions, but this attack would carry weight far in excess of the numbers actually involved.

Yet something was happening just east of this crucial crossroads in history, when a train arrived at the edge of the Tobruk perimeter and the “Little Men” of Kinlan’s tough Royal Gurkha Rifle Battalion leapt from the rolling stock, ready for action. The very presence of that rail line itself was yet another anomaly in the history, for the connection between the railhead at Mersa Matruh and Tobruk had not been finished by the British until 1942. This time, however, they had used the interval from February to May to feverishly extend that line, and it was a most timely decision.

There were fewer men in the Light Battalion now, with 17 dead and another 20 wounded in Syria. Colonel Gandar had the men formed by companies in ten minutes, and now he looked to get some sense of what was happening on the battlefield ahead. The sun was well past mid day when he led his men forward, feeling the battle ahead of him with senses keened by many years of military service. He was listening to it, smelling it, and coming to some sense of what he was now leading his men into.

His companies possessed a great deal of firepower, but here, in these open spaces, with little more than bare scrub for cover, the men would be vulnerable to all the many banes of infantry, chief among them being enemy artillery. He looked south with his field glasses, spying the distant squat shapes of the block houses that marked the outer perimeter. In his mind he now saw them as an archipelago of stony islands, perhaps the only cover he could find within miles. There his battalion might be able to work its way from one strongpoint to another, and he elected to move in that direction. In so doing he was going to launch his companies at the southernmost anchor of the British Commonwealth defense, like a man arriving at a beleaguered fortress, and then shouldering his way against the breach in a desperate effort to shut the gate.

It took a good part of the night for Kinlan’s force to motor up from Sidi Omar, moving slowly along the desert roads to Bir el Gobi, and then turning northwest on the road running a few kilometers east of Wadi Nullah. They moved over the wadi, the obstacle bridged by the engineers, and began to assemble behind the lines of the 2nd Armored Division. The action had slackened off on all sides, troops exhausted and needing rest. Even the position inside Tobruk quieted down, as assault squads re-assembled, and the weary troops tried to get some food and rest before the day that would surely decide the battle.

Early evening came with Kinlan’s two heavy mechanized infantry battalions largely assembled and ready, the Scots Dragoons behind them. Any troops of the 2nd Division that saw them gawked at the sight of the Challenger IIs. They had heard rumors that the army had a new tank, but wondered where it was. Now they knew. It had their back in the fight that was coming, and O’Connor and Kinlan met with Division Commander, Michael Denman Gambier-Parry, or simply GP to the men. He was another fish that had slipped through history’s net, for he was supposed to have been captured by the Germans the previous month, along with Norrie and O’Connor himself. Yet all these men were free and at large, a good windfall for the British at this crucial juncture of the desert war.

“Look GP,” said O’Connor. “Keep a tight leash on your boys tonight, and in the morning we’ll be moving a new brigade through your lines. They’ll move fast, hit hard, and when the dust clears, you’re to move your men after them, if you can manage to keep up. They’ll punch through and turn north, but you are to take your division south. Understand?”

“Yes sir, but the Germans have had all night to thicken up their lines out there. Those 88s gave us a nasty bite yesterday, and there will likely be more. What if we don’t get through?”

O’Connor smiled. “Oh, they’ll get through, GP. You can count on that. Tomorrow you’re going to see the damndest armored charge you’ll ever witness in this war, and be glad you’re to be a part of it.”