Stormtide Rising

Chapter 13

Iraq had been a nominal British Protectorate since order was restored in 1941. At that time, the focus of a little rebellion by Rashid-Ali had been at the British airfield at Habbaniyah. In that action, Fedorov, Troyak, and the Russian Marines along with Argonauts provided by the Fairchild group, had served to rescue the beleaguered outpost until Brigadier Kingstone could arrive with Kingcol, a light armored and infantry force that had formed the nucleus of the unit he still commanded.

Once secured, Iraq settled down to the typical squabbling among various tribes. Britain sent four Indian Infantry Divisions, and plans were being laid to also secure Iran, though they were never put into motion when the first German incursion into Syria occurred. Now, with this new incursion, Great Britain was regretting that it did not see to the military question concerning Iran.

“The Iranian Army is substantial,” said Auchinlek, arriving late to the strategy session underway in Damascus with Alexander. Technically, all of what was once called Mesopotamia and Persia was Auchinlek’s watch, while Alexander held down Libya, Egypt Palestine and Syria. “On paper they approach 200,000 men, with light artillery and even tanks.”

“They have armor?” Alexander was surprised to hear this. “Certainly nothing modern enough to bother us.”

“They made a purchase of about 50 French FT-17’s, some with the 37mm gun, others with only Machineguns. And they also bought another 50 Panzer 38’s from the Germans, with whom they have become quite cozy now. When we lost Turkey, we also lost the good will of Iran, and they’ve been mobilizing.”

“Are you suggesting they might attempt a military intervention to support the Germans?”

“We can’t dismiss the possibility. This is why it is imperative that we get our 2nd Infantry Division to Basra immediately, and frankly, we should seriously consider securing Abadan. To hell with Iranian neutrality. Those facilities are very valuable to the Crown, and the Iranians could turn off the tap on a whim.”

“Agreed,” said Alexander, “but if we do this, won’t that simply invite their interference all along the border?”

“It might,” said Auchinlek. “And in the short run we shall have to rely on our Levy Battalions to screen that frontier. The bulk of the Iranian military will be down south near Abadan, but they’ll have divisions at Ahwaz, Dezful, and Kermanshah.”

“A bit of a mess,” said Jumbo Wilson. “The Levy Battalions can buy us some time, but I think it will take British regulars to settle the matter. A lot will be riding on the back of Grover’s 2nd Division, and if it’s tied up down south, then we’ll have to hold Baghdad as best we can with the Indian Divisions.”

“It’s going to be a difficult situation for some time,” said Alexander. “I agree that 2nd Infantry should act quickly to take Abadan, come what may. If the Iranians come over the border, we may lose Al-Amarah, and possibly even Al-Kut in the short run, but we’ll get them back later. The only thing we have to really protect between Basra and Baghdad are the main road and rail links.”

“What about the north?” asked Wilson.

“It will have to hold on. I think it likely that Jerry will get into Mosul very soon. So Kirkuk will have to stand as a fortress city with 5th Indian and the Kurdish Levies.”

“Thank God for the Levies,” said Wilson. “I hope they fight.”

The British had raised ten Kurdish, 22 Assyrian, five Arab, and ten other tribal levies of battalion size in the last two years, and they were now mostly deployed in outlying cities, and along the border with Iran.

“So it’s decided,” said Auchinlek. “We put our house in order in the south first, secure Abadan, and defeat any Iranian forces in the region. Then 2nd Infantry moves to Baghdad with all the armor, and by that time, Wavell says he’ll have 7th Indian Division landing at Umm Qasar to look after Basra.”

Auchinlek was a superb military mind, and excellent tactician and real master of the operational art. He was quite possibly the best field General the British had, Montgomery’s equal in every respect. Yet now he found himself in a largely administrative role as overall commander in Persia, Iraq, and the Gulf. While Wilson was a steady hand, the Auk might have been a real match for Guderian on the ground, and better there than behind a desk in Basra.

Alexander agreed that their plan was the best approach. “Now then,” he said. “What is Jerry going to do about it?”

That was the question of the hour.

Guderian had taken ten full days to get supplies down the Euphrates, which was now the main link back to forward depots on the Turkish Frontier. Now he met with his three division commanders, Beckermann, Schneider with 4th Panzer, and General Fredrich Muller with the 22nd Luftland. He had come forward to Hadithah to personally lead the invasion of Iraq, sending the whole of 3rd panzer back through Palmyra with Hans Hube to check the offensive Alexander had pushed as far as the T4 Pumping station.

“So far, so good,” said Guderian. “We have taken every planned objective on schedule, and now control all of Anbar province. We’ve had time to refit and resupply, but we have also given that time to the enemy. They undoubtedly regrouped those two Indian divisions near Baghdad, and this brings us to the decision we must make concerning that city.”

“We’ll have to take it,” said Beckermann. “It can in no way be anything like the fight we had at Volgograd, so I say we simply storm the place with my entire division.”

“Assuming we do so, we then have the choice of turning either north or south. I have asked for infantry support, and General Kubler is adjusting his lines to free up Volker’s 78th Sturm Division on the coast of Lebanon. That division will move by rail and it should be in Mosul in another day.”

“Hauptmann Barenthin is already there,” said Muller. “They flew in this morning and took the place without a single shot. It was completely ungarrisoned.”

“Excellent, then Volker’s troops will have no problems.

Beyond that, the Turkomen Korps has made the long and difficult trek through northern Iran and they are now approaching Kirkuk. If those forces can secure Kirkuk and Baba Gurgur, then we stay on schedule, because no matter what you think, Herr Beckermann, city fighting in Baghdad could take us time.”

“My division is available to assist,” said Schneider.

“I am thinking to have you move north of Baghdad, here.” Guderian pointed at the map. “This will cut the Baghdad rail, and prevent the British from sending anything north quickly. Take Al Taji, then divide your division into two strong Kampfgruppes. The first can move south and attack Baghdad from the north. The second can be dispatched up central Iraq through Samara and Tikrit, with the aim of establishing contact with the 78th Sturm Division, and opening that rail line to Mosul for our use. They will be a much more reliable LOC than our present lines back up the Euphrates, and this is essential.”

“Then we aim to secure Baghdad and Northern Iraq first,” said Beckermann. “I agree.”

“Correct,” said Guderian. Once we have that rail line operational, and Baghdad secure, then we make that city our main supply hub. The Luftwaffe can concentrate everything there, and then your division, Herr Muller, will not be tied down on LOC duties as it is now. The falloff Baghdad and opening of that rail line to Mosul concluded Phase II of Operation Phoenix. Phase III then becomes the invasion of central and southern Iran, with the ultimate objective being the key oil refineries and facilities at Basra and Abadan. At that point, and pending the situation in the air, we may be able to move some of your troops by air, Muller—a nice little surprise.”

“What about the Iranians?” asked Muller.

“They aren’t much to speak of,” said Guderian. “On paper their army looks enormous, but I would estimate their typical brigade might have less real combat power than a single German battalion. Nonetheless, they can be useful by crossing the border, and pestering the British in the south to delay the advance of their reinforcements north to Baghdad. To that end, I want Reinhardt to use his Kommando Battalions to interdict the rail lines in the south.

“My pleasure,” said Reinhardt, his black hair slicked back tight on his squarish head. A handsome man, with a dimpled chin and prominent nose under dark brows, his blue eyes looked over the map, tracing the rail lines.”

“Can we expect any further reinforcements.”

“10th Motorized is being relieved even now by the 31st Infantry Division in Syria. I’ve been trying to get it east all along, but the British put in a very dogged spoiling attack at the T4 station. That situation is stabilizing, and so now we finally get Schmidt’s division. It should arrive in three days on the road from Palmyra. I would love to have Westhoven’s 3rd Panzer, but I’m afraid it must stay where it is. The British brought up a good deal of armor, but Westhoven had a lot of Lions, and he’s stopped them.” He folded the map, satisfied with these dispositions.

“We may need that division soon.”

“In time,” said Guderian. Then he took a deep breath, looking over the capable men under his command. “Soldiers of the Reich,” he said. “If we succeed here, we deliver a prize of greater value than Moscow was in 1941—of greater value than Volgograd in 1942! We deliver the largest known oil reserves in the world to the Führer, and at the same time, we take them from the enemy. The stakes could not be higher. This campaign is far more significant than anything Rommel did in Libya. We have a chance here to completely unhinge the enemy’s strategic supply situation, and immeasurably improve our own. Fight accordingly. We move out at dawn.”

It was Gruber again, out in front of the Brandenburgers as always when the division kicked off a mew operation. He was the first unit down the main road to Habbaniyah airfield, his three companies on line of march, but they were forced to deploy almost immediately. The 5th British Essex Battalion was right there at the airfield, dug in behind wire and fencing that was its only protection. On his right, between the airfield and the broad marshy lake of Al Habbaniyah, he could see the streams of dust being thrown up by 1/I Brandenburg Battalion, racing to engage another enemy force protecting that corridor.

Beckermann expected the British to put up a fight there, and he had planned to send Gruber’s Recon Battalion, and the entire 1st Regiment of the Brandenburgers to plow right on through. At the same time, he would order Konen’s 2nd Regiment to pass north of the Euphrates in a wide enveloping maneuver, the sort of which had so unsettled the Indian divisions earlier. They simply could not react quickly enough to run with the fast moving hit and move tactics of the Brandenburgers, soon finding themselves bypassed, cut off, and in full retreat. Konen moved quickly, and he already had his artillery battalion set up well north of the airfield, the first ranging salvos starting to fall there.

The Second Battle for Habbaniyah was now underway, only this time there would be no helicopters with mini-guns, no Argonauts in Talos assault suits and the Black Death led by the intrepid Sergeant Troyak. This time it was men of equal caliber, perhaps not as well armed or possessed of that modern technology, but arguably among the finest fighting infantry in the world.

That same hour, Volkov’s troops came done from the high mountain passes east of Kirkuk and surrounded a Kurdish Levy posted on the road north of the city. At the same time, the Iranian Army crossed the border at three locations, two divisions moving from the Kermanshah Sector, another from Khorramabad, and two other near Al Amarah. For them it was nothing more than a land grab, territories promised to them by the Reich if they would agree to support the German invasion. They were also promised handsome payment for their oil, which would be wrenched from the greedy hands of the British Petroleum Company, and made theirs to sell as they pleased.

In the south, there was fighting on the lower Tigris at a refinery on that river between Abadan and Basra. The Iranian 1st Division was moving up from Abadan toward the prize facilities just northwest of Basra, but they were going to meet more than they bargained for. The British 9th Armored moved from Basra north of the river, then swung over and came down on the Iranians like a hammer. 6th Infantry Brigade was right behind it, and the British intended to smash this enemy force and push right on to Abadan.

Up country, Brigadier Kingstone had replenished from stores and hidden ammo caches on the border with Arabia, and he was leading Kingforce up through Karbala to Alexandria. Behind him, stretched out in a long column for over 40 miles, were the last two battalions of the Free French, followed by the 10th Indian Division. They had all been forced to move south of the mass of Lake Razzazah, and so now they would be approaching Baghdad from the south, a much welcome reinforcement.

At Habbaniyah, the British were forced to quickly abandon the field, seven Maryland bombers and a few Spitfires blasted by that German artillery. Only four Spits got out, speeding away to Rasheed airfield, where the RAF had converted the old racecourse east of the city to a landing field. Flanked to the north, the 19th Indian Brigade fell back towards Fallujah, demolishing any bridge after they crossed. Their mission had been to force a delay upon the enemy, and now they fell back to the main line of resistance behind Fallujah.

As this was going on, Glubb Pasha had led his Arab Legion over a narrow isthmus between Habbaniyah Lake and the marshlands to the south. The Brandenburg Kommandos had come down along the northern edge of that lake, and this put the two sides into direct confrontation, a wild scene where the Arabs, most mounted on horses, were charging wildly over the scrubby desert, shooting from the hip with rifles and flashing their long cruel scimitars. They were met by the elite Kommandos in desert Cammo, crouching low and firing with submachine guns from the wadis and other depressions where they went to ground. It had the air of a wild west Indian attack, with the German Kommando company outnumbered three to one.

That did not last long, for other battalions of Brandenburgers were racing up on trucks, scout cars in the van with machineguns barking out a warning. Gruber’s armored cars came up, and that took the fire our of Glubb’s Arabs. That wild action around Fallujah concluded the day, largely a preliminary sounding out of the battle to come. The Brandenburgers had flowed down the road from Ramadi like a steel river, and met the berm thrown up by the 8th British Indian Division under General Russel.

The General had his division deployed in a wide arc northwest of Baghdad, with Brigadier Ford’s 19th Brigade at Fallujah, Brigadier Purves 21st Brigade on their right along a canal flowing to the Tigris to the east, and Brigadier Jenkins had his 17th Brigade way off to the north of Baghdad at Al Taji, the city Schneider’s 4th Panzer was tasked with taking.

That division was only now arriving in the wake of the Brandenburgers, the halftracks, trucks and tanks rolling past Habbaniyah airfield, north of the river. At the same time, Brigadier Kingstone’s column was arriving at the edge of the main Baghdad airport right at dusk. His AEC-III armored cars were a welcome sight to the infantry of 6th Indian Division posted there. He wanted to get up to see Jumbo Wilson that night at the British Embassy in the heart of the city. Behind him the weary 10th Indian followed in column of march, but as all these forces converged on Baghdad, the defensive prospects for the city seemed much brighter.

Chapter 14

“Joe… Good to see you, but you’re looking a little worn from the road.” Jumbo Wilson stood to shake hands with Kingstone, knowing him well.

“Worn isn’t half a word for it,” said Kingstone. “General, I hope you’re ready for a fight here. Jerry ran circles around us on the Euphrates. I’ve never seen troops move like that. Damn good motorized infantry, and we’ll need to keep our wits about us.”

“Our infantry will do better here at Baghdad,” said Wilson. “Not that you didn’t pull your load. They caught us napping, and we paid for it. Now it’s time to get back on our feet.”

“What’s the situation up north?” Kingstone had heard no news at all. In fact, he didn’t even know if Briggs and 5th Indian had safely arrived in Iraq.

“5th Indian made it to Kirkuk, and they’re digging in for the long haul. Jerry brought in another infantry division on the main rail from Mosul—they’ve got that place now. And they’re pushing patrols over to Arbil as well. I ordered the Levy battalion there to move to Kirkuk.”

“Briggs did his damnedest to link up with us earlier, but Jerry got right between us. As for Blaxland… You might want to keep a firm rein on that one. Word is that he was sitting down to tea at the T1 Station when Jerry came for the airfield.”

“I see…” Wilson said nothing more. He could see that Kingstone was a bit agitated, and certainly worn out from two weeks fighting and 300 miles on the road. The Brigadier had more he wanted to say.

“General, you can’t try to hold a cohesive front with this lot. They’ll pick one spot on the line and punch right through. Then they go like bats out of hell on the other side. An don’t count on them hitting you from this side of the Tigris. They’ll look for a good crossing point and try to flank the city from the north. This isn’t just any division we’re up against here. It’s the bloody Brandenburgers, and we’ve identified at least five separate motorized regiments in this lot.”

“Five regiments?”

“That’s a fact. So they can hit your line with full division strength and still have two regiments to get round either flank. General, if they do get through your lines, you mustn’t waste a moment getting the men back here—to the city. We can make them pay for their lodging if they fight us here. And another thing—they’ll fight night and day; right round the clock, and by God, they want to win. So you can’t spread out along an extended front. That’s just an invitation to disaster with this bunch at our throats. Concentrate your brigades on key objectives. If it means we fight out of the corner, so be it. Better there than in the center of the ring. This bunch hits harder than Max Schmeling, so look to your ribs when he closes to attack.”

“We’re set up well if they hit us from the west,” said Wilson.

“A little too far from the city for my comfort,” said Kingstone. “I was at the airport just now, and the Germans will certainly want that bang away so they can fly in fresh ammo and supplies. Then they’ll want the rail line open to Mosul. After that, then the real fighting starts here.”

“Logical,” said Wilson, tamping down his pipe. “Well, when Blaxland comes up, we’ll have three divisions here. At the moment, 2nd British Infantry is getting after Abadan, and they may take it in another day or two.”

“The second?”

“My old outfit,” said Wilson with a smile. “Damn good troops.”

“That’s a step in the right direction,” said Kingstone. “I thought they were with Slim in Burma.”

“They were, but that front has quieted down and Wavell suggested that the stakes here were a little higher than holding the border against Tojo over there. So we’ve got the 2nd Infantry, and 7th Indian Division right after it. That will wrap things up down south, and then they can come forward to settle this business. They’ll have 7th and 9th Armored Brigades with them when they come.”

“Armor? Bloody marvelous!” Kingstone smiled for what seemed like the first time in the last month, the lines of his face deepening as he grinned.

“Forgive my manners, General,” said Wilson. “Would you care for a brandy?”

“No sir, another time. I’ll want to be getting back to the Brigade. We’re coming in right at the aerodrome. Where do you want me?”

Wilson looked at his map. “Well now, you’ve a fast outfit there. Why don’t you bring your boys on into the city and cross the Tigris to the Barracks site. If Jerry does what you suggest, you’ll be in a good spot there to parry any thrust from the northeast.”

“Very good sir, but if it’s all the same to you, I’d prefer to take the column around the city. My lads have had little more than a mouthful of desert for the last two weeks, and marching them by the bars and brothels will be a tad rough on morale.”

“Well enough, Joe. Get some rest, will you? You deserve it.”

“I’ll rest a good deal easier once we get that armor up. Oh… One thing more. There were two battalions of French Foreign Legion with our column. I left them in Karbala.” Kingstone saluted and was on his way.

The two Turkomen divisions hit the ridgeline defenses north and west of Kirkuk that morning. They had been informed that the German 78th Sturm Division was approaching the city from the west, which was the trigger for this assault. It was meant to pull in as much of the defense as possible, and it was a classic “Russian Style” infantry assault, the rifle battalions swarming forward as a mass and trying to overwhelm the more isolated battalion outposts on the ridge.

As dogged as the Turkomen infantry was, the 5th Division held its ground. They had spent the last two days digging trench lines, sewing mines and wire, and registering the three battalions of division artillery, and they made the enemy pay for climbing that rocky slope. In two places, it came to fighting right at the trench lines, hand to hand, with the Turkomen fighters brandishing curved swords, and the Indian infantry mounting countercharges with fixed bayonets. Here and there, clusters of regular British infantry that had been salted into the division stood unmoved, their Vickers MGs exacting a heavy toll. By mid-day the enemy attack had faltered, and the battalions were falling back down the slope, still harassed by artillery fire. Discouraged and badly beaten, the Turkomen Divisions decided to wait for the Germans, and there would be no further fighting for that long ridge aside from desultory artillery exchanges.

Near Baghdad, General Schneider took his 4th Panzer Division as a whole and threw it at the city of Taji, about 16 kilometers north of the capitol. It had been defended by a brigade of the 6th Indian Division, but they could not hold in the face of that attack. The crack Panzergrenadiers dismounted, fanning out into the town, their halftracks and mobile flak guns behind them in support. Two full battalions of panzers were committed, and that was simply too much.

Brigadier received permission from Wilson to withdraw, but as II Brandenburg Regiment was already between Taji and Baghdad, they had no recourse but to cross the Tigris River near Hammamiyat, and then move south on the east bank, where they would eventually come to Brigadier Kingstone’s lines. When he saw the lorried infantry coming through, the last trucks carrying the wounded and dead recovered from the fight, he shook his head.

“You can move right through our lines,” he told Brigadier Jenkins of the 17th Indian Brigade. “Set your men up as a second echelon, and you can stand as a tactical reserve. I think they’ll hit us here soon enough.” He expected an immediate attack from the north, but it did not come that day. The Germans seemed to be collecting themselves, and husbanding supplies. They were already 185 Kilometers from their depot at Hadithah, and 450 kilometers from Dier-ez-Zour. Their main depot up north on the Turkish border above Ar Raqqah was now a full 680 kilometers away. These were the kinds of lengthy supply lines Rommel had to deal with in Libya, and now Guderian had a much better appreciation of that man.

At present, his situation was not bad. There were a few battalions down to 30% to 45% supply, and he decided to rest them at Fallujah and await the next deliveries. He was also waiting on 10th Motorized, which was only now beginning to arrive on the road to Fallujah. On the 18th, he had tested the enemy defenses west of Baghdad by putting in a strong attack at Abu Ghraib. Defended by elements of the 8th Indian Division, the Punjab Battalions fought well, yielding some ground but doing so in good order, and rallying when they reached the dugout lines of the British 5th Queen’s Own Rifles. It was a well prepared position, and the Germans were stopped near dusk, when Guderian called for a pause to discuss options.

“They are going to fight us here,” he said. “Thus far we’ve identified two full Indian Divisions, one west and one north of the city.

“My men had no difficulty in Taji,” said Schneider. “We ground our way right through them.”

“That is what this may take,” said Guderian. “My every instinct here is to avoid a lengthy battle of attrition, but now I think I must revise my last order to you. With Taji in hand, I now want you to assemble your entire division, but east of the Tigris. You will attack over this ground here.” He pointed to the place where Kingstone had been forming his lines since the previous day. “If you can get in the back door, I will keep them very busy on this side with four of the five Brandenburger Regiments. The last, under Konrad, I will send north in place of that KG I spoke of earlier. They will make contact with the 78th Sturm Division, and clear the rail line to Mosul. It may be five days before we can get trains down from the depots there, so we must plan accordingly in terms of our supplies. We will probe the enemy, conduct active patrolling, but otherwise rest until the morning of the 20th. Then we make a coordinated attack from two sides.”

That rail line to Mosul was the key for Guderian. He simply had to get it open and get rolling stock moving on it at the earliest possible moment. Without it, he would have but two or three days hard fighting in terms of ammunition. Food was not an issue, nor fresh water, all things Rommel had to plan for. It was ammunition he needed most, and fuel wherever he could find it.

So what do I have on my hands here, he thought? Will this be another Volgograd on the Tigris? This is an enormous city, with a lot of concrete buildings that can serve as good strong points for the enemy. It is a warren of narrow streets, alleyways and souks. House to house fighting here could be very difficult, but that is what the Brandenburgers do best. There is no better force for this sort of fight in the world. As soon as Schmidt gets here with 10th Motorized, I will throw his two regiments right at the airfield. Then, the following day, the Brandenburgers go in full force.

The Battle of Baghdad…. That is undoubtedly what they will call it. I wonder what the historians will say about it in decades to come. Were we foolish to think we could breeze into Iraq like this and take the whole place by storm with a handful of divisions? If these attacks bog down, I may have no other option but to wait for that rail line to open, and then see about getting in more troops through Mosul. As for Kirkuk… Babab Gurgur…. That is up to Volker’s 78th Sturm Division, and his attack should be in position shortly.

There were not many Sturm Divisions in the German Army, but the 78th was one of the better ones. Created with a division structure flush with heavy weapons, it had a lavish assortment of 10cm and 12cm mortars, a battalion of heavier Nebelwerfers, and a strong Panzerjager attachment with Marder III’s and four 88’s. The infantry battalions were beefed up to 36 assault squads, with a lot of machineguns and smaller mortars. Some of these squads had been specially trained in demolitions and wire breaching for assaults against enemy strong points, hence the name “Storm Division.” Three battalions of regular artillery completed the picture.

2nd Suffolk Battalion had been posted on the road at the canal bridge near Hsar Ahmad. On the morning of the 20th, it suddenly came under a fearful barrage from all those guns, mortars and the whooshing roar of the Nebelwerfers. Only two of the three division regiments were present, the third still moving south along the Baghdad rail and fighting to clear out Levy Battalions Wilson had posted in Bayji and Tikrit. Konrad’s Lehr Regiment of the Brandenburgers had pushed north and driven another out of Samarra, and now they had worked as far north as Tikrit to link up with that Sturm Regiment.

The Turkomen Divisions, having rested two days, now put in another strong attack at the ridgeline northeast of Kirkuk, and the battle for that city was on. The blow delivered to 2nd Suffolk was withering. The men were pinned down, shrapnel flying everywhere, and casualties from the bombardment mounting. When the Storm troops came in, the fighting was fierce, but this was an assault force tailor made to attack a prepared position like this. 2nd Suffolk would lose nearly a third of its men, eventually forced back from the canal and yielding the bridge at Hsar Ahmad.

As before, the ridgeline position was held against the Turkomen divisions, but the hammer blow delivered by 78th Sturm did not arguer well. That unit could beat down one line position after another, slowly undermining Brigadier Reid’s 29th Brigade defense in the south along the main road. General Briggs found the land lines still open to Wilson’s HQ at the British Embassy in Baghdad, and he put in a call with one salient question on his mind.

“When can we expect relief up here?”

“I’m sorry, Briggo,” said Wilson, thinking Briggs had the one nickname that put his own to shame. “Jerry is here in force, both north and west of the city. We still hold Baqubah with a few levy battalions, but otherwise, there’s nothing between me and you.”

“I see…” Unlike Colonel Blaxland in temporary command of the 10th Indian, Briggs was a seasoned and well experienced officer. He had fought in East Africa and the Western Desert with Indian divisions, and the 5th was well leavened with veteran soldiers from those campaigns.

“What’s your situation?” asked Wilson.

“Well, we’re holding out, but I have to give the enemy the north end of the ridge to form a tighter line around Kirkuk. I reckon I’ve got some 30,000 Turkomen infantry on my north and east perimeter. But Jerry came up and hit us hard out near the southwest refinery. It looks like a couple regiments of good infantry there. Jumbo, I’ve as stiff an upper lip as any man you know, but this is just a matter of time up here, and I can’t say the refineries and well sites will come through this fight without a good deal of damage.”

“I understand….” Wilson considered. “Are you surrounded?”

“Not yet. The road through Taza Khormatu is still open, and the mountain track above it as well.”

“The road to Baqubah?”

“Yes sir.” Briggs let his silence ask the only remaining question. Then he spoke. “General, we’re prepared to hold on here, come what may. We’ve supply for at least another week—maybe longer.”

“Briggo,” said Wilson back. “If you did try that road, might you get through to Baqubah?”

“Well sir, we’d have to move quickly—tonight—and take to our wheels. But we’d be giving them Baba Gurgur, sir. That will make for one hell of a headline for Hitler.”

“That it will,” said Wilson. “But it’s this simple: we can’t relieve you, nor will you likely hold out for that week you have in the storeroom. You’re outnumbered three to one. Yes, they have the Father of all Fires, and all that oil that flows from it in the steel veins of the Empire, and they can bloody well choke on it. You are to place demolition charges in all the key facilities presently under your control, and then do your damnedest to fight your way out of there. I’m not prepared to sacrifice the 5th British Indian Division for that bloody oil. If you can win through, that’s all the better for us down here. Then you can come with us when we finally get up a good head of steam to retake Kirkuk.”

“Are you sure you want me to demolish the two refineries?” asked Briggs. “Won’t we need them when we come back this way?”

“We might,” said Wilson, “but I don’t think Fritz will leave them intact in that event, will he?”

“Very well, sir, I have my orders, and I will carry them out. You can tell those levies in Baqubah that we’re coming.”

“Good,” said Wilson. “It looks like they’ll have the well heads and all the pipelines to Tripoli and Haifa. I’m not sure what Hitler thinks he can do with them, but for the time being we have to show him we don’t need them.”

In spite of General Wilson’s bravado, Britain and her Allies did need those facilities, and they needed the oil that was flowing in those steel veins. Without it, all they had left to fuel their fires in the Middle East were the southern well sites at Basra and Abadan, which they had just secured from the Iranians. If they were to fall, then Britain would have to rely on oil shipments from the United States, which was the world’s greatest producer at that time. Yet it was thousands of miles away, and would have to sail over U-boat infested waters to reach British ports. As for Saudi Arabia, and the vast reserves beneath the Empty Quarter and Persian Gulf, the first commercial well had only been drilled in March of 1938, and those resources still remained largely unmeasured and undeveloped….

Chapter 15

In 1941 The British had advanced on Baghdad over the very same route as Guderian’s troops. It had been a brash and audacious move, for the force they had was no more than a Regiment, facing a full Iraqi Division in Baghdad. Yet they prevailed, toppled the incipient rebellion of Rashid Ali and his Golden Square of four Iraqi Army Colonels, and restored British rule in Iraq. Ali had fled to Germany, where he stewed in exile, publicly denouncing the British. One of his Colonels, Colonel Salah ad-Dinn as-Sabbagh, summarized their defeat by lashing out at the British saying: “There is no more murderous wolf for the Arab and no deadlier foe of Islam than Britain…. The Arabs have no future unless the British Empire comes to an end.”

Now, with the collapse of British forces in northern Iraq, it seemed as though the Colonel’s hopes could be salvaged. To Help organize Arab resistance against the British, the Germans flew both Rashid Ali and the colonel to Kirkuk, where Ali formally announced a new Iraqi Arab government forming under the protection of Nazi Germany.

The news of the abandonment of Kirkuk and Baba Gurgur enraged Churchill, but eventually Alanbrooke, Chief of the Imperial General Staff, finally convinced him that General Wilson had acted prudently, taking an enormous risk to try and save troops that Britain could ill afford to lose in a siege of Kirkuk that could have only one ending.

“They were outnumbered three to one,” he explained. “So you can either trade the Germans Kirkuk today for the 5th Indian Division, or they will take both by next Tuesday and you’ll be standing there empty handed. Wilson did what was right and expedient in the situation, and I would have done the same.”

“Well how in blazes will we ever get it back?” Churchill railed.

“All in good time,” said Alanbrooke. “2nd Division has finished up in Southern Iraq. Your consolation for the loss of Kirkuk is Abadan. We’ve got the whole thing, lock, stock and oil barrel. Now General Gordon can take his men north to Baghdad, and the 7th Indian Division has landed at Umm Qsar to take over garrison duty and security patrols for Basra and Abadan. Yes, we’ve lost Kirkuk, but with the Germans already sitting on Haditha, those pipelines are useless to us now. Any oil we get from Iraq will have to go by sea, through the Persian Gulf and up the Red Sea to Suez. There will be a temporary shortfall, but Somerville is already arranging tanker support at Cape Town, and planning the convoy schedules.”

“What about the Japanese?” Churchill fretted. “They’re still sitting on Ceylon, with aircraft slowly building up week by week.”

“My dear Winston, it’s over 1,500 miles from Colombo to those shipping lanes along the Arabian coast, and Somerville has assured Admiral Tovey that we will remain masters of the Arabian Sea. The Japanese have no serious naval threat in that region. All they have done since taking Ceylon is ferry in food, supplies, and comfort women for their soldiers there. Frankly, I think they’ve overreached themselves. The Americans have been going at them with hammer and tongs, and there’s been no incursion of enemy carriers into the Indian Ocean since their initial invasion.”

“Let us hope that remains the case,” said Churchill glumly. “Somerville didn’t come off very well the last time he faced the Imperial Japanese Navy.”

“True, but we weren’t prepared. We’ve never fought an action like that, where the carriers became the principle striking force. The Royal Navy has always relied on our battleships, and there were three in that action, but they were nothing but a distraction and nuisance to Somerville. Carriers, Winston. Admiral Tovey and I had a good long chat about them last week. He’s sent our very best to Somerville, the Ark Royal and Victorious. Along with Indomitable, Somerville has a very strong force there now. Carriers are the order of the day. The battleship is history.”

“Well at least I can agree on that point,” said Churchill. “It may interest you to know that I’ve been conspiring with Admiral Fraser on some very clever projects along those lines. And I’ve wrangled the planes to make a real difference as well—the American F6F Hellcat. A bit of a bawdy name, but I’m told the plane is very capable. It was tailor made for carrier operations, and with it, our ships can carry many more planes than before. The next time the Japanese come calling, they’ll get a real surprise if Somerville is on his game.”

“There,” said Alanbrooke, “that’s the spirit. You have it exactly. Now then—I think we can safely say that our lines of communications through the Arabian Sea are secure for the moment. Iraq is now our primary concern. Alright, we’ve lost Kirkuk, but we still hold Baghdad, and the Germans really can’t do anything more unless they take it. First off, it’s both a political and logistical necessity that they control that city. This Rashid Ali can crow all he wants from his new would be throne in Kirkuk, but as long as we control Baghdad, Iraq is ours. The Germans can’t move south to threaten Basra and Abadan without first clearing their lines of communications by taking Baghdad.”

“So it must be held,” said Churchill. “I agree completely.”

“Yes, and now that 5th Indian Division has been saved by Wilson, we’ve a fighting chance there. This General Guderian is no slouch. Alexander’s counterattack from Homs was a good spoiling attack, and it forced the Germans to leave one of their two Panzer divisions behind. Now, however, the Germans have brought in more infantry. We’ve identified three new divisions, the 31st, 34th and 45th Infantry Divisions. They’re putting them on the line opposite General Quinan, and the latest report indicates Guderian has now pulled that panzer division out and sent it east. This means the Germans will have their full mobile corps available for the Baghdad offensive, which is undoubtedly what they planned all along.”

“Damn,” said Churchill. “Just when I’m consoled with the carriers and sea lanes thing, you go and pour salt into my tea. Can Wilson hold out?”

“He’ll have four Indian divisions, and the 2nd British Infantry is arriving in just a few days.”

“Will that be enough?”

“It might,” said Alanbrooke. “But just to be on the safe side, we could send another good British Infantry Division in, and more armor, if we can find it.”

“My good man,” said Churchill. “Infantry divisions do not grow on trees! Most everything we have here in the Kingdom is still training up, and it would be two months to get a division from here to Basra.”

“Not quite…” said Alanbrooke. “You’re forgetting the 18th Infantry at Perth.”

“What? You mean the troops Montgomery evacuated from Java? Well pinch me, I have forgotten about that division. Didn’t it go to Burma?”

“It was scheduled, but Slim has the situation in hand, and the Japanese show no signs of any further offensives into India. So the 18th Remained at Perth, and it’s been fleshed out with Aussie volunteers, and brought up to snuff in terms of the Artillery and other equipment. It’s right there, Winston, and was training up for the counterattack on Ceylon. Given the circumstances, oil is more valuable to the empire now than rubber. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Precisely,” said Churchill, a light of battle blooming in his eyes.

“It’s 5,600 nautical miles from Perth to Iraq by sea; less than half the distance from Liverpool to the same destination. That’s just three weeks at sea to move the 18th Division, as opposed to six weeks or longer to send anything from here.”

“Splendid!” Churchill immediately approved the plan, even though it meant that the attack on Ceylon would have to be postponed. And so the British would pull yet one more rabbit out of their hat, and hopefully enough to foil the German plans to seize Baghdad and storm into southern Iraq.

“Thus far they’ve had it all their way with this dirty business,” said Churchill. “We thought we’d settled affairs in Iraq and Syria two years ago, but now you see what Turkey’s infidelity has cost us.”

Which brings us to another matter,” said Alanbrooke. “Alexander believes we have to take the gloves off concerning Turkey, and put the RAF onto those rail lines sustaining this new German foray into the Middle East.”

“Do you agree?”

“It would be very risky,” said Alanbrooke. “Thus far Turkey has been consorting with the Germans, but they’ve maintained a cautious stance in all these affairs. They’ve permitted the Germans to transit their territory, including the Bosporus and Dardanelles, and this new German push into the Kuban region is likely to keep them quite on edge for some time. The thing is this. Turkey really want’s nothing to do with Germany. We showed them the folly of that alliance in the First War, and by god, I think they remember it. Yet as long as Germany remains a viable force in the region, particularly with support from Orenburg now, the Turks have had no choice but to cooperate. We should have invaded Iran long ago and put that threat to rest. It would have made our wedding proposal to the Turks much more appealing. As it stands, they don’t see that we’ve any dowry to speak of, and so they’ve given us the cold shoulder. Unless we can show them that we can fight and win in the Middle East, they’ll have no good reason to throw in with us.”

“Apparently Operation Scimitar wasn’t enough,” said Churchill.

“It might have been, but Hitler had a strong force poised on the Turkish frontier, and just 120 miles from Istanbul. We cleared the Vichy French out of Syria, but never really finished the job after Scimitar. We let Jerry keep those mountain divisions in Northern Syria and the Turks could not help but notice.”

“It was all we could do at the time,” said Churchill. “And we were fortunate that we had our guests at hand to even do what we did with Scimitar.”

Those ‘Guests’ were the men and machines that had come out of the deep desert in Egypt, from a future Churchill and Brooke could scarcely imagine now. Yet now they were gone. Only the barest kernel of the force remained, hidden away on the Isle of Man in the Irish Sea, where British engineers had been learning all they could about the amazing Challenger II. While Hitler had the broken carcass of one such vehicle, the British still had a few fully functioning tanks, and Lieutenant Reeves, now made a Colonel by the British Army, was right there to explain how everything worked. It was leading to a whole new way of thinking where the design and production of British tanks was concerned, and it would soon have a dramatic impact on the war when a new British challenger appeared to counter the alarming advances in German tank design.

“We’ve stopped Rommel,” said Alanbrooke, “but the Turks know we’ve still not beaten the Germans. It may be months or longer if we can beat them in Tunisia, and even if we do, that does nothing to make the Turks more secure. Given the razor’s edge they’re sitting on now, I would have to come down against direct RAF attacks on Turkish soil. It could be the last straw for them, and send them right into Germany’s camp if we bomb. They have 50 divisions, and a million men under arms. Yes, they aren’t up to snuff compared to our forces, and they’ve no armor to speak of, but we have enough to contend with as things stand.”

“Agreed,” said Churchill. “Yes, we must be very cautious. I’ve barked at the Turks for allowing the Germans to use those rail lines, but biting them is quite another matter. There will be no bombing of targets on Turkish soil. As for the rail lines in Syria and Iraq, they are all fair game. We can achieve the same result there without forcing Turkey to make a very difficult choice that we’d all regret. The problem seems to be that the RAF is also stretched thin. Sir Arthur Harris still holds to his strategy of big raids over Germany and general area bombing. That won’t do in Syria and Iraq.”

“Yes,” said Brooke. “We need precision bombing, and it’s not something our Wellingtons do with any real effectiveness. It’s work for fighter bombers. They have to get after the locomotives, rail depots and receiving stations, yet Coningham has his forces split between O’Connor on the one side, and now this new affair in Syria. That has left very little to send to Iraq. Thankfully, the Luftwaffe is in no better shape. They’ve managed to deploy three fighter squadrons, and a few squadrons of Stukas and other aircraft, but it’s been a wash. Neither side has air superiority over Iraq now, and unless we can find the planes, that’s the way it will stay. The Germans hit Baghdad last week, thinking to take it by storm, but we held. Now they’ve paused to clear the main rail line north to Mosul. That’s their lifeline. Kirkuk gives them fuel and such for local operations. Hitler can brag all he wants about it, but the rail line to Mosul is the real jugular. If we can cut that, we can foul their entire operation.”

“Aside from finding more fighter-bombers,” said Churchill, “what could we possibly do? Wilson is holding out, but he certainly can’t go on the offensive.”

“No, that would be a direct attack in any case, even if he could take the fight to the other fellow now. This has to be work for special forces. That raid we mounted on Habbaniyah and Palmyra was rather stunning during Operation Scimitar. Those fancy helicopters might come in very handy now.”

“Shall I go to Fairchild and enlist her support? They did a bang up job with that raid at St. Nazaire.”

“True, but I think we can do the job well enough ourselves. I was thinking more of Browning’s Boys, and the SAS.”

“General Browning?”

“We have two Airborne Brigades in the Med, and a good number of Commando units as well. We might consider raids into Northern Syria and Iraq, all with the aim of disrupting and sabotaging the enemy rail lines. They’ve done the same against us. Old Glubb Pasha has had his Arab Legion out after the Brandenburg Commandos. So we have to get thinking along those same lines.”

“Do whatever is necessary,” said Churchill, determined. “I don’t have to tell you that I now view this theater as the most crucial battlefield of our war effort. It trumps anything we are planning for Tunisia, though I’m gratified from the news we’ve had from there. Iraq must not fall. The Germans have taken half the country as it stands! We simply must hold on to the rest, and then build up the strength there to push them back again. This is bigger than Ceylon; bigger than Burma, which is why I did not hesitate to take troops allocated to those theaters for deployment to Iraq. Now I think we may have to do whatever is necessary to gain the upper hand in the Middle East. If It means we gut the British 8th Army and order General O’Connor to stand on defense there, so be it.”

“He’s just kicked off his attack on the Mareth Line,” said Alanbrooke. “Surely you don’t want me to call that off.”

“Hasn’t it already had the effect we counted on? Hasn’t it forced Rommel to look over his shoulder and call off his own offensive? I say we let O’Connor get himself to a favorable position with this attack, but then I think we should move more armor back to Syria. He can get it there faster than we can ship it from the Kingdom. It follows the same logic you presented concerning the 18th Division at Perth. Do get those troops moving at once, and then tell General O’Connor that we need more from him, and make it stick. I know we’re robbing Peter to pay Paul, but we’ve no other choice.”

There came a knock on the door, and a Staff Officer came in with a message, handing it off to Alanbrooke, who read it with one raised eyebrow. “Well,” he shrugged, “we’ve another fine mess on our hands. Bletchley Park was correct. The Germans sortied with their Mediterranean Squadron last night. It was seen in the Tyrrhenian Sea this morning.”

“What’s it doing there?” Churchill set down his teacup, obviously concerned.

“Hut Four picked up signals that it was bound for Italian ports. The Germans think Toulon is too vulnerable. Yet one analyst thinks that’s just rubbish, our Mister Turing.”

“He’s a better explanation?”

“Yes sir. Turing thinks the Germans are going to hit Crete, and to my mind that is the most likely reason for this deployment. That would explain why all those German transport planes went to Athens—not for Syria as we first thought, but for Crete.”

“Damn,” said Churchill. “And it could not come at a worse time. We both know the garrison on Crete isn’t strong enough to last a week if the Germans attack there in earnest.”

“I’ve been meaning to send more troops,” said Alanbrooke, “but after the Aussies and New Zealanders went home, all we could find was the Carpathian Brigade. It’s posted up near Maleme, but You’re correct—Crete is a lost cause. We really aren’t ready to begin full scale bombing operations into the Balkans, and we’ve just ruled out staging raids on Turkey. Besides, we can still hit Ploesti when we’re ready, and do so from Alexandria, Beirut, or fields near Jerusalem. Crete has been hanging out there like an untucked shirt. We can’t really defend it, unless Cunningham keeps a squadron at sea round the clock.”

“Then you don’t advise reinforcing it?”

“I do not. In fact, I would advise the garrison to make plans to withdraw. Crete is useful as a place to stage fighters and interdict surrounding sea lanes, but if it is attacked, we simply haven’t the wherewithal to hold onto it. Cunningham should be advised to plan for a rescue operation, nothing more.”

“But what about the Bismarc k? This is a chance to get that ship, just like Tovey did in the Hindenburg.”

“Cunningham has Nelson and Warspite. Neither one can make much over 20 knots, and Bismarck runs ten knots faster. The French battleship is with it—the Normandie.”

“I see,” said Churchill, his mood darkening. “Now’s the time I wish we had those carriers in hand we spoke of earlier. We’ll have more soon enough. But for now, send that order to Cunningham as you advise. It will be yet another feather in Hitler’s cap, and one we’ll just have to pluck out again later this year—god willing.”