Crescendo Of Doom (27 page)

When the smoke and debris cleared, the squat shape of the tank was still there in the depression, scarred and blackened by the blast of the bomb, still as death, and with a fire burning there that slowly sent a thick clot of black smoke up over the scene.

They watched for some minutes, waiting, until they finally came to believe the monster was dead. Slowly, a few sections of infantry began to pick their way towards the scene, until they heard a dull growl, and the rumble of something coming over a slight elevation rise some meters off. There, cresting the low hillock, was the most threatening looking armored beast they had ever seen. It looked like a great metal crab, with three arms and a huge spiked, V shaped shovel that glowered like the teeth of a shark.

The men turned and fled for their lives, as the Trojan AVRE came on the scene, its 7.62 MG spitting out fire in warning that sent any other man in the vicinity to a rapid retrograde movement. Riding on a Challenger chassis, and with the same heavy Chobam armor, the Trojan was even more threatening looking than the enemy the
Stukas
had finally managed to kill. With the retreat of 15th Panzers now gaining momentum, no one left on the scene wanted anything to do with that tank. The last of the infantry leapt atop a German flak carrier and sped away, preferring to be alive with a whopper of a story to tell, than to be dead and ground beneath the tracks and shovel of that evil looking engineering tank.

So it was that Kinlan’s Royal Engineers found their fallen comrade, and soon had the Challenger hitched up for recovery, with a troop of infantry standing by on overwatch in a pair of AFVs. They dragged the fallen behemoth away, back over the ground of that breakthrough zone, until they reached the engineering park near Wadi Nullah. They were under strict orders that no modern vehicle was ever to be left on the field to be found by the enemy, and now they would pick over the bones of this carcass, to recover anything of any value it still might hold, including the remains of Jake Martin, Cooper, and “Happy Happer, all dead from the shock of that hit.

By this time Kinlan had surmised that his attack had gone off as expected. All the German formations cut off to the south were now hot footing it back towards Bir Hacheim, and the 90th light, after putting in a futile counterattack near the northern rim of the breakthrough zone, was now also disengaging and falling back to the northwest. O’Connor’s 2nd and 7th Armored were nipping at the heels of the retreating enemy, but the German formations were still in good order, moving in hastily formed columns and leaving behind small rear guards that imposed caution on the WWII era tankers.

As for Kinlan’s 7th Brigade, he gave orders for the unit to stop and re-form on a road that led north towards a small settlement called Acroma. If they followed that road to reach that place, they would be behind all the forces Rommel was hastily extracting from the Tobruk fortified zone, cutting off the Trento and Ariete Armored divisions in the process.

“General,” said Kinlan. “I can have my brigade reassembled within the hour. Do you want me to continue north towards the coast?”

“Well,” said O’Connor, “we haven’t any idea what’s out there, aside from three or four enemy divisions. Frankly, given the situation concerning your use of ammunition, it might be best for you to wait until we can collect the rest of the army. My own brigades are well scattered to the south, and I’ve little in the way of infantry prepared to move west at the moment. Hold until we get news of what’s happening at Tobruk.”

Chapter 24

Rommel
took the news of the enemy counterattacks with a quiet, restrained frustration. He had stopped O’Connor, baiting him with that feint against Bir el Gobi by Herff’s 15th Panzers. He had rejoiced when the Italian Ariete Division had bravely fought all night on that first day to lay bare the entrance to Tobruk’s fortified outer ring. Then he had sent in his shock troops, the handpicked men of the Hermann Goering Brigade, and they had made remarkable gains in the last 18 hours, pushing all the way to King’s Cross and Fort Solano. In all this fighting, there had been no sign of the enemy heavy armor, and he was hopeful it still remained in Syria. Now this.

Herff was reporting a strong enemy attack had pushed right through the defensive line to his north. That was our one weak spot, thought Rommel. Herff must have moved a little too far south with his feint, and it extended his flank there where the German line ran north along Wadi Nullah to reach the positions held by the 90th Light.

Flak guns and just two battalions of infantry held that zone, and now it was Rommel’s turn to bite his lip when his enemy declined to fall on that hardened southern flank where he had posted Hörnlein’s elite troops in waiting.

They aren’t stupid, he thought. This O’Connor is a cagey one. He danced around that flank all day yesterday, but he was merely probing, waiting, and now I see why. They were staging for this attack!

The reports coming in from the front set off that pulse of fear and alarm in him. Tanks—massive, fast, hard hitting enemy tanks, and this time in good numbers. They were breaking through that exposed segment of the line, and would cut off both 15th Panzers and Grossdeutschland in little time. He could not leave them there, and Herff, knowing he could not sit in place, had already begun to disengage, always a dangerous and often costly operation of war.

Now this damn infantry attack on the outer line of the fortifications presented another problem. He had all of the Hermann Goering Brigade, and most of the fighting elements of his own 5th Light Division, deep inside the perimeter. If the enemy was able to re-occupy those damn block houses astride the main road… This place could become a cauldron of doom, he thought.

We’ve got round the flank of the Australian 9th, and the enemy was throwing every scratch unit they could find onto the line. His crack battalions were pushing on through, but the rest of the Australian 9th Division had stayed in its defensive positions, and Rommel knew the Italians on the other side of that wall would not be enough to force them out.

We had to fight all night to penetrate this far. The harbor is just another four or five kilometers, and by all accounts I already have a few armored cars out there. One of my staffers jubilantly sent out a message that Tobruk had fallen, and I’ll have that man stewed! The Goering Brigade fought hard, but the men are exhausted. How far will that penetration to the south go? Which direction will it turn? North, of course, they will turn north and then they’ll have 90th Light in a cauldron as well. Where were those
Stukas
I was promised?

Even as he said that, he knew where they were—back on the air strips waiting to take off. The attack had come in well before dawn. I’m told the British put in artillery fire that was so accurate it obliterated most of our 88s before they ever had a chance to fire. It was Bir el Khamsa all over again. Now these tanks come through, and we simply cannot stop them. Come sunrise, let’s hope the
Stukas
have some good hunting, otherwise…. It is a long way back to Mersa Brega again.

This attack had completely reversed the situation that had looked so promising over the last three days. Now his plan had failed. He knew it in his bones, in spite of a stubborn streak that wanted to refuse to admit that. He was to be the German General beaten not only once, but twice, and that thought scalded him, reddening his neck and cheeks.

Yes, Tobruk was falling, but it would not be taken that day. He could not stay here. Herff knew what was necessary now, and when the Headquarters of the 90th Light reported enemy movement well behind his front line and coming north, Rommel’s worst fears were realized. He had to withdraw.

“Get a message to Herff and Hörnlein. They are to fall back on our depot at Bir Hacheim at once. As for our troops inside the fortress, get them out—now!”

“But Herr General, we have broken through. Our men can see the port!”

“Yes? Well I hope they enjoy the view, because if we are still here by noon, they’ll most likely be shipping out through that port—to a British prison camp! Now get them out I tell you!”

* * *

General
Montgomery also had a good view of the harbor that morning, aghast to see the arrival of German armored cars! They had not come in strength, and could only put out harassing fire across the bay where he had his headquarters, but he knew that situation could change quickly.

If this lot is here, then they pushed through our blocking position at King’s Cross. I threw every man I could find on the line, flak units, air field service personnel, rail crews, medics and supply troops. I’ve trained every battery of artillery we had at them, but damn if they just keep coming.

He put down his binoculars, annoyed by the rattle of an enemy machinegun raking the quay. Then he spied that Martini-Enfield rifle the Sergeant Major had fetched for him, common with the Australian and New Zealand troops at this stage of the war, and decided enough was enough.

“Sir, best take cover. We’re under fire!”

“I can see that you blithering fool! And do you suppose I’m going to just sit here and take it?” Monty had that rifle up and was taking aim, his beady eye sighting down the long barrel, and his thin finger hard on the trigger. He fired three shots, more to quell his own frustration than to do any real harm to the enemy. Later he would lord over the moment, saying he had to take a rifle in hand himself to stop Rommel at Tobruk. At that time he knew nothing of Brigadier Kinlan’s attack, or that his own situation would soon find relief with Rommel’s order to pull his men out of the fortress.

As if those three rounds had marked the high water line of Rommel’s fortunes, and the low ebb of his own, word soon came that there were signs the Germans were pulling back. They had assault squads poised to make an attack on Fort Solano, and Montgomery fully expected his rifle might soon have to be put to use in earnest, but that moment never came. Rommel was pulling out. One report after another came in, as the
Fallschirmjagers
and troops of the Goering Brigade made a skillful withdrawal, much to the relief of the weary defenders on the last thin line of resistance.

By all rights, that staffer Rommel had promised to stew had been correct. He had, indeed, taken Tobruk, but he could not stay there long enough for that to become a fact of war, or to savor any sense of the victory. Instead he was now planning how he might get his army to some ground he could hold, and save what was left of his vaunted new Afrika Korps.

For his part, Montgomery would make the most of the heroic stand his reserve units had made, though most of the 1st Army Tank Brigade had been shredded and the Carpathians badly mauled as well. Yet he held, Montgomery of Tobruk, and that played well at home. But another name was soon in the papers as well, that of General O’Connor, and the story of his 7th Armored Brigade was also making the press.

The only rub was that the men of the real 7th Armored Brigade had nothing whatsoever to do with that attack, and when they heard the news later that they were being trumpeted back home, they simply scratched their heads. The bloody reporters got at least one thing correct—they had stopped Rommel again, and that was enough.

* * *

The
Germans and Italians fell back on Gazala, and the area near Mechili where an airfield and forward supply depot had been established. Rommel spent all the next day coordinating the withdrawal, taking stock of what he still had in hand, and trying to determine whether he could hold on. He screened the approach to Derna through the airfield at Timimi with the Italian formations, and consolidated his Afrika Korps further south, below Mechili, guarding the desert track that would cut across Cyrenaica to Agedabia, and eventually reach his starting point at Mersa Brega.

Back home in Germany, Hitler had been busy with the final preparations for Barbarossa, but had taken some interest when he learned Rommel had begun to advance again. The reports that he had swept over Cyrenaica, running the British and Australians out of the Jebel country, and capturing many airfields in the process had been encouraging. Then came the news that Tobruk had been invested, and an assault there was in the works. He was dining in Berlin when an aide came in with the report Rommel’s staffer had sent, that Tobruk had fallen.

“Good news,” he said over his wine. “Though it hardly matters now. It’s a little too late to have much of an effect on the real war. That comes in just a few days time, when Sergei Kirov gets more than a little surprise for picking the wrong side of this business. That said, send General Rommel my congratulations, and ask him how soon he plans to be at the Suez Canal this time.”

When Rommel got that message he was sitting in his tent at Mechili airfield, reviewing reports on the action that had thankfully concluded with nightfall on the 11th of May. He was taking stock of his forces, chastened again and forced on the defensive, with all thoughts of offensive operations long gone.

15th Panzers suffered 30% casualties, and lost a good deal of its flak elements, and some artillery as well. I/8th Panzer Battalion had 15 Pz IIs, 16 Pz IIIs and only 5 Pz IVs, a total of 36 tanks, losing another 40 during the three day battle. II/8th Battalion fared a little better, and still had 58 of its initial allotment of 80 tanks. The grenadier battalions had suffered equal losses in infantry and trucks. 90th Light division would again make that name more suitable. It had been built up to a full three regiments before the offensive commenced, but now could muster manpower only equivalent to two regiments. The vaunted Herman Goering Brigade had taken severe casualties as well. Only Hörnlein’s Regiment seems to have come off unscathed. Grossdeutschland is largely intact, he thought.

“It took us three months to build up forces and supplies for this attack,” he muttered to his Chief of Staff, “then just three days of fighting to wreck the entire Korps again. Where were all those
Stukas
I was promised? Where was the navy? They should have been off the coast pounding Tobruk the whole time!”