by Unknown
Such was the criticism. The grounds for it were inherent both in Rommel himself and in his method of command. He was a man who insisted on “running his own show.” It was inevitable that he should often overrule his subordinate commanders. It was his nature to do so with little ceremony. It was equally inevitable that senior German officers should dislike a system practised in the past by Napoleon but outmoded in modern war, if only because in modern war direct personal command is seldom possible. To do them justice, the criticism was invariably and immediately qualified. Rommel was the bravest of the brave; he had a sixth sense in battle; he was wonderful with troops; when he had quieted down it was always possible to talk to him; if he gave orders over one's head he would apologise afterwards; he was generous with praise and would admit when he had been wrong. Could they think of any one better for desert war, I asked them. No, they all agreed, nor of any one half as good.
II. NOSTR'ALLEATI ITALIANI
The Afrika Korps was homogeneous. The Axis forces in North Africa were not entirely so. There were, also the Italians. Poor Italians, they have almost taken the place in military legend of our own “oldest allies” in the first war.
Rommel naturally had his stock of stories which were retailed to Manfred, with additions by Aldinger. There was, for example, the story of the attack which the Italians were persuaded to launch at Tobruk. When they were half-way across and out of reach of the Germans, they dropped their arms and put their hands up. Suddenly they turned about and came scampering back. “Mamma mia!” they explained breathlessly, “those aren't English, they're Australians!”
Again, Rommel was visiting their trenches when the Australians made a local attack. “Santa Maria!” cried the Italians and fell on their knees. “I'm going to give you a bit of advice,” said Rommel to the Italian officer in command. “Stop them praying and persuade them to shoot.... This is where I leave you. Good-bye!”
The story that the Australians had sent back Italian prisoners with the seats cut out of their breeches and a message to the Germans to replace them with an equivalent number of the Afrika Korps, I regarded with some distrust. I remembered that the Germans were said to have done exactly the same with our oldest allies after an attempted raid in 1918 at Merville. In that case, however, their backsides were painted blue and the message from the Germans was to the effect that when they wanted specimens they would come and collect them. The British need not, therefore, bother to send them over. There was a suspicious similarity about those stories and I should not be surprised if they are as old as war itself.
On the whole Rommel agreed with the Italian soldier who said to him: “Why don't you Germans do the fighting, General, and let us Italians build the roads?” But he never thought that they were all cowards. The Ariete Armoured Division fought very well at El Gubi and elsewhere: Brescia was not too bad. There was a good battalion commanded by a Major Montemuro. The pioneers were all good and worked well, even under fire. Properly officered, given decent equipment and a prospect of home leave, he felt that something might have been made of them. (General Speidel told me that the northern Italian divisions of General Garibaldi's 8th Italian Army, to which he was Chief of Staff, fought well in Russia under much worse conditions.) The equipment, like the officers, was worthless. The early Italian tanks were only “sardine-tins” and many tanks and armoured cars had no radio sets and had to communicate by flags.
Since this must have been known to Mussolini and since, as appears from Ciano's Diaries, he had the profoundest comtempt for his unfortunate fellow-countrymen and for all his generals, it remains a mystery how he expected them to “live like lions.” Nevertheless, though no lions, some of them had a slightly pathetic admiration for Rommel. At a meeting of his Council of Ministers on February 7th, 1942, Mussolini, after his usual attack on the Italian generals, described how “the Bersaglieri are enthusiastic about Rommel. They give him their feather and carry him in triumph on their shoulders, shouting that with him they are sure to reach Alexandria.” The incident may have been embellished for the occasion. Nevertheless, Rommel had a paternal way with Italian “other ranks” which made himsimpatico to them.
To the Italian High Command and to Italian officers he was notsimpatico in the least. The officers as a class he considered contemptible. He was especially horrified to learn that there were three scales of rations for Italian troops in the desert, one for officers, one for N.C.O.s and one for other ranks, in sharply descending order. That the officers did not attempt to look after their men, he attributed to the fact that they had “no military tradition.” But that did not excuse, in his eyes, their too evident reluctance to acquire one. (He made an exception of the Air Force, which produced some dashing fighter-pilots.) For their part, Italian officers regarded him as a rough, rude man, always demanding impossibilities. Since he was always nominally under Italian command, disputes on the higher levels were inevitable. General Garibaldi, with whom he first had to deal, he found a genial old gentleman, quite a good soldier and, what was more important to Rommel, prepared to let him have his way. General Bastico, whom he christened “Bombastico,” was more troublesome. Though General Bayerlein described him as “nix” and “nul,” Bastico had ideas of his own. After the Sidi Rezegh battle in December, 1941, he came over with Kesselring to Gazala and quarrelled with Rommel about his intention of withdrawing to Agedabia. It would have a very bad effect in Italy and might cause a revolution. Rommel replied that he could guarantee only one thing, that he was going to get the Afrika Korps out. If the Italians liked to stay where they were, that was their affair. Conversely, there was Bastico's attempt to prevent the advance into Egypt, already mentioned in the last chapter.
Then there was General Count Ugo Cavallero, Chief of Staff after the resignation of Badoglio in December, 1940.
Because he spoke German as well as Italian and gave the impression of a competent staff officer, Rommel was at first inclined to trust him. He was also dependent on him for his supplies. Ciano paints Cavallero's portrait with the loving care which one Italian gangster is always ready to lavish on another. “A perfect bazaar-trader who has found the secret way to Mussolini's heart and is ready to follow the path of lies, intrigue and imbroglio. He must be watched; a man who can bring great trouble to us.... Among the many insincere individuals that life puts into circulation every day, Cavallero easily carries off the palm.... To-day, with his artificial, hypocritical and servile optimism, he was unbearable... A shameless liar.... He would bow to the public lavatories if this would advance him.... A dangerous clown, ready to follow every German whim without dignity... the servant of the Germans... deliberately deceiving the Duce.” When Mussolini proposed, after Rommel's promotion to Field-Marshal, to make Cavallero one also, because otherwise he was “between Rommel and Kesselring, like Christ between the thieves,” Ciano protested. “Bastico's promotion,” he said, “will make people laugh, Cavallero's will make them indignant.”
Lastly came the Duce himself. To any one still inclined to suppose that only dictatorships can get things done, because only dictators know their own minds, it is instructive to study Mussolini's attitude towards Rommel, as recorded by Ciano. In May, 1941, having read an order of the day which Rommel is said to have addressed to the Italian divisional commanders, threatening to denounce them to military tribunals, he is considering a personal protest to Hitler. On December 5th, 1941, he is “so proud of having given the command to the Germans....” On December 17th, when the battle went wrong, “he blames Rommel who, he believes, spoilt the situation with his recklessness.” By February 7th, 1942, after Rommel's counter-attack, he “extols Rommel, who is always in his tank at the head of his attacking columns.” On May 26th, “Mussolini now interests himself only in the coming offensive in Libya and he is definitely optimistic. He maintains that Rommel will arrive at the Delta unless he is stopped, not by the British but by our own generals.” On June 22nd, he is “in very good humour and preparing to go to Africa. In reality he was the man behind th
e decisive attack, even against the opinion of the High Command. Now he fears that they may not realise the magnitude of the success and therefore fail to take advantage of it. He only trusts Rommel....”
Four days later he is "pleased over the progress of operations in Libya but angry that the battle is identified with Rommel, thus appearing more as a German than an Italian victory.
Also Rommel's promotion to Field-Marshal, 'which Hitler evidently made to accentuate the German character of the battle,' causes the Duce much pain. Naturally he takes it out on Graziani 'who has always been seventy feet underground in a Roman tomb at Cirene, while Rommel knows how to lead his troops with the personal example of the general who lives in his tank.'“ On July 21st, he is in a good humour and is so certain of reaching the Delta that he has left his personal baggage in Libya. Still, he has ”naturally been absorbing the anti-Rommel talk of the Italian commander in Libya.“ On the 23rd, he has ”realised that even Rommel's strategy has its ups-and-downs.“ By September 9th, he is ”angry with Rommel,“ who has accused Italian officers of revealing plans to the enemy. On September 27th, he is ”convinced that Rommel will not come back. He finds him physically and morally shaken.“ By January 5th, 1943, he has ”only harsh words for Cavallero and for 'that madman Rommel, who thinks of nothing but retreating in Tunisia.' "
No Cavallero, Rommel was hardly up to dealing with dictators. He liked Mussolini when he first met him, precisely because he seemed to be a man who knew his own mind and could give an order. Naively he imagined that Mussolini was his friend. He did not realise how quickly Il Duce's friendship shifted with the breeze of fortune. Fortunately Rommel could see a joke, even against himself. In 1942 he was summoned to Rome to discuss supplies. When he entered that enormous room in the Palazzo Venezia he spotted, lying on the immense desk, the insignia of the Italian order for valour. Rightly he guessed that it was intended for him. The discussion grew heated. When Rommel rashly said something disparaging about the Italian navy, Mussolini glared at him. Then he seized the order, pulled open a drawer, flung it in and locked the desk. “It was a beautiful thing,” said Rommel ruefully.
“Why couldn't I have kept my silly mouth shut for another ten minutes? He couldn't very well have asked me to hand it back.”
There was something to be said on the Italian side, however. Tact was not Rommel's strong point. When he was about to make his counter-attack in January, 1942, he did not tell his Italian superiors about it, for fear there should be a “leak.” He merely instructed his “Q” staff to pin up the orders for it in the Italian back-area messes after the advance had started. Since this was the first news the Italian General Staff bad had of it they were understandably indignant. Rommel was sent for. He replied that he was in the front line but would be glad to see General Bastico there. General Bastico did not appear. Some days later Rommel was told that he proposed to withdraw all Italian troops. Rommel said that it was all the same to him if he did. This cost him his first decoration-and the affection of General Bastico.
Feeling also ran high on the Italian side over the delicate matter of the division of loot. There was in existence an official agreement, drafted, one can only suppose, by Cavallero, under which the Italians were to hand over to the Germans everything they captured in Russia while the Germans were to surrender to the Italians the spoils of war in North Africa. It is unlikely that the first head of the agreement was often invoked: the Italians complained bitterly of the non-observance by their allies of the second. “There is violent indignation against the Germans because of their behaviour in Libya,” writes Ciano in the summer of 1942. “They have grabbed all the booty. They have thrust their claws everywhere, placed German guards over the booty and woe to any one who comes near.” No one can squeal more shrilly than the hijacked mobster and it was fortunate for Rommel that he was too much of a big shot and too well protected to be taken for a ride. What made Ciano even more furious was that “the only one who has succeeded in getting plenty for himself is Cavallero....”
The Axis allies were not, therefore, the best of bedfellows. Nevertheless, in summing up the Italians to Manfred, Rommel made a not ungenerous and refreshingly un-German remark. “Certainly they are no good at war,” he said. “But one must not judge everyone in the world only by his qualities as a soldier: otherwise we should have no civilisation.”
We English told much the same stories against the Italians. We were naturally bitter about having been stabbed in the back by our allies of the first war and were not inclined to differentiate between the Italian people and the regime under which they lived. In battle we regarded them as the “poor relations” and camp-followers of the Germans. But officers of the Indian divisions remembered that they had fought well at Keren. Later, many thousands of us who were “on the run” in Italy and were sheltered, fed and helped on our way by thecontadini , at the risk of their lives, formed a very different opinion of the courage of individual Italians and their wives and daughters and felt that it would not be long before the tradition of friendship between our two countries would be restored. I, for one, shall never forget Frederico and Antonio Alberici, in whose house, a mile from the prison-camp, I lived gaily and happily for weeks, mostly under the wine-casks,nella cantina , while the Germans passed the front door and Farinacci, over the radio, nightly threatened death to any Italians who should befriend us.
Nor shall I forget the enchanted summer, our first in Europe since the war, that we spent at Tremezzo and the friends we made there. The Italians may not be a military nation but they have a lively intelligence, gaiety and good hearts. Rommel was right to see that it is such qualities which constitute civilisation-though a rougher soldiery may still be needed to defend it..
III. CIVIL WAR
Towards his enemy, Rommel's attitude was one of friendly if sometimes suspicious hostility. Like all Germans, he resented at first our employment of Indian divisions against Europeans, until he encountered 4th Indian Division and discovered that the Indian soldier was at least as well-disciplined and “correct” as any in the desert. He could not resist a mild sneer, for propaganda purposes, at the “coloured English” who accompanied the South Africans, though he knew very well that they were non-combatants.
The Australians he considered rough, particularly with the Italians, but it was the sort of roughness which amused him and did not show “a bad heart.” He ranked Australians highly as individual fighting-men but thought that they were inclined to get out of hand.
He would have liked a division of them but remarked that an army of Australians would not be an easy command. The South Africans he considered good material but too raw, though he gave credit to their armoured cars and acknowledged that they later fought very well at Alamein. For the New Zealanders he had a great and lasting admiration. They were, he always maintained to Manfred, Aldinger and others, the finest troops on our side.
The British he respected-as promising amateurs. He even went so far as to admit that, for small, independent operations, requiring great personal initiative, such as those of the Long Range Desert Group and the S.A.S. (Special Air Service), they were better than the Germans, who would not have had the same confidence or shown so much enterprise far behind the enemy lines. (It is fair to recall that the L.R.D.G. contained a high proportion of New Zealanders though it was organised and commanded by British regular officers.)
British regular formations were, he thought, stubborn and brave in defence but insufficiently trained. He made an exception of 7th Armoured Division, particularly of the two Rifle battalions of the Support Group, the nth Hussars and the artillery. Nevertheless he thought that in tank actions our armoured units and even single tanks were far too much inclined to go bald-headed into the attack. His criticism that we used armour in penny packets and thus invited its destruction in detail has been echoed by British military critics. The British system of command he naturally thought too slow, involved and clogged with paper. In spite of many inquiries I cannot discover that he expresse
d any opinion about any individual British general except General Wavell, whose campaign against the Italians would, he declared, always be studied as a supreme example of bold planning and daring execution with small resources. His assessment of his opponents was thus strictly professional and unemotional. He certainly did not hate or even dislike them: for New Zealanders, individually and collectively, he had almost an affection.
“The war in North Africa was a gentleman's war,” said General Johann Cramer, last commander of the Afrika Korps, to a correspondent ofThe Times , when it was all over. Rommel also took pride in the clean record of his troops (and of ours), for he had strong views on correct conduct and the observance of the soldier's code. There was nothing remarkable about that. They were shared by the great majority of German regular officers, particularly those who were serving before 1933. In the higher ranks, there were only a few exceptions, the Keitels and the Jodls, who had sold out so completely to Hitler that they were prepared to transmit, even if they did not approve, his most outrageous orders.
To us this survival of chivalry came as a surprise. Knowing nothing of the feud between the Party and the Wehrmacht, of the Nazis' jealousy of the Army, of the contempt of the officer class for the “brown scum,” of the long, if weak-kneed, opposition of many generals to their F�hrer, we naturally lumped all Germans together. In war it was perhaps as well to do so.
Nations, by and large, get the governments they deserve. If they put up with Hitlers and Mussolinis they must take the consequences. Their enemies cannot be expected to draw nice distinctions between the wearers of different varieties of the same uniform. Nevertheless it can now be conceded that, whatever it may have done in Poland and Russia, the regular German Army in Africa fought a clean war. Strangely enough, it fought a cleaner one than in 1914-18. Perhaps because there was less hand-to-hand fighting, perhaps because the officers were on better terms with their men, perhaps because General von Seeckt and his successors had established a better tradition, there was, in the desert, none of the killing of prisoners which one remembers, on both sides, in World War I. (The fact that it was much easier to be taken prisoner in the desert, through no fault of one's own, may also have had something to do with it.)
