Desmond Young - Rommel, The Desert Fox

by Unknown

  “Germans are literally minded, in addition to having a tragic lack of humour. Rommel impressed me as an outstanding exception and that impression grew stronger with every senior German officer I had the misfortune to meet. On the occasions when he met our troops either 'as prisoners or wounded he greeted them as one soldier meeting others and treated them very fairly. Brigadier Hargest, who was captured at Sidi Azeiz in late November, 1941, and was taken into Bardia by Rommel, formed the same impression. I think he comments on it in his book,Farewell Campo 12.” (Brigadier Hargest was pulled up by Rommel for not saluting. “That did not prevent him from congratulating me on the fighting quality of my men,” he wrote.)

  Clifton's story is creditable to both sides. There is a somewhat macabre footnote to it which shows that Rommel was not the only German with a rough sense of humour. During the first interview, while Clifton was being interrogated, the interpreter, Major Burchardt, who spoke excellent English, himself intervened. “You were in Crete, I think, Brigadier Clifton?” he said. “So was I, with the German paratroops. At the end of an action I came across the body of one of your native soldiers, Maoris you call them, don't you? Alongside it were 27 ears, on a string. Theymay , of course, have been British ears; theymay have been Cretan ears. But we were inclined to believe that they were German ears.” Burchardt smiled. Clifton did not. The anecdote may have been well-founded but he felt that it was ill-timed.

  Hospital-ships were a sore point with Rommel. He was indignant when he heard that the Royal Navy was pulling them into Malta for examination, furious when it was reported that they had been attacked by the R.A.F. at sea.

  Drafting a strong note of protest, he was somewhat shaken to learn that an Italian general, frightened of flying the Mediterranean, had taken a passage in a hospital-ship as a stretcher-case and had been removed, unwounded, at Malta. His final disillusionment came at a conference in July before El Alamein. Rommel was complaining bitterly about being halted for lack of petrol. Three tankers had just been sunk in two days.

  Cavallero reassured him. Other means had already been adopted to keep him supplied. Petrol was being sent over in the double-bottoms of hospital-ships! Rommel turned on him. “How can I protest against British interference with hospital-ships when you do things like that?” he demanded. Cavallero was surprised and hurt.

  To sum up the spirit in which the desert war was fought, I may quote General von Ravenstein. “When I reached Cairo,” he said, "I was received very courteously by General Auchinleck's A.D.C. Then I was taken to see General Auchinleck himself in his office. He shook hands with me and said: 'I know you well by name. You and your division have fought with chivalry. I wish to treat you as well as possible.'

  “Before I left Cairo I heard that General Campbell had been awarded the Victoria Cross. I asked and obtained permission to write to him. I still have a copy of my letter if it would interest you.”

  The letter read:

  Abbasia, February 10th, 1942

  DEAR MAJOR-GENERAL CAMPBELL,

  I have read in the paper that you have been my brave adversary in the tank battle of Sidi-Rezegh on November 21-22, 1941. It was my 21st Panzer Division which has fought in these hot days with the 7th Armoured Division, for whom I have the greatest admiration. Your 7th Support Group of Royal Artillery too has made the fighting very hard for us and I remember all the many iron that flew near the aerodrome around our ears.

  The German comrades congratulate you with warm heart for your award of the Victoria Cross.

  During the war your enemy, but with high respect.

  VON RAVENSTEIN

  “Jock” Campbell was killed soon afterwards, when his car overturned near Buq-Buq. But he lived long enough to receive the letter and to have copies of it posted on battery order boards, soon after the presentation parade at which he received the V.C.

  There are two opinions on the question of chivalry in war. General Eisenhower holds the other. “When von Arnim was brought through Algiers on his way to captivity,” he writes inCrusade in Europe , "some members of my staff felt that I should observe the custom of bygone days and allow him a call on me. The custom had its origin in the fact that mercenary soldiers of old had no real enmity towards their opponents. Both sides fought for the love of a fight, out of a sense of duty or, more probably, for money. A captured commander of the eighteenth century was likely to be, for weeks or months, the honoured guest of his captor. The tradition that all professional soldiers are comrades-in-arms has, in tattered form, persisted to this day.

  "For me, World War II was far too personal a thing to entertain such feelings. Daily as it progressed there grew within me the conviction that, as never before in a war between many nations, the forces that stood for human good and men's rights were this time confronted by a completely evil conspiracy with which no compromise could be tolerated. Because only by the utter destruction of the Axis was a decent world possible, the war became for me a crusade....

  “In this specific instance, I told my Intelligence Officer to get any information he possibly could out of the captured generals but that, so far as I was concerned, I was interested only in those who were not yet captured. None would be allowed to call on me. I pursued the same practice to the end of the war. Not until Field-Marshal Jodl signed the surrender terms at Rheims in 1945 did I ever speak to a German general and even then my only words were that he would be held personally and completely responsible for the carrying out of the surrender terms.”

  General Eisenhower is a wise and generous man, with whom no one would willingly disagree. His attitude is a perfectly logical and intelligible one. Nevertheless, there are some who feel that even tattered traditions may be worth preserving if, when wars are over, victors and vanquished still have to live and work together in the same world.*

  [* Not long before his death, the late Field-Marshal Earl Wavell sent to Frau Rommel a copy of his lectures on generalship, inscribed “To the memory of a brave, chivalrous and skilful opponent.” As such he would have treated Rommel had he fallen into his hands, for that was our experience of Rommel in Libya.

  But no one who knew Lord Wavell would suppose that his detestation of the flag under which Rommel served was any less deep than that of General Eisenhower-or my own. Both points of view are defensible and interminably arguable. I happen to agree with Field-Marshals Wavell and Auchinleck. But I am ready to admit that General Eisenhower may be right.]

  Desmond Young - Rommel, The Desert Fox

  CHAPTER 9

  To Tunis and Surrender

  We left Rommel, at the end of June, knocking, not very peremptorily, at the gates of Alexandria. He was now up against something hitherto unknown in the desert, a position that could not be turned. The British right flank rested on the sea, its left, forty miles south, on the “impassable” quicksands of the Qattara Depression. (Randall Plunkett of the Guides Cavalry found himself unpopular with the planning staff in Cairo when he succeeded in bringing his armoured cars across them from Siwa during the retreat.) Moreover, the position had been more thoroughly prepared for defence than the Germans imagined.

  The Eighth Army was, however, very far from being entirely on the defensive. The general impression in England, even to-day, seems to be that, having fallen back completely routed from the frontier, it remained cowed and cowering at El Alamein while a panic-stricken staff in Cairo burnt mountains of paper and made ready for a retreat into Palestine or East Africa. Then, so runs the popular legend, General Montgomery arrived out of the skies and, having re-created or, indeed, created it, at once turned defeat into victory. The legend is unfair to the Eighth Army: it is also contrary to the facts. At the beginning of July there was certainly “a bit of a flap.” On what was locally known as Ash Wednesday, papers were indeed burnt. Some civilians and women were evacuated. The fleet left Alexandria, where it would have been too much exposed to bombing. In common prudence, preparations were made for the defence of the Delta, in case the Germans should succeed in breaking th
rough the Alamein defences. There were even plans for a fighting retreat southwards up the Nile or into Palestine and, if necessary, Iraq, should the Delta go too. Plans against any eventuality are always prepared by planning staffs. That is what they are there for. There were doubtless plans for the continuance of the war from Canada, had it been necessary for the British Government to leave England.

  General Auchinleck, however, had no more intention of abandoning El Alamein than had Mr. Churchill of leaving London. On the contrary, throughout July the Eighth Army continually attacked the enemy in an endeavor to recover the initiative from him and, if possible, to destroy him where he stood. The first attack was made on July 2nd, after Rommel had unsuccessfully attacked El Alamein itself on July 1st.

  Close fighting continued for several days and it was only lack of reserves which brought the advance of 13th Corps to a standstill. On July 10th, 9th Australian Division captured the important position of Tel-el-Eisa, west of Alamein, and held it against heavy and repeated counter-attacks. On July 14th, the New Zealand Division and 5th Indian Infantry Brigade put in a night attack and gained ground on the vital Ruweisat Ridge. On the night of July 16th, the Australians captured the El-Makh-Ahad ridge to the south. Rommel reacted strongly, for we had created a salient in his position. His attacks on the Ruweisat Ridge on July 18th and 19th were, however, repulsed.

  On July 21st, while the Australians attacked in the north, the New Zealand Division, supported by armour, was launched in the centre in an attempt to cut the enemy position in half. Our armour was defeated and the attempt failed. On July 26th another major attack was staged to the north from the Tel-el-Eisa salient. This again failed, in the face of heavy German counter-attacks, partly because the infantry failed to clear gaps through the enemy minefields so that the tanks could get forward, but mainly because there was a lack of enough fresh, well-trained troops to maintain the impetus of the assault.

  On July 30th, General Auchinleck reluctantly concluded that, with the troops he had, no further offensive operations were feasible at the moment. He expected to be able to return to the attack about the middle of September. By then he would have at his disposal 44th Division, just arrived from England and now being trained in desert warfare, 8th Armoured Division, also newly arrived and being rearmed with American medium tanks, and 10th Armoured Division, retraining and re-equipping. For his reluctance he was relieved of his command by the Prime Minister. In the event, in spite of strong pressure from the Cabinet, General Alexander, in consultation with General Montgomery, put back his date more than a month.*

  [* Generals Alexander and Montgomery took over command on August 15th, 1942.]

  By that time General Montgomery had two extra British divisions and a mass of new tanks and guns such as the Eighth Army had never seen before. Since he made a complete job of it when he started, there is no doubt that the postponement was justified by the result. Nor is there any doubt that his supreme self-confidence and his gift of “the common touch” had an electric effect upon the troops. With the advantage of being a new broom, he inspired first curiosity, then interest, then admiration. The admiration was well-deserved. There is, however, no cause to magnify either. his great victory or his great personal qualities by suggesting that the Eighth Army had ceased to exist as a fighting force when he took it over. It had, in fact, captured more than 7,000 prisoners during July. It had stopped Rommel's advance to the Delta. It had paved the way for a major offensive which it was then too weak to undertake.

  There is a rather tragically ironical footnote to all this from the German side. “We were very much impressed and very much disturbed by the way you attacked us all through July,” said General Bayerlein. “You very nearly succeeded in breaking through our position several times between the 10th and the 26th. If you could have continued to attack for only a couple of days more you would have done so. July 26th was the decisive day. We then had no ammunition at all for our heavy artillery and Rommel had determined to withdraw to the frontier if the attack was resumed.”

  Personal reputations apart, it was a very good thing for us and a very bad thing for Rommel that it was not resumed. Once back on the escarpment, with his communications shortened and in a naturally strong defensive position, he would have needed a great deal of “winkling out.” In all probability he would have escaped the overwhelming defeat which overtook him, since there would have been no political or psychological objection to withdrawing farther from the frontier, as there was to any withdrawal at all from El Alamein. In any case his fate must have been postponed, for our buildup, nearly three hundred miles to the westward, would have taken much longer to prepare. Indeed, it could hardly have been completed before the British and American landings in North Africa on November 8th. In that case Rommel must have seen the red light and retired to Tunisia in his own time.*

  [* Rommel's own arguments against standing at Sollum will be found in the Appendix, Page 221. They appear conclusive.]

  Why did he not withdraw as soon as he realised that he could not break straight through to Cairo? The answer given by various critics both on the German and on our side is that he was ignorant of logistics. “His obvious weaknesses in the administrative field should deprive him of any lasting recognition as a great general,” asserts Milton Shulman inDefeat in the West. Liddell Hart remarks, more mildly, that “a definite defect was his tendency to disregard the administrative side of strategy.” These criticisms seem to stem directly from Rommel's reply to Halder's question regarding supplies: “That's your problem,” rather than from any positive evidence of his failure to appreciate the importance of logistics. The supply problem was, in fact, the problem of the German and, primarily, of the Italian High Command. Isolated in his desert headquarters, Rommel could do no more than say what he needed and try to insist that he be given it. He could not fly over and ear-mark the shipping. He could not compel the Italians to surrender the petrol which was said to be lying about in profusion in Southern Italy but which in fact they could not spare even for their own fleet. He could not order away German divisions from France, though they were serving no useful purpose there, since it was obvious that an invasion could not be attempted in 1942. He could only argue, demand and protest. That he did unceasingly, to the annoyance of the Italians and of his own Army Command.

  He was not in the happy position of General Eisenhower when he wished to concentrate a corps east of Tebessa during the operations in North Africa the next year. “Logistics staffs opposed my purpose.... They wailed that our miserable communications could not maintain more than an armoured division and one additional regiment.... I nevertheless ordered the concentration of the corps of four divisions to begin and told the logistics people they would have to find a way to supply it.” That was their problem and no one has argued that General Eisenhower was ignorant of logistics.

  There is another passage fromCrusade in Europe which is worth quoting in this context because it shows what can be done when there are quick brains and willing hands at the shore end:

  As a result of splendid action in Washington an extra shipment of 5400 trucks had been brought into the theatre. The shipment immeasurably improved our transport and supply situation and had a profound effect in all later operations. It was accomplished under circumstances that should give pause to those people who picture the War and Navy departments as a mass of entangling red tape. The shipment demanded a special convoy at a time when both merchant shipping and escort vessels were at a premium. General Somervell happened to be visiting my headquarters and I explained to him our urgent need for this shipment. He said that he could be loading it out of American ports within three days, provided the Navy Department could furnish the escorts.

  I sent a query to Admiral King, then in Casablanca, and within a matter of hours had from him a simple “Yes.”

  The trucks began arriving in Africa three weeks after I made my initial request.

  At his home base, until September 1942, Rommel had General Halder “unable
to restrain a slightly impolite smile” when he was asked for help.

  Had Rommel's requests been entirely unreasonable or had he been told that, reasonable or not, they could not be complied with because of other commitments, there would have been no excuse for his persistence. In fact, he could easily have been given, early in 1942, the little extra he needed to take Cairo. All the troops and supplies would, at that time, have reached him in safety. In the late summer of 1942, when the British had recovered control of the Central Mediterranean and convoys could not pass Malta with impunity, he was still fobbed off by Kesselring and Cavallero with promises that his forces would be made up and his supply problems solved. On August 27th, just before the Alam-el-Halfa battle, there was a meeting at which they both guaranteed Rommel 6000 tons of petrol, 1000 tons of which were to be air-lifted. “That is my condition: the whole battle depends on it,” said Rommel. “You can go on with the battle,” replied Cavallero, “it is on its way.” Such assurances should not have been given, least of all by Kesselring. Better than any one else, he knew the effect of the arrival of Spitfires in Malta.

  Rommel's own staff suspected Kesselring of “double-crossing” him, of continually reporting against him and the Afrika Korps to Goering, while assuring the Army Command that all was going well in North Africa. I have been told that this is unfair to Kesselring, who could act only through the Italians. Nevertheless, Ciano, on September 9th, 1942, speaks of Kesselring “running to Berlin to complain of Rommel.”

  Only a week earlier Cavallero was “repeating his optimistic declarations and saying that within a week the march (to the Delta) will be resumed.” Probably Ciano's own shrewd comment sums it up best: “Victory always finds a hundred fathers but defeat is an orphan.” The fact remains that Kesselring, as Commander-in-Chief South from April, 1942, was Rommel's immediate superior and could have ordered him not to advance to El Alamein, not to attack or to withdraw.