Malta stood as an obstacle for supply lines for the Germans and Italians in Africa throughout the campaign, the small island a potential target for the German Fallschirmjagers that had staged the successful attack on Crete in May 1941. Many believe this initial airborne attack (the largest to this date in history) was simply the Luftwaffe’s finest troops practising for the attack on Malta, the air force also keen to regain the favour of Hitler after the difficulties and ultimate failure of the Battle of Britain. But casualties were so high on Crete (mainly due to the German High Command failing to realise allied strength on the Greek Island), that Hitler became completely disillusioned with airborne parachute attacks, preferring to use the highly skilled troops as ground infantry. In reality, the elite Fallschirmjager and mountain troops accompanying them were outnumbered almost two to one by the defenders, so casualties would be high to overcome such opposition, a victory perhaps uncertain, but daringly achieved never the less with strong supporting airpower.
In contrast, the western allies were so impressed by the German success, they began planning their own operations, ultimately leading to Operation Market Garden. Stalin was also impressed, formulating the Soviet parachute divisions, albeit initially without parachutes…the men were dropped at low levels into deep snow…the casualty rate apparently acceptable in the Kremlin. Ironically therefore, the German Fallschirmjager successes inspired the enemy to formulate their own parachute forces.
The failure to secure Malta proved decisive as supply lines were longer and more vulnerable, the shortages drastically affecting the DAK. In November 1942, the Americans landed in Western North Africa (Operation Torch), thus sealing the fate of the Axis forces, the delay until the surrender in May 1943 only due to the experience of DAK troops and potentially superior tactics (Kasserine Pass is an interesting example).
400,000 Axis soldiers surrendered or were lost by May 1943 in North Africa, the haemorrhage of German manpower in the six months from the fall of Stalingrad becoming a bleak omen for the future and motivating many senior officers to consider their positions and loyalty.
The question then began to become ‘where’ the Allies would strike next…not ‘if’ they would strike…the shores of France or the ‘soft underbelly’ of Europe as Churchill preferred. This created uncertainty at Kursk, the German High Command increasingly nervous as to where the next strike would come and more and more bewildered with the delays invoked by Hitler. Many even questioned the need to attack in the east at all…surely it was better to conserve strength and adopt Manstein’s ‘backhand’ theory.
Operation Husky, 9-10 July 1943. The Allied landings in Sicily finally answered the growing fears of many. The German offensive, ‘Operation Citadel’ was just six days old…the first time a major German proactive advance was thwarted and bogged down, the Soviet combined defences of up to 300km in depth virtually impregnable. This would be the last major offensive in the east…there were simply not enough men left now. The initiative had now passed conclusively to the enemy, ominously on every front in the space of a number of days…the time for victory had run…and finally bled out.
Late Afternoon July 9th, 1943: Sky relatively clear, warm winds
Sergeant Erwin Stein stared through binoculars across towards the southern coast of Sicily, a warm nurturing breeze blowing across the forward positions, his eyes scanning the distant sky. Stood in a deep trench line on raised ground, the MG34 position was set amongst undergrowth and bushes, his hands slowly panning the glasses across as he sighed, turning to one of his men, ‘There is nothing...just silence...I am not sure they will come at all for a few days. The reports talk of storms and high winds.’ He shrugged dismissively, lowering the glasses, his extended Fallschirmjager camouflaged tunic extending below his waist and wrapped around his thighs. Gesturing to the nearest beach below their position, he grimaced, ‘It’s a shame…we could have spent some time on the sand before the wind gets up…we could have organised this afternoon better…’ He grinned, raising the binoculars again, ‘…still, we can get a bronzing tan here.’
The familiar rounded helmets of the parachutists lined the trench walls, several lay behind amongst the olive trees, enjoying the last rays of sun in the late afternoon, the breeze preventing the soldiers from becoming too hot. Bivouacked small tents sat underneath the branches, the small one or two-man material structures tied to slim trunks and tent pegs, boxes of equipment, rations and ammunition stacked in sandbagged positions nearby. Several men sat with bottles of wine and food provided by local farmers, the small unit rotating fifty percent of its soldiers every hour, the men expected to remain in the line for the next seven days at least.
The young soldier next to Stein raised a mess tin, drinking greedily from the contents and extending it towards his superior with a grin, ‘It has been quiet since we got here...we have all got tans awaiting the Amerikanisch forces to come. I think they will sit and wait for the Russkies to attack again in the east.’
Stein shook his head, considering their position as he leant to collect the mess tin, smiling his thanks, ‘No, they will land here, Sardinia or in Greece...they have the taste for war now and will keep coming. They have been bombing the mainland and northern Italy over the last few days, or so one of the supply drivers told me yesterday. British and American planes have apparently also raided northern parts of the island...they would not bomb without a reason, that was the smoke and dust we saw the other day. They are probably bombing in different places to confuse us…make us move reserves around.’
He pointed towards the south east, the large town just visible in the distance on the coastline, ‘Syracuse would give them a main road to the north...drive straight up that coast road and you could be in Messina in a few days of heavy fighting with air superiority...then the rest of the island would be cut off.’ He chewed his lower lip in contemplation, ‘That will be the prize that will decide any battle here...air superiority and keeping any landings away. The allies can shell our coastal forces with their navy...we have little to fight back with now other than aircraft. We lose that road and superiority...we lose Sicily.’
The younger paratrooper grimaced, his nineteen years having seen little fighting, his brow strained as he looked up at the experienced soldier next to him curiously, ‘Sergeant, do you think we will ever jump again?’
Erwin glanced round at the teenager, chuckling briefly before glimpsing the man’s seriousness, his eyes seeming to become gradually distant as he considered the question, his voice reflectively low in memory, ‘Fort Eban-Emael in 1940, Crete in May 1941 and support drops in Russia…’ His eyes strained as he recalled the actions, ‘…many of my friends are dead now or their bodies broken, unable to fly again…’ The sergeant sniffed morosely, ‘Sometimes it is better to stay on the ground I think…it seemed exciting at the time, but we lost so many in Crete and Russia and with the current way the war is going, I would not like to drop into enemy territory again…the belief our Wehrmacht would reach us now is not as strong.’ He glanced back down at the young paratrooper and forced a grin, ‘Stay with me on earth…you cannot run or escape in the air…you make good target practice for the enemy.’ Erwin shook his head dismissively, grinning sarcastically, ‘Still, I think we will have no choice now…darkness is falling on the outskirts of the Reich…and you never really want to jump at night!’
The sergeant had been sleeping restlessly for four hours, his befuddled mind and dreams confused by the consumption of nearly a bottle of Sicilian wine on a virtual empty stomach, his drinking accelerating as the wind had risen, the view through binoculars showing a rising surf on the coast, clear blue furious Mediterranean waves crashing against bright yellow sand. He had chuckled as he saw a local Italian unit drive onto the beach, the soldiers attempting to play a brief game of football across the sand, the rising wind and storm buffeting the soldiers, the ball blown from the group as soon as it rose into the blustery coastal air. His frustration rose as he considered some of his own unit could have comp
eted against the Italians if they had been given prior knowledge, knowing some of his soldiers were keen players.
He had accepted the wine bottle as it was offered to him, swigging greedily from the neck and continuing to observe the haphazard game on the beach, grinning fondly at the Italians as they chased the ball into the frothing surf, another unit joining the first and sides being selected. Resting amongst their defensive positions, the Germans observed the competitive match between two units of their allies below, the Italians finally settling for a confused draw in the unforgiving weather, the men sitting round a beach fire as they drank and smoked for an hour before setting back towards their own positions as the light faded. Stein had viewed the furious surf through his binoculars as the Italian lorries departed, finally dismissing the idea that any invader would be bold enough to venture forth in such a storm, he had toasted the soldiers around him before stumbling off bleary eyed towards his own tent.
The hand shook his shoulder roughly, his head shaking as he stirred slightly, then eyes snapping open warily as the drone above reached his ears. The young Fallschirmjager knelt next to him, pushing his superior’s shoulder in urgency, ‘Sergeant…there are planes overhead. I think they came from the coast, what is it…bombers?’
Stein strained his ears, listening briefly to the drone overhead. Then he shook his head once more, experienced clarity spilling through his weariness as he stretched for his helmet and MP40, ‘They are transports…that means paratroopers, probably gliders…the bombers have never flown this route before!’ His eyes widened in horror as the thumps of rear guns fired upwards blindly, drawing breath sharply in realisation as he sat bolt upright in shock, ‘Get all the men up…into the forward positions and set up the rear mortars…the enemy are coming in a storm! The Amerikanisch troops are coming now!’
Updated Historical Backdrop (some Author Opinion included): Early July 10th 1943
The first major allied parachute drops of World War 2 commenced just after midnight in the early hours of July 10th. American and British paratroopers landed by glider and from parachute all across Sicily, but with crosswinds of over 45 miles per hour, only a small percentage actually landed near their targets.
For example, only 12 of the British 147 gliders found their objectives, 69 crashing in the sea and killing over 200 soldiers. The Americans suffered similar luck, the troopers spending the next four days attempting to concentrate together.
Amphibious landings also struggled in the storms and high winds, with many craft blown off course. However, surprise was almost complete as many of the defending commanders had presumed no landing would be attempted in such unfavourable conditions.
The landings across 26 beaches covering 105 miles consisted of the British and Canadians in the east with the Americans in the west. This was the largest landing on enemy shore to date in World War 2, made possible with a sluggish and confused Italian defensive plan which did not envisage fighting on beaches, thus allowing the attackers to get ashore almost unmolested.
Several Italian coastal forces threw in strong counterattacks, with allied naval guns firing on attacking Italian tank units and dispersing them. By midday on 10th July, the Americans had captured the port of Licata and by the end of the day, Syracuse had also fallen to allied forces. Considerable reinforcements were then able to land, the allied tactic of bombing numerous areas of Italy having proved successful in dispersing the Luftwaffe, preventing a concentrated response.
Friendly fire incidents were of concern, one group of 144 Douglas C47 transports were attacked by ground fire as presumed to be German planes. Twenty three of the planes were shot down and another thirty seven damaged, with over three hundred dead…a disturbing insight into allied anti aircraft fire had the Germans known. Many of the surviving parachutists were dropped far from their targets, a number not released at all. By 12th and 13th July, the allies had strengthened their positions, the advance commencing as the Germans withdrew to the north east to shorten the defensive line.
By 18th August, Sicily had been evacuated by the Germans and Italians with the loss of over 170,000 men MIA or killed after heavy fighting. The allies had learnt that deception and distraction techniques had severely weakened the defensive response...experience that would be invaluable for the D-Day landings in less than a year’s time. There would be only one more opportunity to learn and evaluate their performance in amphibious landings before June 6th 1944 in Normandy…that would also be on the Italian peninsula.
The British and Canadians had now returned to face German forces directly with the assistance of the Americans, the ‘soft underbelly’ of Europe was now a theatre of war. Far in the east, SS Divisions were to be withdrawn from Operation Citadel in July to be rushed to the new front, the cancellation of the delayed offensive after only six days demonstrating the power of cooperation between the so called ‘allies of convenience’...but also showing the world that the German Wehrmacht was severely weakened.
The initiative had finally passed from the Axis forces...and the Russians were more than ready.
Situation Report in Russia:
Army Group Centre:
The 9th Army attacked against the Olkhovatka and nearby Teploe defences using 300 tanks and every Luftwaffe plane committed to the northern advance. Even this failed to penetrate the Russian defences, Model admitting the Soviets had now halted his advance completely. The German area of operations had shrunk daily, maximising forces in ever shortening fronts in desperation to break through…they had failed.
Army Group South:
With II SS Panzer Corps now regaining its momentum, the Wehrmacht units are advancing on either side once more. The 4th Panzer Army shifts focus, turning the advance to the north east from Oboyan to Prokhorovka, attempting to wrong foot the Red Army and achieve a breakthrough…however, the Soviets now have reserves directly ahead of the German forces. Heavy fighting as the Germans advance but still failing to achieve a breakthrough.
Situation Report 11th July:
Army Group Centre:
With the 11th July proving to now be a stalemate in the north, numerous small attacks and skirmishes occurred before silence fell at nightfall.
Army Group South:
A night attack by 6th Panzer Division of Army Detachment Kempf seizes a vital bridge across the Donetz River. Grasping the opportunity, tanks and troops flood across, the momentum believed to be gained once more. German hopes rise as the opportunity of a breakthrough seems to present itself…the attackers now have the hope of encircling the Soviet 69th Army and driving into the Russian rear.
As fighting ensues throughout the day, the commander of II SS Panzer Corps views the planned attack on Prokhorovka for 12th July, the plan simple and one that had served the German Army well over the first couple of years of war. Totenkopf was to drive southeast into the enemy rear, Liebstandarte and Das Reich would then complete the encirclement, tearing a hole in the Soviet lines and permitting an unrestricted advance...the dreamt breakthrough. Success at Prokhorovka would not only surround the main Soviet defenders in the south, but would also open another road towards Kursk and bypass the strong positions at Oboyan, hence the German plans.
In contrast, the Red Army was also planning a powerful attack utilising 5th Guards Tank Army to drive south into the German lines and stabilise the area. The scene was set…the largest tank battle in history was just hours away.
To be continued…Authors Observations
The story will recommence in ‘Bloody Red Storm Rising: Prokhorovka and Beyond’ and then followed by ‘Bloody Retreat to the Dneiper’.
Leutnant Hausser and his men will continue with the battle for Hill 243 and 247, and the inevitable greatest tank battle of World War 2…the Russians are waiting and a storm is about to be unleashed.
Thank you for reading this book, I hope you enjoyed the experience as much as I did writing it.
I found the book challenging at times, hence the delay of release for which I apologise. The main delay wa
s caused about where this work would end and the next commence, the study of when the initiative actually passed from German to Russian forces causing me to reconsider several times.
In the end, the historical solution became clear…once units had to assist neighbouring forces to advance, I believe the average soldier and commander on the ground would have perhaps doubted success, hence the choice of ending. Once divisions were diverted to fight Russian defences obstructing neighbouring units, in particular Grossdeutschland and the SS Panzer Corps, the initiative was slipping away...if not lost.
I hope this meets with your approval.
Authors Note: Operation Citadel
(Some personal opinion included)
Erich Von Manstein’s ‘back hand’ counter offensive to retake Kharkov and Belgorod is viewed by many as a masterstroke of military strategy, demonstrating to a stunned Red Army and Stalin that German forces were far from finished on the Eastern Front after the fall of Stalingrad.
The Germans faced a far superior foe, but were well aware that the Russian Army had overextended supply lines, many of their forward units simply unable to offer offensive operations due to lack of fuel or ammunition. The eagerness of the Red Army to destroy Army Group South following the fall of Stalingrad came close to success and it is doubtful there are many other commanders available that could have stabilised the front as well as Von Manstein.
With the retaking of both Kharkov and Belgorod, a large bulge extended across the Russian line, Von Manstein actually initially devising the Kursk offensive, however, the commander of Army Group South considering that the time to strike would be late March or early April 1943. Failing to gain the cooperation of the commander of Army Group Centre, Gunther Von Kluge, the older commander considering his forces were too weak to accomplish the plan, the front fell into stalemate for rasputitsa (the muddy season).
Bloody Citadel Page 32
