Hans Von Luck - Panzer Commander

by Unknown

  For us that meant water rationing; half a liter of water per man per day-4or ten days on end. Half a liter to drink, without thinking of washing and shaving. This measure was necessary, since without water-in the depths of the desert-we would have been hopeless. In spite of great privation, we endured the ten days.

  From 6 November, my reconnaissance group-at this time deep in the desertperated at first from the Giarabub oasis, which lay about 250 kilometers south of the coast.

  The stony desert here was not as flat as it was further north, where it permitted large-scale, military operations. The furthet south we moved, the more mountainous the terrain became.

  Ir places, ridges with cliffs, scoured by the wind, ran from north tc south and thus formed an obstacle that could hardly be overcome Then, further south, the sandy desert began, with its high, impassable dunes. Long-drawn wadis offered cover and thus protection against surprise attacks.

  By day, it was very hot and at night, so cold that everyone was glad to have his coat and scarf on hand. Again and again, we were hit by sandstorms or deluges of rain.

  Contact with the enemy was resumed. We came upon our old “friends,” the Royal Dragoons and the I lth Hussars, with whom we had already been involved during our advance on Alamein.

  Although we knew we were covering and shielding the withdrawal of the Africa Army to the west, we had no feeling of being in Right. We operated to all quarters of the compass with the object of maintaining contact with the enemy and getting a clear idea of his intentions. Prisoners had to be taken, in order to learn from them something of the enemy's plans.

  Our armored patrols developed their “net” tactic: in flat terrain, with a range of sight of more than 15 kilometers, our very fast eigbt-wheelers formed a large circle, into whibh they lured the British Humbers and scout cars, in order to close the net from two sides. This tactic usually worked, though we sometimes lost isolated scout cars through the more powerful cannons of the Humber-s.

  The first prisoners were brought in to me. Some of them greeted file With: “Glad to meet you again, Recces.” The British

  kept their sense of humor in all eventualities. After the usual small talk, we knew that the main job of the two British battalions was to prevent us from trying to interrupt Montgomery's supply routes by an attack from the depths of the desert.

  Much more interesting, however, was something a young officer said, which he regretted as soon as be had opened his mouth.

  The Long Range Desert Group, under Major Stirling, had the task of finding a route for a whole British tank division, through the mountainous country further to the south. From then on, the “hunt for Stirling,” as we called it, began. Sometimes, we found vehicle tracks which could only have come from his scout cars. But time and again, this clever unit managed to evade our clutches.

  A couple of weeks later, a patrol succeeded in catching one of the Long Range Desert Group's command cars, which had lost its way. In the vehicle, we captured a map on which was marked the exact route across a mountain range, by which a whole British tank division might have attempted a wide outflanking of our prepared positions on the coast. Thanks to this map, Rommel was able to save parts of the Afrika Korps from the threat of encirclement. I In time, we got to know the names of the commanders of the two British reconnaissance battalions. I, too, was often addressed by prisoners. "You are Major von Luck.

  We'd have been glad to catch'you." While the Africa Army was putting every effort into fighting an orderly withdrawal action on the coast and then straight across Cyrenaica, we, with our four battalions, were able to operate freely for three weeks unmolested by tank and air attacks.

  We quickly developed a certain routine. Toward five o'clock in the afternoon the reconnaissance patrols broke off their operations in order to reach base in good time; in the treeless desert with no landmarks it was impossible to find one's way back to base in the dark. To avoid betraying our position, light signals were used only in an emergency. The two British battalions carried on in the same way, so that from 1700 hours, all reconnaissance and combat activity was suspended, to be resumed again the following morning as soon as it was light.

  “We could really agree to a cease-fire with the British from 1700 hours until the next morning,” I said, more as a joke, to those around me.

  “Why not?” I was supported by Lieutenant Wenzel Luedecke, the reserve officer who had worked at the UFA film studios as an The Retreat from El Alamein 125 assistant director. “After all,” he went on, “the British have a sense of humor. We ought to suggest it to them”, Chance came to our aid. One evening, when all our patrols were back, I received a visit from my intelligence officer.

  “The Royal Dragoons are on the radio,” he said, “and they would like to speak to you.”

  “Hallo, Royal Drag s here. I know it's unusual to make radio oon contact with you, but Lieutenant Smith and his scouting party have been missing since this evening. Is he with you, and if so how are things with him and his men?” One of our patrols had indeed managed to take some prisoners.

  It turned out that they were Lieutenant Smith and his party.

  “Yes, he is with us. All of them are unhurt and send greetings to their family and friends.” Then came the brainstorm. “Can we call you, too, or the II th Hussars, if we have anyone missing?”

  “Sure, Your calls are always welcome,” It was only a matter of days before we had arrived at a gentiemen's agreement": At 1700 hours, precisely, all hostilities would be suspended.

  We called it “tea time.” At 1705 hours, we would make open contact with the British, to exchange “news” about prisoners, etc.

  In fact, from a distance of about 15 kilometers, we could often see the British get out their Primus stoves and make their tea, The agreement was kept by both sides, until we were forced by events to give up the connection in Tunisia. The prisoners we took often had to stay with us for several days, until the next supply convoy arrived and was able to take them away with it.

  We gave them whatever we could spare from our rations.

  One evening, when our radio stations had tuned in once again to the Belgrade transmitter and we heard the song

  “Lilli Marlene,” some of the prisoners joined in.

  “Over there we listen to”Lilli Marlenei every evening,“ they said. ”There's already an English version. Monty has strictly forbidden it, but we like the song and its sentimental words." The French and the Americans also listened to it, as we found out later. Somehow, it made things easier.

  Our “five o'clock tea agreement” had some remarkable conse 126 PANZER COMMANDER quences. One evening, a patrol came back with two men and a jeep captured in the desert. A tall, fair-haired, young lieutenant and his driver were brought before me. The lieutenant was the snobbish, arrogant type of Englishman. Very correctly, he gave me his service number only, no other details.

  I tried to get into conversation with him and told him of my visits to London, of my friends, including a captain in the grenadier guards. He gradually thawed and turned out to be the nephew of one of the owners of Player's cigarettes. My officers made a whispered suggestion and I had to laugh.

  “Lieutenant, what would you say to our swapping you and your driver for cigarettes? We're a bit short at the moment.”

  “Good idea,” he said.

  “How many cigarettes do you think you are worth, what should I suggest to your commander?” His answer came without hesitation: “A million cigarettes, that's 100,000 packets.” My radio officer made contact with the Royal Dragoons, and I passed on our offer.

  I “Please wait, we'll come back to you at once,” was the reply.

  Then, after a few minutes, “Sorry, we're a bit short ourselves, but we could offer 600,000 cigarettes. Come in, please.” To my great astonishment, I received a flat refusal from the young lieutenant.

  “Not one cigarette less than a million, that's final!” was his answer'. So the young man had to pay for the high value he set on himself w
ith captivity.

  A week later, shortly before dark, our doctor disappeared behind a rise for the indispensable “spade trip.”

  “Doctor ” I called out to him, “don't go too far, it'll soon be dark.” He idn't seem to hear me and went on.

  When he hadn't come back after half an hour, we began to be worried. The doctor was not only very popular; with his tropical experience, he was vital to us. We sent out some men and fired the prearranged light signals. The doctor remained missing. Had he lost his way, or had he been caught by the British?

  “Yes, we've got your doctor. He ran straight into our patrol on its way back. This time, we have a suggestion. The Japanese have cut our communications with the Far East. We can't get quinine anymore and are suffering badly from malaria. Can we exchange your doctor for some of your synthetic Atebrin? Come in, please.” The Retreat from El Alamein 127 “Please wait,” I replied.

  A moral issue now presented itself. Which was more important, to weaken the fighting strength of the British through malaria, or to get our doctor back? I quickly made up my mind.

  “Okay, we'll do business. How many packets do you want for the doctor?” We agreed at once on a quantity that we could spare and arranged the exchange for the following morning. From either side, a jeep with a white flag drove between the lines for the ceremonial trade.

  “An expensive spade trip, Doctor. Good to have you back.” Rommel, to whom I related this on one of his visits, was understanding. “That's what I thought about the British. I'm glad you can practice this fair play here in the desert; on the coast, it's just a matter of survival.” Only once was our “agreement” unintentionally broken. One evening, a patrol returned to base from its operation with a British supply truck. The leader of the patrol was a young lieutenant who had joined us from Germany only a short time before.

  “Major,” he reported proudly, “the truck is full of corned beef and other tins, beer, and cigarettes.”

  “When and where did you capture it?” was my first question.

  It turned out that he had captured the truck toward 1730 hours, hence after the agreed time.

  “Are you mad, you know the arrangement? This will not be the end of the matter.” The lieutenant was astonished. "But these are things that are really useful to us, and which will be denied to the British.

  War is war.“ I had an idea of what would happen and at once sent off a radio message to Rommel. ”Have impression that British patrols intend to outflank us in the south. Suggest moving south." Rommel agreed and sent word that another small unit would take over my position the following day. I briefed the leader of the unit on the situation in my area and warned him expressly against British patrols, which would appear suddenly and try to take prisoners among us. In the afternoon, I moved south.

  What I had suspected promptly occurred. In the evening, toward 1730 hours, a British detachment raided the unit, captured two trucks, and disappeared into the darkness. A gentleman's agreement was, after all, a gentleman's agreement.

  The end of our “agreement” came later, somewhere in the depths of the Tunisian desert. For some days, we had lost contact with the two British battalions. Then, an orderly came to my command car one evening.

  “There's a Bedouin here who wants to talk to you, Major.” With a deep bow, the Bedouin came in. “Salaam, I have a letter for you. I will wait for an answer.” A Bedouin with a letter, here, deep in the desert, where by rights no one could find us? The Bedouins always seemed to know where we were. I opened the letter.

  From C.O., Royal Dragoons.

  Dear Major von Luck, We have had other tasks and so were unable to keep in touch with you. The war in Africa has been decided, I'm glad to Say, not in your favor.

  I should like, therefore, to thank you and all your people, in the name of my officers and men, for the fair play with which we have fought against each other on both sides, I and my battalion hope that all of you will come out of the war safe and sound and that we may find the opportunity to meet again sometime, in more favorable circumstances.

  With the greatest respecti sat down at the table and wrote a similar note to the Royal Dragoons.

  “Give this letter to the man from whom you received the one to me,” I told the Bedouin. “Say to him, ”Many thanks,“ but don't betray where you found us.” Heavy downpours of rain set in, which gave us time to consolidate the Mersa el Brep position. The deluges of rain were a hindrance, not only to us, but also to the two British battalions. We couldn't use the wadis, which gave us cover, for torrents of water, three feet deep, were carrying all before them. We were now stationed south of Agedabia, not far from the border between Cyrenaica and Tripolitania.

  On 20 November, I was ordered to go in the Fieseler to Rommel, who, for a short time, had his HQ near an airfield.

  Rommel looked exhausted. His uniform was worn and dusty.

  The Retreat from El Alamein 129 The hard withdrawal actions, his deep disappointment, and his illness, not yet fully cured, had left their mark on him. He greeted me briefly. Instead of giving me fresh orders, for which I had flown to see him, Rommel took my arm, “Come, we'll go for a little walk.” General Gause nodded to me, as if pleased to be able to divert Rommel somewhat. We strolled along the edge of the airfield.

  “I no longer know how to cope with the supply problem,” Rommel began. “A few days ago, an Italian destroyer with 500 tons of fuel turned west and unloaded at Tripoli instead of here in Benghazi. Kesseiring has now promised me fuel by airlift. The first fifty JU 52s are on their way here.” In the distance, we could hear the drone of engines; also, however, the rattle of antiaircraft cannon. Out of the fifty machines, only five landed shortly afterward; the rest had been shot down over the sea. How could the British have known about them? We know, today, that it was Jean Howard and her friends in Bletchely Park at work. Rommel was extremely frustrated and stamped his feet.

  “Luck, that's the end! We can't even hold Tripolitania, but must fall back on Tunisia. There, in addition, we shall come upon the Americans and, possibly, also the French, who are supposed to be marching with a combat group from Chad through the desert on southern Tunisia. What I was afraid of weeks ago will then occur: our proud Africa Army, and the new divisions that have landed in northern Tunisia, will be lost. First, the loss of Stalingrad, with 200,000 battle-tried men; now we're losing Africa too, with elite divisions.” I was much disturbed. "Field Marshal, we still have a chance.

  The men are behind you, their morale is first-class. If we can get sufficient supplies, we're bound to pull it off.“ Rommel smiled, ”I know, and I'm proud of the men. But the supplies will not be forthcoming. Hitler's HQ has already written off this theater of war. All he requires now is that 'the German soldier stands or dies."

  “What we need is to create a German”Dunkirk'; that means flying out as many officers, men, and specialists as possible to Sicily, while leaving the materiel behind. We need the men for the decisive struggle in Europe."

  “How will you ever put that to Hitler?” I asked.

  "After consulting Kesselring and the Italians, I shall fly to liitler at Rastenburg and make my opinion clear to him, beyond all doubt. My word still counts for something; I am still among the people and by my men. I don't believe anymore that we shall get what we need in further divisions, aircraft, and supplies, in order to turn the wheel yet again.,, His face was lined, his shoulders drooping. He was the picture of dejection.

  “Luck, the war is lost!” he said.

  I was appalled. Was everything to have been in vain?

  We're still deep in Russia,“ I protested. ”Half Europe is occupied by us. Bitter though the loss of North Africa will be, we can carry on the fight in Europe and bring about a change of fortune."

  "Luck, we've got to seek an armistice, precisely because we still have a lot of pawns in hand. If possible, an armistice with the Western Allies. We still have something to offer.

  This assumes, of course, that Hitter must be forced to abdica
te; that we must give up the persecution of the Jews at once and make concessions to the Church. That may sound Utopian, but it is the only way of avoiding further bloodshed and still more destruction in our cities." What had brought Rommel to this complete reversal in his attitude to Hitler and the war? Without doubt, his great disappointment at being left on his own, as well as the disregard for his ideas and the importance of this theater of war. We walked back slowly to his HQ. Once again, Rommel took MY arm.

  Luck, one day you will think of my words. The threat to Europe and to our civilized world will come from the east. If the peoples of Europe fall to join forces to meet that threat, western Europe will have lost. At the moment, I see only one 'warrior' prepared to champion a united Europe-. Churchillt“ I was deeply impr by Rommel's words, As General Gause told me at the beginning of mber, Rom mel had a decisive conference with Marshals Kesselring and Cavallero on 24 November. On 28 November, he flew to Rastenburg in East Prwsia to see Hitler. The crucial meeting had the opposite effect of that for which Rommel had hoped: Hitler regarded Rommel as sick and run-down and his report on the situation as greatly exaggerated. He angrily refused to even consider evacuation of the Africa Army. round and promised Goering maneuvered himself into the foreg Hitler that he would give the war in North Africa the decisive turn with his Luftwaffe. Goering had been angry with Rommel ever since the latter had remarked that the Goering divisions and the The Retreat from El Alamein 131 Waffen-SS were merely ”praetorian guards" and should be incorporated in the army.

  Rommel went back to “his” men, although it was suggested that he should take treatment for his tropical disease. All be brought with him was empty promises of support.

  On 13 November, after all its stores and installations had been destroyed, Tobruk was taken by the British without a struggle.

  Much blood had been shed there, on both sides, during the previous eighteen months.

  The retreat, through southern Cyrenaica, was a masterly achievement by Rommel. Except for a great deal of materiel, we suffered hardly any losses.