When a prisoner finally revealed why these were built, the Diggers decided not to disturb the Italians at work, but to go out after them and dismantle the cairns before daylight. Following this there must have been some rather tense scenes in the Italian trenches when bewildered N.C.Os tried to point out to their officers the cairns they had built the night before.
The best the Germans could do was to induce the Italians to attack the garrison’s outposts at dusk. They tried this several times in July on the sector between the sea and the Derna road, which was held by the 18th Indian Cavalry Regiment. On July 19th about 200 Italian advancing to ‘attack’ took to their heels when they ran into 24 Indians. A few days later they made another move. This time they approached the Indian posts shouting and talking excitedly, but when the Indians opened fire at a range of over half a mile, they hastily withdrew under artillery protection. Apparently they had advanced with so much noise either to cover their nervousness or else to give early warning of their approach in the hope that the Indians would open fire at long range and allow them to withdraw in safety without too much loss of face.
As a substitute for patrols the enemy established listening-posts a few hundred yards in front of his main positions. We have evidence of how ineffectively two of these were manned. On June 20th a small party from the 2/1st Pioneers sent in the following report: ‘Moving out we came on a hole in the ground in which there were two Italians. One was asleep, the other drowsy. We wakened them with the bayonet and had no further trouble.’
An Italian diary revealed the reactions of another outpost when its occupants heard suspicious noises on the night of July 12th. The author seems to have had a lively sense of humour, for his diary entries read:
Great alarm to-night at our O.P.
1. Suspicious noises are heard.
2. Patrol leaves O.P. in a rush; takes refuge in main post.
3. Capt. L. arms himself to the teeth with rifle, pistol, hand grenades, etc. and throws away the telephone.
4. Lieut. A. makes a heroic forward reconnaissance of about 300 yards.
5. Lieut. S. gets a good smack on the head with a rifle.
6. My batman takes refuge in the tent with a rifle in each hand.
7. It is established that there are no British in the area. The suspicious noises came from our own transport.
8. The O.P. is manned again. The telephone is recovered and a shot or two is then fired.
When the outposts failed to give protection, the Italians installed searchlights, with which they swept no-man’s-land. These provided a fine target for Australian machine-guns. Lieutenant L. C. Maclarn of the 2/17th dealt with them even more effectively one night by getting in behind the Italian lines and cutting a large section out of the electric cable that fed the lights.
The next enemy move was to attack the ‘silent cops’ which the garrison maintained several miles outside the perimeter in the southeast. He first tried to make them untenable by shelling; several times the men in the outposts had to withdraw but they always returned next day.
When shelling failed, Italian infantry were sent to attack the farthest outpost, known as ‘Jim’, and situated at an old well about three miles south-east of the perimeter. Late on the afternoon of August 9th this post’s garrison (Captain Ray Leakey, M.C., a British tank officer, Privates L. Bennett and C. Hayes of the 2/23rd Battalion) saw twenty-seven Italians approaching. Leakey called for artillery fire, but before the guns opened up the Italians attacked, closing in from three sides. Leakey and his two men held their fire until the enemy were less than a hundred yards away. Then they opened up with a Bren and a tommy gun. The Italians did not come on. Eighteen were killed outright and most of the remaining nine were wounded. Just before sunset the enemy brought up a larger force and Leakey and his men had to withdraw. That night the Italians came out and buried their dead, but did not stay. Next morning the 2/23rd manned the outpost again.
Apparently discouraged by this failure, the enemy made no further move against the silent cops during the next four weeks. Then on the night of September 13th–14th, while the 24th Brigade were making two raids on Italian positions near by, a force of German tanks and infantry attacked the outpost ‘Jack’ three miles east of the perimeter.
The first Australian raid on this night was made by Captain J. A. Johnstone and twenty-three men of the 2/28th Battalion. They went for an Italian position, known as ‘White Cairn’, three miles south-east of the perimeter. The enemy had not finished wiring and booby-trapping the post, and the patrol had little trouble in getting in and taking him by surprise. Out of the Italian garrison of about twenty-five, they killed ten, wounded another ten and brought back four prisoners. Two of the raiders were wounded.
This attack was simple compared with one made later that night by three officers and fifty-eight men of the 2/32nd Battalion on a very heavily defended Italian strongpost south-west of White Cairn. It was held by more than a hundred men armed with a dozen machine-guns and mortars, at least two 75 mm field pieces and two 47 mm anti-tank guns. Captain R. Joshua, who planned and commanded the attack, had led two previous patrols against this post. One night they lost their way; another night the attack misfired. But he and his men would not be beaten. They laid out a model of the enemy position inside the perimeter and rehearsed the attack by day and night, until Joshua was satisfied that they would not fail again.
Warned by the previous attempt, however, the enemy were on the alert and when the attackers were still seventy-five yards from the post they came under fire so heavy that they could not tell whether their engineers had blown the wire or not. When they reached the wire, Joshua found it still intact. He sent his men to ground while engineers blew the gaps, but by this time every weapon in the strong-post had been turned against them and fire from supporting positions came down on the Australians as they fought their way through to the guns they had come to destroy. They blew up one field gun with gun cotton and one anti-tank gun with grenades; at least twenty Italians were killed and two were brought back.
Joshua’s patrol was outnumbered two to one, but when the enemy this same night attacked the seven Western Australians of the 2/28th Battalion who were manning the outpost ‘Jack’, he sent half a dozen tanks and more than a hundred men against them. From this outpost at half past one in the morning came a telephone call: ‘Send help at once . . . for God’s sake hurry. They’re within twenty yards of us.’ Behind the speaker’s voice there was the sound of firing as the seven Diggers fought to hold the enemy back. Then there was silence. Bren carriers went out at once, but they found that the Germans were too strongly established.
The enemy held ‘Jack’, but he waited another month before striking again at any other outposts. Then he began a general forward move to clear the south-eastern and eastern sectors of no-man’s-land, and for this purpose brought up tanks to do the work his infantry would not tackle. This was his final admission of inability to deal with the Australian patrols.
THE BATTLE FOR ‘PLONK’
On the night of October 9th–10th German tanks over-ran the outpost ‘Bondi’, manned by nine Tommies of the 2nd Queen’s, two and a half miles south of the perimeter’s south-eastern corner. From ‘Bondi’ about twenty German tanks headed north-west towards another outpost, ‘Plonk’, situated at Bir El Azazi, a mile south of the perimeter and two miles east of the El Adem road. The Tobruk garrison was ready for them. For the first time Morshead had some tanks to spare and a commander (Brigadier A. C. Willison) who was prepared to use them boldly. During the previous month gallant British auxiliary lighters had run the gauntlet from Mersa Matruh to Tobruk carrying the fifty-two ‘I’ tanks of the 4th Royal Tank Regiment, commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel W. C. L. O’Carroll.
As the German tanks headed towards ‘Plonk’, fifteen of O’Carroll’s Matildas were already moving in its direction. On the previous night enemy troops had been seen working under cover of tanks on a new minefield south-east of ‘Plonk’. Consequently, on this night Morshead had ordered
O’Carroll to cover the 2/17th’s standing patrol at ‘Plonk’, and attack any German tanks that appeared in the area.
As the British tanks moved out to ‘Plonk’ about 9.30 p.m., Captain I. F. McMaster, of the 2/17th, who was guiding them, saw two figures coming towards him. They were Tommies from ‘Bondi’, bringing the first news of its capture. Until then the tanks had been going slowly so that they should not be heard. Now they raced for ‘Plonk’ at full speed. There they found that the 2/17th’s patrol was still intact, though it had been very heavily shelled. There had been no sign of the enemy, but a few minutes later the rumble of tanks, coming from the direction of ‘Bondi’, gave warning of German intentions.
The British disappeared into the night heading south-east to meet them. One tank returned almost immediately with engine trouble. This was fortunate, because four enemy tanks soon approached from the south-west. By this time the lone Matilda was sitting hull-down in the middle of the four low mounds at ‘Plonk’. Its commander held his fire and the Germans did not see it until they were a hundred yards away. As they slowly closed in on ‘Plonk’, McMaster decided it was time to withdraw his small infantry patrol, which had no adequate anti-tank weapons. It was barely clear when the German tanks opened fire. By this time they had approached within fifty yards, but the ‘I’ tank held its ground and fired back. Sparks flew from the tanks as shells ricocheted from their heavily armoured sides. One enemy tank was hit point blank by an armour-piercing shell, but managed to pull out of the fight. The others followed it, little knowing that with one of their last shells they had jammed the turret of the ‘I’ tank and made it defenceless.
Meantime, east of ‘Plonk’ the other fourteen ‘I’ tanks were roaring across the desert in search of the main German force. Crew commanders, heads high above their turrets, strained their eyes to distinguish in the blackness the shapes that might be enemy tanks. The rival forces were only 150 yards apart when our tanks first saw theirs and immediately opened fire. The commander of one British tank later described the running dog-fight that followed:
We opened fire at a range of about 100 yards and the German tanks scattered. We spread out and chased them, each of us picking one to tackle. All we could see was a series of black blobs, blurred by smoke and dust. By contrast, the sudden flashes of guns and the flare of tracer shells were almost blinding. Their tanks had more speed and they used it – 200 yards away they were out of sight. Judging from the sparks that flew we scored some hits, but most of their fire was wild and they didn’t stay to fight it out.
The Germans made no further move against ‘Plonk’ that night and Morshead decided to garrison it with a platoon of infantry and two anti-tank guns and to protect it with wire and mines. The plan was opposed by Murray and by the C.O. of the 2/17th, Lieutenant-Colonel Crawford, who both felt that ‘Plonk’ could not be defended by so small a garrison and that Tobruk could not afford to place in such an exposed position a force strong enough to hold out against enemy tanks. Morshead, however, was always reluctant to see the enemy occupy any ground the garrison had once held and knew the importance of at least delaying the closing-in process that Rommel had evidently begun.
An hour before dark it became clear that the enemy, too, had designs on ‘Plonk’. The 2/17th’s advance party found no enemy near there but the battalion’s front was heavily shelled. At dark Captain Frank Windeyer tried to take out the main party with trucks carrying anti-tank guns, mines and wire, but they ran into very heavy artillery fire. One of the anti-tank trucks was knocked out and the other was disabled; Windeyer was mortally wounded and several others were hit. The party withdrew, followed all the way by a barrage of increasing fury.
Under cover of this the enemy moved in to occupy ‘Plonk’, closely observed by Lieutenant G. T. Reid, one of the ablest and most experienced patrol leaders in Tobruk, who had taken two men out through the shelling to within 300 yards of ‘Plonk’. From there he counted eleven tanks, five trucks and about forty men near the mounds.
These provided a perfect artillery target, but the Tobruk guns had so few alternative positions that they preferred not to reveal their location by firing at night. Consequently, they did not shell ‘Plonk’ until dawn, but then their fire was so accurate that the enemy garrison was thrown into confusion. Vehicles, hastily loaded with troops, tools and stores, were driven away at top speed. After an hour’s bombardment the outpost was again deserted.
The final round of the battle for ‘Plonk’ was fought on the night of October 11th–12th. By then Morshead had abandoned the idea of occupying it and had ordered the establishment of a new outpost nearer the perimeter. To cover this and harass the Germans, Reid and forty men prepared to raid ‘Plonk’ under cover of artillery and ‘I’ tanks. In their first attempt to get there, the tanks were late in starting and lost the advantage of the artillery concentration. At midnight eight Matildas tried again, but the enemy, warned of their approach, shelled them heavily as they moved out.
When they got near ‘Plonk’, they found eight or nine enemy tanks already there, covering infantry who were digging in. This time the Germans held their ground and the eight Matildas cruised past them in line ahead formation, firing broadsides at a range of about a hundred yards. As soon as they were abreast of the enemy they turned sharply and closed in.
The German tanks fought back stubbornly, supported by artillery which shelled German and British tanks indiscriminately. In spite of this, as the Matildas moved in with their machine-guns and 2-pounders blazing, the enemy infantry retreated, closely followed by their tanks. When the British reached ‘Plonk’, half a dozen fresh German tanks advanced from the west, but their attack was eventually beaten off. It was an hour and a half before the area was finally cleared, but the enemy shelling continued and made it impossible for Reid’s party to go in. The tanks having cleared ‘Plonk’, however, the infantry were not needed and before dawn the British tanks moved back to cover the new outpost, ‘Cooma’, nearer the perimeter. Soon after first light the enemy was again observed digging in at ‘Plonk’ under cover of tanks. British guns shelled it, but by this time the Axis infantry was well enough dug-in to stay there regardless of the bombardment. ‘Plonk’ passed into the hands of the enemy.
The threat from the south during the battle for ‘Plonk’ did not keep the garrison on the defensive elsewhere. In the Derna road sector, the 2/43rd Battalion, which was about to leave Tobruk, gave the Italians a parting shock. On two consecutive nights several small patrols struck deep into enemy territory, ambushed Italian working parties from ranges of 10 and 20 yards, and inflicted at least 75 casualties. One patrol, led by Captain W. E. L. Catchlove, killed 15 out of a party of 16 Italians and captured the survivor. Having roused the enemy’s fears and suspicions by these attacks, the 2/43rd lay low the following night, but on the next they had their final laugh.
They had already discovered what Very lights the enemy sent up as a signal for general defensive fire. Consequently, on this night the 2/43rd gave the enemy front a short, sharp strafe and when the Italians were thoroughly roused, a lone Digger, some distance out in no-man’s-land, put up the enemy’s own defensive fire signal. Along the whole sector every Italian weapon opened up. For the next hour and a half shells, mortars and machine-gun bullets were flying everywhere in no-man’s-land. The Italians wasted more than 700 shells, and the men of the 2/43rd – remembering the unfortunate mistake caused by the conflicting signals when they made their first attack in May – sat back in their concrete posts and grinned.
During the next five weeks the outposts that the Australians had maintained in the south and south-east all passed into the hands of the enemy.
This was probably inevitable, but the process was undoubtedly hastened by the withdrawal of the 9th Division. The units of the 70th British Division, which relieved it, were below strength, and could not maintain such an intensive system of patrols. Moreover they did not know the country and it was naturally some weeks before they were familiar with it. During
this change-over period, the enemy, feeling less pressure from the garrison’s patrols, and knowing that the troops were new, moved his positions forward under cover of tanks, until virtually all the perimeter was within range of hostile machine-guns. The result was that by mid-November the Tobruk garrison was in a weaker position than it had been at any time since May. It had less freedom and Rommel was much better able to launch a surprise assault. It was clear that as soon as he had consolidated his control of no-man’s-land and gathered sufficient strength, he would attack Tobruk in force. For the garrison the vital question was – would he be ready to strike before the Eighth Army could launch its long-awaited offensive from the frontier? But the Australians could feel satisfied that by keeping command of no-man’s-land during so many months they had delayed Rommel’s preparations and given the Eighth Army time to recover from its severe losses in the June engagement and to build up fresh strength. They had also given it most value information about enemy dispositions and movements. The Tobruk garrison could peek into Rommel’s back-yard. Traffic on the by-pass road was closely watched from the perimeter and day to day fluctuations in traffic provided a useful index of future activity on the frontier. Patrols quickly detected any big movement of troops to or from Tobruk. Reports compiled by Morshead’s extremely able G.III (Intelligence), Captain L. K. Shave, told Eighth Army H.Q. much that it could not have learnt from any other source. Although the Diggers did not realize it, the scraps of information they picked up outside Tobruk were of great value to the British troops who were holding the frontier.
On the last night that the 2/17th Battalion were in the line I was at a forward post when their final Tobruk patrol went out. They took with them a rough wooden cross with a Digger’s name and number painted on it. Tied to it was a note in stumbling French, asking the Italians to place the cross over the grave of an Australian who had been killed in the battle for ‘Plonk’. The patrol left the cross in the enemy minefield where it was sure to be seen. In this gesture I felt they were paying their last tribute to all their mates who had fallen in the Battle for No-man’s-land.
Tobruk 1941 Page 31
