The Second World War
Page 56
But now a new figure sprang upon the world stage, a German warrior who will hold his place in their military annals. Erwin Rommel was born at Heidenheim, in Wurtemberg, in November 1891. He fought in the First World War in the Argonne, in Roumania, and in Italy, being twice wounded and awarded the highest classes of the Iron Cross and of the order Pour de Mérite. On the outbreak of the Second World War he was appointed commandant of the Fuehrer’s field headquarters in the Polish campaign, and was then given command of the 7th Panzer Division of the XVth Corps. This division, nicknamed “the Phantoms”, formed the spearhead of the German break-through across the Meuse. He narrowly escaped capture when the British counter-attacked at Arras on May 21, 1940. His was the spearhead which crossed the Somme and advanced on the Seine in the direction of Rouen, rolling up the French left wing and capturing numerous French and British forces around St. Valery. His division entered Cherbourg just after our final evacuation, where Rommel took the surrender of the port and 30,000 French prisoners.
These many services and distinctions led to his appointment early in 1941 to command the German troops sent to Libya. At that time Italian hopes were limited to holding Tripolitania, and Rommel took charge of the growing German contingent under Italian command. He strove immediately to enforce an offensive campaign. When early in April the Italian Commander-in-Chief tried to persuade him that the German Afrika Korps should not advance without his permission Rommel protested that “as a German general he had to issue orders in accordance with what the situation demanded”.
Throughout the African campaign Rommel proved himself a master in handling mobile formations, especially in regrouping rapidly after an operation and following up success. He was a splendid military gambler, dominating the problems of supply and scornful of opposition. At first the German High Command, having let him loose, were astonished by his successes, and were inclined to hold him back. His ardour and daring inflicted grievous disasters upon us, but he deserves the salute which I made him—and not without some reproaches from the public—in the House of Commons in January 1942, when I said of him, “We have a very daring and skilful opponent against us, and, may I say across the havoc of war, a great general.” He also deserves our respect because, although a loyal German soldier, he came to hate Hitler and all his works, and took part in the conspiracy of 1944 to rescue Germany by displacing the maniac and tyrant. For this he paid the forfeit of his life.
The Agheila defile was the kernel of the situation. If the enemy broke through to Agedabia, Benghazi and everything west of Tobruk were imperilled. They could choose between taking the good coast road to Benghazi and beyond or using the tracks leading straight to Mechili and Tobruk, which cut off the bulge of desert, two hundred miles long by a hundred miles broad. Taking this latter route in February, we had nipped and captured many thousands of Italians retiring through Benghazi. It should not have been a matter of surprise to us if Rommel also took the desert route to play the same trick on us. However, so long as we held the gateway at Agheila the enemy was denied the opportunity of bemusing us in this fashion.
All this depended upon a knowledge not only of the ground but of the conditions of desert warfare. A superiority in armour and in quality rather than numbers, and a reasonable parity in the air, would have enabled the better and more lively force to win in a rough and-tumble in the desert, even if the gateway had been lost. None of these conditions were established by the arrangements which were made. We were inferior in the air; and our armour, for reasons which will appear later, was utterly inadequate, as was also the training and equipment of the troops west of Tobruk.
Rommel’s attack upon Agheila began on March 31. Our armoured division, which had in fact only one armoured brigade and its Support Group, withdrew slowly during the next two days. In the air the enemy proved greatly superior. The Italian Air Force still counted for little, but there were about a hundred German fighters and a hundred bombers and dive-bombers. Our armoured forces under the German attack became disorganised, and there were serious losses. At a single stroke, and almost in a day, the Desert Flank upon which all our decisions depended had crumpled.
The evacuation of Benghazi was ordered, and by the night of April 6 the retreat was in full progress. Tobruk was reinforced and held, but the headquarters of the 2nd Armoured Division and two Indian motorised regiments found themselves surrounded. A number of men fought their way out, bringing in a hundred German prisoners, but the great majority were forced to surrender. The enemy pushed on very quickly towards Bardia and Sollum, with heavy armoured cars and motorised infantry. Other troops attacked the Tobruk defences. The garrison beat off two assaults, destroying a number of enemy tanks, and for a time the position there and on the Egyptian frontier was stabilised.
The beating in of our Desert Flank while we were full-spread in the Greek adventure was a disaster of the first magnitude. I was for some time completely mystified about its cause, and as soon as there was a momentary lull I felt bound to ask General Wavell for some explanation of what had happened. Characteristically he took the responsibility upon himself.* The disaster had stripped him almost entirely of his armour.
On Sunday, April 20, I was spending the week-end at Ditchley and working in bed, when I received two telegrams from General Wavell to the C.I.G.S. which disclosed his plight in all its gravity. He described his tank position in detail. The picture looked dark. “It will be seen,” he said, “that there are only two regiments of cruiser tanks in sight for Egypt by the end of May, and no reserves to replace casualties, whereas there are now in Egypt, trained, an excellent personnel for six tank regiments. I consider the provision of cruiser tanks vital, in addition to Infantry tanks, which lack speed and radius of action for desert operations. C.I.G.S., please give your personal assistance.”
On reading these alarming messages I resolved not to be governed any longer by the Admiralty reluctance, but to send a convoy through the Mediterranean direct to Alexandria carrying all the tanks which General Wavell needed. We had a convoy containing large armoured reinforcements starting immediately round the Cape. I decided that the fast tank-carrying ships in this convoy should turn off at Gibraltar and take the short cut, thus saving nearly forty days. General Ismay, who was staying near by, came over at noon to see me. I prepared a personal minute to him for the Chiefs of Staff. I asked him to go to London with it at once and make it clear that I attached supreme importance to this step being taken.
The Chiefs of Staff were assembled by the time Ismay reached London, and they discussed my minute until late into the night. Their first reactions to the proposals were unfavourable. The chances of getting the motor transport ships through the Central Mediterranean unscathed were not rated very high, since on the day before entering the Narrows and on the morning after passing Malta they would be subjected to dive-bombing attack out of range of our own shore-based fighters. The view was also expressed that we were dangerously weak in tanks at home, and that if we now suffered heavy losses in tanks abroad there would be demands for their replacement, and consequently a further diversion of tanks from the Home Forces.
However, when the Defence Committee met the next day Admiral Pound, to my great satisfaction, stood by me and agreed to pass the convoy through the Mediterranean. The Chief of the Air Staff, Air-Marshal Portal, said he would try to arrange for a Beaufighter squadron to give additional protection from Malta. I then asked the Committee to consider sending a hundred additional cruiser tanks with the convoy. General Dill opposed the dispatch of these additional tanks in view of the shortage for Home Defence. Considering what he had agreed to ten months before, when we sent half our few tanks round the Cape to the Middle East in July 1940, I could not feel that this reason was at this time valid. As the reader is aware, I did not regard invasion as a serious danger in April 1941, since proper preparations had been made against it. We now know that this view was correct. It was settled that this operation, which I called “Tiger”, should proceed.
While
all this was on the move Tobruk lay heavily upon our minds. All Hurricanes in Greece had been lost, and many of those in Tobruk had been destroyed or damaged. Air-Marshal Longmore considered that any further attempt to maintain a fighter squadron inside Tobruk would only result in heavy loss to no purpose. Thus the enemy would have complete air superiority over Tobruk until a fresh fighter force could be built up. However, the garrison had recently beaten off an attack, causing the enemy heavy casualties and taking 150 prisoners.
Soon General Wavell sent us more disquieting information about Rommel’s approaching reinforcements. The disembarkation of the 15th German Armoured Division would probably be completed by April 21. There were signs that Benghazi was being regularly used, and although at least fifteen days would be required for the gathering of supplies, it seemed probable that the Armoured Division, the 5th Light Motorised Division, and the Ariete and Trento divisions would be able to move forward after the middle of June. It seemed very unsatisfactory to us at home that Benghazi, which we had failed to make a useful base, was already playing so important a part now that it had passed into German hands.
During the next fortnight my keen attention and anxieties were riveted upon the fortunes of “Tiger”. I did not underrate the risks which the First Sea Lord had been willing to accept, and I knew that there were many misgivings in the Admiralty. The convoy, consisting of five 15-knot ships, escorted by Admiral Somerville’s Force H (Renown, Malaya, Ark Royal, and Sheffield), passed Gibraltar on May 6. With it also were the reinforcements for the Mediterranean Fleet, comprising the Queen Elizabeth and the cruisers Naiad and Fiji. Air attacks on May 8 were beaten off without damage. During that night however two ships of the convoy struck mines when approaching the Narrows. One caught fire and sank after an explosion; the other was able to continue with the convoy. On reaching the entrance to the Skerki Channel Admiral Somerville parted company and returned to Gibraltar. In the afternoon of the 9th Admiral Cunningham, having seized the opportunity to pass a convoy into Malta, met the “Tiger” convoy with the fleet fifty miles south of Malta. All his forces then shaped their course for Alexandria, which they reached without further loss or damage.
While this hung in the balance my thoughts turned to Crete, upon which we were now sure a heavy airborne attack impended. It seemed to me that if the Germans could seize and use the airfields on the island, they would have the power of reinforcing almost indefinitely, and that even a dozen Infantry tanks might play a decisive part in preventing their doing so. I therefore asked the Chiefs of Staff to consider turning one ship of “Tiger” to unload a few of these tanks in Crete on their way through. My expert colleagues, while agreeing that tanks would be of special value for the purpose I had in mind, deemed it inadvisable to endanger the rest of the ship’s valuable cargo by such a diversion. Accordingly I suggested to them on May 9 that if it were “thought too dangerous to take the Clan Lamont into Suda, she should take twelve tanks, or some other ship should take them, immediately after she has discharged her cargo at Alexandria”. Orders were sent accordingly. Wavell informed us on May 10 that he “had already arranged to send six infantry tanks and fifteen light tanks to Crete”, and that they “should arrive within next few days if all goes well”. But we had very few days left to us.
CRETE AND THE ÆGEAN
CHAPTER XX
CRETE
THE strategic importance of Crete in all our Mediterranean affairs has already been explained by argument and events. British warships based on Suda Bay or able to refuel there could give an all-important protection to Malta. If our base in Crete was well defended against air attack the whole process of superior sea-power would come into play and ward off any seaborne expedition. But only a hundred miles away lay the Italian fortress of Rhodes, with its ample airfields and well-established installations, and locally in Crete everything had proceeded in a halting manner. I had issued repeated injunctions to have Suda Bay fortified. I had even used the expression “a second Scapa”. The island had been in our possession for nearly six months, but it would only have been possible to equip the harbour with a more powerful outfit of anti-aircraft guns at the expense of other still more urgent needs; nor was the Middle East Command able to find the labour, locally or otherwise, to develop the airfields. There could be no question of sending a large garrison to Crete or of basing strong air forces upon its airfields while Greece was still in Allied hands. But all should have been in readiness to receive reinforcements should they become available and should the need arise. The responsibility for the defective study of the problem and for the feeble execution of the directions given must be shared between Cairo and Whitehall. It was only after the disasters had occurred in Cyrenaica, in Crete, and in the Desert that I realised how overloaded and undersustained General Wavell’s organisation was. Wavell tried his best; but the handling machine at his disposal was too weak to enable him to cope with the vast mass of business which four or five simultaneous campaigns imposed upon him.
At no moment in the war was our Intelligence so truly and precisely informed. In the exultant confusion of their seizure of Athens the German staffs preserved less than their usual secrecy, and our agents in Greece were active and daring. In the last week of April we obtained from trustworthy sources good information about the next German stroke. The movements and excitement of the German 11th Air Corps, and also the frantic collection of small craft in Greek harbours, could not be concealed from attentive eyes and ears. In no operation did I take more personal pains to study and weigh the evidence or to make sure that the magnitude of the impending onslaught was impressed upon the Commanders-in-Chief and imparted to the general on the actual scene.
I had suggested to the C.I.G.S. that General Freyberg should be placed in command of Crete, and he proposed this to Wavell, who had immediately agreed. Bernard Freyberg and I had been friends for many years. The Victoria Cross and the D.S.O. with two bars marked his unsurpassed service, and like his only equal, Carton de Wiart, he deserved the title with which I acclaimed them of “Salamander”. Both thrived in the fire, and were literally shot to pieces without being affected physically or in spirit. At the outset of the war no man was more fitted to command the New Zealand Division, for which he was eagerly chosen. In September 1940 I had toyed with the idea of giving him a far greater scope. Now at length this decisive personal command had come to him.
Freyberg and Wavell had no illusions. The geography of Crete made its defence problem difficult. There was but a single road running along the north coast, upon which were strung all the vulnerable points of the island. Each of these had to be self-supporting. There could be no central reserve free to move to a threatened point once this road was cut and firmly held by the enemy. Only tracks unfit for motor transport ran from the south coast to the north. As the impending danger began to dominate directing minds strong efforts were made to carry reinforcements and supplies of weapons, especially artillery, to the island, but it was then too late. During the second week in May the German Air Force in Greece and in the Ægean established a virtual daylight blockade, and took their toll of all traffic, especially on the northern side, where alone the harbours lay. Out of 27,000 tons of vital munitions sent in the first three weeks of May under 3,000 could be landed, and the rest had to turn back. Our strength in anti-aircraft weapons was fifty guns and twenty-four searchlights. There were only twenty-five part-worn or light tanks. Our defending forces were distributed principally to protect the landing grounds, and the total of Imperial troops that took part in the defence amounted to about 28,600.
But of course it was only our weakness in the air that rendered the German attack possible. The R.A.F. strength early in May was thirty-six aircraft of which only one-half were serviceable. These were distributed between Retimo, Maleme and Heraklion and were but a trifle compared with the overwhelming air forces about to be hurled upon the island. Our inferiority in the air was fully realised by all concerned, and on May 19, the day before the attack, all remaining aircra
ft were evacuated to Egypt. It was known to the War Cabinet, the Chiefs of Staff, and the Commanders-in-Chief in the Middle East that the only choice lay between fighting under this fearful disadvantage or hurrying out of the island, as might have been possible in the early days of May. But there was no difference of opinion between any of us about facing the attack; and when we see in the light and knowledge of the after-time how nearly, in spite of all our short-comings, we won, and how far-reaching were the advantages even of our failure, we must be well content with the risks we ran and the price we paid.
The battle began on the morning of May 20, and never was a more reckless, ruthless attack launched by the Germans. In many of its aspects at the time it was unique. Nothing like it had ever been seen before. It was the first large-scale airborne attack in the annals of war. The German Air Corps represented the flame of the Hitler Youth Movement and was an ardent embodiment of the Teutonic spirit of revenge for the defeat of 1918. The flower of German manhood was expressed in these valiant, highly trained, and completely devoted Nazi parachute troops. To lay down their lives on the altar of German glory and world-power was their passionate resolve. They were destined to encounter proud soldiers many of whom had come all the way from the other side of the world to fight as volunteers for the Motherland and what they deemed the cause of right and freedom.
The Germans used the whole strength they could command. This was to be Goering’s prodigious air achievement. It might have been launched upon England in 1940 if British air-power had been broken. But this expectation had not been fulfilled. It might have fallen on Malta. But this stroke was spared us. The German Air Corps had waited for more than seven months to strike their blow and prove their mettle. Now at length Goering could give them the long-awaited signal. When the battle joined we did not know what were the total resources of Germany in parachute troops. The 11th Air Corps might have been only one of half a dozen such units. It was not till many months afterwards that we were sure it was the only one. It was in fact the spear-point of the German lance. And this is the story of how it triumphed and was broken.