Often thought of as a small preliminary operation, few realized the massive scale of TORCH. While not quite as big as OVERLORD, it was certainly in the same league. The question of whether or not it would be successful now was one part political, and three parts military. Neutral Portugal was none too happy to think that their nation would soon be a war zone, and Franco was none too happy to think his Army was now going to have to muster along the Portuguese frontier, and more German troops were already clogging his rail lines, bound for Madrid.
His regime might not survive a successful Allied invasion of Spain, and he knew that Don Carlos, the youngest child of the Duke of Tuscany, was waiting in the wings to re-establish the Monarchy. Even though he had three living older brothers who might also claim the throne, none expressed any interest in that adventure. As for the troops he might command, their loyalty was always questionable, and there was a strong Nationalist movement that was very much opposed to Franco’s flirtations with Hitler. All told, Franco had about 24 divisions by 1940, but of these he probably could count on no more than 12, with each division having the combat potential of a brigade, if even that. He clustered these into three Corps at Madrid, Seville and Valencia, and to these he added three armored regiments with old German hand me down Panzer IIs, a few Russian T-26s left over from the Civil War, and a few Pz IVDs, no more than ten per regiment. Franco had good reason to be nervous.
Nor were the French really happy now that the moment of promised retribution from their former Allies was at hand. Some had already begun to think over the consequences of their acquiescence in joining the Axis powers. The gallows cast a long cold shadow in their minds, and if Charlemagne’s Ghost could arise that hour and see the men and machines now marching in his name, he might have wept.
Yet there was plenty of gloom and doom to go around on all sides. The Americans were still disgruntled about the operation, and harbored many inner doubts that were often expressed in their war dairies. The overall ground commander, the irascible George Patton,. Privately wrote that: “The job I am going on is about as desperate a venture as has ever been undertaken by any force in the world’s history.” Yet outwardly he put on his war face, telling Eisenhower that he would get to the beaches one way or another, and not leave until the enemy had been vanquished, or he himself was dead. He told the same thing to the President in a private meeting before the convoy departed.
Another gritty General, Ernest Harmon of the 2nd Armored Division, had been profoundly shocked to observe the results of a practice assault landing on the shores of Chesapeake Bay in Maryland. His troops and equipment ended up scattered all over the coast, taking the better part of a day to reorganize. This was an early morning landing, with good light, on a calm friendly shore, with no enemy present, and a lighthouse beacon there as a guidepost to boot. The thought that he would soon be landing at night, on hostile shores, possibly under enemy fire, was suddenly most disconcerting. Eisenhower had been treated to the same shock when he witnessed the mock landing of the 1st Infantry in Scotland—another disaster with troops clumped in groups on the shore, aimless, unable to form up and get underway towards their objectives. Now the wisdom of the British end of the plan, landing in a friendly port at Lisbon, became apparent.
The only thing that would counterbalance this raw inexperience on the part of the Americans, was an enemy that had languished in Morocco for years without so much as seeing a single enemy plane, the French. Their “divisions” were undermanned, ill equipped and led by officers with little wartime experience. Those that had seen combat had experienced the demoralization of defeat, seen their country occupied by the Germans, and then they had to wrestle with the fact that they were now “collaborators.” In 1940 and 1941, with Germany seeming invincible, they might have thought they had joined the winning side. Now, in the late summer of 1942, things were looking a little different. Rumors began to circulate that the entire American Army was coming, with thousands of ships, planes and tanks.
So no one was happy, on either side, and a most unusual battle was finally about to begin. The Second Front was opening in the West, not soon enough for the Soviets, not where the Americans had hoped to see it come, and not to anybody’s liking. It was an operation mounted because the Allies had decided that only one thing could be worse—idling through the last months of the year and failing to mount some challenge to the Axis powers that had ruled the day since the outbreak of the war.
Chapter 20
The battle for control of the Moroccan coast would first have to be fought on and over the seas that washed that forsaken shore. In this, the Allied navies would now show the tremendous naval power at their disposal. In the north, the Force H had fleet carriers Ark Royal and Victorious, escort carriers Argus and Avenger, three battleships, four heavy cruisers and scores of destroyers, with their primary role as covering force for the British landings at Lisbon. Force C in the Canaries had been thinned out, but it still had the carriers Glorious and Furious, two Knight Class heavy cruisers, backed by three more cruisers, Jamaica, Kenya and Bermuda, and a destroyer squadron.
In the south, the Americans would send the carrier Ranger, new escort carriers Sangamon, Santee, Suwanee, and Chenango, the battleships Texas, Massachusetts and New York, four heavy and two light cruisers, with over 40 pesky destroyers. Rather than being divided in to three groups as in the original plan, this substantial naval force sailed as one massive formation. The carriers had ceaselessly patrolled the skied to eliminate the U-Boat threat, and now the American troop convoy was approaching Casablanca, ready to strike all along the coast of Morocco in one mighty blow. It was this concentration of the American force that would make this attack so potent, and yet so prone to chaos and disorder as had already been seen in exercises and rehearsals.
For their part, the Axis naval forces seemed puny by comparison. Normandie was still needing repairs at Toulon, but the alarm sent by Himmler had convinced the French that it might be moved first to Algiers where the remaining work could be completed. Other than that ship, only the battleship Jean Bart remained operational at Casablanca, joined by two cruisers and five destroyers. The Germans then had their battlegroup at Gibraltar, consisting of Kaiser Wilhelm, Hindenburg, and the carriers Goeben and Prinz Heinrich. The Axis forces were therefore outnumbered six to two in battleships, eleven to two in carriers, and could simply never match the Allies in cruisers and destroyers. In spite of that, the French were at sea that morning, unaware of the storm of steel that was now blowing in from the west.
A supply operation for the Canaries was underway in the south with a group of Siebel ferries and six French transports escorted by the light cruiser Lannes and four destroyers. Further north Jean Bart had left Casablanca with what was left of the Force De Raid. Instead of being little more than a well armored moored shore battery as in the original history, that ship would now operate as a dangerous raider in what might now be the final act of the French Navy in the Atlantic.
The opening shots of the campaign were not fired by any of these ships. It was the eagle eyed Wernet Haupt in morning air flight Thor that would start the battle, spotting a British Sunderland over the Fuerteventura Channel and going in to shoot that plane down at a few minutes before ten on the 15th of September. When they heard the Sunderland’s ‘Mayday’ call, the British on Tenerife quickly scrambled a pair of Spitfires in Group Dogrose. They would be too late to save the Sunderland, but would instead find a German Kondor up, and straying uncomfortably close to Force C. The fighters vectored in, and saw the German plane turning and running for the safety of friendly islands. It was not known whether the plane had spotted the British force.
That Kondor would not see anything alarming, but a second plane out of Tangier was up at 11:00 and quickly detected something on radar to the southwest. It turned in the direction of the contact, sending a signal to Casablanca as to the suspected position, which in turn was relayed to Jean Bart. At 12:40. The French raiding group executed a 30 point turn to come about on a
heading of 285, then came another 30 points to starboard to eventually assume a heading of 315 at a little after noon. They were sailing right into the outliers of the huge American invasion group.
The three contacts that had been detected were the biggest ships in the American covering force, three battleships sailing with an escort of four destroyers from Desron 4. That bold German Kondor then overflew Desron 15, reporting three destroyers before Santee ordered a pair of Wildcats to get after it. Its radar was now picking up contacts all over the sea, and it flashed the urgent warning: Large convoy spotted – 13:00 hours, heading 100 degrees East—many warships.
The jig was up.
Desron 4 soon spotted a pair of destroyers to the south, and they turned to engage. At 2:11 local time, DD Wainright was the first ship to score a hit, straddling the French destroyer Fougueux with its deck guns. The French ship was badly hit, losing a 130mm gun, a pair of its AA guns and with minor flooding on the bow. Its speed fell off dramatically when the water reached the boiler room amidships and swamped the propulsion plant. Fougueux was soon dead in the water, and now the destroyer Boulonnaise was also taking a pasting from Wainright, which had turned over its initial prey to the able hands of DD Mayrant.
The remaining five ships in the French group has formed a wide battle line and fanned out to the northeast. The two destroyers, Milan and Simoun, rushed to engage the US DDs. Next came Jean Bart, deciding to weigh in with her secondary batteries when it was clear that Fougueux was sinking. The battleship opened fire on DD Jenkins, and that ship would take severe damage, along with Myrant, which prompted the remaining two US destroyers to wheel south. They thought they would fare better if they could put the French destroyers between their position and that battleship, and in the ensuing action, Milan would go down on the French side, joining Fougueux and Boulonnaise, and Myrant would sink, ending the little destroyer duel when the remaining US destroyers slowed to pick up survivors. Now it was time for the heavy metal.
Jean Bart saw her real foe, the tall silhouette of the leading American battleship, the Massachusetts under Captain Whiting. The entire French squadron, only four ships remaining, executed a sharp turn to the north, intending to cross the enemy’s T, and Jean Bart opened up with her 15-inch guns. Massachusetts returned fire, and the first US battleship engagement in the Atlantic was now underway. The French maneuver was correct, but it would be easily countered by the Americans when Whiting ordered his ship to come to 080 degrees northeast. Now he would be able to bring all those big 16-inch guns to bear. Undaunted, Jean Bart held her course, and the two supporting cruisers Gloire and Tourville, increased speed to engage the second tall silhouette, which was the battleship Texas. Their smaller guns would be no match for the ten 14-inch guns on the American ship, and Texas also had heavy armor, 300mm amidships, with 250mm bulkheads, and 360mm on the face armor of those turrets.
New York was last to arrive, almost due north of the Massachusetts. Captain Whiting could see that his faster ship would cut the New York off, blocking her sighting of the enemy if he continued on his present course. He therefore ordered an immediate hard turn to starboard, intending to come due south. This would give New York a crack at Jean Bart, and the Americans could double team this dangerous ship. He could already see the Texas engaging the leading French heavy cruiser, Tourville, and now he had every hope that he would prevail in this hot action.
Both sides went at it for another 30 minutes, with the range slowly closing until it was about 6 nautical miles from Jean Bart to New York. With most of her guns forward, Jean Bart shifted fire to the newcomer, as Massachusetts was now running southeast, attempting to come around the French ship’s stern at about 8 nautical miles. Captain Barthes thought he had hit the American battleship several times, and when he saw it slowing down he hoped one of those hits had penetrated to do some serious damage. In reality, Whiting had only slowed to stabilize his ship after that hard turn, and now increased to 21 knots. Most of his damage was to the twin secondary batteries, and 40mm Bofors. His engineering plant was sound, and all main guns were operational.
That would not be the case for the French ship soon. Massachusetts scored a heavy blow amidships, penetrating to the boilers and seriously compromising the steam plant. Jean Bart fell off to 12 then 8 knots, taking on water and with heavy damage, as one of the rounds had fallen short, exploding underwater and reaching an unprotected segment of the hull. To make matter worse, Tourville had met a similar fate at the hands of the battleship Texas. The cruiser was struck by two 14-inch rounds right on her superstructure near the stacks, but more serious damage from an earlier hit beneath the waterline had put her into a list. The cruiser keeled over, foundering in the moderate swells under a heavy pall of black smoke.
Now heavily outgunned, Jean Bart would not survive. Captain Barthes felt his ship taking one heavy blow after another, and at three PM local time, he finally gave the order to abandon ship. Eighteen minutes later, the brave French battleship began to sink, and seeing this, both light cruiser Gloire and the destroyer Simoun broke off, running for the safety of Casablanca. They would later make a run for Gibraltar and the safety of the Med, along with the few French destroyers that remained in the Atlantic.
This hard fought action by the US Navy would prove their mettle, and metal as well. For the loss of the destroyer Myrant, with minor damage on the three US battleships and destroyer Jenkins, they had savaged the French DDs, sinking three of the four—then the battleships had finished the job. It would be the only serious challenge at sea to the Allied fleets, and the death knell of the Force de Raid. Once the combined Franco-German fleet had been powerful enough to match and hurt the best the Royal Navy could throw at them, but the heavy losses they sustained off Fuerteventura had seriously reduced their fighting power.
The news of the defeat would fall heavily on Vice Admiral Michelier, the naval commander ashore at Casablanca. It would ripple through the wires to reach Admiral Laborde aboard the Normandie at Algiers, now the last of the once proud line of French battleships. Dark thoughts entered his mind about what was now underway, and the same shadow fell heavily on the thoughts of the German Admiral Raeder.
A battle was coming that now threatened to collapse the entire Axis position in the Atlantic and Western Med, everything Raeder had labored to build. He had seized Gibraltar, driving the Royal Navy before him. He had faced them down in one engagement after another, his ships wreaking havoc and also delivering a glittering prize that he had yet to fully measure. But now, the Allies were striking directly at the two vital naval bases that allowed him to sustain operations, Gibraltar and Casablanca.
Without those ports, he would be driven into the Central Med, and forced to operate out of Toulon. As reports came in on the movements of Force H, he realized that his remaining operational ships, those two precious carriers and his prized Kaiser Wilhelm and Hindenburg, would now be in a fight for their lives against the whole of the combined Anglo-American fleet.
Should I withdraw to Toulon, he asked himself? Should I keep these ships here in the Med, join the Normandie, and anything left in the Italian Navy to make sure we can defend the sea lanes to Rommel? That would be the only course I could set to defend my overall strategy, but that leaves our hard won position in the Canary Islands a lost cause.
He shrugged, a heaviness of heart settling on him now. A storm was coming, he could feel it impending on him like bad weather, and it would be a wall of steel ships, drawing ever nearer with each passing moment. His own battlegroup had sortied from Gibraltar, charging out through the narrow straits like knights emerging from a castle, but soon that castle would be under siege. He had little doubt as to where the invasion was heading—Casablanca. And the French division there wasn’t going to stop it, he realized. There was only one German division close enough to matter, near Marrakesh, just getting off the trains to head south to reinforce Operation Condor.
Yet they will never get there now, he knew. They will have to be sent to Casablanca,
and even then, the Americans could land north of the city, cutting those troops off, and we have nothing to really stop them from sweeping up the coast to Tangier. And the British have landed in Portugal!
Damn, he thought, we knew this was coming, but now that the hour is upon us, look how badly positioned we are to defend against this attack. Damn Hitler and his obsession with Russia. He’s left Rommel with five divisions, and Kesselring here with five more to defend all of Spain, and North Africa. How many divisions are they coming with? Is this a raid, or is it a heavy landing with the intention of knocking the French out of this war. Yes… the French. They were already waffling after the heavy losses at Fuerteventura. I asked for the Normandie, and Admiral Laborde delayed just long enough to keep that ship out of play here. Can he be relied on? And what about the remaining French ships at Toulon?
So do I stay here, and fight for my Mediterranean strategy, or do I send the Hindenburg group home… assuming they could even reach a German port safely? That would at least give me a superb naval force in the north to operate out of Nordstern. It would be enough to stop those convoys to Murmansk and strangle Soviet Russia. But if I do that, I leave another orphan in Toulon, the Bismarck. She will be laid up for many more months, and if the French collapse….
Which is the stronger play? Should I use our remaining naval assets to choke the sea lanes feeding the Soviets, or use them instead to make certain we can hold our own sea lanes open for Rommel? Which battle matters more? If I stand a watch here, we might delay the Allied movement into the Western Med, keep the French fighting for Algeria and Tunisia, and protect Rommel’s back, because I know what the British will want next—Malta. Yes, they’ll want Malta and Oran, and Algiers and Bizerte and Tunis. They’ll want to run the table and sweep us right out of the game. If they do that, Rommel is doomed. He will either lose his entire army or be forced to withdraw to Sicily. Then that is where the Allies will come next, to get after Italy. Either that or they will land in Southern France to knock the Vichy Government out of the war. My God, that’s a lot to lose to close those convoy routes in the north.
Second Front (Kirov Series Book 24) Page 17
