Stormtide Rising (Kirov Series Book 29)

by Schettler, John

  As 24th Brigade moved east, it would reach the Sports Club in twenty minutes, where an enterprising Colonel Pack would throw the men right at the advancing Germans. He could not yet see them, but he could hear the sharp bursts of their machineguns, and there was no question as to where they were. He practically horse whipped the men of 2/6 Rajputana Rifles, urging them on.

  “Come on, you laggards! It’s time we stopped these bastards. Get after them!”

  It looked as though this sudden reinforcement at the point of attack might turn the balance, but as the sun began to paint the horizon red with a bloody dawn, the sound of artillery fire resounded from the west.

  Konrad was starting his attack on the rail yard.

  Chapter 21

  (Map 3)

  Brigadier Alan R. Barker had the 27th Indian Brigade in a tight line from the Tigris in the north, to the banks of a tributary that flowed south of the town of Shalchiya, the small Khir River. His problem that morning lay in Guderian’s order to Beckermann—tell Konrad to focus all his energy on the north end of the line, and go for the main bridge and Royal Ferry site. That was exactly what Konrad did.

  Barker’s HQ post was too close to the front, and the wolves were suddenly through his line and at his doorstep. His HQ section, and a battery of artillery, had to make a breakneck retreat towards the Locomotive Bay, which was one of the most sturdy buildings on that end of the rail yard. Yet his entire line was under pressure, the Germans continuing with the same relentless fervor they had displayed the previous day.

  The Bloody Brandenburgers, he thought grimly. Our Gurkhas might match them, but they’re all at the southern end of the line. Fritz must have already smashed right through the Baluch Rifles, and that turns the flank of my whole position. So I’ve got to pivot. I’ve got to fold back my lines like a swinging gate. But if I do that, the Germans can run for the main bridge!

  He reached for a telephone, ringing up Jumbo Wilson at the Embassy to apprise him of the situation. “Look here,” he began haltingly. “Fritz is getting around my right, and if I fold my line back that way. I’ll expose the river bridge to attack. We need support, and bloody well now!”

  Wilson looked over his situation map, seeing that the lead battalions of the 5th Indian Division’s 29th Brigade had come up through the heart of the city, bound for the barracks where they thought they were to be fed and rested. But there would be no rest for the weary that morning, and no breakfast either.

  “Alright,” said Jumbo. “I’ve got Reid’s 29th Brigade close at hand. I’ll send them over the main bridge to cover that sector. See if you can extend your line and make contact with them.”

  Brigadier Alan Barker was no slouch. He had been with the Indian Army since the first war, fought in the Anglo-Afghan war, and slowly rose in the ranks until they gave him the 27th Brigade. He was known throughout India as “Tochi Barker,” and much respected by the men he commanded. He would later go on to distinguish himself in the fighting in Italy, but for now he had a real whirlwind on his hands.

  He had only just reached the Locomotive Bay when he was aghast to see what looked like a full battalion of German troops forming up to attack the place. He was reluctant to give it up, but he knew it could not be held with the small platoon sized HQ staff he had at hand, and by extension, he knew that his brigade had been shattered by this ferocious and very heavy attack being put in by the Lehr Regiment.

  Barker had no choice but to withdraw deeper into the rail yard, crossing the thick lines of the heavy steel railed tracks, past the fueling depot and workshops. Along the way, he came upon the remnants of a company from 4/8 Punjab Rifles, ordering them to hold the fuel bunker as long as possible. The help he had asked for had finally come, filing over the main bridge, called Jsar al Qitar at this time, and renamed the Alsarafiyah Bridge in 2021. Now, at a crucial moment, he could see the lines of the 29th Brigade moving forward from the bridgehead they had established on the west bank, and taking up blocking positions astride the main road.

  Two more battalions of the Punjab Rifles advanced, catching a company of the Lehr Regiment that had broken through, well ahead of the rest of its regiment. The Royal Engineers that had fought so stubbornly for the Grain Factory found themselves cut off as they withdrew, but now they attacked to try and reach friendly lines, and soldiers of 2/9th Gurkhas joined in from the other side, hoping to open a hole and save their comrades.

  Barker went out, watching the artillery firing from their new post near the central supply depot. He surveyed the left flank, mostly manned by Lt. Colonel Selby’s 28th Indian Brigade, which had a high proportion of solid Gurkha battalions in its ranks. That line was holding, from the town of Shalchiya, down to the Khir River that flowed on to the outskirts of the Airport Settlement and formed the southwest boundary of Al Muthana Field. He heard a battery of 25 Pounders firing from the edge of the airfield, and realized the Germans must be probing at that tributary for weak points. There would be no reserve for that sector if anything got through.

  In fact, even with the timely arrival of Briggs’ 5th Indian Division from Kirkuk, the British were still stretched to their limit to hold the line and stop up gaps and breakthroughs. When General Briggs came up from the back of his division column, he learned that Wilson had already taken the two leading brigades and put them into action. Reid’s 21st Brigade had crossed to support Barker and cover the main bridge and Royal Ferry, and Langran’s 9th Brigade had been sent way off on the right flank to fill a gap between Ford’s 19th Brigade and the lines of Kingforce on the outer Bund and Army Canal line.

  That left the General with only Finlay’s 10th Brigade, and one of his battalions had already been sent in to help halt the advance of KG Kufner, which had come through the Arab Hikmat and was threatening to flank the inner bund along another line of marshy ground. So Briggs had but two of Finlay’s battalions in hand, the solid 2nd British Highland Light, and 4/10 Baluch Rifles. Where would the next crisis point come?

  Then word came from Kingstone that he had just greeted the 7th Armored Brigade, the cavalry riding to the rescue in the heat of this hard fought day. It had finished up in the south, boarded trains in Basra, and then moved by rail up to a point south of the city before offloading the tanks and vehicles for ground movement. The brigade had 32 M5 “Honeys,” 33 of the newer Shermans, and 24 older M3 Grants. That evening they would be approaching the city center after stopping at a fuel depot near the Al Jisir Bridge to top off. That gave Wilson and Briggs a little heart, though Jumbo wondered if the Germans would continue the fighting after dark.

  They’re relentless, he thought. That Brandenburg division has the strength of two of my Indian divisions combined, and then some. But this attack from the north has me worried. 9th Armored Brigade has been expended. I’ll need to pull them off the line to fuel up and replenish ammo. Thank God for the 7th. I can put that unit in before dawn, and see if we can hold. They tried to pinch off everything we had at Al Zamiyah today, and almost succeeded. I’ve got six brigades committed in the north, and our lines are thickening up. What I need now is news from Basra. He rang up General Grover to see what was going on.

  “Well,” said Grover, “we’ve only just come up, but the rail was cut, so we’ve had to detrain south of the city.”

  “Who cut that bloody line?” asked Wilson.

  “Arabs say that German Commandos infiltrated last night. There wasn’t much damage, but it would be six hours work to re-lay a section of that track, so I just told my boys that we’d hoof it from here. We’ll assemble just south of the Rashid Airfield.” That was the other big airfield, southeast of the city, and it would become very important now, as the Germans were already throwing artillery onto the main Al Muthana field west of the Tigris.

  “Well how soon will you get here?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t move out tonight. We’re still offloading the trucks and heavy equipment. It will be another24 hours, maybe less.”

  “Good enough,” said Wilson. “We’ll n
eed you, and it’s good to know you’re at hand. What about the 7th Indian?”

  “They’ve got to hold out at Basra and Abadan. I think it best we leave them there. In another four or five days, the 18th Division ships in from Perth.”

  “We may need them here as well,” said Wilson. “It’s been thick.”

  “I understand, sir. We’re coming.”

  But what else does Fritz have in the bag to throw at us, Wilson wondered?

  * * *

  Guderian was looking at the same question. Thus far, he had two good days of fighting, though his plan for day two had been foiled. Hube jumped the gun, he thought, but he achieved good results in spite of that enthusiasm. We did not expect they would have tanks here, but it seems they had something down south that came up last night. No matter, my panzers will still do the job. The attack by Konrad’s Lehr Regiment was outstanding. They nearly reached the main bridge, and I think they’ll get there in the morning. We’ve cleared Kazimiyah, taken that bridge, but they pulled out of the Al Zamiyah District before our pincers could close. 1st Brandenburg will cross at the bridge there tonight and mop up Al Zamiyah.

  Tomorrow a good deal rests on Hube’s shoulders. His divisions will just have to grind their way into the city. If I had one more infantry division to cover their sector, I’d send both panzer divisions east and south in another wide envelopment. But I will probably stand with ten other officers bemoaning the lack of good infantry these days. The 78th Sturm Division has given us good support, but they can only cover so much ground. The British certainly do not lack for infantry. Even these Indian divisions fight surprisingly well. Those troops down near the rail yard, the men with those long flashing knives, have held their ground against every attack put in against them. That was another surprise.

  Yes, they fought hard today. But tomorrow we should clear that rail yard and be looking at the airport. As for 10th Motorized down south, their progress has been slow. The British are fighting Schmidt hard there to keep those two royal palaces. Perhaps I deployed that division too far south. He might do better if I sent him up against the airport. That could force the enemy to give up the palaces if they want to defend that end of the field. Yes. I’ll have him move tonight.

  We’ve shown that we can push them, but they’re getting a lot of support up from the south. I didn’t think they would fight so tenaciously for this city. I had hoped to get here quicker, run rings around this place, and get them to withdraw like we did on the Euphrates. Well, they aren’t stupid. They know the value of holding this city, and they are putting all their chips in on this number. It will be as I feared. Baghdad will be my Moscow in the desert, and if I cannot go around it, then I must simply fight my way through it, as much as I would wish to do otherwise.

  I will still have the 901st Lehr Regiment, perhaps in another day as they come down on the Mosul Rail. Then I must see if there is any more fruit on the tree with a call to OKW. But I must take Baghdad first. Give Hitler this city, and he will be much more inclined to give me another division to garrison it. If I lose this fight and fail to push them out, then I think this Operation Phoenix stops here, and I will get no further support. So everything depends on this—everything.

  That evening, a combined kampfgruppe from elements of both panzer divisions smashed their way into the British Sports Club building, which was now a burning wreck. Reinhardt’s Company of Kommandos worked its way south through the snout of Al Zamiyah and slipped over the high stone walls around the Royal Mausoleum. He was soon standing on the tomb of old King Faisal.

  24 FEB, 1943

  (Map 5)

  The next morning, the Lehr Regiment renewed its assault towards the main bridge and Royal Ferry site. They broke through south of the bridge, exploiting in both direction to a depth of about 750 meters, but the British 2nd Suffolk Battalion remained cool under fire, the Sergeants moving their platoons back into a good defensive arc just 250 meters from the Royal Ferry terminal. Brigadier Reid had set himself up in the Ginning Mill just a couple hundred meters from the east end of the bridge, and he ordered the position reinforced with Assyrian Levy troops. He also had a small SAS company under Lieutenant More, and he sent them across to set up a defensive position at the west end of the bridge.

  His battalion of 25-Pounders boomed away at the Germans in that breakthrough zone, hoping to add to the chaos as their fast moving companies rushed into the breech. That attack had actually broken through the lines of Reid’s troops, and it forced his Punjab battalion to fall back south towards the Brick Kilns in the rail yard. For all intents and purposes, they were now part of Brigadier Barker’s 27th Brigade. He had asked for them the previous day, and now they were his to command from a tactical perspective.

  Just east of Al Muthana Air Field, there came the sound of firefighting in the Airport Settlement. Hauptmans Feller and Schultz had taken their two Kommando units along the winding west bank of the Khir, and they found a small foot bridge leading into that settlement. Two companies of the 3rd Brandenburg Regiment had followed them, crossing behind them to fan out through the hovels and shacks, scattering the local Arabs like a flock of crows.

  At the same time, Schmidt had moved his 20th Motorized regiment north to that sector as Guderian ordered the previous night, and now they had two battalions ready to support that attack. The defense there was part of the 10th Indian Division, under the man that Joe Kingstone had brow beaten on the Euphrates for his inept and sluggish deployments.

  Alan Bruce Blaxland had been given the job of defending Al Muthana Airfield, and the two Royal Palaces three kilometers to the south. He was headquartered in the King’s Western Palace, sitting behind a gorgeous polished mahogany desk in a large marble tiled room, with luxurious thick woven rugs—quite comfortable.

  Thus far the Germans had seemed to want to evict him from his plush appointments, so he had placed the whole of 21st Indian Brigade right on top of an elevated railway embankment that ran east of the palace grounds, the men lying prone in a good defensive position for a rifleman. He had his 20th Brigade watching the two good bridges over the Khir, but mostly centered on the second palace, that of the Crown Prince, a smaller estate about a kilometer north of the King’s Palace. Well-watered by the Khir, both estates were surrounded by verdant gardens, and the grounds were meticulously manicured, with well-trimmed hedges and pruned shrubbery.

  His last Brigade, the 25th under Brigadier Edward Arderne, was the one that mattered now, because Schmidt was shifting his division north, though Blaxland did not surmise this from his sumptuous post. Arderne had moved his HQ company into the Airport Hotel, about two kilometers from the Airfield Settlement, across the broad open flats of the tarmacs and runways.

  A career officer, Arderne was with the King's African Rifles at Arusha, Tanganyika, before the war, where he spent a good deal of his time indulging in a favorite hobby, big game hunting. He found himself in the Western Desert with O’Connor when the war broke out, gave a good account of himself at Tobruk, and won the DSO and a hefty promotion to his present position. He was a good officer, and so when he heard the sound of his own 25-pounders firing at the far end of the airfield, he got up from his breakfast table, got into a staff car, and sped off to see what was happening.

  Soon he saw streams of Arabs fleeing across the broad expanse of the airfield, and knew exactly what that meant. He got there just in time to assess the situation, and order his companies to tighten up their lines and concentrate in the settlement, where it was now house to house fighting—or rather hovel to hovel. Standing with his field glasses, he was astute enough to pick out the two different uniforms of the attacking enemy troops, so he got on the radio to Blaxland.

  “I think Jerry moved last night,” he said. “He seems to be throwing his left shoulder at the airport settlement. It looks like there’s men from that 10th Motorized Division here.”

  “Well, have you covered the position?” asked Blaxland.

  “Yes sir, I’ve pulled in two of my three b
attalions. The 5th Maharatta is still on the railway embankment.”

  “Very well. Keep me informed.”

  That was all Blaxland had to say, and then he went back to his own breakfast of two poached eggs, biscuits with marmalade, and a stout cup of tea.

  “Anything of interest, sir?” asked his adjutant, a Lieutenant Fitch.

  “Oh, that was just Arderne running about on the airfield. Nothing to get bothered over. Any more activity on our front?”

  “None to speak of, sir.”

  “Good. Looks like they don’t want any part of us. I was Johnny on the spot when I spied that good railway embankment. They won’t get in here, that’s for sure.”

  It certainly was. General Schmidt was somewhere else.

  Part VIII

  Bridges to Nowhere

  “ Happy roads is bunk. Weary roads is right. Get you nowhere fast. That's where I've got—nowhere. Where everyone lands in the end…”

  — Eugene O’Neill: Long Day’s Journey Into Night

  Chapter 22

  Joe Kingstone was restless. For the last two days he, and all of Kingforce, had been sitting on the Nadim Pasha Bund, a long elevated embankment overlooking the Army Canal that flanked the whole city for miles. His men had three days well deserved rest, but it was more down time than he had had in the last two months, and he suddenly needed to be doing something. So he rang up Jumbo Wilson, a question in mind.

  “There’s nobody here,” he said. “All I’ve got in front of me is the open desert, for miles on end, completely empty. All the fighting is on my left, where that German infantry crossed the canal and cleared out that Arab rat’s nest upstream from here. If Jerry gets through there, he’ll be behind me.”