Lions at Dawn (Kirov Series Book 28)

by John Schettler

  Perhaps the rumors are true, he thought. It was said that unit was at Tobruk when all those ammunition and fuel ships exploded. Perhaps it was badly damaged in that mishap. In any case, it was not here, and in fact, there’s been no sign of those monsters for some time. By now the one I sent to Tripoli for shipment to Toulon should have arrived. I wonder what our tank engineers will think of it when they get a look at it?

  For now, I’ve stopped O’Connor here again, just as I did at Mersa Brega. He claimed a victory there because I gave up the Buerat line. I don’t think he can claim one here. This position at Tarhuna is very strong. In fact, given this little victory here, I think I could hold it indefinitely. The Italians will be pleased, particularly Bastico and Cavallero. They undoubtedly promised Mussolini they would save Tripoli, and they were quite a nuisance when I decided to move here from the Buerat line. Well, I’ve save Tripoli for them. O’Connor will be a month or more trying to recover from this. If I had the troops Hitler pulled out for his campaigns elsewhere, I’d finish this O’Connor off once and for all. As it stands, I’ve enough force in hand to stop him, but cannot really push him back unless he chooses to go.

  That’s the way it will be here for a time, two desert rams butting heads, and neither one gaining any real advantage. As always, it will come down to logistics again in a situation like this. I’ve got good lines of communication to Tripoli, but one day, the Allies will realize that they have a navy in the Med, and they’ll move to try and interdict our sea lanes in a more forceful manner! That leaves me with a most uncomfortable feeling.

  We held a local advantage in the air here, but only because so much of the Western Desert Air Force is in Syria and Lebanon. I wonder how that little campaign is proceeding?

  Ah well, time to rest. First I will make my report to Kesselring so he can throw Hitler a bone and say we stopped O’Connor cold. Then I owe my Lucie a letter with a little more hope in it than those I was sending her earlier. When I retreated from Gazala to Mersa Brega, I had the feeling all was lost here in North Africa.

  Things have changed.

  Chapter 30

  Rommel was soon surprised to learn that Kesselring wanted him to file that report in person, and so he flew to Tunis on the morning of January 15 to meet with von Arnim. He offered a handshake to his opposite number in 5th Panzer Army, but found it cold, easily seeing the resentment in von Arnim’s eyes.

  This Silesian Peacock looks down on me, thought Rommel. I’ve been fighting here for two years, and now he thinks he will trump me simply because they have called his Korps a Panzer Army. Yes, von Arnim has always been an insider, graduating from the most prestigious schools, currying favor with the old guard, and looking down on anyone else he deems unworthy. I’m sure he took great satisfaction with my setbacks last year, and I suppose he thinks he can do better here. Yet he never had the Führer’s ear like I had, and frankly, he hasn’t swallowed an ounce of victory here. I have fought time and again, and often won, even against daunting odds.

  “Gentlemen,” said Kesselring, his discerning eye perceiving the frosty relationship between the two men. He would have to play the arbiter and referee here, and expected a tense and heated discussion. “I asked you here, Herr General, so that we can reach a mutual understanding on how we plan to conduct operations. As you know, the Americans have made some surprising moves of late, racing all the way to the Tunisian border. That was most unexpected, and it found us ill-prepared to adequately respond. Meanwhile, your hard fought victory on the Tarhuna line may have bought us an interval of calm on that front. Now we must decide how to address what will soon become the battle for Tunisia.”

  At least he has the decency to give credit when due and use the word victory, thought Rommel. “What are you proposing?” he said, knowing that Kesselring would have already determined what he wanted here.

  “To be forthright,” said Kesselring, “I believe we must first redress what I consider an imbalance in the present force allocations. At Tarhuna, you hold a front of no more than fifty miles with three Panzer divisions, two German infantry divisions, and at least three decent Italian divisions.”

  “Not to mention Ramcke’s Parachute Regiment,” said von Arnim. “That is a unit that was ordered to report to Tunis over two weeks ago.”

  “What?” Rommel played the fool. “I received no such order.”

  “Nonsense,” said von Arnim. “Or have you been so busy seeing to your collection of medals that you over look dispatches from OKW these days, and think you can just get away with it?”

  “I have overlooked nothing,” said Rommel. “I tell you no such order ever came to me. If it was sent, then it was lost in transit.” He stuck to the lie, for he knew it could never be flanked.

  “Never mind that,” Kesselring intervened. “Whether you received it or not, the order stands, and it comes directly from the Führer. So that unit must move immediately to Sfax. I will arrange shipping to get it up to Tunis, and from there it goes to Toulon, along with all the rest of Student’s Korps.”

  “What is going on?” asked Rommel.

  “We don’t know precisely, but Goring has been very busy of late collecting JU-52s in Greece.”

  Rommel proffered a wan smile. “Crete,” he said flatly. “Someone has some unfinished business to attend to there. Well, it may be too late for that. Those troops could have made a world of difference here. If Goring throws them at Crete, what will they do but sit there, assuming they can even take the place.”

  “That is not for us to decide,” said Kesselring. “And while we are on the topic of unit transfers, let me continue. While you hold a fifty mile front with eight divisions, von Arnim has little more than half that many to hold a line that extends from Bone on the northern coast all the way south to Gafsa and beyond—over 200 miles. We must redress that imbalance immediately. I will want, at the very least, one panzer division sent to southern Tunisia immediately. Then I would also prefer a German infantry division, either one will do, but if you cannot part with them, then you must send me two more Italian divisions.”

  “What? You want 30% of my Army?”

  “Your math is correct,” said von Arnim. “Frankly, as I see things, the eight division force should be here in Tunisia, and not in Tripolitania. Then you can try holding your fifty miles with four divisions, and see how you fare. I’m up against eleven Allied divisions here, and I believe you are contending with no more than seven or eight divisions in the British 8th Army. It’s a miracle I have been able to keep Eisenhower from rolling right in to Tunis, and if he does that, this whole affair is over—for the both of us.”

  Rommel’s eyes narrowed. He had expected this. They were going to continue to pick apart his Panzer Army Afrika, which was really not anything more than a good strong Korps by any standard he knew. Yet the imbalance Kesselring was pointing out was plain enough to see. In fact, he had considered a daring new plan himself, and now he decided to propose it.”

  “Suppose I sent you three good German divisions instead of two,” he said calmly, much to the surprise of both the other men. “And suppose this Field Marshall comes along with the bargain.” He looked at von Arnim now, knowing the mention of his leg up in rank would rankle him.

  Kesselring smiled. “What do you suggest?”

  Now Rommel leaned over the map table. “As you have seen,” he began, “the position at Tarhuna is very strong, but I can count no more than five or six supply ships that have made it down to Tripoli in the last two weeks. Goring has most of the Luftwaffe up north in Tunisia and Sicily, which is why I was quite surprised that the few fighter squadrons I had in hand did so well. This big operation into Syria and Iraq again was the reason for that. It caught the Allies off guard, and they have used their Western Desert Air Force to redress the initial imbalance on the ground in Syria. But that will not be the case for long. Bombers are already revisiting Tripoli daily, which is why I get most all of my supplies by Siebel Ferry along the coast now, which has become a long, dr
awn out affair. So aside from consoling the Italians with the thought that they still have part of a colony in North Africa, why do we need Tripoli?”

  “My thinking exactly,” said Kesselring. “In fact, I have spoken with both Bastico and Cavallero lately, and sounded out this idea to gauge their initial reaction. Face it, Libya is a lost cause, notwithstanding your gallant efforts there, Herr Field Marshall. Logistically, the distances were simply too imposing to keep your army adequately supported. It’s a miracle that you prevailed as long as you did, particularly against that new heavy armor that the British introduced. Strange that we have seen nothing of the kind here, and I hope to god we never do. That said, I suggested Tunisia might be a much better prospect for the Italians, and both Bastico and Cavallero agreed. They said Mussolini has always had his eye on Tunisia, and that he is fed up with the entire situation in Libya. After all, the Italians have taken the real beating there. They’ve thrown whole armies on the fire, and seen them burn, for what they were worth. So I think Mussolini would support a general withdrawal from Tripolitania. Is that what you propose?”

  “I do,” said Rommel enthusiastically. “There is good ground from Ben Gardane through Medinine, Mareth and Gabes. That ground is one of the most defensible positions in all of North Africa, even better than my present position at Tarhuna. I suggest I withdraw there immediately. I can position my Italian Korps at Medinine, backstop it with one good German infantry division and possibly one of my Panzer divisions. That would allow me to then lead a decent Panzer Korps into southern Tunisia to cooperate with you, von Arnim. The Mareth line is our Thermopylae. We can retire there in stages if heavily pushed by O’Connor, making our last stand there opposite Gabes. The badlands west of that port will make it very difficult for them to flank that position. They’ll simply have to power through, which will take time. And I can use that time to smash the Americans, allowing von Arnim to concentrate his smaller force on stopping Montgomery.”

  “Then you propose to operate in Tunisia yourself?”

  “I believe I was clear on that,” said Rommel.

  Von Arnim noted that Rommel gave without yielding anything with this proposal. He would retain command of all the divisions he brought into Tunisia, and nothing would go to strengthen 5th Panzer Army directly. Yet even with that arrangement, his situation would be infinitely better than it was now, where it was only time, supplies, and the winter mud that was preventing Patton from pushing all the way to Sfax. He knew that with Conrath’s division added to Fisher’s 10th Panzer, he might put in one good counterattack, but Patton still had all of six divisions, outnumbering him three to one in the south.

  “What if I joined you in this attack,” he said quietly, giving Rommel a cautious look. “I have positioned my mobile units here, near Medkour and Kassem. The Americans have stopped to consolidate their position along the rail line from Constantine to Tebessa. If Patton gets up more fuel and supplies for another move, and if he attempts to make a run for Sfax as we believe, then it was my plan to strike due south towards Ain Beida again to cut him off. We still hold Tebessa, but they are massing troops to take that soon. If you can move quickly, up through the pass at Faid and through Sebeitla, then we can coordinate the offensive together.”

  “That is agreeable… Assuming we have a clear understanding of who is in command. We cannot be working at cross purposes. We will need to centralize command in one head, and given the fact that I am the ranking officer here, the choice should be obvious.”

  That didn’t sit well with von Arnim. “We determined to force you to send me two divisions, and now here you are ready to take over nominal command of the two I already have! This is not acceptable to me.”

  Kesselring could see that this difference of personalities would not do well on the battlefield. Before von Arnim could voice his objection, he spoke up, hoping to end the battle between these two men here and now so they could fight as one coordinated team.

  “It is clear that you rank von Arnim,” he said to Rommel, “but not me. I also hold the Field Marshall’s baton, and Hitler has appointed me Oberbefehlshaber Süd, commander of all German forces in the south within this theater. Therefore, if the two of you cannot agree, then I have no recourse other than to assume authority for operational command myself. This will mean that both of you will receive and execute orders directly from me. Understood? We have enough to do while fighting the British and Americans. We cannot fight yet another battle amongst ourselves. Von Arnim?”

  “Agreed,” said the General.

  “Herr Rommel?”

  The Field Marshall took a long breath. He had been running the show for the last two years in Africa, all under the organizational control of the Italians, though he largely did what he pleased. That independence had been curtailed only by Hitler himself, but he also remembered those times when Kesselring had been a strong ally and advocate for him. He would get a great deal of what he wanted if this plan were carried out, and finally be done with Libya once and for all. So he decided to agree.

  “Very well,” he said stolidly. “Assuming Hitler approves this arrangement, I will agree.”

  “That will be the sticking point,” said Kesselring. “Getting Hitler to approve your withdrawal from Tripolitania may not be easy. In this, I plan to rely heavily on Mussolini himself. I think I’ve convinced him of the merits of settling in at Tunisia as opposed to continuing to fight for Libya. Let us see what we can do.”

  Much was different in this telling of events. Here Rommel was not the broken spirit he had been in the old history, his health failing, beset with wracking headaches, sores on his lips and feet, and more jittery than he had ever been. His morale had sunk to an abyss, and retreat seemed his only answer. He had lost the respect of the Italians, who summarily sought to replace him with one of their own Generals.

  This time, Rommel had the highly successful holding actions at both Mersa Brega and Tarhuna under his belt. He had not faced the nemesis of the British Heavy Brigade in either battle, save the small force he encountered near Mersa Brega. He had regained a measure of his old warfighting ability, like a boxer fading in the late rounds, laying on the ropes, and then suddenly finding the strength to punch in flurries and keep his opponent at bay.

  And this time the Italians were of another mind entirely. They had seen one division after another swallowed in the abyss of Libya, and now Goring’s supply system reforms had rendered Tripoli a little used port. Their own navy no longer wanted to risk the much lengthier sea route to Tripoli, all of 600 miles from Naples through the Strait of Messina. Those convoys had been relatively safe under the protection of friendly air cover from Sicily and Malta. It was only the last 100 miles that found them subjected to withering attack by Allied bombers out of Benghazi, and now from rapidly organized air fields around Sirte.

  Now most everything went through Tunis, and then by lighter and Siebel Ferry down the coast, or by rail lines south to Sousse and Sfax, and even Gabes. Giving up Tripoli was not without its negative effects. The port and airfields there would surely be put to good use by the Allies, who would now hold two good ports from which they might attack Malta or Sicily. In the end, the decision would rest with Hitler, and several factors would affect that outcome.

  First off, there had been no debacle at Stalingrad. In fact, Volgograd was now largely controlled by German troops, though Soviet resistance there continued. Secondly, the massive Operation Uranus and Saturn offensives staged by the Soviets had already played themselves out, and Zhukov had even thrown in another planet with Operation Jupiter and his attempt to retake Kursk. Manstein had been able to stop the Russian offensive, and now Model’s 2nd Panzer Armee had been withdrawn from the pocket it had been trapped in for over a month, those units had provided the fodder for new operations that were now the apple of the Fuhrer’s eye.

  Hitler marked the progress of the Brandenburg Division down the Euphrates with renewed spirits. His forces in Syria had seized Aleppo, and were now closing in on Homs an
d Palmyra. The Brandenburgers had swept swiftly through Ar Raqqah and were now closing on Dier Zour. They even had advanced patrols within 30 kilometers of the Iraqi border. The prospect of flanking the British in the Middle East was a dazzling idea in his mind now, and he entertained notions of driving through Baghdad all the way to Basrah. He was also restlessly anticipating the launching of Operation Merkur against Crete, which he fancied as an outer castle wall that would protect the Aegean Sea, and the straits near Istanbul beyond that he now relied on as the life line for Operation Phoenix.

  So when Kesselring made his appeal, he couched the whole plan as a strategic rebalancing of forces aimed at dealing the Allies in Algeria a decisive check. He even went so far as to suggest that if Rommel could be permitted to reinforce Tunisia, then he could entertain thoughts of a renewed offensive aimed at driving the Allies out of Algeria altogether. Hitler was largely amenable to the plan, but then Rommel’s own victory at Tarhouna became an obstacle. The Führer seized upon it as evidence that Tripolitania could still be defended, and ordered the line at Tarhuna to be held. He even issued orders that the 337th Infantry Division, a unit that had fought in Spain, could now be sent to North Africa to bolster the defense at Tarhuna, leaving Rommel free to reinforce Tunisia as the three Generals there saw fit.

  Then he also did something that would affect the balance of power in the west a great deal. When Goring came to him with increasing complaints about the diminishing power of his Luftwaffe forces in the West, Hitler told him that he still had three months before the Spring thaw in Russia, and told him he was therefore free to transfer any aircraft he desired to bolster operations elsewhere. Up until now it had been II Fliegerkorps in North Africa, reinforced by X Fliegerkorps from Greece. Now Goring was free to move anything else.