Grand Alliance (Kirov Series) (25 page)

So he
moved, a grey ghost racing in his staff car, from one frantic unit to the next,
field glasses in one hand, a map in the other. “We ran into something we did
not expect,” he told the men. “It is my fault. Now I want you to move your
battalion here. Get any vehicle that can still move on this road and follow it
west. Our defense was too hasty. We’ll find better ground to the west and
regroup.”

Units
of 15th Panzer and 5th Light were all intermingled now, but the troops still
cooperated and moved off as he ordered. The German command structure was so
flexible, and the unit training so thorough, that his units retained tremendous
cohesion, even in a confused retreat like this. Rommel watched them go. The
ones who had not yet seen the enemy tanks were the bravest, ready and quick to
move with any order. The men coming back from the front line were quite
different, sallow eyed, pale, bloodied and dispirited. He did his best to rally
them, worrying now that the infection of their loss would soon spread through
his army.

In time
he managed to get his divisions sorted out, and was grateful that the British
attack seemed to stop. He had gathered together elements of his recon battalion
as a fire brigade to throw in should the enemy persist in their attack, but
they stopped two kilometers south of Bir el Khamsa.

Thank
god for that, he thought. They must be strung out as badly as we are. What I
need to do now is extricate my battalions and get to better ground. I’ll
consolidate later, but now it is time to move. Then I’ll huddle with the
division commanders and we’ll determine what to do next. He heard nothing from
Streich for some hours, until he was told the man was reported dead. So he took
personal charge of the division, driving them west with tireless energy.

The
Desert Fox had been outwitted by the British. The sudden appearance of this
enemy armored force had completely unhinged Rommel’s plan. As one unit after
another peeled off and began the retreat, it exposed other units in the long
line that stretched nearly eighty kilometers along the stony escarpment that
pointed north to Sollum and Halfaya Pass. And he had the Italians to worry
about as well. Once he was satisfied he had his two divisions moving as he
wished, he sped off north to find the Ariete Division where it was operating on
the main road just south of the escarpment.

As the
day lengthened, a shadow fell over his mind and soul that whispered that
unspeakable word—defeat. They would get half way to the Egyptian border before
the retreat would halt for the night, and he would spend long hours helping the
columns get fuel wherever they could find it. That was his main concern now.
Though he knew he would not sleep that night, or have any time to spend writing
his dear Lucie about what had happened, he was already composing the letter in
his mind.

“Dear
Lu… We’ve hit a bit of a setback today, a force of British reserves that we had
not expected. It seems they have been reinforced with new tanks, and I can only
wish I could say the same thing! The men are tired, with a long month of
fighting in these harsh desert conditions laying heavily upon them, but they
are still good soldiers. The worst of it is that we have no fuel. I have had to
leave many non-essential vehicles behind, siphoning off their gasoline so the
lorries and tanks can move, and I can get my flak batteries and artillery to
better ground. I can see now that until this situation is cured, I can make no
further move to the east.

“Perhaps
that is for the best, Lu, as it will give me time to meet with Paulus and make
my case. I smell a little intrigue here from the General Staff, most likely
Halder again, but Paulus is a good man, and above most of that. You remember
him, my good friend from the early days. We were both Company commanders
together at Stuttgart. He’s been sent over to take stock and see what might be
done to better the supply situation. I am told that I’ll get another division
soon, the 90th Light, but what I really need now is another good Panzer
Division, and the gasoline to keep the tanks running! I’ll write more later,
once our position is secure. For the moment, it’s a few steps back to Libya,
that is all. Then we’ll dust ourselves off and see about Tobruk. Perhaps I was
unwise to bypass that fortress and leave it to the Italians.”

Yes, he
thought, very unwise…

Chapter 21

The
British advance was
equally disorganized. O’Connor had stayed with the 7th Brigade during the
attack, working hand in hand with Kinlan, advising him on desert conditions,
and what he would be likely to encounter from the Germans.

“They’re tough, professional
troops,” he said. “The shock must have hit them very hard, but they are far
from beaten. If I were in Rommel’s place I would be doing exactly what he’s up
to now—a good fast retreat to El Agheila and Mersa Brega. I’ve seen that
ground, and it is very strong terrain for defense. What we need to do now is
get General Wavell out here and see what we can muster for an advance.”

“And go through the show and tell
again with him?” said Kinlan. “I’m still pinching myself, General, and I have
no doubt you are too.”

Fedorov came in with Popski,
congratulating them both on the quick victory. “It was as I expected,” he said,
“but I would not become complacent here. The Germans will learn and adapt.”

Fedorov knew that the Germans had
suffered a similar shock in Russia when they encountered the Soviet T-34 and
heavy KV-1 tanks. They were nowhere near as capable as the Challengers, but
they did shock the Germans when they realized that none of their existing tanks
could penetrate the armor on a T-34, let alone the KV-1. But the Germans
adapted their tactics and were able to cope until they could field better tanks
in the Panzer IVF, Panther and Tiger models.

“They will be discussing new
tactics down on battalion and company level even now. The next time you will
meet a much more prepared defense.”

“What we need now is good
intelligence,” said O’Connor. “From reports I’ve heard, our own boys don’t
really know the whole story on this brigade yet. All they know is that the 7th
is back, or so I’ve heard on the radio.”

“And that is all they need ever
know,” said Fedorov. I can understand that General Kinlan will eventually have
to present the reality of this situation to all of his men, but the inverse
would not be wise. General knowledge of the real origin of this brigade must
remain a secret.”

“Well,” said O’Connor, “Wavell
will want to know what in bloody hell the men are talking about, because he
knows damn well the 7th Armored Division is still at Alexandria. That hat will
fly off in the wind in due course.”

“Wavell will be briefed, but that
doesn’t mean the rank and file must know everything. Most would have a good
laugh at the story, and not believe a word of it. It is simply too fantastic to
explain what has happened—I’m sure you understand this General O’Connor. What
they will believe, however, is that Great Britain has a new unit here in the
desert, a highly secret unit. Men of war inherently understand the need for
secrecy in battle. That is the card we must play here. This is very
important—critical in fact.”

“Agreed,” said O’Connor, but if
these men are to fight alongside our boys, it will certainly get chins wagging
when they see this equipment.”

“General Kinlan’s brigade can
operate independently,” Fedorov suggested. “Perhaps it could secure the extreme
southern flank as you move west again. That is the flank Rommel will always
need to use should he attempt another mobile battle. Placing the 7th Brigade
there would serve to check that and confine any renewed German offensive to the
coastal region.”

“Perhaps,” said Kinlan, “and I
understand what you are urging us to do now, Captain Fedorov, but war is not
often so tidy. Military contingencies might compel me to render close support
to existing British or Commonwealth units here, and in time, I will need their
support as well. My brigade has limited supplies of food and water in train,
not to mention ammunition. I’m not sure anything can be done about the latter,
but we’ll need other supplies, including fuel for our vehicles, and it will
have to come from the existing logistics network here.”

“I might suggest we establish a
dedicated forward depot to support your troops with these necessities,” said
O’Connor. “I can arrange this for you. I’m not sure how your men will handle
bully beef tins and biscuits, but I think we can keep you fed. Hauling fuel and
water south into this desert is another matter, particularly if you move
further west. It will take some planning, and the trucks of course, but it
could be done.”

“How is the fuel situation?”
asked Fedorov through Popski.

“We have the Challenger IIE,
here, the upgraded model with the improved 1500hp Europack powerplant. It’s
very efficient and left room for much more fuel in the tank. Our range is about
550 kilometers. We’ve come about 150 kilometers north from Sultan Apache, so
I’ve plenty of fuel in the tanks still, and the supply train has fuel enough to
refill all our vehicles one time. After that we need diesel to keep moving.”

They hovered over the map and Kinlan
began to point out a plan he had been considering. “You hold the oasis at Siwa,
do you not?”

“We have men there, but remember
that Italian division we observed. They’ve relieved Giarabub, but don’t seem
interested in doing anything more for the moment.”

“Then I propose to move them out
of Giarabub directly. That was what your Aussie battalion was wanting to do,
but it’s clear they won’t have the force. Once I do that I can establish my
main supply hold at Giarabub. You wouldn’t have to move supplies for me all the
way to the west. If you can run supplies from Mersa Matruh down to Siwa, then
my trucks can pick them up there and move them west to support my move to this
position…” He pointed to the edge of the Great Libyan Sand Sea that stretched
west to a point above the Jalu oasis.

“If I move along the edge of that
desert, we can secure Jalu for an additional source of water, and then that
will be built up to a new forward supply base. Once I settle in north or northwest
of Jalu, I’ll be in a position to bushwhack any move the enemy makes on your
southern flank, and also free to operate with the intent of threatening the
enemy flank as well. My force is capable of standing against anything they
throw at us, at least as long as our munitions hold out. So if you can move
supplies to Siwa, principally fuel, I’ll handle the rest.”

“Excellent. I think we can manage
that, General Kinlan.” O’Connor was very excited now, but did have a question
that needed asking. “Yet you’ve mentioned ammunition on more than one occasion.
How long can you operate before you’ll need replenishment?”

Kinlan looked at Fedorov as
Popski translated for him, then folded his arms. “Sergeant Major!” he looked
over his shoulder, and the Sergeant was quick to attention.

“Sir!”

“Fetch me a Charm round from the
Brigade HQ troop stocks.

“Right away, sir.”

When the man returned, Kinlan
could hand O’Connor something tangible by way of answering his question. The
round was an Armor Piercing Fin Stabilized Discarding Sabot, with a bright
orange base that narrowed to a thin molded frame. That eventually widened to a
silver rimmed base from which a long, black spike projected, the business end
of the penetrating round. It used both Tungsten and depleted Uranium to make it
the lethal weapon it was, and its unorthodox shape and configuration
immediately answered one question.

“I don’t suppose your people have
any of those lying about,” said Kinlan. “That round uses materials your
industry will not have at the moment, and I’m afraid there is no way it could
be duplicated. So this is a come as you are party for us, General. Once we fire
the last of those little devils, the show is over. My tanks have a mix of
various munitions, but I’ve no more than 150 rounds per tank. That said, if we
make them count, each one of these demons can put one of Rommel’s tanks out of
business, and then some. He’s already seen what they can do, and that has
everything to do with why he’s headed west now. That and some precision
artillery fire from our long range 155s.”

“I understand,” said O’Connor,
hefting the round and handing it back to the Sergeant. “And I don’t suppose we
would be much help with your maintenance issues either.”

“I’m afraid not. No General, you
can send us food, fuel, water, and perhaps small arms munitions. I’ll put my
people on it and we’ll see what, if anything, we can use.”

“I suggest I go to Wavell now in
the KA-40,” said Fedorov. “I can speak Russian with him, and prepare him for
what he will find when he arrives here. Perhaps a note or some communication as
to the urgency of our meeting, from you General O’Connor, would be useful as
well.”

“Certainly,” said O’Connor,
tapping his riding crop. He was beginning to feel right at home here, his eyes
still transfixed whenever a Challenger II was near. The thought he had such a
force within his grasp now was rousing, after scraping along with Mark VI
machinegun tankettes and old cruiser tanks that could barely get fifty miles
before they broke down. He had seen the brigade in action, and was awesomely
impressed. The power they represented was fearsome, even though he understood
it was limited now, as Kinlan had clearly explained. His mind looked ahead to
what would follow this victory, and the immediate moves the British might now
undertake.

“The problem now is occupying all
the Ground Rommel has decided to give us back,” said O’Connor. “We did it once,
but it took us a good long month. I was able to clear the Jebel country with
the 6th Australian Division, while I took everything else across the base of
the peninsula to Agedabia and Beda Fomm. We’ll likely do that again, but that
report of Italian troops massing on Benghazi is bad news. If they decide to
hold out there it would require us to invest the place, and we just haven’t
enough infantry yet to do that, and also hold a front facing the Germans at
Mersa Brega.”