Stormtide Rising (Kirov Series Book 29) Page 7

  “We’ve hurt them pretty bad, and stopped them cold,” said Randow.”

  “Good,” said Rommel, “but now we have another matter to resolve—the French. They appear to have found some backbone and joined the Allies. The Constantine Division is advancing on Ghafsa from the south. I need to get up north and flank Tebessa, and I’ll be taking the Tiger Battalion with me, but I will leave the Korps artillery here with you. Make good use of it against that American infantry. As for the French, I’d like you to assemble a strong Kampfgruppe from your division as well. Retain enough here to keep that American infantry division edgy, but you need not over exert yourself. Send that KG south to cover Ghafsa.”

  “Very well. I can send the recon battalion, a good tank battalion and some Panzergrenadiers.”

  “That will do. Keep me informed if anything changes here.” Then Rommel was off in his command vehicle, racing up the road to Feriana, his mood already souring as he went. There had been a log jam at Dernalia and Bou Chebka where Blade Force had fought a very stubborn defense. They were eventually forced out of that position by 7th Panzer, and fell back to the high ground that shielded Tebessa from the south, where Patton had tapped General Allen’s shoulder and told him to send a full RCT to lend a hand.

  This terrain is maddening, thought Rommel. No sooner do we fight our way through one tortuous mountain pass, when we are faced with another. This high country south of Tebessa sits there like a great stone wall, and if they are smart, they will get infantry dug in on those heights. Von Bismarck has made progress through Kasserine, and he is now 10 kilometers beyond the pass. But this terrain… The Americans just keep falling back from one ridge line to another. It’s no place for armor, and I had to leave both my infantry divisions at Mareth to backstop the Italians.

  There’s another problem. O’Connor is stirring to life again. He’s already moving up two infantry divisions against the Italian lines at Medinine. Those defenses should hold for a while. I placed the three Italian motorized infantry divisions on the line at Medinine. If O’Connor breaks through, then I have my two infantry divisions on the Mareth Line. They’ll hold. My men are dug in deep. but for how long? Two weeks? Three? That doesn’t matter. This will be decided here in a matter of days.

  * * *

  Patton stood beneath the high stone arch abutting from an old stone wall in Tebessa. It was an ancient Roman artifice, one of many in the ‘city of a thousand gates,’ as Tebessa was called.

  “Gaius Egrilianus built that,” he said, hands on his hips, his famous Ivory handled pistols close at hand. He had always worn one on each hip—ever since that foray into Mexico with General Pershing to get after that bandit Pancho Villa in May of 1914. Patton got into a close firefight during that action, armed with only one pistol, which he had to reload three times in that action. He ended up hitting Pancho’s number two commander, collecting his spurs as a souvenir, and after that encounter he always wore that second pistol for backup.

  “He was Prefect of the 14th Roman Legion,” said Patton, “and he was born in this very same town. Went off to find his fate and joined the Roman Army to make something of himself. When he returned home, he built this triumphal arch and then marched his whole goddamned legion through it in celebration. And here I am, standing on that same hallowed ground.” He smiled.

  “Old Magister Solomon incorporated this arch into the city wall there a couple hundred years later. His field works are all over this region, a real master of the art of fortification. He fought with the great General Belisarius here in Africa,” Patton nodded at Bradley still seated in the nearby jeep. “And I fought here with them….”

  “George, that’s a wonderful history lesson, but the Germans are about to take that ridge and ruin all of Solomon’s work if we don’t do something about it. We’ve got this war to fight.”

  “Well I’m your man for that, Brad. But it never hurts to remember you’re standing on the shoulders of other brave men who fought here before you. Alright. Let’s get moving. Take us on up to the artillery.”

  Patton had ordered General Allen to send every battery of artillery he could spare, and now he had a full three battalions from 1st Infantry Division, and three more battalions from the armored forces. He planned to meet the German attack with a hailstorm of lead.

  “Brad, after we look over the guns I want you to get up to Ain Beida. I ordered Fredendall’s Corps staff there this morning, and I want you to pull things together.”

  “What about Fredendall?”

  “I sent him to Oran.”

  “You relieved him right in the middle of a fight like this?”

  “Well, he wasn’t even in the goddamned fight! The man was holed up in a rabbit hole over 75 kilometers behind the front! Look, this is just temporary. I’ll send someone up to take over there for you tomorrow. In the meantime, do what you can to keep II Corps from folding until I can coordinate this thing with Montgomery.”

  “It was a miracle you got him to chip in on our side of the fence.”

  “A little diplomacy at the right time never hurts,” said Patton. “Now let’s see if he can fight.”

  “They say he did a damn good job stopping the Japanese at Singapore.”

  “Yes, the ’Rock of the East.” The only problem was that he gave the place to the enemy two weeks later and skedaddled over to Java. Now he’s claiming the mantle of ‘Rock of the West’ as well for taking back Gibraltar.”

  “Well the British need their heroes too, don’t they?”

  An hour later the guns began firing, answering preliminary fires from the Germans. Massed artillery is one of the most fearsome displays on any battlefield. Ever since the first war, it had been the bane of infantry holding any defensive position, and was even worse for those having to attack under enemy defensive bombardment. The dark earth sprayed up with every impact, wet with the rain and laced with steel shrapnel. The earth itself shuddered with the impact of the rounds, and Patton stood with the gun crews, his riding crop in one hand, urging them on.

  “Come on!” he shouted over the din of the guns. “Pour it on. Give it to the bastards!”

  The Germans would see the first waves of their Panzergrenadiers grounded by that artillery, but the tanks lumbered on, a few stricken and overturned on the main road, and one lighter Leopard recon tank literally blown into the air by a heavy round.

  Allen’s infantry had spent all morning climbing the heights of Hill 1545. By evening they were dug in there, with a fine view of the valley to the south, the road emerging from light woods and climbing the ridge shielding Tebessa. On and behind that ridge, Patton had lined up six more battalions of infantry, and at least three full battalions of tanks, backed by all that artillery. Now they were listening to it fire, and waiting for the inevitable response from the German guns. They knew they were on a hill the enemy would simply have to take if they wanted to use that road.

  When Rommel came calling he would be taking the cream of his veteran Panzer Divisions and trying to use them as a battering ram against that wall. It was not the battle he expected, not the swirling duel of maneuver where he certainly hoped to best his enemy, but the ground had dictated the time and place of the fight, and his enemy had chosen the ground.

  Something began prickling within his military mind by way of objection to what he was now obstinately doing here. His plan was to throw 21st Panzer against the lower ridge to the north of the main road, and use his old warhorse, the 7th Panzer, to push up the main road to Tebessa, right beneath the brow of Hill 1545. He could abandon the battle of attrition and still swing west around this high country, ignoring his objective and nominating another in its place. He could drive instead for far off Khelencheld, which was 80 kilometers east of Batna, the major American supply portal feeding Patton. At Khlencheld, he would be 45 kilometers south of Ain Beida, which was von Arnim’s main objective.

  You do not have to fight here, he said to himself—not for Tebessa. The indirect approach is always best; the unexpected
. Strike at their lines of communications, sever those road and rail connections! Yet if I do this, I could only take the 7th Panzer Division with me. Von Bismarck’s entire division would have to adopt a defensive posture here, and Randow’s troops are all tied up down south watching two divisions for me. Could I do this with only one division? That is not a question I would have ever asked myself in Libya—at least not in the beginning. I raced across all of Cyrenaica in a matter of days, and nearly all the way to the wire on the Egyptian border.

  The sound of that artillery duel throbbed in his head like the onset of a migraine. His mood darkened with each pulsing report, and his military mind stubbornly answered the question he had been speculating over the last few minutes.

  It’s no good trying to swing around to the left. If I had all of Randow’s 15th Panzer Division, I might contemplate such a move, but it is just not possible with Funck’s Division alone. It would be a mad dash into nowhere. I would have nothing to support it, and if this General Patton stands his ground, which I think he will, then I would have no recourse other than withdrawal. Unless…. Could von Arnim get to Ain Beida as planned? If so, the 7th could swing around Tebessa, and then turn north to link up. What was happening with von Arnim?

  That was going to decide everything.

  Yet now that stiff necked von Arnim tells me that Montgomery is sticking his nose in things. He says the Americans and British are planning a pincer attack aimed at cutting off his entire Korps. Ridiculous! I’m told he has paused his offensive pending further developments. Does he plan to renew it? I knew that weak-kneed aristocrat had no real stomach for a fight. He should have been at Ain Beida yesterday!

  He shrugged, raising an eyebrow. And I should have been in Tebessa by now, he thought. That night, a hard rain began to fall, and Rommel huddled inside his command vehicle, feeling very despondent. He was tired of the cold now, which was hard on his body. His health had been in decline for some time, a factor which OKW attributed to his setbacks in Libya… until they finally saw the tank he had been facing in those battles.

  Chapter 8

  They stared at it with a mix of awe, respect, and sheer fright. The Challenger II recovered from the battlefield near Mersa Brega had been examined by technicians for many weeks now, but it was finally time for Hitler and the senior officers of OKW to visit the Henschel plant in Kessel where Hitler was to view a new prototype of the Tiger, but first he was taken to a secure area to view the captured tank. Its long 120mm gun was bowed from the spiking demolition, the interior completely destroyed, but even in death, it was a dour spectacle.

  “This is the tank that stopped Rommel’s Panzers in Libya,” said the technician. We estimate its weight at approximately 62 tons, and heavier when fully combat loaded. Its main body is 3.5 meters in width, and 8.3 meters in length. This makes it a little bigger in all categories than our current Tiger and Lion series panzers. Yet size is not everything. We deduce its virtue can be attributed to two things, the exceptional design of the armor, and that monster of a gun, fully 120 mm. It is also reputed to be very fast for its size, which has everything to do with the engine and suspension.”

  Hitler walked slowly up to the beast, hands clasped behind his back, then he reached out and touched the armored turret. Keitel actually shirked when he did so, as if the tank might suddenly reanimate and become the snarling nemesis that the men in the field had described in so many reports.

  “What is exceptional about the armor? How thick?”

  “My Führer, it is not merely the thickness, but the actual material from which this armor is made that is so baffling. This side of the tank is intact, but to convince ourselves of the veracity of the battle reports, we conducted fire tests against the armor on the other side. It stopped every weapon, every round that we fired at it. There was absolutely no penetration.”

  “So Rommel was not belly aching about his fate in Libya after all,” said Keitel. Hitler looked at him over his shoulder, not appreciating the remark, and Keitel shrunk into silence.

  “What is it made of?” asked Hitler.

  “We are not entirely certain, but from our initial testing, it appears to be a mix of layered ceramic tiles.”

  “What? You are telling me this is armored by material used in my teacups?”

  “Not exactly. These are highly refined ceramics. Their compressive strength, shear strength, and tensile strength have been greatly enhanced. Each one may be a composite including other materials. We have already detected diamond in this armor, the hardest substance on earth. Then each tile is encased in a metal frame which we are presently analyzing. It is then bonded to another backing plate that includes some very elastic layers which allow this material to absorb shock from a high velocity weapon. The tiles can be damaged, but even so, this framework and bonding keeps them in place, and they still retain a great deal of stopping power against shaped charges. As for kinetic energy penetrators, the rounds simply shattered on impact.”

  Hitler nodded in a sullen silence. “And the gun?”

  “It is a 120mm rifled barrel, and its rounds completely penetrated any tank that faced it. We also estimate its range to be well beyond 3000 meters, and it was reportedly very accurate at that range.”

  Now the Führer turned to regard the man for the first time, for his eyes had never left the tank from the moment he saw it. “I assume you have something to show me in the next room that will answer this?”

  “We do, my Führer.” The technician extended his arm, leading the way. Hitler was about to view the first fully functioning production model for the newest Tiger tank, soon to be dubbed the Konigstiger , or Royal Tiger. The party moved slowly past the broken Challenger II, and through a large metal door.

  “This is the series one model of this new design, now in competition with the Lion-90. As you can see, it is every bit as impressive in size as this new British tank, in fact, it is heavier at over 68 tons, and wider. The British design is just a little longer, and with a better gun.”

  “What is that?” Hitler pointed to the main armament on the new tank.

  “At the moment, we have mounted it with our best version of the 88mm gun. The new Lions will use a 90mm gun.”

  “But I am told the Russians are building tanks with 122mm main guns. If they can do this, and the British, then we will do the same. Put a bigger gun on this tank. Now… What about the armor? I don’t suppose you are using diamond studded teacups?”

  That got a ripple of laughter, which died out quickly. Then the Technician explained that the Tiger II would have armor in the range of 100mm made of welded maraging steel, known to produce superior strength and toughness. But Hitler simply raised a hand, stopping the man. “Can our existing weapons penetrate this armor?”

  “Yes, that is possible. Our 88s can penetrate just over 150mm at 2000 meters.”

  “Well what good is this tank then?” Hitler gave him a wide eyed look. “Unless you can armor it to resist the enemy’s weapons, it will be nothing more than a waste of good steel. Improve the armor! Put a larger gun on it, and that goes for the new Lions as well. Rommel told me he would be in Cairo by now if not for that new British tank, and finally seeing it, I fully believe him. You must do better than this. Make it stronger! Improve the main gun. I want panzers that can master any opponent encountered on the battlefield.”

  He gave the Technician a level stare. “And do this quickly,” he said, turning and striding off with his officers in tow.

  * * *

  Montgomery was up early that morning, eager for news from 10th Armored. He had learned that O’Connor was back in the game, teeing up an offensive in the south. Now, as he considered the situation, he was forced to accept the fact that Patton was on to something. The real battle wasn’t with his position on the coast. The terrain was too constricted. He couldn’t use his armor in anything other than penny packet fashion. The infantry was slogging its way forward, but if the enemy flank could be turned in the south, this line would be forced to retrea
t.

  At 10:00 he got on the phone to Eisenhower telling him what he and Patton had worked out. “It’s a gamble, but I’ll raise that bet,” he said. “I have it in mind to send my 6th Armored south right on the heels of the 10th. This fight on the coast is for the infantry, and I’ve enough tank support organic to those divisions as it stands. Patton wants Souk Ahras, and I rather tend to agree with him.”

  That shocked Eisenhower for a moment, but with his two senior field commanders in actual agreement on something, and in the very process of carrying that plan out, he gladly gave the move his blessing.

  “Oh by the way,” Monty finished. “I’m sure you’re aware that O’Connor’s back in it. Don’t worry Ike, we’ll handle things.”

  Eisenhower gave that a wan smile, knowing that Monty was seeing this whole situation as the British Armies riding to the rescue of the Americans, but he said nothing.

  O’Connor was definitely a factor now. Though his armored force was still not replenished after the battle at Tarhuna, he still had strong tank brigades at his disposal, and very good infantry divisions that were going to be more than a match for the Italians. He then consolidated his remaining tanks to flesh out 1st Armored Division, sending most of the 7th Armored Brigade units back to Benghazi for shipment to Haifa. They were needed more in Syria than they were here in Tunisia. He would retain 22nd Armored Brigade, and along with 1st Armored and the strong 23rd Armored Brigade, he would have more than enough to support his infantry.

  That morning, he decided to throw his hardest punch right in the center of the enemy line, at Medinine. There he committed the remaining tanks of 1st Armored, and the 44th Home County Division, supported by lavish artillery bombardments. Right behind that attack, he brought up the tough 51st Highland Division, with 23rd Armored ready to make the exploitation upon breakthrough. He gave scant attention to the two Italian divisions on the flank of that attack, knowing that if he broke the center, they would have no choice other than to abandon their prepared positions and retreat.