Grand Alliance

Chapter 31

All that week the British planes kept coming in to harass the retreating German columns. Even though German air cover was good, some planes inevitably would get through to make attacks. They seemed to select one segment of the front each day and concentrate their effort there. One day they would attack between Agheila and Agedabia; and on another between Agedabia and Benghazi, particularly against thin skinned vehicles, the vital trucks that would move supplies and petrol needed to sustain operations. Other times they would strike the long roads from Benghazi to Derna where the slower Italian infantry divisions that had been investing Tobruk slogged along on foot. The attacks were not heavy, but nonetheless effective.

British Hurricanes were now able to land at Tobruk and El Adem as good forward refueling bases, and conducted low level strafing attacks, always against moving columns, as it was learned that stationary vehicle parks would put up much heavier AA defense. The doughty Blenheim twin engine fighter bomber was very useful in the latter role. While it could easily carry 250 to 500 pound bombs, the air crews had modified it to use racks of much smaller bombs as light as 20 pounds, with HE fragmentation loads that would be thick on shrapnel in the hopes of penetrating any containers being used to transport fuel. Particular attention was given to the port of Benghazi, where strings of small incendiaries would be used against ships.

The supply situation was far from satisfactory, thought Paulus. Tripoli is all of 1100 miles behind the front, the distance from Hamburg to Rome! Benghazi is of limited use, as the British themselves learned when they held a brief lease on that port after O’Connor’s first successful advance. Concentrated attacks there by enemy aircraft made it unsuitable as a functioning supply port. Now that we have it, it seems they have decided to return the favor, and Benghazi is visited day and night by enemy bombers. Until these interdiction campaigns were dialed up, the port had been useful for delivery of between 1500 and 1700 tons per day, and the engineers believed they could improve facilities and operations there to increase this to 2000 tons per day. I am aware of the Führer’s order to hold this port, just as the British stubbornly held on to Tobruk. At its root, the order underscores the need for viable port facilities to move supplies, but Rommel believes any attempt to hold Cyrenaica is foolish, and said as much to me when I came to assess the situation.

“Benghazi is not Tobruk,” said Rommel. “It has no major fortifications in place, and can be approached from all directions. Anything we leave there is as good as lost. Our only chance of holding any line is here, between Agheila and Agedabia. The position at Mersa Brega is a bottleneck, with bad ground for mobile operations to the south. It is one of the best defensive positions in Libya. That is where I will make my stand.”

Paulus smiled. “That is where you were told to set up your division as a blocking force last month! What possessed you to disobey the Fuhrer and go charging off to Tobruk?”

“The British were off balance. They were worn out and easily beaten. You saw how they retreated east when I moved. That would have continued, whether or not they held on to Tobruk. It was not until this new force suddenly appeared on our deep right flank that everything went to hell. We were right in the middle of an enveloping movement that had every prospect of breaking their last line of defense. Then I had to pull out of that attack and redeploy to the south, and the defense was too hasty.”

Paulus was silent for a time, thinking. “I spoke with Cramer,” he said in a low voice. “He said the British deployed new armored vehicles unlike anything he had ever seen — massive new tanks that make their old Matildas look like children’s toys! He said the Matildas were trouble enough, even for the 50mm gun, but these new tanks are fearsome. He engaged and found his own armor was completely overmatched. They were able to see and strike our own tanks at ranges well beyond the effective firing radius of even our best Panzer IIIs.”

Rommel’s eyes had a haunted look in them now. “I heard this, but did not believe it — until I went forward to see for myself. I was looking for Streich, but heard he was dead. I hate to say it, but good riddance. The man was a thorn in my side from the very first. Kircheim will take the division now until I can find someone else. I requested Ravenstein.”

“He’s coming,” said Paulus. “Too bad for Streich.”

“Yes, his position was one of the first to spot and engage this new British force with a small battery of 150s. Unfortunately, he received direct counter-battery fire in a matter of minutes. My god, Paulus, everything Cramer said about these new British tanks is true! They are enormous! I saw a company sized unit lead their attack, and the Pak 37s and 50s in the forward screen were no more effective than throwing gravel at the damn things! Fortunately, I had ordered the flak batteries to set up a Pakfront west of that hill. It was a good position. A wadi channeled the enemy advance right toward the hill where Streich died. I had twelve 88s covering that defile, and that should have been enough to end the matter.”

He stopped, clearly bothered now, a desperate expression on his face. “But it wasn’t enough, Paulus. They hit those gun positions with artillery and took out three or four 88s in a matter of minutes. The others returned fire, and I saw them getting hits, but could not believe it. The tanks just kept coming! I saw one hit three times, and it sustained no significant damage. Then they returned fire and took out three more guns. We were lucky to get the remainder out and retreat north. Do you understand what this means? Those were 88s, and they could not penetrate this new British tank armor! They were completely useless! We have no anti-tank weapon in the army that can better the performance of that gun. For all intents and purposes, these new British tanks are invulnerable, and if that is so…”

He did not have to say anything more, leaning heavily over the map, the weariness of many sleepless days of fighting very evident now. “So now you know why I have no intention of trying to hold Cyrenaica. It can’t be held by a mobile force. I could order infantry into the Jebel country, but once the British push through to Beda Fomm as they did before, they will be completely isolated. If the Führer wants us to stand at Benghazi, then let the Italians hold the place. I will not leave my troops there.”

“We’ll have new reserves very soon.” Paulus tried to encourage him. “The 90th Light is already arriving at Tripoli and will be heading east to join you. There will be more troops coming soon. A few weeks ago OKW moved 1st Mountain Division and the Grossdeutschland Regiment from Spain to Italy. They were the troops that broke the Rock of Gibraltar. I thought they were heading for the new front along the southern border near Ukraine, but I was wrong. They are coming here, and another Panzer division is being assigned to your Korps as well.”

“Another Panzer Division? I can certainly use it, but we can barely support the two mobile divisions I already have. Add the 90th Light and we’ll be lucky to get water to the men, let alone fuel and ammunition!”

“The supply situation is at the top of my list,” said Paulus. “That and the trucks to move it. You are correct in what you say concerning Benghazi. Tripoli is the only port we can rely on in the short run, but we are speaking with the Vichy French about Tunis and Bizerte.”

“Tunis? It’s 1400 kilometers from here to there!”

“Yes, but there’s a decent rail line from Tunis south — almost all the way to Mareth. That will cut the distance to a thousand kilometers. It’s farther than that from here to Alexandria. You didn’t seem to think that was a problem when you started east, did you?”

“Believe it or not, Paulus, I have learned a few things about operations in this desert in the last few weeks. It was going to be difficult to extend real force to the Nile even without the appearance of these new reinforcements for the British. Two divisions will simply not be enough. Five might do, but the British would match them in time, and supplying them that far east would be a nightmare. No. What we must do now is fight the British on ground of our own choosing, and beat them — decisively. We can only advance east again if we have that victory in hand, and destroy the British Army here…. Before they destroy us!”

“You are beginning to see things clearly now my friend,” said Paulus. “No more joy riding with inadequate force, and even less gasoline. You may have had trouble with Streich, but I’ve read his reports, and he was often correct. Logistics, Rommel, that is the key. I will advocate that we press the Vichy French hard for immediate use of Tunis and Bizerte. It is only 500 kilometers to good ports in eastern Sicily, or to Naples from Tunis, and only three hundred kilometers if we can use Palermo. A supply convoy can make that in one overnight trip, unload by day, and be ready to sail back again the following night. From there we use the rail line to Mareth, and begin extending it east as well. Engineers, Rommel. Trucks, quartermasters and good engineers! That is what we need now as much as another battalion of tanks. Your force will soon see a dramatic buildup in strength and material. And with this scaled up supply strategy, we will sustain these new divisions. It will take time, and the shortage of transport is the main problem, but between the French and OKW, we will get you the trucks you need. My only question now is this — what do we do here? A drive east again is out of the question.”

“For the moment,” said Rommel. “And if these new tanks are delivered to the British in numbers, it will be out of the question entirely.”

“Exactly how large was this new British force?”

Rommel gave him a grim smile. “Large enough,” he said dejectedly. “I saw no more than ten or fifteen of these new tanks, but they had at least two mechanized infantry battalions in support. It could have been no more than a brigade, but it hit like a sledge hammer! They were enough to smash right through that Pakfront and nearly decimate my infantry. I had 2nd and 8th Machine gun battalions in good defensive ground. It was a hasty defense, but the men were in position when the attack came. The British also have an new infantry carrier — fast, and with a decent gun. It sounded like a Bofors. In fact, I thought they were tanks until I saw the infantry deploy. They put accurate suppressive artillery fire on us, moved up like lightning with these new vehicles, and shot the position to pieces. The infantry only deployed to mop up, because by that time our men had had enough, I ordered the retreat soon after, and if the Führer wants me to stop and defend this useless desert in Cyrenaica, he’s a fool. Until we find a way to stop these tanks there will be no more good news from North Africa.”

Paulus nodded. “And no more medals for Herr Rommel. Well, don’t fret about it. This is merely a setback.”

“Don’t put such sweet icing on the cake,” said Rommel. “I can do that with my letters home to Lucie, but we were soundly beaten, and for the first time in this war. If I had left my divisions in place they would have been destroyed. Casualties were heavy, and I will be lucky to have material for one good division between both 5th Light and 15th Panzer. We left the rest in the desert south of Bir el Khamsa. That’s what they’re calling it now — the Battle of Bir el Khamsa. I suppose I will have to live with it, our first major defeat.”

Paulus folded his arms. “You thought we would win every battle, did you? That seldom happens in war, Rommel. A good defeat can actually be healthy for an army, as long as morale is strong and the officers and men learn from the loss they suffered. I will speak with the Führer and get him to understand why Mersa Brega is the best defensive line now, but learn a good lesson from this. You will have to re-think your tactics here. We were masters of maneuver warfare, but this new enemy armor has changed the whole balance. You may have to rely on defensive tactics until we can better assess this situation. This position at Mersa Brega looks strong. Dig in, Rommel. No more dashing off on the southern flank. Dig in behind mines and wire, and site your artillery well. I don’t care how thick the armor is on these new British tanks. They won’t like a hit from a 150mm HE round. The concussion alone will knock the men senseless.”

“True, if they hit anything. They are not the most accurate weapons, Paulus, as you well know.”

“I understand, but you will have to use saturation fires at the point of the enemy attack. I’ll see about getting you some good heavy nebelwerfers. We have rocket munitions too. Pre-register your guns! Think like an infantry division commander now. Infantrie Greift! Did you not write such a book? You cannot resort to blitzkrieg tactics with your tanks now.”

“At least not against those heavy tanks I saw. We might be able to hurt their infantry carriers.”

“Yes? Well, if the 88s cannot stop their heavy tanks, then use your artillery and infantry. Scissors, paper and rock, my friend. In war there are always alternatives. You cannot use the sharp, cutting scissors in your Panzer Divisions against this new British rock, so use paper — Infantry! I will see about getting better air support from Goering, which reminds me, he has also offered to send his brigade to bolster your forces here. It’s in Italy as well.”

“The Goering Brigade? Good. Tell the fat oaf to come along as well, and I’ll put him right on the front line. The British will take one look at him and run the other way!”

Paulus smiled. “You are too hard on the man. That brigade has some tough men in it, good equipment, and we will need Goering’s cooperation to make certain you get the air support. With his own brigade here, I can assure you he will be more than willing to send the Stukas our way. There is your answer to these new British tanks—500 pound bombs and good artillery, minefields in well prepared defensive positions. Mersa Brega is a narrow place. Dig in there, and if they try to push through, we’ll see how things go this time. As for the supplies, I will get you everything I possibly can.”

Rommel shrugged. Think like an infantry commander! His stock in trade had been that of the dashing Panzer leader, but he knew that Paulus was correct. He would have to adapt his methods and tactics to face this alarming new enemy armor. It could not be a very large force, and how they managed to get it positioned there on his deep right flank was yet another mystery, but it might be solved by tactics like those Paulus suggested.

“What about the Italians?” Paulus moved to a new subject. “You don’t really mean to leave them in Cyrenaica, do you?”

“The Italians… Yes, they are another problem,” said Rommel. “Those that manage to get east will be little more than mouths to feed here. If I had my way I’d have them all shipped back to Italy. I can use a few of their motorized divisions — or at least use their trucks, but the infantry is useless. If the Führer insists I hold Benghazi, then I’ll post the Italian infantry divisions there and we’ll see how long they last. O’Connor rounded up over 30,000 the last time he came west. Our best strategy might be to send them all the rest, and then let the British feed them!”

“Very well, defend Benghazi. The British will take it, but it will delay them and buy us some time to bring up fresh German divisions. Then, when they do take it, we can blame it on the Italians. If the Führer asks why no German troops were posted there, I will tell him we had to secure our main supply line back to Tripoli. That is the prize for the moment. Hitler sent you here to stop the British from invading Tripolitania and capturing Tripoli! Lose that and the Italians may soon lose their stomach for this war. After what happened in that naval engagement off Malta, Mussolini is on pins and needles. They lost several battleships!”

“That’s Raeder’s watch,” said Rommel. “I hear Hindenburg is in the Mediterranean now, so he had better be careful. It seems the British have more than these new tanks to bedevil us. What is this business about naval rockets?”

“Another surprise,” Paulus frowned. “I heard the rumors, but was never really briefed on the matter. Raeder is having fits! Thank God Hindenburg made it safely back to Toulon. I also hear Hitler was none too happy about the damage to the ship. In fact, he’s beginning to question this whole strategy in the Mediterranean again, and looking east at Kirov’s Soviet Russia. You were too quick with your boast about taking the Suez Canal in 90 days, Rommel. Be more realistic.”

“You heard about that?”

“Who didn’t? Tell the Führer things like that and he will actually believe you! That was a mistake. The British have proven to be a stubborn and resourceful foe. They will not give up easily, and we may have a long slow grind of it in the months ahead. I know that doesn’t suit you, but you will have to adapt. This war here will be won by the supply columns, on either side.”

“And the tanks,” said Rommel darkly.

“True, but considering logistics, we have two birds in hand now, both Gibraltar and Malta. That dramatically improves our prospects for supplying you here. To bend an old maxim, those two birds are worth more now than that single bird in the bush you were running after — Suez. Take your time! We had no idea the British weapons programs were so advanced — new naval rocketry, new heavy armor that can stand up to an 88. At the moment these new weapons do not seem to be widely deployed, or reaching the front in any great numbers. Doenitz will have to concentrate heavily on the convoy routes south. That is the only way the British can send Wavell any more of these tanks, eh? Time in battle, wear and tear, maintenance issues will all take their toll. So do not be so crestfallen. This is a new rock in the stream for the moment, nothing more. If we can solve the logistics problem, we’ll get you the troops to sweep right over this new British armored brigade. Just you give us the time. Be stubborn now! Fight a good delaying action and get on that defensive line you’ve chosen. Then dig in. Your war of maneuver is over for the moment — understand?”

“Only too well,” Rommel said sullenly. “They called my division the Ghost division in France, Paulus. Well that’s what we have on our hands here now, a ghost of what my Afrika Korps once was. This new British brigade is an apparition from the darkest corner of hell! But I have been to hell and back, Paulus, at Caporetto as a young man of only 25 years.”

During that war Rommel had distinguished himself as a young officer with the Wurttemburger Mountain troops. In difficult and rugged mountain country, he energetically embarked on a campaign that involved stealthy infantry marches, infiltration behind enemy lines and flanking maneuvers that once saw his detachment, no more than a battalion in strength, capture five Italian regiments. He had removed 9000 men from the enemy order of battle, losing only 6 men, with 30 wounded. He had an uncanny ability to see the possibilities in any situation, foresee enemy intentions and dispositions on the ground, and guess their probable reaction to his maneuvers. In most cases he specialized in making attacks from unexpected directions, demoralizing his enemy and unhinging their defense.

“Well,” said Paulus, “we’ve taken good stock of our situation here. I’ll do what I can to persuade Hitler. But you must do what you can to restore order here now. None of us are getting any younger. You must find a way to deal with this.”

There was a glint in Rommel’s eye now, and his hand strayed to the prominent Blue Max on his breast pocket. “Yes,” he said. “Even in hell I found a way to beat the devil.”

Chapter 32

Paulus made good on his promises. The German buildup in North Africa accelerated with the infusion of fresh troops and equipment. The 90th Light Division had not been formed until late June of 1941 in the old history, but was already arriving at Tripoli in February of that year. The other units Paulus had mentioned were also being diverted to staging ports in France and Italy. The 90th Light had been motorized with the trucks provided by the Vichy French, as they had promised. The two other motorized formations were both brigade sized units, Grossdeutschland and Herman Goering. As for the new Panzer Division Paulus had mentioned, it would be 10th Panzer, but the unit had not yet been released. Paulus still had the difficult task of convincing Hitler this campaign still offered the prospect of victory.

The Führer leaned over the map table that day, the red swastika armband contrasting starkly with the drab brown of his coat. His eyes had a distant harried look in them, as if he were seeing things in some far off future, the struggle and conflict of a war that was only now threatening to take a dramatic new turn. He was not happy with the sudden and unexpected reversal in North Africa, and he let Paulus know this in no uncertain terms.

“What was that man doing galloping off into Egypt with only one division like that? The 15th Panzers only reached him a few weeks ago!”

“It seems he believed he had a promise to fulfill, my Führer.”

“You mean his boast about taking the Suez Canal? I knew that was not likely.”

“He might have done exactly that, were it not for this new force that appeared on the southern flank.”

“I have read the reports,” said Hitler. “What do you know of these new British tanks that seem to be impervious to our guns? Have you seen this, Paulus?”

“Not personally. I know only what was reported to me by the officers I interviewed. From all descriptions the British must have been building on the success of their Matilda heavy tank, and they have delivered another model with considerably more power. Troops say it is twice the size of the Matilda, and with a gun on it that is as big as a 25 pound artillery piece. Yet in spite of its size it was very fast — very agile. The troops say it could fire on the move, and hit with amazing accuracy. And nothing they used against it was able to harm it in any way.”

“How many of these new tanks do the British have?”

“This we do not yet know, and our operatives in Cairo have been unable to even confirm the existence of this new unit. How it came to reach its position south of the main battle area is somewhat of a mystery. Halder suggested it must have deployed by rail here, to the railhead north of the Al Farafrah Oasis, and then moved by road to Siwa.”

“That is a long march. Why not simply deploy it in the north, along the coast?”

“We do not know. Perhaps they meant to achieve surprise by this maneuver.”

“It seems they have done that well enough!” Hitler folded his arms, an elbow in each hand in the guarded posture he often took when unhappy.

“Reports indicate that no more than ten or fifteen of these new tanks were actually engaged,” said Paulus, “so this may be a special Schwere Panzer unit that is only recently arrived. Donitz should see that no more arrive, because this new tank could unhinge the balance of power in a mobile battle, just as it did at Bir el Khamsa.”

Hitler frowned at the mention of the name. “Our first major setback,” he scowled. “I can see the British kicking the Italians out of Egypt, but not German troops!”

“Yet we had just two divisions there, my Führer. That is hardly a force capable of driving all the way to Cairo and beyond. Unless Rommel is strongly reinforced, you should expect he can do nothing more than hold on defense.”

“At Benghazi? We will need that port.”

“It will be held, but not by German troops.”

“Then by who? You do not expect the Italians to hold it for very long!”

“That will be up to Mussolini. Yes, Rommel has posted six Italian divisions, largely infantry, in positions all along this line. Granted, these are not reliable troops, but there are 50,000 men there now, and if the British want Benghazi, they will have to commit several divisions to invest it and take the time to plan an offensive. At present they do not have sufficient forces in theater to do this while also building up a strong front opposite Rommel at Mersa Brega.”

The delicate moment had come, for Paulus knew Hitler had ordered Benghazi held, and nothing had been said about any further withdrawal to the west. He folded his arms behind his back, with an almost casual air, as if the dispositions he was describing now were contemplated all along.

“Mersa Brega?” said Hitler. “That far west? What about Agedabia?”

“It is also occupied by the Italian armor and motorized divisions. They will form a kind of trip-wire to delay any move by the British into Tripolitania. Our forces will stage here, just where you ordered Rommel to take up his blocking position before he ran off into Egypt. I have finally talked some sense into the man, and he now sees the wisdom of your earlier orders. He told me personally that he would obey his Führer’s instructions and build a strong defensive position.”

There, Paulus had couched the decision to withdraw to Mersa Brega as something that was in accord with Hitler’s own wishes. The bird was out of the oven, and now he only needed to baste it well.

“You have an uncanny eye for good defensive ground, my Führer. How you managed to determine this from a simple map like this is astounding, but I saw that ground personally when I was there, and it is one of the best defensive positions in North Africa. Rommel has posted both his divisions there, and they will soon be joined by a third, the 90th Light Motorized Division. The delivery of 1200 trucks from the French at Tripoli allowed us to deploy this unit much sooner than we might have otherwise. So now the other troops you have scheduled for this buildup are staging at Toulon and Naples.”

“Other troops? What other troops?” Hitler had been mollified by the flattery Paulus had used, but now he asked a difficult question. He was given to issuing quick orders and then forgetting all about them when he wished. The matter of further reinforcements would be somewhat delicate, so Paulus had to be cautious here, and adroitly changed the topic briefly.

“Rommel and I have discussed how to handle these new British tanks, but it will need more troops and particularly more artillery.”

“Artillery? Why not more tanks?”

“Because they are useless against this new enemy armor. That was very clear from the reports I read on this encounter. We cannot use the new blitzkrieg methods in these circumstances. Instead we must used well tried infantry tactics and good artillery, just as we did in the first war.” Paulus knew that Hitler had fought in that war. The trenches of WWI were the place where he had learned virtually everything he knew about combat.

“You remember it well, do you not?” Paulus continued, taking Hitler back to those days in his mind. “When the first tanks made their appearance they were a fearsome new threat, but we adapted. They were few in number, and could be resisted by stout hearted infantry in good defensive positions — troops who will hold their ground even if overrun by enemy armor — with even better shock troops to back them up when the time came to hit back. The British cannot storm a position like the one you have chosen at Mersa Brega with a few new tanks, and if they try, they will face a sea of infantry that will wash over them like a storm of steel. That is the way we defeat these new tanks of theirs — we will pound them with artillery and then send in the infantry, just as we did before. Even our own blitzkrieg tactics are vulnerable if the enemy is resolute and holds the shoulders of our Schwerpunkt. We must do this now — hold like good armor on those battleships! Yes, I stopped at Toulon to have a look for myself. Hindenburg was hit and damaged, but the armor held, my Führer. In just the same way we will hold the line here and let them waste themselves trying to break through. Then, when they are exhausted, we can release our mobile units in a strong counterattack as before.”

Hitler was silent, brooding, but Paulus could see something smoldering in his dark eyes. He had been a veteran of many hard engagements in the first World War, Ypres, the Somme, Passchendaele and the Marne, earning numerous citations for bravery and the Iron Cross 1st Class. Ironically, he had stumbled into the rifle sights of a British soldier, Private Henry Tandey, who had decided to let what he thought was a wounded and unarmed man go safely back to his lines. Hitler still remembered the incident.

“Then we fight a defensive battle now?”

“For the moment. That was your wish, my Führer. So we will establish a strong position there at Mersa Brega, and build up strength behind it like water behind the dam — troops and supplies — we need both in abundance if Rommel is ever to move east again. It is a thousand kilometers to the Suez Canal.”

“Well he cannot march that distance with foot soldiers!”

“No, my Führer, but good motorized infantry divisions can get him there. We must have mobile artillery to support them, and by all means, air power. This is the real genius behind your plan. I knew it when I saw you had selected the Herman Goering Brigade for service in North Africa.”

Hitler could not recall this, but he listened as Paulus explained. “With those troops there, Rommel’s requests for air support will get top billing. I have looked over the list of units you proposed for the Afrika Korps. They will do the job, my Führer. With the 90th Light, Grossdeutschland Regiment, 1st Mountain Division and the Goering Brigade, we will have the good veteran troops we need to stand against anything the British throw at us. And once we stop them, then we hit back, just like we did when you won that Iron Cross.” Paulus pointed to the medal that Hitler still proudly wore.

Now Hitler recalled that he did, indeed, order the troops that had taken the Rock of Gibraltar to move to Italy for service in North Africa. But that had been when he was flush with the victory Rommel had handed him in overrunning all of Libya. He had been willing to overlook the fact that Rommel had disobeyed his orders to do so, and now the thought of rewarding both disobedience and defeat with the commitment of these elite troops seemed to gall him.

“Not so fast, Paulus,” he said. “I must tell you that I have been having second thoughts about this business in North Africa. Greece has fallen, and we have the Balkans in our possession now. I have troops sitting right on the Turkish frontier at this very moment. One good push and we can take Istanbul and seize the Bosporus.”

“It will do us no good as long as the Soviets still control the Black Sea,” Paulus warned.

“That was why I allowed Raeder to move my battleships into the Mediterranean!” Hitler’s cheeks reddened as he said that, his tone just beneath the level of a shout. “Now look what he has done with them! I am told that Hindenburg and Bismarck will both need repairs, and Raeder is asking me to send the steel to Toulon. Where did the British get these new rocket weapons? Why is it we knew nothing of this development until they were firing them at our ships? Now I am told the British have tanks that are impervious to our finest guns. This is an outrage!”

“I agree, my Führer, and I am certain we will quickly catch up with them. I have also seen the prototypes of our own new rocket designs, and they look very promising.”

“Yes? Well they will look much more promising to me when I hear they are firing at British ships.” Now Hitler leaned over the map table again, a sullen expression on his pallid features.

“I did not get here by chance, Paulus,” he said, a strange tone in his voice. “I was meant to be here. Yes, we will pour everything we have into research on these new weapons. And we will get newer and better tanks as well. The proposals are already on my desk, and we will soon show the British that two can play at this game. But now I must decide about the Russians. What you say is true. As long as the Soviets control the Black Sea, then we will be unable to ship the oil through from Orenburg. So that will now be my number one priority. Understand? We will build up strength here,” he pointed at the borders near Moldavia and the Ukraine.

“I will smash through and take the Crimea — take the bases the Soviet Black Sea fleet must use if they are to impede those oil shipments. Once I have the Bosporus, and the Crimea, then no further occupation of Turkish territory will be necessary. So why should I send more troops to North Africa when I can put them to good use here?” His fist came down hard on the Turkish frontier, but Paulus held his composure, waiting for the storm to abate.

“A wise strategy,” he said. “Unless the British reinforce Turkey, as you know they will as long as they remain a strong and viable force in the Middle East. If we do not support Rommel now, what will they do with all the troops they pull from East Africa? I can read a map as well, my Führer. First they will put down this rebellion in Iraq that poses a threat to their own oil production. Then they will chase the Vichy French out of Syria, and after that, you will see British troops in Turkey and possibly even Iran to open a front against the southern borders of Volkov’s key oil production centers in the Caspian. There is only one way to prevent that — by keeping the British well occupied with a credible threat to Egypt. You must keep the pressure on them and force them to send troops into the Western Desert. Starve Rommel and he will just sit there swatting flies. Feed him and there is a chance we can push east again. This is a man you can rely on, in spite of recent setbacks. And there is another axis of attack that we can open against Egypt as well — Crete.”

“Crete?”

“Of course, my Führer. Again you correctly point out that it must be taken to prevent the British from establishing strong air bases there. Now is the time for that — and this should be done before the Bosporus operation, and certainly before you contemplate any move on the Crimea. That means war with Soviet Russia, and do not think it can be confined to the southern region. The front will extend all the way to the Baltic, and once that begins it will suck in every division we have like a maelstrom. No. First Crete, then we have those bases to threaten Alexandria and the Suez, instead of British bombers over the oil fields of Ploesti. After Crete, we have the option of strongly reinforcing Syria, and stopping the British plan to support Turkey while also posing a direct threat to Palestine.”

“Syria? Palestine? And how do you propose I get the troops there with Hindenburg and Bismarck laid up in the repair yards at Toulon? The Italians took a sound beating and have withdrawn their navy to La Spezia. I cannot send troops to the Levant by sea with the British fleet still at Alexandria. Must I rely on the French Navy?”

“I have spoken to Raeder on this,” said Paulus quickly. “Yes, these new naval rockets the enemy uses have become a real problem, but he has ideas on how to deal with that. The British fleet also took heavy losses in the recent engagement, and we did prove one thing that Goering will certainly agree with — air power trumps naval power, particularly in narrow, confined waters like those of the Aegean and Mediterranean Sea. This is why we took Malta — to prevent the British from using air power to interdict our naval supply lines to North Africa. Now that we have that in hand, we can build up a strong force behind Rommel, and the British will have to answer that. They are scraping up every division they can find — Indians, Australians, South Africans. Yet here we sit with 150 divisions twiddling their thumbs when a decisive move now in the Middle East could secure your right flank for the planned drive against the Crimea. Everything you have planned is correct, my Führer, entirely sound. But to succeed we must make certain the British cannot interfere as I have described, and the time to do that is now, before we open the war against the Soviets.”

“Yes, yes, I have heard all of this from Halder and Keitel. They have been talking to Raeder as well, and now they both believe Crete should be the next operation, but I am not so sure.”

“It is not a question of either or,” said Paulus. “Crete was always a target of your overall strategy.” He continued to present everything as Hitler’s own personal plan. “Goering says he has over 1100 planes in Greece. The British have fewer than fifty on Crete. Now is the time to strike there, while our superiority in air power is overwhelming. You saw how Student’s Fallschirmjagers took Malta. They were able to do so because the British did not have time to build up defenses there. But you know they will on Crete — particularly if we do not keep the pressure on them in North Africa. Attack Crete now and it may fall easily. Then we can contemplate a move against Cyprus and Palestine — by air, my Führer. We can use our overwhelming air power to land troops by air. Once there, the Vichy French in Syria can help supply them. It is either that or the British will take the whole region in time. You know this as well as I do.”

Hitler narrowed his eyes, thinking deeply, remembering those terrible battles against the dogged British army in the last war. Paulus was correct. The British were a rock that would sit stubbornly on his flank if it was not smashed and destroyed… or buried…”

“Very well,” he said slowly, standing upright and nodding his head. “Get Rommel the troops and supplies he needs. Use any forces that seem practical. But get rid of the British, Paulus. Understand? I will give you until Summer. After that….”

He said nothing more.

Chapter 33

The time had finally come for Fedorov to return to the ship, and the KA-40 lifted off in a whirl of blowing dust. He looked out as they gained altitude, seeing the elements of Kinlan’s brigade in company sized positions on the desert below. He knew it would not be long before the Germans were over-flying them as well. Kinlan had only so many air defense missiles in train.

He turned with a heavy heart, seeing Troyak sitting stolidly with the Marines, and realizing that he had neglected them for some time. He gave the Sergeant a long look, apologizing.

“Sergeant Troyak, I want to thank you for your patience and conduct in this situation. I know it was not easy for you when I ordered the men to stand down, but it was necessary to save what could have become a very serious situation.”

“I understand, sir. No problem here.”

“But I know you and the men didn’t like it.”

“No Marine ever wants to put his weapon down in the face of a threat,” said Troyak. “But I could see what was happening. I handled the men, and we had good treatment from the British — most of them.”

“Oh? There was a problem?”

“Just a Sergeant that thought he was too big for his trousers.”

“Right,” said Popski. “It almost came to blows.”

“I see… Well I hope you understand that is the war we’re trying to prevent. Fighting it here won’t help us do that. The British must be seen as our allies now. Understand?”

“I do, sir.”

“Very good. I want to thank you, and all you men as well. I realize it must have been a dull ride for you, and not nearly the mission you were up for.”

Popski spoke up again. “They didn’t get a chance with those Desert Witches,” he said, and Troyak smiled.

Fedorov went on to explain to them what had happened, and what it could mean to the overall course of the war. They could see that both he and Popski had been changed by the incident, and did not really understand how it occurred. Popski had a strange, haunted look in his eye, as if he were now in the company of unborn spirits from the future. He was, and that thought bedeviled him on one level. Fedorov seemed deeply troubled, almost as if he had built a sand castle on the beach, laboring with great intensity, and now had to leave it, knowing the tides would come. They wanted to know how all this had happened, and Fedorov had no real answer for them.

“It’s like so many other things that have happened to us. We don’t really know. Perhaps it was that detonation I told you about from our own ICBM. Yet it’s ironic. It began in our time as an act of violence against a perceived enemy, but it ended up sending those men to us as allies in a time of great need here. Now they share the same fate we’ve been struggling with. God go with them.”

There was a long silence, until Zykov spoke up, asking Fedorov a question that was on the mind of many of the men.

“Will we ever get back, sir — to our own time?”

Fedorov rubbed the weariness from his brow. “I wish I could answer that. I have often wondered what we would find if we tried again. We saw that world once or twice if you recall, and it wasn’t very appealing. Some of you were sent ashore at Halifax. Well the devastation we saw there and other places leads me to believe there may not be very much left of our old world.”

“But we did get back once,” said Zykov. “What about Vladivostok?”

“That was before the war started,” said Fedorov. “We appeared in that window of time between July 28 when we first disappeared, and the beginning of the war in the Pacific. We can never shift to a time where we already exist, so we couldn’t revisit those same days. If we ever did try to shift back, we would have to appear after July 28, but before the date of our return in the Pacific, and that would be a very short lease, because we already have tickets to those seats, if that makes any sense. So the only safe shift would be for us to appear after the date Kirov disappeared while under Karpov’s command. By that time the missiles would be in the air, as we have seen with this attack on the British brigade that sent them here.”

“But sir,” said Chenko, a young corporal. “If that is so, then will we find out things are being blown into the past all over the world? That was not the only missile that must have been fired.”

“I think there was another factor involved in this incident,” said Fedorov. “I’m not quite sure about it yet, but something else caused this breach in time here, something more than the detonation itself.”

Orlov took notice of that, and the fact that Fedorov had asked him to hand over the thing he found in Siberia seemed immediately related to what the Captain was saying now.

“Maybe it was that thing I found,” he said. “The Devil’s Teardrop.”

Zykov laughed at that, but Orlov was serious. “Did you see how it glowed when we saw the sky light up? Hot as hell too! I’d be careful with that thing, Fedorov.”

The crew settled in for the flight to Alexandria, but Zykov had one more question. “Captain, you say we can’t go anywhere that we already exist. Yes? Then what’s going to happen in another few months? It will be July of 1941 soon, crazy as that still sounds. Does that mean the ship can’t appear here like we did the first time?”

“We’re working on that problem, Corporal. I’ve been discussing it with Director Kamenski, but you are correct. I don’t think we can co-locate.”

“Hey Zykov,” said Orlov, lightening the mood. “Too bad, because now you can’t go kiss your own ass come July!”

All the men laughed at that.

That was just one more thing Fedorov had to worry about. A strange object in his pocket, possibly a very dangerous one, but better there than in Orlov’s pocket, he thought. I haven’t time to sort out what will happen in July now. First things first. I’ve got to go through all of this with Wavell. At least I’ll be able to speak with him directly in Russian, but how will I tell him about this? With Kinlan I had the impossible disappearance of Sultan Apache, and much more evidence. With O’Connor we had the shock of his seeing those tanks. But Wavell will be there in Alexandria, a level headed, no-nonsense man, and if I just come out with the truth he would think I’m a madman.

Thankfully, he did not have to fight that battle alone this time. By the time the KA-40 returned he had learned that the fleet was also close at hand, due in port within hours. So he radioed Admiral Volsky to tell him something very important had happened, but he needed to speak with him in person. Volsky told him to vector in on the ship and land there, and the two men had time to discuss the situation with Director Kamenski.

“I have a plan when it comes time to bring Wavell over the line,” said Volsky. “You have done well, Fedorov. It must have been a very difficult situation for you. I can only imagine your surprise, though we have had more than our fair share of that on this journey. A full British mechanized brigade?” Volsky shook his head. “Amazing. How did this happen?”

“I don’t know, sir. But it may have had something to do with this.” He reached in his pocket and produced the Devil’s Teardrop, setting it quietly on the briefing table in the plot room where they were seated. “Orlov found this on that mission to Siberia. They were off course for a time, and came to the Stony Tunguska River. He says they were investigating a sighting on the ground, and encountered a very strange artifact there that seemed to unnerve the whole away team. It was just laying on the tundra.”

Kamenski looked at the object over the top of his glasses, his cinder brows raising as he did so. “Very symmetrical… And you say Orlov said it reacted to the event that sent this British force here? Very interesting. The Stony Tunguska… This is obviously no coincidence. We already know that materials from that region found their way into that control rod that moved this entire ship.”

“What could it be?”

“Possibly a fragment of the object that fell. There is still much debate over what that actually was. One researcher, Menotti Galli, had a theory that tiny particles of the object might be stuck in the resin of the trees on the perimeter of the fall site. They did find stony particles in the trees, but not that size, and this… why, it looks metallic. It’s completely smooth, and note how it reflects the light, almost as if it were polished. Did Orlov do this?

“Not that I’m aware of. He says he just had it in his pocket. He was going to ask what Dobrynin thought about it, and I had that same idea. So I went by engineering right after we landed, and another odd thing happened. There was a problem with the reactors.”

This got Volsky’s attention. “What kind of problem, he asked?”

“It happened just as I arrived — some kind of flux event, and Dobrynin was not happy, so I left him to his work.”

“Very curious,” said Volsky. He reached for the intercom panel on the briefing table and punched up engineering.

“Chief Dobrynin, please come to the briefing room. This is the Admiral.” He looked at Fedorov. “We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

“You suspect something?” said Kamenski.

“We have had these flux events with the reactors before,” Volsky explained. “They always seemed to be associated with the time displacements. In fact, that was one of the clues that led us to realize our own reactors were involved in the process. Well… The Chief has a lot of ladders to climb. Let us turn to other matters for a moment. You say that O’Connor has been briefed, and this new British General has accepted his situation. Good enough. When we got the news of Rommel’s retreat, the Admirals were overjoyed. Now we know why! This is the force on land we needed, Fedorov. It is a most significant turn of events.”

“And a very dangerous one,” said Fedorov. “It was an agonizing decision, but I could see no other way. Kinlan had to know everything, and O’Connor as well. The British leadership here cannot be left in the dark.”

“Agreed,” said Volsky. ‘This is why we decided Admiral Tovey had to be let in on our little secret. Well, it may comfort you to know that we have also briefed Admiral Cunningham. So I will enlist their support concerning the matter of Wavell.”

Now he told Fedorov of the strange appearance of the Argos Fire, and Kamenski listened quietly, a light kindling in his eye as Volsky related the details of the meeting with Fairchild and MacRae, and the battles they fought with the Axis fleets. “They did not like our missiles,” he finished, but I will say this as well — I do not like their air power. Eventually we will run out of SAMs, and after that the situation looks very different for us. They can continue to build their planes, but we cannot build more missiles.”

“Kinlan will soon face this same situation,” said Fedorov. “Our power is waning, but we are still strong enough to make a difference. We stopped Rommel’s advance into Egypt, and you have seriously hurt the enemy fleets.”

“True, but have a look at that battleship they towed in. The British lost their Queen Elizabeth, and this one, Malaya, was badly damaged. Battered. I doubt if it will ever be serviceable again. Yes, we hurt the enemy far worse. The Italians lost at least three battleships — our Vodopad torpedoes performed very well this time — and the French lost the Strausbourg. Yet all things considered, and after tallying the roster of missing souls at sea again, the balance of power has not really changed. The two German ships were damaged, but I think they will sail again. So the Italians still have battleships, and the French have the Normandie and Dunkerque—not to mention the ships they still have at Casablanca. Theoretically they could still amass a fleet that could overpower anything Tovey has left here. Without us he has only Warspite with his own ship, and those two carriers. So something tells me we may have to fight another major engagement soon. Yet we have bought the British time, and that counts for something.”

“What about Gromyko, sir?”

“He’s out there,” Volsky pointed. “I have him on a defensive patrol to keep watch over the Warspite until it reaches port safely. He will join us soon.”

Then we still have three kings here in the Mediterranean,” said Fedorov, “Kirov, Kazan, and this Argos Fire.”

“Three kings with dwindling missile magazines,” said Volsky. “We took inventory after the battle. Not counting the close in Kashtan system, we have 76 medium and long range SAMs left and 28 ship killers. Throw in the last four Vodopad torpedoes and that makes 32. Argos Fire has 106 SAMs left, but only 10 ship killers. As for Kazan, Gromyko said he used a salvo of eight missiles, and he put two torpedoes into the Strausbourg later. That leaves him ten more Onyx missiles and his remaining torpedo inventory, perhaps 30 fish. Given its stealth, his boat is perhaps the most powerful in the world now, but after those missiles and torpedoes are gone, he’s no more threatening than a ride at an amusement park. On paper it sounds like a lot of firepower, perhaps it is more than enough to win the next battle we find ourselves in. But between the three of us 115 SAMs and 21 ship killers and torpedoes were used in this recent engagement. Yes, we have another good fight or two left in the magazines, but after that the numbers will get serious.”

“Then we have to make our difference now,” said Fedorov. “We are as strong now as we will ever be again.”

“Yes, just as I am as old now as I have ever been, and younger than I’ll ever be again!” Volsky smiled. “I am not so much worried about our ability to control the sea against their navy,” he said. “It is their air force that plagues me. The strength of their air power was underestimated. We should have had you along to clue us in, Fedorov. They hit us with three waves, and thankfully, the third wave failed to find us in the storm.”

“Understood, sir. And as for Kazan. I think Gromyko’s boat might be able to use torpedoes from this era. The engineers could modify the torpedo tubes.”

“Possibly…. This was a very long war, as you well know.” At that moment Chief Dobrynin arrived, just a little breathless from his five deck climb. He saluted, greeting the men Volsky gestured for him to take a seat.

“You wanted to see me, Admiral?”

“Have we had any reactor problems today, Chief?”

“Now that you mention it, there was one small glitch. You were there, Fedorov. Sorry to be so short with you, Captain, but when that flux alarm goes off it really gets my attention. It turned out to be a small event. The system settled down just after you left.”

“I see,” said Volsky. “Then the reactors are fine?”

“There was one other incident, just before the KA-40 mission was launched. It was the same thing, a flux alarm that got me all worked up, but before I could determine what was wrong, things settled down again.”

“Could this have anything to do with those control rods?”

“They aren’t in the system now, sir. I’ve retracted both to radiation safe containers, and I’m using an old spare in the number 25 spot now. Thankfully it doesn’t send us on a marathon through time when I perform routine maintenance.”

“Chief… Orlov found something that we’d like you to take a look at.” The Admiral gestured to the Devil’s Teardrop, still sitting on the briefing table near Kamenski. Dobrynin had noticed it, wondering what it was, but now he gave it a closer examination.

“Very strange,” he said. “It’s almost glassy smooth, and very reflective. Looks like it was machined, and then deformed to this shape by high temperatures. Yet there’s no heat damage visible. You say Orlov found this?”

“In Siberia,” said Fedorov. “Along the Stony Tunguska.”

“Why is it that name raises my hackles?”

“Orlov says it acts funny,” Fedorov explained. “It changes temperatures. In fact, it got very hot — too hot to touch — right when that incident happened in the desert, Admiral.”

Kamenski had been listening to everything, sometimes with his eyes closed, as if he needed a good long nap. The mention of Tunguska perked him up again, and now he spoke up.

“We know that materials from that region have produced strange effects, temporal effects. Is there any way you can examine this in the lab, Mister Dobrynin? Could you determine its makeup?”

“I’d be happy to have a look, sir.”

“Good, please do, because I think we may be in for quite a little surprise!”