Ironfall

Map

Chapter 16

The night of March 30th Rommel ordered Lübbe of 2nd Panzer to build a Kampfgruppe and send it on a wide envelopment of Damascus. They would make their way through the dry lakebed, battling the soft ground and the darkness, but for Rommel, this was par for the course. He had made these night maneuvers over the shifting sands of Libya for the last two years, and he knew how to read the ground, and direct his columns along the best routes.

Air reconnaissance showed that the free French Division had been deployed just east of the city in a defensive arc, but appeared to be pulling back, even as the Provisional Brigade and British Paras fell back on the city. So Rommel was intent on getting south and then west to enfilade their lines.

General Lübbe assembled a Kampfgruppe consisting of the 304th Panzergrenadier Regiment, one battalion of his Panzers and supporting elements from the Recon Battalion and pioneers. The rest of his division would have to remain engaged against the growing British pressure on the long line of communications back to Palmyra. 1st Battalion of 304th Panzergrenadiers were the first to approach the city, catching British airborne troops fresh off the trains from Haifa at the main railway.

The British were shocked to find German troops this far behind the main front, but Brigadier Down of the 2nd Para Brigade was quick to react. The rail depot, and the main airport behind it, were both vitally important to the defense of the city, and so he committed his entire brigade to drive the Germans back. It would mean his troops would not be able to immediately reinforce the city, where the Wiking SS Panzer Division was forming up to launch Rommel’s main attack.

The Germans were approaching the workshops and locomotive hangars on the eastern fringe of the rail yard when they began to receive fire. A Piat popped off and struck one of the leading halftracks, the round landing just short as it exploded in the dry earth. Then the Paras began firing their 3 inch mortars.

Brigadier Downs set up his HQ post at the Police post adjacent to the oiling station for the trains. There were a lot of valuable facilities to protect, a military barracks where he posted his company of Royal Engineers, an armaments shop, and an important flour mill. 6th Para Battalion held the rail station workshops, with 4th and 5th Battalions deploying to the north to screen the rail yard and occupy the Al Aswad district, the southernmost tail of the city as it reached down to the rail yards. His brigade was fairly well concentrated, on a front of 1500 meters, so that single German battalion was not going to push through on his watch.

Damascus was not the wide concentric sprawl of a city in 1943 that it is today. The main city was still concentrated around old Damascus, which was bisected by the Barada River Canal. It was here that most of the major facilities lay, Parliament, Public Works and government buildings. Just outside the city on its western edge, and hugging the Barada Canal, was the University, Public Gardens and Presidential Compound very near the grounds that would become the first International Expo pavilions in 1954. That area, behind the university, was now the grounds of a military encampment, with the principle ammo dumps and supply stores for the region, garrisoned by three French Marche Battalions.

From the Barada Canal, the city then reached northwest towards the high mountainous terrain of Jebel Qasioun, and washed against its stony flanks, running northeast in a series of settlements that slowly thinned and diminished. Then another segment of the city descended roughly due south from the main city, reaching to Brigadier Downs position at the Rail Yards.

Brigadier Lathbury’s 1st Para was in the sprawling fields and orchards just east of that long tail—date farms, almond orchards and olive groves. There was a gap of about a kilometer between his brigade and that of Downs, but Number 2 Commando had just landed at the main airfield, and its five companies were already marching to fill that hole. They were led by a most colorful figure, one Lieutenant Colonel John Malcolm Thorpe Fleming "Jack" Churchill.

No direct relation to the Prime Minister, “Fighting Jack Churchill” as he was called was nonetheless out to make himself worthy of the name. He was a gritty, hard-nosed brawler, given to going into battle with a longbow and a Scottish Highlander’s Cleybeg, which was a basket hilted broadsword, always at his side. It was proper dress code for any officer, he would exclaim, and to complete the picture, he owned and often used a good set of Scottish Bagpipes.

He was playing them that morning, a scurl to wake the dead and announce the coming of “Mad Jack” and his minions of doom. Where stealth was often stock in trade for the Commandos, Mad Jack forsook it that day. He wanted the Germans to hear him coming, and think twice about their designs on this city. It would not be taken, he boldly pronounced. “Not while I can wield my Cleybeg with a good right hand.”

This was the British defense in the south, largely screening and holding the long “Cat’s Tail” as the soldiers came to call that segment of the city. The cat itself, “Old Damascus,” was soon to be confronting a rather dangerous wolf. Brigadier Downs would be faced with two more battalions from KG Krefeld of the 2nd Panzer to even the odds, and they were coming with tanks. On their right, following the road that led towards Old Damascus, was the Nordland Regiment of the Wiking Division. Gille had arrayed all three regiments abreast, Nordland in the south, Germania in the center, and Westland in the north.

The four battalions of Brigadier Lyne’s Provisional Brigade were covering most of the main city, deployed along its eastern edge. He and his men had finally redeemed themselves by putting up a very stalwart defense earlier at Ad Dumayr. Behind them was the Free French Division, mostly around the city center and Presidential Compound. They had not yet been built up to a real fighting division, being mostly garrison troops formed into “battalions” that might have the fighting power of a British company at that time.

The best of them was the French Foreign Legion, about 18 squads occupying the stout buildings of the prison, right in the heart of the city. They found the accommodation much to their liking, for many had been recruited from wards and jails all over Europe and the Middle East.

Down’s mortar fire convinced that lead battalion of KG Krefeld to fall back and wait for the rest of its regiment. The real battle would start farther north as the Germania Regiment sought to clear and occupy the outlying settlement of Al Jobar. According to Gille’s map, the Russian embassy was just behind that settlement, right on the road, and he could imagine the mad dash being made there as he sent his men in, the Russians scrambling to burn anything of potential value to their enemy and flee to the city proper.

Just north of the Barada River as it flowed in a tangled web of small tributaries east of Damascus, the town of Al Jobar was being held by 2nd Highland Light of Lyne’s Provisional Brigade. SS Obersturmführer Manfred Schönfelder was leading in the Germania Regiment, and he hit the town with a single battalion, supported by a company of the Sturmgeschutz Battalion. He was aiming right for that Russian Embassy.

B Company of the Highlanders could not hold, falling back under cover fire to the embassy, where they saw the last of the staff there speeding away west into the city. The position at Al Jobar had only been meant as a tripwire defense. The Highlanders preferred to hold at the edge of the city proper, where the Barada River would screen their right flank. 44th Recon was on their left, and they also fell back to the edge of the main city, as the overture of this battle began to play. A few rounds of French 105’s greeted the Germans as they pushed into Al Jobar, arcing over the heads of the British lines and bucking up their morale when they saw them fall among the Germans.

That was one thing Lyne sorely needed—artillery. His provisional Brigade had not brought any of its heavy weapons when it abandoned Crete. As such, he was a “Light Brigade” in every sense of the word, with nothing more formidable than a 3-inch mortar to throw at the Germans. The French had twelve 105’s, and the two Para Brigades had only had brought eight 25 pounders, which was not much for indirect fire support.

The German attack geared up in the morning on the main road to Old Damascus. They took the Russian Embassy, and Germania Regiment wanted to drive right up that main, also fanning out to the north to flank that district. At the same time, Westland put in a hard concentrated attack in the north near the rugged mountains, coming up on the road that would later be called Highway M5 to Homs. That was defended by 4th Royal Sussex Battalion, a segment of the town called El Charkasia. They gave a little ground, displacing several city blocks, but reformed their line, determined to hold.

Most of the weight of the attack was with Germania, where Gille had also concentrated the bulk of all his division assets. He put in the Sturm Battalion, three Companies, and that was augmented by the single company of Panzers he had forward, 12 roaring Lions, with the 88mm gun. Schönfelder had cleared Al Jobar, and was continuing to push on the outskirts of Old Damascus. He was testing the line everywhere, but found a fairly solid front, with a few French units filling in the holes in Lyne’s line. So he opted for attrition, massing all his armored vehicles on the road from Ad Dumayr, and sending them in to support the Panzergrenadiers. Gille radioed to tell Schönfelder he could have the full weight of the Division Artillery.

“I want to make a quick thrust into the city center, so push hard. I’m putting all the artillery at your beck and call. Use it.”

Schönfelder would be happy to oblige. That afternoon he threw his regiment at the line again, and the thunder of those guns punctuated his attack. Lyne’s center was getting hammered, and it was all falling on the Highland Light.

South of Gille’s main attack, below the rump of the main city, Colonel John Frost sat with a bemused look on his face, chewing on a piece of straw he had pulled out of a convenient bail set out for farm animals. Lathbury had posted him to the Date Farm east of the Cat Tail, but he had to give that up and move back to the Almond Orchard when KG Krefeld moved past his flank to the south enroute to the rail yards. His position had been probed early that morning by a battalion from the Nordland Regiment, but no real attack developed.

All that morning and into the afternoon, he could hear the sounds of battle, very heavily to the north near the old city, and also to his south at the end of the Cat Tail. He had his battalion well positioned in the orchards, the men using their spades to dig field positions, b ut no attack ever came his way. What were the Germans up to?

It was just common battlefield sense, really. Everything the Germans wanted was either south near that rail yard, or along the main road to the old city, so that was where they were attacking. Around 4:00 in the afternoon, he got another message from Lathbury—move your battalion back another 500 meters to link up with the flank of Number 2 Commando in the Cat’s Tail.

That was all it said.

There were olive groves behind him, and so he would pass the word to his companies to get ready to move. They had found the date farm offered a nice sweet addition to their morning breakfast, and the almonds were good on the side for lunch with tea. Now he would get to sample the olives for dinner.

Darkness fell, and the sounds of the fighting subsided a good deal. Even Vikings needed rest, and they had come a long way from Palmyra. Around Midnight, there came a sudden outburst of 20mm AA guns. The mobile flak company had maneuvered close to the northern tip of the 2nd Sussex Battalion, which was holding all the ground south of the Barada River. They had been posted further east at the edge of the city, but moved back with Frost and Fitch to keep their lines even with those of the beleaguered Highland Light Battalion north of the River. A Company of the 2nd Royal Sussex, closest to the river, suddenly had its positions peppered with that loud AA fire.

The men grabbed their helmets and rifles, squinting into the dark, expecting a night attack to emerge from the buildings to the east at any time, but nothing came. They were getting snookered. That flak unit had just been ordered to make noise, so it would screen a little operation the Germans had underway a few hundred meters to the north on the river. Gille sent in his pontoon bridging engineers, and they quickly threw down a small bridge suitable for infantry. While A Company was hunkering down, fingers tight on the rifles and waiting for that attack, the German infantry of 9th and 10th Germania companies, and the dismounted motorcycle infantry, all crossed that little bridge. They were soon 200 meters behind A Company, flanking the entire line of 2nd Royal Sussex.

‘We’ve been buggered!” called a Sergeant when he discovered what was happening. “Jerry has snuck right over the bloody river!”

Then they heard the whoosh of nebelwerfers, and the attack that company had been waiting for finally came, only from three sides now, east, north, and west, behind their positions. The men scrambled to move a Vickers, smashing out windows in the building they occupied to get it set up to try and cover their rear. Thankfully, the French had troops from their 13th Demi Brigade, and they came up from the vicinity of the prison to the west to lend a hand. 2nd Royal Sussex was able to hold its positions, but they had just learned a lesson from their crafty enemy that would keep them sleepless the rest of the night.

The only other action before dawn was in the neck of the city that extended up towards the mountains, There, Germania’s 1st Battalion had kept fighting, eventually overrunning a company of 1st Argyll & Sutherland, and flanking the Parliament building. That attack had been meant to try and flank resistance in Old Damascus on the main road north of the river, and it succeeded in doing exactly that. The two tattered platoons left in D Company of 1st Argyll & Sutherland Battalion huddled in the public works building and the heavy concrete walled city health building, their only company being French troops from the 11th Marche that had been sent up to guard the adjacent Parliament building. The road all these buildings were on led directly to the Presidential Compound, and come morning on the 31st of March, the Germans would shift the full weight of Germania’s attack in that direction.

General Gille had been studying the maps, getting position updates hourly, and he sensed that he had the makings of a breakthrough underway. So he did what any good commander would have done. He fed more wood into that fire. It would come from Westland Regiment in the north, which he ordered to suspend its attack against the 4th Royal Sussex Battalion and then send two of its battalions south towards the Parliament district. The road he was on was called Muhamad Ali El Abed, running from the new central bank on the outskirts of the main city, and straight past Parliament to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and Presidential residence. If he could get there, he would cut off everything the British had on his left north of the river and canal, which was most of 44th Recon and the 2nd Highland Light Battalion that had taken the brunt of his attack the previous day.

Now the Stugs pulled out, shifting north to use that new avenue of approach, and the Germans were dancing like the fighter who would one day take the same name of that street—dancing into the center of the ring. Gille had attacked on a broad front, but now he wanted to concentrate as much force as possible on that breakthrough zone, all made possible when that single company had been overrun.

The German Stugs blasted away at the public works building, driving out the troops that had taken refuge there, and they would soon have the Parliament building nearly surrounded. The breakthrough was cutting right across the neck of the city extending north, where only a thin screen of French Gendarme patrols protected the embassy district, where nine countries had legations all within a 1 kilometer area on the back of that neck Gille was choking. There was a fire starting close to where the initial breakthrough had been made, and the growl and fire of those Stugs rattled the morning.

Brigadier Lyne was in a hotel on the main city canal when he saw the black smoke from that fire, and got the reports of what had happened. The Germans were breaking through, and if they went much farther, they would overrun the Presidential Compound, gardens and push all the way to the big ammo dumps. He rang up General Larminat at his Army HQ building.

“They’re getting through our lines,” he exclaimed. “Where are your men?”

“Don’t worry,” said Larminat. “I have troops guarding the Presidential Compound and residence.”

“Well there’s nothing to stop them from going right into the Embassy District. I’ll have to order all my men up north to fall back to the rail line. Is there anything you can send?”

Larminat had put his best men at the city prison, thinking to make a fortress of that place. It was the very place the Vichy Colonials had imprisoned him when he refused to capitulate in 1940. So he ordered the Foreign Legionnaires to move to the public works building with all speed, and then sent word to order the entire 13th Demi Brigade there as well. The icing on his cake was to tell his artillery to train all their guns on that breakthrough zone.

Lyne could not wait for them, rushing to the scene and crouching low with the men of 1st Argyll & Sutherland Battalion. Frustrated, to see his men hunkered down, he stood up, pulling out his pistol. “Damn their eyes! Here they come, but they don’t know who they’re dealing with. We’re the Thin Red Line!” Pride was always a way to stiffen the backbone of the men, and they were up and fighting again, shouting insults at the Germans as they came.

In the south, KG Krefeld continued its strong attack into the Al Aswad District, the tanks being difficult for the lightly armed Paras of Down’s brigade. Another breakthrough seemed imminent there, but another hero emerged to save the day. Mad Jack Churchill was just north of that area, and he drew out that broadsword, letting it catch a glint of afternoon sun.

“Come on lads!” he shouted. “Let’s have at them!”

He led the way, which was over ground used as a city cemetery, that sword in one hand and a submachinegun in the other, looking like a ghost rising up from the past, and woe betide any grenadier that dared block his path. The issue at Damascus was on as thin a razor’s edge as that sword he had in hand, and the next hours might end this battle, one way or the other….

Chapter 17

The Germans would not stop for darkness or night. General Gille was intent on getting a quick decision, and he continued to push his attack across the neck of the city, primarily focused on two objectives, the Parliament building and Presidential residence on the north edge of that compound. The diversionary attack against Down’s Paras in the Al Aswad District on the Cat’s Tail would also continue, where the Germans were leaving a path of destruction in their wake as they burned their way from one building to the next.

All these attacks were successful. The Parliament building fell a little after midnight, and German troops stormed the President’s residence at 02:00. Then that battle spilled over into the Indian Embassy, which was occupied a half hour later. This attack cut off all of the 44th Recon Battalion and the stalwart 2nd Highland Light, which had been holding the line in Old Damascus. The Germans had reached the public gardens north of the canal near the university, effectively cutting the Provisional Brigade into two segments.

4th Royal Sussex was still in the northern part of the city, with the 1st Argyll & Sutherland, and Lyne had moved to the 2nd Highland Lt and 2nd Royal Sussex Battalions in the central city districts, on either side of the Barada River. Alexander telephoned Lyne direct to the hotel where he had set up his headquarters there.

‘What is your situation?” he asked grimly, and Lyne explained what had happened over two days of hard fighting.

“We’re holding out,” he finished. “But they’re using tanks and APCs in strong direct fire support, and once they get enough lined up on a strongpoint, they simply blast it to hell.”

“Well I’m sending you help,” said Alexander. “25th Armored Brigade is on the trains near Homs now, and heading south—two battalions of Churchills and one battalion of the 7th Motor Brigade. It’s all I can spare.”

“I’d be happy to get even as much as a service troop company, but those tanks sound marvelous. We’ll fight to keep the rail lines clear. I expect they’ll be coming thought Barada Gorge?”

“That’s the most direct route. There’s an auxiliary rail depot west of the city under Presidential administration. We’ll use that if you can hold the Germans at bay.”

Lyne’s next problem was what to do about his situation in Old Damascus. There was no point holding that sector any longer, and so he gave orders that his troops there should use the small foot bridges and reestablish their lines south of the canal. The French 13th Demi Brigade pulled out as well, and by 04:00, the old city center was abandoned.

The Germans quickly occupied the place, the sound of their boots echoing off the old stucco and brick walls as squads of troops swept through the district. Lyne had to give up a lot of ground, but now his line had the benefit of the canal, and could be anchored on the heavy concrete prison just south of the water barrier. He left the hotel before dawn, setting up half a kilometer to the south in the main city fire department building, which had good communications.

Just before sunrise on April 1st, the Germans were still fighting to secure the rest of the Presidential Compound, but they had reached the western edge of the city, and were now only 200 meters from the big ammo dump. The sound of aircraft overhead craned a few necks upwards, and set off some German 20mm AA fire, but it was not tactical support.

It was transports, all landing at the main airstrip under cover of darkness, and with the whole five companies of Lovat’s Number 4 Commando flown in from Haifa. Lovat walked calmly into the hangar, and put in a call to see where his men were needed. When Brigadier Lyne learned of their arrival, he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Get to the Ammo depot, very near the military barracks. Jerry is right on top of it, and I don’t think the French can hold them off much longer.” So the Commandos fell in and marched up through the outlying town of Kafer Sousse, expecting to reach the barracks by sunrise. Lovat eventually found General Larminat at his HQ, his men arriving in the nick of time to take up positions at the Ammo Depot. The French had been hastily carting off crates of ammo to the Custom Sheds and warehouses further south, for they could not hold the depot with all that explosive material about. The arrival of those five companies of Number 4 Commando made all the difference. By mid-day, April Fool’s day, Gille called Rommel to inform him of the situation.

“We’ve cleared the old city and most of the government buildings. I’m afraid there isn’t much left of them now. But I had to focus most of my strength on that sector, so we haven’t been able to take the main rail yard in the south, or reach the airfield. They flew in another battalion last night.”

“But you have the city center?”

“Most everything above the main canal is ours, except for the districts up near the Jebel. That means Barada Gorge is still open, and I can’t get anything back there to put a cork in the bottle. Can you send me anything more of 2nd Panzer?”

“Not likely,” said Rommel. “I thought this thrust at Damascus would break their nerve and send them retreating south from Homs, but they’ve held on. They broke off their offensive at T4, but a lot of those troops have pulled out to deploy along our flank from Palmyra to Damascus. Yet we are masters of the old city, so run up our flag over parliament and get me a photo for the Führer. This was one promise I needed to keep, and I am going to tell him we have Damascus.”

“This fight isn’t over,” said Gille. “The city is likely to remain contested for days. I don’t think I can clear them all out with just my division.”

“Not necessary,” said Rommel “Eisenfall was a success. I’m counting my chickens, even if they haven’t all hatched. Hitler can use a little the good news, eh? Guderian has Baghdad. Now we’re in Damascus!”

“But where do we go from here?” asked Gille.

There was a moment of silence from Rommel. “A good question,” he said at last. “Carry on Gille. You did not let me down.”

Gille looked at the phone receiver when the line went dead. Rommel had not answered his question, and that would be hanging in the air now, waiting for some resolution. They had come all this way, some 225 kilometers, a little more than half way to Jerusalem, but the British refused to budge. They would not give up Lebanon or Palestine without being pushed out, mile by mile, and that was going to be the deciding factor in this battle—sheer intransigence.

Before dusk, Lyne ordered his engineers to blow every bridge over the canal near the public gardens, and he concentrated the 44th Recon battalion at the university. Word came that 25th Armored Brigade would be through Barada Gorge by dusk. The British had hung on by the skin of their teeth, and Lyne and his Provisional Brigade would be commended. He was “Mentioned in Dispatches,” and given a promotion to Major General acquitting himself completely after the loss of his brigade earlier in the fighting. In the old history, he would go on to command the 59th Infantry Division, and then take over the 50th Northumbrian Division at a most important time and place—Normandy, in June of 1944.

Boseville’s tanks, the 25th Armored Brigade, would reach the reserve rail yard and move into the upper city through the embassy district, massing to prepare for an attack back across the upper neck of the city, which would cut off the German push near the Ammo Dump. Gille had to send word to KG Krefeld in the south that he now needed all his panzers, and so the infantry there fell back on defense. That was going to end the German assault towards the airfield, and they detached the Panzer Battalion, which joined the Wiking Recon battalion to form a hard hitting mobile group.

The result would soon become a stalemate. Gille had the center of the board, bit could not find checkmate at Damascus, nor could he push any of his pawns to the 8th rank. So he, like Rommel, would accept the situation as a pyrrhic victory. Rommel would get his soon to be famous photograph of the Nazi flag flying over the ruin of the Parliament building in Old Damascus. Hitler would get his bragging rights, but little more. The road to Damascus was a road to nowhere….

Where would Rommel go from here? That was the question of the hour. Eisenfall had theoretically reached its principle objective at Damascus. Just as Guderian had taken Baghdad. But the intractable British simply refused to see their situation as one of an army in retreat, and least of all, an army that had been defeated. It was just another battle, another temporary setback they were pledging to redress in good time. And as far as Lyne was concerned at Damascus, Rommel wasn’t going anywhere, save over his dead body.

The Desert Fox had outfoxed Alexander with his sudden flank attack, but found the ‘Law of Overstretch’ would now constrain any further moves south. It was another 160 Kilometers to Amman in Jordan on that flank, and 250 to Jerusalem. Gille’s Wiking Division did not have the strength to fully reduce Damascus, let alone those other distant objectives.

Rommel came down himself to see Gille and evaluate his prospects on the night of April 1st, April Fool’s Day. As he stared out into the marshlands southeast of the city, he thought he could see the shimmering glow there that was known as Ignis Fatuus in the old Latin, “Foolish fire,” the night mirage that tempted wayward travelers on. It was called many things in different cultures. The British called the phenomenon “Pixy Light,” the work of Fairies, but it was nothing more than luminescent marsh gas that night.

Yet seeing it, Rommel thought of the legend of the will-o’-the-wisp, and he now knew that Cairo, that other foolish fire that had always haunted his dreams, was still nearly 700 kilometers away, over unfought desert sands, ragged hills, and barren lava beds the old fox would never tread upon.

So I won’t get to Egypt on this road either, he knew. The only question now was whether the Führer would realize this any time soon. Rommel knew that his entire position in Syria was now nothing more than a flank guard for Guderian in Iraq. He kicked the British out of Baghdad weeks ago, consolidated for ten to 12 days, and then pushed south. But Guderian had a long way to go as well. The British are fighting a very stubborn delaying action there, and I know for a fact that an army in retreat can always outpace one on the advance by simply throwing out small blocking forces in the rear guard.

It is 500 kilometers from Baghdad to Basra and Abadan. That is another will-o’-the-wisp fantasy in the Führer’s mind. Guderian has the force to get there, but even if he does, what then? The British will be waiting there in a good strong defensive line, and Guderian will look over his shoulder and realize his ammunition must now come 1000 kilometers from the Turkish frontier, and that is after it has already traveled 1500 kilometers through Turkey to Istanbul. A supply line 2500 kilometers long! That is the same distance as the road from Tunis all the way to Cairo and the Suez Canal in North Africa.

To think that I could reach Cairo with three mobile divisions was simply foolish. To think Hitler could do anything with the oil in Abadan, even if Guderian could take the place, was also foolish. We are both out in the deserts to simply annoy the British… And how long will it be before things heat up again on the Ostfront, and Hitler comes calling for his Wikings and Brandenburgers?

Manstein is also out chasing the shimmering fire of the Führer’s dreams. He had to fight like a tiger last winter to keep Zhukov at bay along the Don sector. Has he forgotten that? What in the world is Manstein doing in the Caucasus now? He cleared out the Kuban, and then went right on through Volkov’s troops to get after Maykop. Unfortunately, for this he gets war with the Orenburg Federation. The Führer’s choices boggle the mind at times. Yes, they will be a real headache for Ivan Volkov, and a most unexpected gift for Sergei Kirov.

The man with that headache was pacing, the heat of his anger and distress becoming a visible sheen of sweat on his brow. Things had gone from bad to worse. Volkov had been moving unit after unit into the Caucasus to build up the mass he knew he would need to have any chance of stopping the Germans. His 3rd Kazakh Army was all but destroyed, but 3rd Regular Army, and troops from the 7th and 5th Armies, had managed to fall back and deploy in a wide arc centered on Mineralne Vody and Pyatigorsk. The left was anchored on the mountain country to the south, and the right on the thickening course of the Kuma River as it wound its way towards the Caspian Sea. As that line firmed up, it was beginning to look like it would finally hold, and well west of the Terek. But the Germans had other ideas.

The German infantry of 11th and 17th Armies pressed doggedly behind the retreating enemy, slowly taking up portions of the line that had been held by the German Panzer Divisions. Then, almost overnight, all those mobile formations swung rapidly north and east, along the line of the Kuma River. There were few crossing points there, with poor wooden bridges, but the Germans had several bridging regiments, and pioneers organic to their Panzer Divisions that could also facilitate a river crossing. The Kuma would be no more of an obstacle than any of the other rivers they had crossed to come to this place, much to Volkov’s chagrin.

When they did cross, the following day near Budennovosk, they did so with swift, well-practiced precision. The Kazakh troops had been relying on the river itself to hold the greatest portion of that line, but now the Grossdeutschland Division lead the way, with 17th and 18th Panzers to either side, and the 29th Motorized in reserve. By the 18th of April they had created a bridgehead 30 kilometers deep, and Volkov’s generals were frantically detaching every mobile of mechanized unit they had from the armies on the front and sending them east to try and stop that advance.

This would become a swirling battle between both mechanized forces on the arid steppes of the Terek District, all the land between the Kuma in the north, and the Terek River to the south. Volkov would now learn just how good the German Panzer Divisions were, and how bad his own mobile formations were by comparison. Volkov’s few tank brigades were still using old BT-7, OT-7 and T-60 tanks for the most part, though he had designed and built one new modern medium tank, which he called the T-44A, to give it a notch up on the Soviet T-34. It was roomier, had much better off road performance, better 120mm frontal armor and a copy of the highly successful Russian 85mm main gun. It would have been a tank that might match the German VK-75 Lions, but he had only one small problem—there were just 24 of his new medium tanks on the entire front.

The Germans had continued with Manstein’s strategy of the indirect approach. By constantly moving east over the broad empty steppe country, they outflanked any defensive line that Volkov’s Generals struggled to build in the south. Now that strategy had led to a most difficult situation for the Armies of Orenburg. The German 3rd Panzergrenadier Division had followed the long Manych Canal south and east from Divnoye, and then threw up a pontoon bridge. This was the report Volkov received on the 15th of April, as the battle for the main bridgehead over the Kuma was heating up. General Karimov, a heavy set grey bull of a man, with a barrel chest and thick neck, was ordered to report on the situation. He was commanding the entire Caucasus Front, and now it was his turn to be the bringer of the bad news.

Chapter 18

“The Germans have a light mobile division over the Manych Canal,” said Karimov, “and it has already cut the rail line to Astrakhan in two places.”

“What? That rail line is vital! Without it we have to rely on seaborne shipments to Makhachkala and Baku.”

“That is the case, but we have virtually nothing in reserve to defend that area. I sent both security regiments from Astrakhan, the last two in the city. Now we have finally moved two 5th Army divisions north to help out, but that sector remains a critical vulnerability in our entire defense. To hold it adequately, I will need to pull more infantry out of the Terek River line, most likely from 5th Army, and the front near Mozdok is already thinned out with the need to shift forces to contain the German Kuma Bridgehead.”

“Are we holding there?” Volkov was still pacing.

“Barely holding. We’ve thrown all the mechanized brigades from every field army into that fight, but it is like feeding wood into a sawmill. Mister General Secretary, a decision will have to be made as to where we now attempt to establish the main line of our defense. Unfortunately, we have two widely spaced objectives to defend. In the South, Groznyy and Baku are both well established strategic supply sites for our oil production. But in the north, we have Astrakhan, and the new developments at the Tengiz and Kashagan fields. It may be that we will soon have to make a difficult choice.”

Volkov stopped in his tracks, giving him a hard look. “You mean chose between the north or south? We cannot defend both?”

“Well, if the German Army would be kind enough to pick one or another, and let me know, then yes, I could defend it. Unfortunately, they have established themselves in a good position between both those objectives. At the moment, their effort seems to be focused on Groznyy, and outflanking the Terek River positions. If they break through our defenses along the Kuma Bridgehead, then everything west of Groznyy is compromised. All the defenses in the Terek River bend are useless in that event.”

“Then what would you suggest we do?”

“Fall back here.” He pointed to the map. “Establish the line about 20 kilometers west of Groznyy, anchored on the heavy woodland in the high country. Then it follows the line of the Terek, all the way to the Caspian. There the terrain also favors us, because the heavy marshland makes it unsuitable for their mobile divisions.”

“Very well. Then do this.”

“I will order it,” said Karimov, “but that will soon dangle the same question before us. Once the Germans fully appreciate the nature of the terrain in the eastern Terek region, then what will they do with their mobile divisions? They will first bring up their infantry to face off against us on that defensive line I just outlined, then they have but two options. The first would be an attack here, just east of Groznyy, between Gudermes and the bridge south of Kargalinskaya. That is a given. It flanks Groznyy, and leads directly to the main road and rail through Makhachkala and on to Baku.”

“And the second option?”

“North,” said Karimov, a warning in his voice. “In fact, the entire mobile Corps could disengage and head north at any time. Remember, they have already bridged the Manych Canal. If they send yet another division over to go after the main rail to Astrakhan, we may not be able to stop them. In that event, all forces presently committed here will be cut off. Yes, we will still have sea communications over the Caspian, but the German Stukas will make short work of that in due course. Furthermore. If they choose a containment strategy on the Groznyy-Terek line, they could take that entire Mobile Corps, or a good portion of it, right up to Astrakhan….” He let that sink in before he spoke again, emphasizing the grave danger.

“Then we lose everything. We will lose access to all the oil in the south, and at present, I have nothing but cooks, barge handlers, stevedores and service troops at Astrakhan. Those fields, and the developments at Tengiz and Kashagan are ripe fruit for the taking.”

“God almighty….” Volkov had no good standing with the deity he invoked, but he now realized the full gravity of the situation he was facing. The Germans already had Baba Gurgur and Maykop. Now they could bottle up all his oil at Groznyy and Baku, and seize the fields around Astrakhan. Karimov was not being dramatic when he said they could lose everything. “What could we do to prevent this?” he said. “And you damn well better have a plan.”

“I have no more armies, unless you would order me to give up Volgograd and move the 2nd Army to Astrakhan. Yet that would open a vast hole in our lines for the Soviets to exploit. They may not be able to do so in the short run, but the southern Volga would be undefended. We would have to pull back the 1st Kazakh Army, which is now opposite the Italians between the Volga and the Manych Canal, and that means yielding the entire Kalmyk Steppe region, making the Volga our new defense line. Yet before that happens we still have the option to pull out as much as we can and try to swing it north of the Kuma and Manych Canal—to try and defend Astrakhan well south of the city, and also hold Elista. Unfortunately, every division we move is one less to hold the line I showed you earlier. But we must choose, Mister General Secretary, North or South. We cannot adequately defend both. Choose one, and we may have a chance at holding on to something here. Astrakhan would seem the better objective to try and hold, since it is very likely that Groznyy will fall, and Baku will be cut off, even by sea routes over the Caspian.”

Volkov clenched his jaw, his eyes dark, brow deepened with anger. “Damn the German Army,” he said in a low voice. “Damn Hitler and his rapacious appetite….” He waited, leaning over the map. Then, without even looking at Karimov, he gave the order.

“Save Astrakhan—by any means possible. Save it, or I will have your head!”

Karimov would have his work cut out for him. He looked for the troops he needed to accomplish it anywhere he could find them. The 71st Division, part of 7th Army, had been forced to retreat over the Manych Canal at Divnoye. Now it was part of the defensive group around Elista, and together with the 11th Guards Rifle Division there, he had two strong and fresh divisions he could quickly move by rail. If he could extricate the bulk of the 7th Army from its positions in the south, then the north might be held.

The danger point now was a narrow 40-kilometer corridor near the confluence of the Kuma with the Caspian Sea. The thin rail line traversed that corridor, crossing the Kuma near its marshy delta on the Caspian, and proceeded north to Astrakhan. As far as Orenburg was now concerned, and particularly for General Karimov, that 40-kilometer bottleneck was the most important ground in the Federation.

The General began extricating any intact mobile brigade he had and shifting it in that direction, and was also pulling all the divisions of the 7th Army out of the Terek defenses, and looking for ways to get them to the threatened zone. The question now was whether he would have time to do so before the Germans either broke through or decided to shift north over the Manych Canal as he feared.

To make this sudden shift, he still had to keep something on the line in the Kuma Bridgehead sector, and for this he relied on the Army of the Kalmyk, a second-rate formation that he knew would not hold long. It was his intention to order those troops to begin a withdrawal to the Groznyy line. His aim was to try and save and move as many regular Army formations as possible.

At the same time, he summoned at Air Vice Marshall in charge of the Southern Sector, and told him to do everything possible to interdict the German supply line over the Manych Canal. To that end, the airships Taskent, Taraz and Sarkand transported their airmobile companies behind the German lines and landed to conduct raids, if only a demonstration of the vulnerability of that LOC. The Germans had clear air superiority, but those airships could climb to heights where no German fighter could follow, and then they could choose just the right time in the dead of night to quickly descend and deliver their assault squads.

The rail line was a life saver, in spite of attempts by the Luftwaffe to interdict it. By the 19th of April, Karimov had labored mightily to save his own head, and as much of the army as he could. He now had eight rifle divisions and four smaller brigades north of the Kuma to begin operations aimed at uprooting the German 3rd Panzergrenadier Division. Three more divisions were being moved from Armenia and Georgia, and now only the 3rd Army was still trying to hold the line near the Terek, with scattered elements of the Kalmyk Army along the Kuma Bridgehead line. That position would soon collapse, and a full-scale retreat to Groznyy would begin.

General Manstein was also looking at the map, quite pleased with what he had accomplished in just a few weeks. His infantry was moving on the Terek, and his 1st Panzer Army had performed brilliantly, unhinging every enemy defensive line with its skillfully executed maneuvers. The enemy finally saw the danger, and they have massed everything they could find to try and stop me, he thought. 3rd Panzergrenadiers got over the Manych Canal and put the fear of the Lord into them. Now they are scrambling to defend Astrakhan.

At the moment, my mobile forces are about equidistant from those two widely spaced objectives, Astrakhan and Baku. It’s clear that they don’t want me moving north. They have compromised what might have been a very solid defense here in the south to try and protect the approaches to Astrakhan. So it seems that someone, most likely Volkov, has made his choice. He isn’t stupid. He can read a map as easily as I can, and knows that he cannot hold both cities. I am 40 kilometers from cutting his armies off, so he is trying to pull as many divisions out as he can now.

As for Baku, I may eventually get there, but it will not be as easy as it looks. On one side are the mountains, on the other side the Caspian Sea. As send 11th and 17th Armies south, with each mile we gain, the open terrain is compressed a little more by that geography. The will be attacking into a funnel created by those mountains and the sea. With every mile, the enemy defensive front compresses, and it can therefore be held with fewer and fewer troops. It will be no place for my Panzer Divisions, as there will be no room to maneuver there. So how to proceed here?

I have orders to take Baku, but they say nothing about Astrakhan—at least not yet. That city is a major oil producing site, and also acts as the gateway to more developments and resources on the North Caspian shore. Success has many friends, and Hitler must be elated that his miracle worker has delivered the Caucasus as promised. How long will it be before I get orders to move on Astrakhan?

I do not wish to go there, and frankly, it would take a major effort to just get over the Manych in force. That river is impenetrable over most of its length, kilometers wide and surrounded by deep water marshes. It can only be crossed in three places, the Manych Canal where it meets the Kuma River, the road and rail bridges at Divnoye, and the sector near Salsk and Proletarskaya. The first two are defended, and we control the last.

So how would I operate if ordered to continue to prosecute the war against Volkov? I would attack at Divnoye in conjunction with a drive on Elista from the north and west, where the Rumanians are posted. Volkov uses Elista as a forward depot and air field, so I will have to take that place soon. There are no good German troops available. Could the 3rd Rumanian Army do this? We shall see. Perhaps I could stiffen that force by adding in 22nd Panzer Division, but that unit is in deep reserve. Otherwise, I would have to shift a division from the south, and this seems my best option at the moment. Thus far, the Russians have been accommodating. We know they’ve been building up, but do they have plans to attack along the lower Don? If so, where might they come? I may need to leave 22nd Panzer where it is.

There were always questions like this in his mind. The long hiatus of winter was ending, particularly in the south, and he knew that operations would soon begin again. In late 1942, Georgie Zhukov had thrown one offensive after another at the Germans between Volgograd and Kharkov, but Manstein, with the able services of men like Steiner and Hermann Balck, had parried each and every one. Steiner had fought to hold open a corridor to Model at Voronezh, butting heads with strong Soviet armies south of Kursk. Then winter imposed its freezing hand on the battlefield, Hitler gave up Voronezh, and Manstein went south to eventually learn he would now have to fight both enemies and allies alike.

The campaign had been a complete success, and now he could sense that things were winding down towards an inevitable conclusion. His 17th and 11th Armies would grind their way into Groznyy, of this he had no doubt. Whether they could then go all the way to Baku remained to be seen, but Manstein had no intention of using his five mobile divisions there. His effort now was to get to the most favorable position possible, and then find a way to extricate those valuable troops, just as he had done after reaching Volgograd. In truth, he did not really wish to go to Baku, nor did he want to keep any of these five good mobile divisions in the Caucasus, but orders were orders.

First things first, he thought. I must take Groznyy and then move aggressively for Baku, but I need to reposition my mobile forces to a more central location. As for 3rd Panzergrenadier Division, it’s position north of the Manych Canal is becoming somewhat precarious. So I will order General Graser to consolidate and then simply defend that bridgehead. I am not going to Astrakhan by that route, some 250 kilometers. If I must drive on Astrakhan, then I will move mobile forces to Zimovinki by rail to get them all north of the Manych. From there, the only obstacle will be the desolation of the Kalmyk Steppe—balkas, stone fields, salt pans, marshes, deep sand. It is no place for an army, and even when we cross it, half of Astrakhan is on the other side of the Volga. My panzers might get there, but that is the last place I would want to send them. In fact, I want them back north of the Don as soon as possible. Let us hope the Führer is satisfied with Groznyy and Baku….