Second Front

Chapter 25

If the Allies thought it would be easy to secure the French cooperation and conclude matters without further bloodshed, Juan Alfonso had put an end to their hopes that day. Admiral Darlan’s Train was not in that safe underground railway tunnel, but instead on a bridge over a small river at Saint Jean de Luz. That bridge was struck by those two A-20s and blown to pieces by a direct hit that killed the Admiral in the ensuing train wreck. Whether his order would have ever been given, or heeded, was still debatable.

In Fedorov’s history, the Allies had landed at Casablanca, Oran and Algiers simultaneously, thus striking at the key facilities and cities in both Morocco and Algeria. Days later they were already pushing into Tunisia. There were no German troops to speak of in either country, and little in the way of Luftwaffe support. Now, with Algeria uncontested and secure, German troops landing at Tunis and taking to the rail lines, heading west, the Hindenburg battlegroup arriving at Oran after its aborted sortie into the Atlantic, and nearly 450 Luftwaffe planes patrolling vast segments of the region, Darlan’s order may very well have fallen on deaf ears.

After paying his respects to the Sultan of Morocco, promising to quickly liberate the remainder of his country, General Patton set out to do exactly that. He held Casablanca secure, now receiving supplies an equipment from the transport convoys, but near Port Lyautey the landing forces had been held up by the difficult river crossing a strong redoubt called the Kasbah, and the sudden arrival of unexpected German reinforcements.

Rather than push tired and disorganized troops against what looked like a strong defense, Patton decided to pull the regiments of the 1st Infantry Division out and replaced them with what had been Task Force Green, composed of 6th Armored Infantry Regiment. He wanted to collect all the 1st Division, and move them further east behind Harmon’s Blackstone Force, which was driving on Mekenes. Between that point and the coast near the Kasbah, the 9th Infantry held the line.

Having all these divisions in hand gave Patton a much more powerful force here than he had historically, because all the troops that had been assigned to Oran and Algiers were now his to command in this single location. However, no thanks to Kesselring’s startling withdrawal of the two German air mobile divisions, he would now be facing much tougher resistance, and there would be no question of further surrender on the part of the French.

The news of Darlan’s death at the hands of those two A-20s did much to stiffen the resolve of Petain to fight on—that and the shadow of the German 7th Army, including the movement of 6th and 7th Panzer Divisions towards Toulon, along with 334th Infantry Division, bound for Algeria. The Americans had called those planes the Havoc, though in British hands it was given the more sedate name of the Boston. Yet a rose is a rose, and havoc was the order of the day. Now the French resistance would give the Germans just the time they needed to get reinforcements to North Africa.

So while he had been visiting the Sultan, dining with Governor of Dakar and the Grand Vizier, commiserating with French Generals in the old history, Patton was all business now. He was quickly reorganizing the US Army to begin the next phase of the operations aimed at Tangier. First, to secure his southern flank, he ordered 60th and 168th Infantry Regiments, and the 41st Armored Infantry Battalion south to secure Marrakech. The 39th RCT was moving inland to attempt to cut the road between that city and Fez, and also watch for any possible infiltration by German units coming up to Fez from the south.

“Alright,” said Patton as he convened a staff meeting. “We’ve kindled the torch here, but the flame is guttering, and we’ve a long way to go. It’s high time we turn his thing into a real firebrand, and then stick it right up the enemy’s behind! We’re going to take that damn Kasbah with Robinette’s armored infantry and a liberal dose of good naval gunfire support. I was aboard the Augusta when the 9th came in at Fedala, and those boys know how to dish it out. Blew my personal launch right off the deck! Now then… 9th Infantry will push hard for this town here.” He fingered Sidi Slimane on the map. “That’s holding them by the nose. Then I’ll sweep around to the right, run Harmon and Allen’s troops into Mekenes, and kick ‘em in the ass.”

It was going to be the first coordinated American attack of the war on a corps level, three full divisions, with a supporting armored task force, against two French and two German divisions. It began on the coast near the strong French fortress known as the Kasbah. It had resisted the probing infantry attacks of 1st Infantry for three days, and the French had held the American advance up at the winding river that looped in a sharp hairpin anchored at Port Lyautey. Then that unit was pulled out, and Robinette’s 6th Armored Infantry rattled up in halftracks.

After giving the enemy one last chance to surrender, which was met with machinegun fire that took down an American officer under a white flag, the battleship Massachusetts open fire and began pounding the thick stone walls with a fearful din. When that fire lifted, 2nd Battalion 6th Armored Infantry made their attack, the men dismounted and fixed bayonets, the halftracks backing them up with heavy suppressive MG fire. They broke the defense of 2nd Moroccan Infantry, stormed the Kasbah and pushed on over the river to a beach that should have been taken on D-Day, but one that was missed due to a mix-up in the landings.

The Americans already had the airfield, where P-40s that had been crowded onto the decks of the light carrier Chenango had flown in the previous evening to support the attack. Half a mile east, the tanks of 1/13th Armored Battalion had taken the bridge over the river. With the defense of the 1st Moroccan Regiment cracking, 1st and 3rd Battalions of the 7th Flieger Division moved quickly forward to bolster the line, the veteran troops crouching low as they sprinted forward. Soon they were in position, with MG 42s sited to rake the open ground if the enemy persisted. Two batteries of artillery sent up by rail from the 22nd Air Landing Division now opened fire on the leading American positions, which sent the inexperienced GIs diving for any cover they could find in the barren ground.

Colonel Robinette saw what was happening, and looked for a radio to get fire support from the navy. It would be quick in coming, as the cruiser Tuscaloosa, and the battleship Texas were hovering off shore, ready to weigh in. Meanwhile, the 9th Infantry Division put heavy pressure all along the line from the port, along the river, to the inland town of El Khemist on the road to Mekenes. There it took the intervention of the German 327th Recon Battalion, finding A-Company of the American 756th Tank Battalion moving through a hole in the disorganized French defense.

The Germans had seven SdKfz 234s and another eight lighter 221s, but they were enough to stop and push the US Light tanks back when supported by a company of motorcycle infantry. On the main road itself, the 327th Pioneer Battalion was already digging in behind the French positions, the engineers building a hasty defensive position, where they now crouched with Panzerfausts and MG-42s. They were the first two battalions of that division to arrive, but the 595th Regiment was only about 20 kilometers south of Mekenes and tramping north into the grey dawn. Behind them would come the 596th, expecting to reach the city before noon.

It would be a kind of scissors, paper, rock affair. The hard points of the German defense near the coast would be papered by the greater mass of the US force, and the French were not able to hold the gaps between these strongpoints. If the Germans organized a counterattack, those scissors would be smashed by the rock of superb naval gunfire from the battleships Texas and New York, and cruisers Augusta, Philadelphia and Tuscaloosa. The Germans called Fez for air support to paper over those naval units, but in came the scissors of the American air defense, with P-40’s off the airfield at Port Lyautey, Wildcats off the decks of the carrier Ranger, and P-38s from airfields near Casablanca.

The Americans could not match the German Bf-109s, but they outnumbered them, and the new P-38 gave them very good long range coverage, and excellent loiter time. The Germans were seeing this plane for the first time, a combination of speed, agility, range and hitting power that would make it the excellent fighter they would come to call der Gabelschwanz-Teufel, “the fork-tailed devil.”

Yet the Germans learned quickly, and their veteran pilots soon discovered the new enemy plane did not roll very fast, making it vulnerable in a dogfight with their excellent Bf-109s. When matched against the better German pilots, the P-38s often came out on the losing end, but combined with the other American aircraft swirling about the skies, the Allies had enough to control the vital airspace over the coast. Now the maxim that the British had learned in the Western Desert was proven here—where Allied fighters could control the skies, the Stuka was dead in any role it attempted to perform, be it close support or interdiction.

Yet Kesselring was very cool on defense, and he knew he had sufficient force in hand to delay this attack until he could position more troops to the north. He sent the remainder of Student’s 7th Flieger Division up the rail line from Mekenes to organize a defense in depth. Then he fed those regiments of the 337th Division, now arriving from Casablanca, and used them to set up a defense against the drive by General Harmon on the main road, and the enfilading attack by Allen’s 1st Infantry Division further south. General Kubler’s 98th Mountain Regiment, finally arriving after two weeks hard march, would anchor the line well to the south, and as for the 22nd Luftland Division, he mustered these Regiments at the airfields around Fez, collecting all the Ju-52s he could find.

The British 6th Armored Division had pushed through Villa Real to link up with the landing of the 36th Brigade Group south of Huelva. Hube’s 16th Panzer was hard pressed when the 3rd Infantry Division came up to the north, flanking their defensive screen west of Seville. That was to be the first real battle in the north. The British had little trouble pushing across the border into Spain, as Franco’s troops preferred to withdraw rather than get into any hard defensive positions there. As Montgomery was keenly focused in driving south towards Gibraltar through Seville, the Spanish divisions were content to stay well north of that action, screening the frontier where the Portuguese were equally content to sit on their side of the border, unengaged.

Yet Monty would face a tough and hardening defense around Seville. Well north, his 43rd Wessex Division was facing off against the German 327th Infantry, and on the 28th of September, the 15th Infantry Division arrived after a long rail journey through Valencia and Cordoba. They were just in time to begin relieving Hube’s screening forces, and the General intended to pull back his 16th Panzers, regroup, and use them to counterattack.

South of Seville, there was only one good road from the beachhead near Huelva, and it was now being watched by elements of Himmler’s little surprise gift to Hitler, the SS Charlemagne Brigade. Troops landing on the beaches south of Huelva found they could not flank this defense due to heavy marshland that extended well inland between Seville and Cadiz on the coast further south. That port would now become the apple of Montgomery’s eye, and he contemplated sending in another seaborne assault.

“Look here,” he said. “We’ve got Spitfires and Hurricanes on every airfield worth the name in Portugal now, and I daresay we’ll have the edge over the Luftwaffe—enough to cover a landing at Cadiz. That port can support my push on Gibraltar easily enough, but we’ve only the 27th Brigade Group left for infantry, and they’re at Lagos in Portugal.”

“What about the Commandos, sir? We’ve had a good look at the Canaries, and Jerry had pulled out, lock, stock and barrel. They’ve only left a small garrison there, and Alexander reports he has sufficient force to go on the offensive when the shipping arrives. That leaves all those Commando Battalions, and Johnny Frost’s 1st Parachute Regiment as well. Might we use them at Cadiz?”

That idea sounded very appealing to Montgomery, and he set about pulling the levers to get his hands on those troops immediately. The Commandos could move in under cover of darkness, seize the moles and jetties at both Cadiz and the smaller port of Rota to the north. Then they could be strongly reinforced with the 29th Brigade Group embarking from Lagos.

That was the plan for the 29th of September, and Number 2 Commando had little trouble, storming the quays of Cadiz and pushing out a small, ill equipped German service battalion. Yet this battle would also become something considerably more than the lightning swift raid in Monty’s mind.

Cadiz itself stood on a narrow spit of land extending up from the south near the town of San Fernando, and framing a wide bay. It was a perfect breakwater, and the landward side to the east, from San Fernando in the south to Puerto Real further north was backed by marshland broken by a web of small water canals. It was no place for armor, or any mechanized force, so the attack would have to be all infantry here. Further north, the bay stretched up past Santa Maria to the small port of Rita, where the Germans had occupied the airfield. Whether or not the British had air superiority, planes off that field would be a constant threat, and Admiral Tovey deemed it too risky to commit his valuable battleships in an attempt to close that field with naval gunfire. It would have to be work for the destroyers.

The defense of the bay had not been adequately determined, though the easy landing made by Number 2 Commando got things off on the right foot. Now, however, they would either have to fight their way down that narrow spit of land, or take to their assault boats again and attempt to cross the bay. The swampy ground and salt pans there precluded that, and so the only option was to take the road south to San Fernando. They would be quickly reinforced by 10 and 12 Commandos, bringing their numbers to regimental strength by mid day.

Further north, 4 and 9 Commandos would land at Rota, seize that German airfield, and then push through the light woodland on much better ground. Their primary objective would be to reach the larger town of Jerez, about 20 kilometers east of Rota. That city sat like the hub of a wheel, with roads extending out in all directions. If the enemy had mobile troops to reinforce this sector, that is where they would have to come.

What the British did not know was that the Germans had already sent reinforcements to the area. The Pioneer Battalion of SS Charlemagne had arrived at Santa Maria between Cadiz and Rota, and Rota itself was already garrisoned by II/58th Battalion of that same brigade. These were Vichy French troops, but the best of the lot, and their ranks were well seeded with Veteran SS troops and officers. The Commandos were going to have more on their hands than they bargained for. Some 60 kilometers north on the road to Seville, I/58th Motorized Infantry could also take to their vehicles and get south to the Cadiz area in just a few hours time.

Another thing that Monty had not taken into account was that Cadiz was only some 55 miles from Gibraltar as the crow flies, and the Germans would certainly react strongly to any attempt to take it. They would soon concentrate the bulk of their air power there, and move any available troops south from Seville to secure that flank.

This would be the tale of two cities that would decide the outcome of the campaign in Spain. To get to Gibraltar, Montgomery needed Cadiz and Seville, and that was where the fire of war was now, burning hotter with each passing hour.

Chapter 26

Three British Commando units had been sent to take Rota. Number 4 and 9 Commandos landed north of the town, seizing a small lighthouse and breakwater and then pushing into the light woods. Number 4 Commando was late, and it came under enemy air attack soon after dawn. Stukas on the airfield north of Jerez were able to make runs from lower elevation before the Allied fighter cover thickened, and they caught the units approaching the shore, savaging it and inflicting heavy casualties. The men come in through the tall sea spray thrown up by the bombs, but many were flayed by shrapnel, and dead in the water before they ever reached the beach.

By 09:00 on the 29th, Number 9 Commando was approaching Rota from the north and came under heavy MG fire. 4 Commando was also pinned down as they approached the small town of Barameda, as another German battalion had come down to bolster that flank.

Only at Cadiz itself was any real progress made. Number 2 Commando chased out the German service troops, secured the docks and quays, but could not push into Puerto Real. The British therefore decided to try and flank the position through the hamlet of Chiclana de la Frontera south of the marshy salt pans, and met little opposition. Yet it was soon clear that this force could not push further inland without substantial support, and that would have to wait for the 29th Brigade Group of 78th Infantry, assembling at Lagos and planning to move by sea that night.

When they landed at Cadiz under cover of darkness and heavy cloud cover, it dramatically changed the calculus of the entire battle in Spain. Thus far, only the motorized infantry regiment of SS Charlemagne had reacted to what appeared to be a strong raid on Rota and Cadiz. Now, with reports of British regulars on the road south of Cadiz and heading for Gibraltar, Hube was compelled to detach the Panzergrenadier regiment of SS Charlemagne, and hasten it south. To do so, he had to shuffle his entire defense of Seville, and under heavy pressure from the British 6th Armored Division backed by 3rd Infantry. He fed in arriving battalions of the 15th Infantry, using them to cover the withdrawal of his own 16th Panzer Division.

Now the entire SS Charlemagne Brigade was rushing south, mostly by road, but II Sturm Battalion managed to find enough rolling stock outside Seville to go by rail. When it arrived at Algeciras near Gibraltar that evening, it was practically the only German unit screening the Rock.

To make matters worse, the British had diverted yet another armored division that had been destined to go to 8th Army in Alexandria. There O’Connor was to receive both the 8th and 10th Armored Divisions, but he only got the 8th. Monty got the 10th, and he landed it at Lisbon, moving it quickly by rail across the frontier into Spain. That heavy reinforcement, along with the 43rd Wessex already on the line, was going to force the steady withdrawal of 327th Infantry Division. In just one day after committing to the raid on Cadiz, the entire situation in Spain had changed, and now Gibraltar was under threat of imminent attack.

That night Royal Marines would make another daring landing at the small fishing port of Barbate, near Frontera on the main road to Gibraltar. They seized that town, and occupied hill 1024 overlooking that road, which now extended southeast through a lowland valley and then into hills leading to Tarifa on the southernmost tip of Spain. From there it would climb beneath the looming highland east of Algeciras, just a few miles to the Rock.

Hube got on the phone to Kesselring, asking him if there was anything he had in the way of air mobile forces that could be sent to Gibraltar.

“What happened to your panzer division?”

“It’s been in a tough fight for days. We had 109 tanks when we entered Spain. Now I have 57 as of this morning. I’m relieving it with 15th Infantry to build up a mobile reserve. Can you send anything?”

“I have two regiments of the 22nd on the airfields at Fez,” said Kesselring.

“Then send one, at the very least.”

“That will be a very hazardous affair. The Allies have fighters up every day now, thick as flees on a camel’s back.”

“Try in any case, and if they cannot get through, then you must get something to Tangier, Ceuta or any other port so they can go by sea. The Führer demands that Gibraltar be held at all costs!”

Kesselring tried, but while Ramcke’s Headquarters unit of the 16 Regiment got through, none of the transports carrying its troops would ever land at Gibraltar. They were pounced on by P-38s, and even though the German Bf-109s exacted a heavy toll, the resulting air battle forced most of the Ju-52s to abort and return to Fez. Those that persisted ran into the new British Seafires over the Straits of Gibraltar off the carrier Victorious, and many went into the sea. The remainder looked for any safe airfield in Morocco to go to ground.

Ramcke got off his JU-52, feeling lucky to be alive when he saw the bullet holes in the tail where a fighter had taken a nip out of them. He stood there on the airfield, beneath the imposing stark cliffs of the Rock, waiting for an hour. At noon he took a car into the city, looking for the local commandant of the garrison, a Colonel Jurgen.

“Greeting’s General,” said Jurgen. “Just in time to stop the British!”

“Oh?” said Ramcke, “Sorry to say that none of my men got through. I suppose I can help a little with my service pistol, but first, I think I will need a stiff drink.”

When Kesselring got the news he swore, throwing a briefcase against the wall of his headquarters in Fez. That was a waste of time and resources. The planes and men that made it back to Fez would now have to regroup, repair, and refuel—either that or the troops would have to find a way to go by road or rail as Hube had suggested. The rail line through Mekenes to Tangier was still open, but Kesselring saw that route as also subject to heavy Allied air attack. He could see that anything he sent that way would most likely have to de-train and move overland about 50 kilometers to the smaller port of Ceuta. Tangier was being watched by enemy submarines hovering off the harbor, and Raeder had no destroyers to go after them. That port was effectively useless to us, he knew. We hold it simply to deny it to the enemy, who would soon use it as a place to spring board towards Gibraltar.

Yet anything I sent by that route will likely be too late to remedy the situation in southern Spain. And if I do send anything, it will likely find itself trapped up there, and forced to withdraw on Ceuta to have any chance of escape. As long as we hold the straits of Gibraltar, at least that port is still operational, but that could change soon. Raeder will not commit Hindenburg to the defense of those straits, and so everything relies on the defense provided by six U-boats, the shore batteries, and minefields. Tangier is outside that wall of defense, Ceuta well inside it.

The telephone rang, interrupting his thoughts. It was Kurt Student calling from his position on the coast north of Port Lyautey.

“The French are useless!” he complained. “My battalions are in good defensive positions, but the French collapse in the gaps between them, and if my men stand, they’ll be enveloped. I’ve been conducting a stubborn withdrawal north, but unless I get some reliable support out here, I cannot guarantee you anything. The Americans are pushing hard up the coast road, and it is covered by their damnable naval gunfire. Where are the Stukas?”

“They can’t get through,” said Kesselring. “We started with 250 Bf-109s, and have already lost 25% of them.

Then reports came in from Kubler, on the road south of Fez. He had been holding the extreme flank of the line of defense put up by the 337th Infantry Division, stretching from Mekenes on south. Primarily held by German troops, that line had held off the American 1st Infantry Division, but now, Kubler reported more enemy units on the road to his south. They had reached the road junction at the town of Ainleuh, where the main road ran northeast through Irfane to Fez, and a secondary road ran north to Kubler’s position and eventually Mekenes.

“These troops have to be coming up from Marrakech,” said Kubler on the radio. They are only half a day’s march from the airfield at Irfane. I’ll have to pull out now to have any chance of getting Back to cover Fez. Either that, or you must use those last battalions of the 22nd Luftland Division. They were behind us as we came north, and must have reached Irfane by now.”

“Yes,” said Kesselring. “That is where I’ve been mustering every JU-52 I could get my hands on. But moving them by air may be out of the question now. Look Kubler, we must now see this situation as nothing more than a delaying action. The French are useless, just as you say. Half their troops want nothing to do with this fight, and the half that remain aren’t enough to do anything worth mentioning. On top of that, Hube is asking me to send troops to Gibraltar! It is clear that we will not be able to hold this front long, and so we will have to begin a fighting withdrawal. Play for time. Your division, and the 22nd are the only effective troops in French North Africa between here and Tunisia!”

“Nothing has been sent from Germany?”

“Oh, we are promised the 334th Division, green troops for the most part. Rommel has two good divisions on the way, but they will not get here in time to save Morocco. Algeria is another matter. A number of small units are forming up in Tunis, and some are already on the rail lines heading west. Koch is there.”

“You can rely on him,” said Student. “Those were troops I was culling to build my next Flieger Division, a good brigade.”

“I’m sending them to Oran, and Raeder has seen fit to move the Hindenburg there. It arrived this morning, along with those two aircraft carriers and the Kaiser Wilhelm. That may keep the French Oran Division in line for a while, but Koch should also be there tonight… which is where we will be headed soon in my judgment. Morocco is not defensible with Gibraltar under pressure like this. We must either put all our units into the defense of Gibraltar, and likely lose them here, or play for time. If I get everything I was promised, I can delay the Allied advance on Tunisia for months. So this is the plan. If I get word that Hube cannot stop this attack on Gibraltar, then we are finished here in Morocco. Get your men back to the rail line and secure rolling stock now. I’ll keep the line open through Mekenes to Fez, and we will fall back on Oran. The Führer will not want to hear anything about withdrawals, and if he does, it will likely be my head on a platter, but we must do what we must do. See to it.”

That night, four Marsch Battalions pulled into Algiers, troops that had been intended as replacement battalions for Rommel. Behind them on the road, was another motorized battalion designated KG Hauer. Major General Mast, in command of the Division de Algiers, was headquartered outside the city, at a town called Blida on the rail line. He had been Chief of Staff of the French 10th Army Corps at the outbreak of the war before moving to this post. Yet he had long been suspected of disloyalty to the Vichy regime, and was even arrested at one point, before a close personal friend who was also the Japanese Military Attaché to Vichy France obtained his release. So the Germans were somewhat edgy as to his reliability, and the disposition of his division in that vital city.

Algiers was important for its harbor, two good airfields, and close proximity to Toulon relative to Oran or Gibraltar. It was also the center of Vichy French administration for all their North African colonies and protectorates. If it were to fall, all German operations to the west would be cut off. Still suspecting General Mast was in league with other officers like Giraud who were deemed ‘collaborators’ with the Allies, Kesselring had been ordered to take any and all necessary measures to secure that city and port.

General Mast had been told the Germans would be coming to Algiers, a brief stop before continuing west towards Morocco, but that was a lie. Kesselring intended them to take control of the city and harbor, even though they would be badly outnumbered if it came to hostilities. Mast had over 7500 men under arms in and around Algiers, to no more than 1800 German troops arriving in those battalions.

There was one other reason why the Germans were very nervous about this situation, and it was moored to the long stone breakwater out in the bay, the pride of the French Fleet, the battleship Normandie. Admiral Laborde was commanding that ship, with a small flotilla of destroyers out in the bay. His dislike of Darlan was well known. In fact, Marshall Petain had played him off against Darlan, and at times whispered that he might replace him. Laborde was also angry at Admiral Raeder, seeing his use of French naval resources as nothing more than a disaster for the navy. In Fedorov’s history, it would be Laborde who would give the order to scuttle the French Fleet at Toulon, and Hitler had received a message from Ivan Volkov warning him of this, and telling him to watch that man closely. So he, too, was darkly suspected of collusion with the Allies, and when a man you suspect of possible treason is commanding one of the most powerful battleships in the world, you take special precautions.

That night, three U-boats were lurking in the silent darkness beneath the sea off Algiers, and they were each carrying a platoon of the elite Brandenburg Commandos. Their mission, should it be determined that Laborde and Mast were unreliable, was to seize control of the Normandie on a signal that would be transmitted later.

General Mast would be receiving General Hasso-Eccard Freiherr von Manteuffel, the commander of those four Marsch battalions, for dinner at his headquarters. Manteuffel had been told those battalions were to be the nucleus of a new division that would take over at Algiers, but his first order of business would be to size up General Mast and make the decision as to whether or not that fateful signal would be given to the Brandenburgers.

It was going to be a very long night.

Chapter 27

“A very good meal,” said Manteuffel as he sopped up the last of the sauce that had been ladled over a very fine cut of lamb. “When I was told I would be assigned to 5th Panzer Army, I did not expect the fare would be quite so opulent.”

General Mast nodded with a smile. “I cannot say we dine this way every day, Mon General, Yet for a special guest, a little civility is warranted. It reminds me of France, and the life we had… before the war.”

Manteuffel could not help but notice the certain inflexion in the other man’s voice. It wasn’t a longing for the better times of the past. There was a certain recrimination in his tone, well masked, but there. It was just the sort of thing the General was there to look for. He had been briefed on this man, and told his host had long been suspected of collaboration with the Allies. Now he was here to ascertain his reliability.

“Well General,” he said. “You and your troops have not had a bad posting here in Algeria. I daresay it is much preferred to the duty I had in Russia. Now, however, the war is coming in your direction. Can you say your men are ready to deal with that?”

“My men will always be ready to defend France,” said Mast, and Manteuffel noted that there was wide latitude in that careful statement. “But tell me,” Mast said quickly. “This 5th Panzer Army—it is coming from Germany?”

“From Rommel, for the most part. I am forming a division here as units arrive at Tunis, but the guts of the army will be the panzer divisions Rommel sends us. There will be more troops arriving very soon.”

“I see… Then Rommel can afford to detach these divisions in his present position? It was my understanding that he has been rather hard pressed since the battle on the Gazala line.”

“He still holds the line at Mersa Brega, and I am told that is very good ground for defense.”

“Ah… Then he is no longer planning another move east. Lord knows we sent him more than enough trucks to get him to Alexandria.”

“And for that we are very appreciative,” said Manteuffel. “But you and I both know that Rommel will never get to Alexandria. General Mast, let me be clear about what is now happening. As you may well know, the British have landed in Spain and the Americans already have Casablanca. It is a pity that all our good troops out west were in Southern Morocco and the Canary Islands when this invasion began, but they have already been withdrawn north—three divisions under General Kesselring. In fact, My division will be subordinate to his headquarters with 1st Fallschirm-Armee North Afrika. General von Arnim will command 5th Panzer Armee with the troops Rommel sends him, and the whole lot with be renamed Armee Group Afrika. Now then, that fight in Morocco will soon be coming here, and both Oran and Algiers will likely become principle objectives of the enemy. You and your men will soon be put to the test.”

“Then you are taking your men west to Oran tomorrow?”

“Those are my orders.” Manteuffel lied.

“Well then rest assured, Algiers will be kept secure for France in your absence. Have you noticed our other distinguished guest out in the harbor? I extended an invitation to Admiral Laborde to join us this evening, but he was otherwise engaged. Yet with the Normandie sitting out there, I do not think the Allies will be coming here by sea—and not while you still hold Gibraltar. Have no fear, I will meet with the Admiral tomorrow and we will determine how best to proceed. In the meantime, I do hope you enjoy your battle in Morocco. I never liked the place. Too many flies, even this late in the year. Yes… big grey flies….”

Manteuffel heard more in that than he wished. He was a very astute man, and could see through a brick wall if he sat before it long enough. One thing he clearly saw here was that this General Mast had no love of the German Army. He had no doubt that those big grey flies were the Luftwaffe troops holding the line in Morocco. And what might this man be cooking up with Admiral Laborde tomorrow, he thought?

What he would do next would be very risky. He had four battalions of infantry in the city, all down near the harbor. In the morning, when his men failed to board the trains again for their supposed journey west, this General Mast will not like that news over his breakfast. But the Normandie is the key. Its guns could pound my troops to dust if the French had the backbone to fire on this city. The next train in from Tunis will have a thousand navy men, all that Admiral Raeder could send us from Germany and Southern France. I am told Vice Admiral Hellmuth Heye is getting a big promotion and a seat in the Kapitan’s Chair of the Normandie, and of course, that ship will have to be renamed.

But all of this awaits my decision here, and my order to take that ship. That will be work for the Brandenburgers. A full company is seeded in those Marsch Battalions near the harbor—excellent troops under Friedrich von Konen. The rest come on the U-boats, and if we cannot take that ship, they have orders to sink it rather than see it break out into the Med.

An aide from his headquarters staff came in precisely at 11:00pm, as ordered, whispering something in his ear. Manteuffel looked at his watch, noting the time and realizing that the moon would be down in precisely sixteen minutes. “Well General Mast,” he said. If you will excuse me, I have yet another appointment this evening, and it will be a very long day tomorrow. I thank you for your hospitality, and I hope we can repay your courtesy in the days ahead.”

Mast smiled, not knowing that Manteuffel had whispered a pre-arranged phrase to the aid, who departed with a salute, only to return a moment later with three armed men.

“Your escort?” said Mast, raising an eyebrow. “I can assure you that the area is completely secure.”

“No, Mon General, this is your escort. If you will be so kind enough to remain here, I must be off to make certain this area is indeed secure.” Manteuffel pulled on his gloves, smiled and turned to leave. He stopped, turning briefly. “My adjutant will ask you to order your men to stand down here. If they do not, then hostilities will commence immediately.”

“What is the meaning of this? Hostilities? What do you intend here? This is outrageous! I will do no such thing!”

“I was afraid that would be your answer.” Manteuffel strode out, his footsteps hard and fast in the outer hall.

Even as he did so, his aides had already transmitted the code name “Amsel,” or “Blackbird” to all the four Marsch Battalion commanders. They were already setting up defensive positions around the harbor, while other units were fanning out, intending to surprise as many unwary French units as possible and disarm them before they could be formed into any force for real resistance. They were moving to secure the rail yards and station at the harbor, where feeder lines extended onto all the docks and quays. Others burst into the Provisional Government offices on Rude d’ Isly, while a full company was dispatched to seize control of Fort L’empereur on a low hill overlooking the city, while another moved to surprise the barracks at Caserne d’ Orleans.

The Brandenburgers were already on the move, with Konen dispatching one platoon to the long cement breakwater. The appointment Manteuffel had alluded to with General Mast was a visit he had planned to the Normandie, to meet briefly with Admiral Laborde, ostensibly to deliver a personal letter from Admiral Raeder. Of course, he would never make that appointment, for his aim was to quickly reach KGs Witzig and Hauer only now arriving by truck outside the city. That unit would be tasked with securing roads from Blida to Algiers, and the headquarters units of General Mast. In his place, Konen would arrive with an escort, dressed out in a Wehrmacht General’s uniform, and posing as Manteuffel himself. His aim was to be escorted deep into the heart of the battleship, and get as many of his men on the deck of that behemoth as possible.

At the same time, those three u-boats had surfaced to disgorge their platoons of commandos, all in black uniforms and slipping into the sea on dark inflatable rubber boats. They paddled silently through the relatively still waters, glad that the tides were quiet. Behind them was one other very special unit. A group of Kriegsmarine crewmen that had been pulled off the Hindenburg when it was at Gibraltar, and flown out by seaplane to rendezvous with a fourth U-boat in the Med. They were gunners, all highly trained in the operations of heavy naval armament, and their leader was none other than Axel Faust, the strong arm of Anton turret on the Hindenburg. They would follow the Brandenburgers in, waiting just off the harbor until a lantern signal ordered them to proceed.

The commandos slipped up to the wide armored flanks of the Normandie, taking to any netting or ladder they could find, where several small boats had been moored along the belly of the beast. Their movement was so stealthy, that it was as if the shadow of night had rolled gently in on the evening tide, lapping against the steel of the battleship. Up they went, the silence thick as the dark.

It was not long before they had reached the main weather deck, where it was knife work at first, until one wary sentry shouted the alarm. Soon after, the snap of pistol fire cut through the night, and a burst of submachine gun fire interrupted the meeting in Admiral Laborde’s stateroom. There, Konen and two supposed staffers had, indeed, produced a letter from Admiral Raeder, and Laborde had been reading it, with growing alarm as he scanned the lines.

“Admiral, it is with great regret that I must now convey to you the news that you are herewith relieved of your command aboard the Normandie, which will shortly be taken as a prize of war…”

Laborde heard the machinegun, men shouting and running on the decks below, a bell ringing, and he instinctively reached for his pistol, only to see he was already covered by three others. Colonel Konen reached quietly for the weapon, removing it, and then saluted. He then ran to the nearest port hole, eager to see what was happening outside in the harbor.

The next ten minutes would be crucial, as there was still a destroyer in the harbor, well within the protected area encompassed by the Jetee du Nord and the large breakwater where the Normandie was moored. Furthermore, there was a battery on the Jetee du Nord that could turn and cover the moles and quays. There had been three destroyers earlier that day, but two had been lured out to sea hours earlier by a false distress call from a steamer, where they were now attempting to take on what looked to be tired and wet crewmen, all well infiltrated with Brandenburgers. It was hoped that the third destroyer would have also responded, but it still remained in the harbor, and it could be a problem.

The key was getting those naval gunners and Axel Faust aboard the Normandie as quickly as possible, and the Brandenburgers had made the forward main gun turret a primary objective, racing down the deck past B turret to the massive armored hulk of A turret beyond. Faust’s men arrived, scrambling up netting thrown down by the commandos. They had already seized the turret compartment, sending men down into the bowels of the magazine itself, and herding any French sailors they found before them. At one point, the French got onto a light flak gun three decks up, and began turning it about, trying to depress the gun to fire on the lower deck and turret. The Brandenburgers saw them, and sprayed the exposed gun mount with automatic weapons fire.

Axel Faust and his men were soon up and rushing to the open side hatch of the massive turret. Once inside, they had command of an armored fortress, with four 15-inch guns armed and pointed directly at that destroyer where it was berthed near the railroad station quay. Faust felt right at home, looking the equipment over, and instinctively knowing what he would have to do here. It was just another A turret, only the had twice as many guns to load. A message would be sent by the commandos telling that destroyer Captain that his ship would be blown to pieces the first sign of steam or any hostile action with its deck guns. To underline the point, Faust soon had the turret rotated and guns trained on the destroyer, their barrels lowering with a hydraulic growl.

By this time, the full company was aboard ship, disarming the small contingent of French Marines, and ordering any crew they encountered up onto the main deck. They were fortunate to find that a good percentage of the ship’s compliment had been ashore that night.

So it was that the element of surprise, and the training, skill and determination of the Brandenburgers, would take the pride of the French Fleet in its mailed fist of steel that night. It was essential that men go down to prevent the sea-cocks from being opened, and forestall any attempt to scuttle the ship. At that very same moment, in the Harbor of Toulon to the northeast, the units of 7th Panzer Division which had been deployed all over the harbor area to supposedly be loaded for transport to Oran, were instead seizing the French Naval units there.

Ironically, it was Admiral Jean de Laborde who was at Toulon in the old history, and it was he who gave the final order that the French fleet should be scuttled. He had sailed to Algiers aboard the Normandie to meet with General Mast and plan how they might deliver Algiers to the Allies at an appropriate time. At that moment, with the war front far to the west in Morocco, and no hope of any Allied intervention until those battle lines had swept into Algeria, Neither General Mast, nor Laborde, had been in a position to take any decisive action. Their intention had been to use the time that remained to ascertain which units in French North Africa they might turn at an appropriate time, and these plans were only in the early stages of development before they were pre-empted by Manteuffel, Konen’s Brandenburgers, and the daring German plan.

Come sunrise on the 29th of September, Germany would have a new super battleship, and Manteuffel would be in control of most of Algiers Harbor, including the graving docks, moles, petroleum storage depot, machine shops, port offices, and the seaplane base in the southwest quadrant. There were several French units well outside the city that had not been accounted for, some of them more determined Senegalese Regiments. They rallied when the shock of what was happening finally sunk in, and began forming up their battalions to push into the city with the aim of re-taking the harbor. But more German troops would soon arrive by rail, the leading edge of some really tough fighting men in the Hermann Goring Division. Behind it, Fischer’s 10th Panzer Division had moved to disarm the French Division at Constantine, and the French defenders of Tunis were meeting more unwelcome guests that night as well. A stream of transport aircraft were landing at the airfields, bearing the leading elements of the 334th Infantry Division. One Battalion of the 10th Panzer Regiment was also just outside the city, having been dropped off there for just this purpose. Its armor proved very persuasive. By dawn, ships would arrive with the Italian Superga Division, a Bersaglieri Regiment, and more German units, including the first company of the 501st Schwere Panzer Battalion.

That day, peremptory fighting would continue in and around Algiers, but it was a fire that the rapidly arriving Herman Goring Division would quickly put down. Further west in Oran, KG Koch had four more veteran Falschirmjaeger battalions to seize that vital harbor, only this time the battleship out in the bay was the Hindenburg. It had been necessary to take out the shore batteries at Ain el Turk and others on the eastern coast, but the 16-inch guns of Hindenburg made short work of that task. Its imposing presence, and the threat the Germans made of leveling the city with those guns if the French attempted to resist, was enough to quell the ardor of the garrison there. This was reinforced by planes off the German carriers, which were up like a swarm of hornets come first light, with the Stukas silencing shore batteries further east along the coast.

It would be weeks yet before the entire French Army would be completely disarmed, all airfields occupied, units taken under guard. As Kesselring had commented to Kurt Student, many wanted nothing more to do with the war, others were so determined that they fled into the countryside, hiding in the hopes of one day making contact with Allied forces. Some would again join the Free French under Giraud and De Gaulle, but most would simply become irrelevant, just as Darlan was in the end.

Hitler had made the fateful decision to make certain that France would not become a problem. One Korps of the 7th Army under General Freidrich Dollmann was now in Vichy Controlled territory, and it was joined by the 334th Infantry Division arriving from Germany. Marshall Petain was given an ultimatum—he must either order all French units to stand down, or Germany would rescind the armistice and resume immediate hostilities in France.

With Admiral Darlan already dead at the hands of Juan Alfonso’s diligence, and with Laborde in custody aboard the commandeered French Flagship, the plan to scuttle the French Fleet at Toulon failed. This time, the Germans had simply moved too swiftly, forewarned of this threat by Ivan Volkov. While several destroyer, a cruiser and three submarines were scuttled at Toulon, the bulk of the ships there were captured, and soon the Normandie would have a new name: Friedrich de Gross, and Axel Faust would have a new job.

Case Anton and Operation Lila to seize the French Fleet had been a great success, but it did have one very negative impact on Kesselring. The French troops he had relied upon to help in the defense of Morocco would also go through the catharsis of choosing sides. Most all of them would simply cease resistance as Patton’s troops advanced. Some would join Free French Forces forming behind Allied lines, others would remain disgruntled and oppose to the Allied cause throughout the war, with some even fighting for Germany in Russia in Infantry Regiment 638. Yet for the most part, a transformation was now underway that would see the entire French Administration of their colonies in Africa collapse.

In the chaos of those hours, Kesselring found that he had no choice but to cede Morocco to the Americans. He would blame it all on the French, say they sabotaged the defense, but in reality, his primary intention was to extricate Student’s precious Falschirmjaeger battalions from the sure trap they would be in if they tried to defend Tangier, and instead get them east to the Algerian border on the rail line from Fez. It seemed that the entire Western front had been thrown into chaos, and the whirlwind of change was sweeping over the desolate reaches of North Africa.

If the Germans had waited another two weeks to put this plan in motion, it might have failed as the French came to see the fate that awaited them for their collaboration with Germany. Yet now, with their war just a few days old, the plan caught them by complete surprise. When he heard the news of what the Germans had done, Patton could not help a grin.

“Audacity,” he said. “War is simple, direct, and ruthless. A good plan, violently executed now, is better than a perfect plan next week. This time it was a German plan. Tomorrow it will be an American plan. I intend to take every advantage of the confusion this is likely to cause. The French out there won’t know which way to point their goddamned rifles! Now’s the time to move. Montgomery is already 40 kilometers from Gibraltar, so I’m going to take Tangier in the next 48 hours, come hell or high water.”

Half a world away, it seemed to Anton Fedorov that he could feel that foreboding wind on the downwash from the rotors of a KA-40 as he boarded with a handful of other men. Soon that helo was rising up into the grey dawn, chopping its way west over Sakhalin Island and bound for a rendezvous with the airship Irkutsk, and soon after, Fedorov would meet with another version of the man he had been plotting with, Captain Vladimir Karpov, now filling the Siberian’s boots as Admiral of the Siberian Aerocorps.